"What should we do? He's been standing at the door, and we can't enter the library…"
Robert didn't answer but simply raised his wand.
Tom watched as a wisp of white mist appeared at the tip of Robert's wand. His vision blurred momentarily before a ghost covered in silver-white blood appeared in front of them.
Tom's eyes widened in surprise. "Isn't this the ghost of our house, the Bloody Baron? How did he appear here?"
A smile played on Robert's lips. "Guess."
Tom wisely chose to stay silent.
At that moment, the Bloody Baron floated toward Peeves.
"Ah! It's the esteemed Lord Baron! My apologies, sir! Is there anything I can do for you at this hour?" Peeves' expression turned fearful as his legs nearly gave out beneath him.
The Bloody Baron was Peeves' greatest nemesis. For some reason, the mischievous poltergeist was absolutely terrified of him.
"Move," the Bloody Baron commanded coldly.
"Yes, sir!" Peeves bolted away as though granted a pardon.
The moment Peeves disappeared, the Bloody Baron also vanished right before Tom's astonished eyes.
"This… What's going on? How can a ghost just disappear like that? Wait…" A realization struck Tom.
It was a fake Bloody Baron!
In other words, it was an illusion conjured by Robert!
Now it all made sense—why Abraxas and the others had panicked on the train that day. Robert must have made them see something terrifying!
This time, Robert had even included himself in the illusion's influence, making himself see the Bloody Baron as well. It was a clever trick!
Creak…
While Tom was still deep in thought, Robert had already unlocked the library door.
Tom hurried in after him.
Once inside, Robert suddenly turned back, scanning the corridor with suspicion.
He felt like something—someone—was watching them.
But the hallway was empty.
After a moment of hesitation, Robert tapped his wand against the door. The library door closed on its own, and the lock clicked back into place.
Then, Tom's vision blurred again. When it cleared, the door appeared as if it had never been opened at all!
It was another illusion.
Anyone approaching the library would see a securely locked door, never realizing that Robert and Tom were already inside.
Robert had planned meticulously, considering every possibility to avoid detection.
Tom frowned. Was it possible that his involvement in this plan had also been premeditated by Robert?
Otherwise, why had Robert prepared a Whispering Charm in advance?
"How did you do that?" Tom asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. "I've never seen magic like this before."
"This is my specialty. Want to learn?" Robert asked.
"You're willing to teach me?" Tom asked eagerly.
Robert smirked. "You wish. Would you hand over your most valuable possession to me?"
"Of course! I'd teach you very carefully!" Tom said firmly.
Robert chuckled. "Have you forgotten? I'm the one who taught you your so-called 'best' skill."
Tom fell silent. It was true—everything he knew now, he had learned from Robert.
How could there be such a vast difference between people?
Robert tossed Tom a black glove. "This glove is highly sensitive to magic. Before you turn any pages, put it on and touch the book's cover. If the glove reacts strongly, it means the book contains powerful dark magic—do not open it. The book you're looking for is a historical record, so it shouldn't contain any dangerous magic."
Tom examined the glove in amazement. He had heard rumors that many of the books in the restricted section carried strong curses. Opening one carelessly could lead to disaster.
With this glove, at least he wouldn't be caught off guard.
"Where did you get this?" Tom asked, intrigued.
"A junk shop," Robert answered casually.
He couldn't tell Tom that this was one of the few remaining artifacts of the Somlenno family…
"Be careful. I don't want to drag you to the school infirmary in the middle of the night."
"I got it," Tom muttered.
With Tom dealt with, Robert decided to move quickly.
That eerie feeling from earlier put him on edge.
But it was too late to turn back now—that would only make the enemy suspicious.
So, Robert quietly adjusted his plan.
Tonight, he would pretend to browse the restricted books. While passing the spot the senior student had described, he'd check if the notebook was still there.
If it was, he'd retrieve it later.
Bringing Tom along had been a wise decision. His presence served as a perfect cover for Robert's true purpose.
When dealing with ancient magic, Robert couldn't afford to be careless.
Even in battle, if nightmare magic was an option, he would always use it.
As Robert planned his next steps, he effortlessly dispelled the red magical cordon blocking the restricted section.
Tom watched in awe as spell after spell flowed from Robert's wand.
Yet, oddly enough, this particular cordon didn't seem to contain any protective magic.
Beyond it lay the restricted section, and further back, a long staircase spiraled downward.
The restricted section wasn't just one floor. The first level wasn't too dangerous, but the deeper one went, the more perilous it became.
Ghosts were rumored to guard each level.
That meant their Disillusionment Charms had to remain active at all times.
Ghosts made for perfect sentinels—eternally awake and ever watchful.
But under Robert's nightmare magic, they were no challenge at all.
A simple illusion would be enough to cloud their senses.
The ghosts had long lost the magic they possessed as living wizards.
Robert glanced at Tom. "Let's split up."
Tom knew Robert didn't want him to see what book he was searching for.
But he didn't mind. Everyone had their own secrets.
He nodded and started searching from the first level.
Meanwhile, Robert headed straight for the lower floors.
On the underground first floor, a ghostly librarian sat at the front desk, reading a book.
Robert raised his wand, and the ghost's eyes immediately turned dazed…
He walked past quietly and reached the bookshelves.
Hogwarts' thousand-year-old heritage was evident in its vast collection of forbidden knowledge.
Compared to this, the books on the first floor were nothing but the tip of the iceberg.
Robert didn't go directly to the location of the notebook.
Instead, he put on the glove and methodically searched through the shelves, touching each book's cover.
If he found something interesting, he'd flip through it casually, blending in as a curious student sneaking into the restricted section.
Minutes passed.
He moved from the underground first floor to the second, then the third.
Finally, he reached the shelf described by the senior.
Bookshelf 3-5-5-1. Third column from the bottom. Far right.
Robert reached out, his gloved fingers brushing the spine of the book…
Then, he paused.
His pulse quickened.
The notebook was gone!
This wasn't entirely unexpected. After all, the senior had left Hogwarts years ago.
But judging by the dust marks left on the shelf, the notebook had been removed recently.
Robert's mind raced.
It had remained untouched for so long. And now, just when he learned its location, someone had taken it?
Who else knew about this notebook?
Robert pretended to browse more books before quietly exiting.
Meanwhile, on the first floor, Tom sat by a window, staring blankly outside.
An open black book lay in front of him.
"Robert, we should go," he said suddenly.
"I found something."
Robert raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"Gaunt," Tom murmured. "My mother's surname…" His eyes gleamed strangely. "I don't know my father, but my mother's relatives… they're Slytherin's descendants. That means I'm not a Mudblood. I have Slytherin's blood in my veins!"
"When the holidays come, I'll go find the Gaunts… Maybe someone from my mother's side is still alive. Robert, will you come with me?"
Robert nodded. "Sure. But keep in mind—if your mother's family was so powerful, why did she die alone in rags at an orphanage?"
His words were like a bucket of cold water on Tom's excitement.
But deep down, he knew Robert had a point.
(End of Chapter 74)
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