After hastily saying goodbye to Hagrid, Harold grabbed his package and hurried back toward the castle. On the lawn out front, he spotted Harry and the others.
Hermione was conjuring a bottle-sized blue flame to keep them warm.
The Bluebell Flame Charm—one of the more commonly used warming spells among adult witches and wizards. It didn't burn skin, just provided a gentle heat. That Hermione could already perform this as a first-year was nothing short of impressive. If Professor Flitwick saw it, he'd probably award Gryffindor five points on the spot.
Unfortunately, the professor who saw it wasn't Flitwick.
"What's that in your hand, Potter?"
"It's Quidditch Through the Ages," Harry said, handing it over.
"Confiscated. Library books are not to be taken outside the castle," Snape snapped, snatching it from Harry. Surprisingly, he didn't deduct any points. Seemed he was in a good mood today.
Harold tried to walk past quietly, not wanting to get involved—but Snape was on a roll.
"Stop. Ollivander, what are you carrying?" Snape floated toward him like a giant bat.
"I bought some supplies. The owl just delivered them," Harold replied, showing the brown paper parcel in his hands.
Snape pursed his lips, but said nothing more. He didn't invent a random rule to take Harold's stuff the way he had with Harry. After all, his vendetta was strictly with Harry, not all Gryffindors.
But just as Snape turned to leave, a familiar scent hit him—blood.
To a Potions Master like him, it was unmistakable.
In an instant, his eyes locked onto Harold's parcel.
"Open it," Snape ordered, eyes sharp. "Now. Immediately. Don't make me say it twice."
Harold complied without resistance, tearing the parcel open in a few swift movements.
Harry and the others, curious, crept up behind him.
Inside were several heart-like lumps, each about the size of an egg, fresh and blood-soaked.
"Urgh—" Hermione was the first to recoil, her face pale. Ron looked ready to vomit. Even Harry had to take a step back.
Snape's expression was equally grim—but not from disgust. Potions class dealt with organs all the time—rat spleens, toad livers, by the bucket. This was nothing new.
No, what alarmed Snape was something else.
He was thinking about the implications.
Hearts weren't commonly used in potion-making. More often, they were associated with dark magic—especially curses. Many notorious hexes required a heart as a medium.
Students experimenting with dark arts... well, Hogwarts had seen that before. He had every reason to be concerned.
"What is this?" Snape demanded harshly.
"Redcap hearts," Harold answered calmly.
"Why would you buy such things?"
"Because I need them," Harold replied. "And I don't recall Hogwarts having a rule against students purchasing Redcap hearts."
Snape's expression tightened. "Well, now there is. Explain yourself."
Harold shrugged. "I use them to make wands."
"Liar!" Snape's eyes narrowed. "No one uses Redcap hearts in wand-making."
"Sorry, Professor Snape, but I think you're wrong…"
It wasn't Harold who spoke—it was Harry.
"We saw him make a wand with a Redcap heart nerve. All of us," Harry added.
"That's right," said Ron. "I saw it too. So did Neville and Seamus."
Their tone was firm, leaving little doubt.
Snape hesitated, then suddenly stared into Harry's eyes.
Harry didn't flinch at first. He was telling the truth, after all. But within seconds, he looked away. The latest_epɪ_sodes are on_the 𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵•𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑒•𝙣𝙚𝙩
Something felt off. He couldn't explain it, but it was like Snape could see into him—read his thoughts.
Snape's own expression shifted. He now looked at Harold like he was some kind of rare creature, muttering under his breath.
"...it's actually true…"
Harold barely held back a smirk—Snape had definitely used Legilimency on Harry. No question.
It felt weird. Harold was the source of all this, the one who brought up the wand—but Snape probed Harry's mind for proof.
Of course, it's not like Harold wanted Snape rummaging through his brain, but still—the blatant favoritism was something else.
That said, even if Snape did use Legilimency on him, he wouldn't have gotten anything.
The Ollivander family had existed for two thousand years. As Britain's only wand-making lineage, they had plenty of secrets—many worth protecting.
The first time Harold had opened Wands and Wizards, an ancient, leather-bound book, a memory seal had activated on the front page—a magical circle so intricate it made his head spin.
A relic from the Merlin era, even older than runes. The book itself dated back just as far.
It functioned like a built-in Occlumency shield—an enhanced one at that.
And not just against Legilimency—Imperius Curses didn't work on him either. At least, not from normal wizards. Dumbledore, Tom Riddle, or Grindelwald might be exceptions.
Still, against 99% of wizards, Harold was safe.
Now convinced Harold was telling the truth, Snape accepted it: someone had really made a wand using a Redcap heart.
Wandmakers were all lunatics anyway. This wasn't even the weirdest thing he'd heard.
But accepting it didn't mean he'd let it go.
This was a first-year with bloody hearts in his dorm. Absolutely not.
"Don't do this again," Snape said coldly, snatching the parcel. "You're not allowed to purchase these things privately while at school."
"What if I need more?" Harold protested, pained to see his purchase taken. Redcap hearts weren't expensive, but having them smuggled into Hogwarts by Knockturn Alley suppliers was. That package cost a whole Galleon—it could've bought snacks for the entire dorm for three days.
"I'm a registered wandmaker. I have the right to create."
"That doesn't mean you can deal with dark artifacts unsupervised," Snape snapped. "Speak to a professor."
Harold swore he only said it to be cheeky, just to irritate Snape a little. But to his surprise, Snape paused… then nodded.