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The Quidditch match this time was far from smooth; various problems cropped up, and at one point, Harry was nearly thrown off his new broom from thirty feet in the air.
After the match ended, he desperately wanted someone to talk to—someone he could be completely honest with. So, after a brief celebration, he headed toward Hagrid's hut, bringing Ron and Hermione with him.
Hagrid's hut was the safest place he could think of.
Harry stepped forward and knocked on the door.
Usually, Hagrid opened the door right away whenever Harry came by, but this time, they waited for a long while, and there was no response from inside.
Not even Fang's usual barking.
"Nobody's home?" Harry looked toward the window, confused. The curtain was drawn tightly, and he couldn't see anything inside.
"That can't be right. I just saw Hagrid come back a little while ago," Ron said, stepping forward and trying to peer through the keyhole. "I wouldn't mistake Hagrid for someone else, would I?"
"Maybe he and Fang went into the Forbidden Forest again," Hermione suggested.
Just then, the wooden door creaked open from the inside.
"Hagrid!" Harry said in surprise. "I thought you weren't home."
"Ah, something came up—I couldn't come to the door right away," Hagrid said, sounding a bit guilty. "Come on in and warm yourselves up."
None of the three questioned him. They quickly stepped inside the wooden hut.
It was bitterly cold outside—November wind cutting like knives. The warmth from the stove inside made the hut feel significantly more comfortable.
Only then did they notice another guest in the room.
"Robert..." Harry exclaimed, surprised. "Why are you here?"
"As you can see," Robert said, pointing to a large stick lying on the ground in front of him, "working on a bit of woodworking."
Only then did Harry notice that Robert was still holding a saw, with a pile of sawdust at his feet.
He looked confused but didn't ask further.
The three friends exchanged glances. Ron opened his mouth as if to say something but quickly changed the subject, awkwardly commenting on the weather.
Harry and Hermione followed his lead.
Because they hadn't planned a conversation in advance, their discussion felt forced—starting with the weather, then shifting to homework, then Quidditch. Each topic was more uncomfortable than the last.
At first, Hagrid tried to join in, tossing in a few words here and there. But eventually, even he fell silent, and the atmosphere grew steadily more awkward.
Hermione frowned. She had noticed for some time that Hagrid seemed unusually nervous. He kept glancing toward a particular corner of the room.
Sometimes, even while talking, he would instinctively tilt his head in that direction.
Silently noting his behavior, Hermione turned to look as well.
But all she saw was the fireplace crackling and a large, old sheet hanging nearby. Nothing unusual.
Strange. What about that area could make Hagrid nervous?
Hermione didn't understand. She thought maybe she had looked in the wrong place.
But the wooden hut wasn't big. She glanced around again and didn't see anything that stood out.
If she had to identify something odd, perhaps it was Robert.
He hadn't gone to watch the match today. In fact, he seemed to be the only Gryffindor student who hadn't attended.
You could argue that he just wasn't interested in Quidditch; there were plenty of students like that—including herself.
She had only gone to cheer for Harry—or more accurately, to support her House.
After all, large-scale events at Hogwarts were rare. It was a chance to experience the excitement. Sitting alone in the Castle was far less appealing.
But Robert hadn't gone. And it wasn't because he was busy—he was just whittling wood.
Robert and Harry were supposed to be friends, weren't they? Skipping his friend's match just to carve wood struck Hermione as strange.
And then there was Hagrid's peculiar behavior.
Her gaze moved back and forth between Robert and Hagrid, but she couldn't find any obvious connection. The lack of clues was increasingly frustrating.
Then Ron's poorly timed voice broke the silence.
"Hermione, you agree, right…"
"We can trust Robert," Hermione said directly, not even aware of what Ron had asked. She was tired of the awkward tension and wanted to move things along. "Let's just get straight to the point. No need to keep beating around the bush."
"We—we do trust him," Ron said, sounding unsure, his tone a bit stiff.
"What are you talking about?" Hagrid asked as he brewed some pine needle tea and placed cups in front of them.
"Someone tried to hurt Harry during the Quidditch match," Hermione said plainly. "He almost fell off his broom!"
"Snape did it," Ron added quickly, no longer hesitating. He turned to Harry. "Hermione and I both saw it. He was muttering some spell, eyes locked on you the entire time."
"Nonsense," Hagrid scoffed, clearly unconvinced. "Why would Snape try to do something like that?"
"I don't know, but we saw him doing it."
"It's also possible he was casting a counter-curse," Robert suddenly said.
Everyone turned to look at him.
"Casting a counter-curse also requires keeping your eyes fixed on the target," he added.
"Robert?" Ron asked, astonished. "How could you say that—"
"Don't get me wrong," Robert interrupted. "I'm not trying to defend Snape. I'm just saying it's a possibility. Given the circumstances, we shouldn't rule it out."
Harry and Ron didn't respond. Hermione stared into her teacup, lost in thought.
"You all go ahead and talk—I need to head back," Robert said, standing up. He pointed to the stick on the ground, which was now much thinner. "Hagrid, can I take this with me?"
"Yeah, take it," Hagrid replied, waving a hand. "It's just a piece of wood."
"Thanks," Robert said. He used a Levitation Charm to float the stick, guiding it gently past the three of them before leaving the hut.
Whether Snape had intended to harm or help Harry didn't really matter. Harry already had his answer.
Prejudice in the human heart is a great mountain.
And Harry's prejudice against Snape could form an entire mountain range.
Even if Robert had spoken the truth, Harry wouldn't have believed it. Even if the real culprit confessed, Harry would still harbor some degree of doubt.
Of course, Snape had brought this upon himself. Given his actions, it was hard for anyone to find him likable.
The fact that Harry hadn't completely cut ties with him could even be considered a display of patience.
After returning to his dormitory and stashing the stick, Robert went to the Great Hall for lunch.
Not long after, Harry, Ron, and Hermione arrived too.
Perhaps because of what had been said in Hagrid's hut, they didn't sit next to Robert as they usually did. Instead, they sat far away.
But Robert didn't mind.
To young wizards who were only eleven years old, his earlier remarks may have sounded like a betrayal. It was understandable that they didn't grasp his perspective yet.
Robert wasn't bothered.
His days were full—attending classes, doing homework, and in his spare time, going to Hagrid's hut to work on the wand. He had to perfect the core, polish the wand body, and carefully carve runes into it.
He was busy from dawn to dusk and didn't have time to worry about Harry and the others' feelings.
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