Deep in the night, Hogwarts Castle was quiet, with only the occasional dim oil lamp swaying gently between the floors.
"That's Filch patrolling."
"I figured as much." Robert glanced at Fred, who was acting as a running commentator beside him. "But are you seriously saying we can get outside the castle without opening a door?"
"George, it seems we're being doubted." Fred raised an eyebrow.
"Then let's show our first-year what the Weasley twins are capable of," George said, striding up to a portrait.
Robert instinctively looked over. It was a landscape painting, depicting endless wheat fields dotted with cattle and sheep, and a barn nestled in the corner.
George reached out and knocked on the barn—three forceful taps in quick succession.
Thump, thump, thump!
A figure who hadn't been in the painting before suddenly appeared. Grumbling, the man stomped over and yanked open the barn door. The painting split in two down the middle, like an opening doorway, revealing a narrow, shadowy passage behind it.
"Fred, you go first," George said. The moment he finished speaking, Fred ducked inside.
"Why not see for yourself..." George looked at Robert and motioned invitingly.
Robert didn't hesitate and followed them into the passage.
It was pitch dark but relatively flat. Robert lit his wand and moved ahead cautiously.
About ten minutes later, a flight of stairs appeared. Fred was waiting at the base.
When Robert caught up, Fred raised his arm and pushed open a trapdoor overhead.
A shaft of moonlight spilled in from outside—Robert knew then that they had exited the castle.
"What are you waiting for? Go take a look!" George's grinning voice called from behind.
Robert stepped out and found himself in a spacious room. By the moonlight filtering in through the windows, he could make out a row of lockers on one side and a long bench running in front of them.
"The Quidditch changing room," Fred commented, picking up a blue Quidditch robe from a locker. He examined it, then returned it. "Too bad it's Ravenclaw's."
"We've tried convincing Wood to swap rooms with Ravenclaw," George added.
"But he keeps refusing."
"Why?" Robert asked, intrigued.
"Who knows? Maybe he's just too attached to our current room," George said, emerging last from the passage.
"So? A secret passage like this for one Galleon—good deal, huh?"
"A bit pricey, but I'd say it's worth it." Robert opened the door and gazed out at the quiet Quidditch pitch.
"Does Filch know about this passage?"
"Probably not," Fred replied after thinking a moment. "The last time we used it was last year to sneak into the Forbidden Forest."
"And we got caught by Hagrid, then thoroughly scolded by McGonagall," George added.
"But the passage is still here and hasn't been sealed off."
"So we're guessing Filch doesn't know about it."
"Or maybe he does, and he's just trying to lure us back to catch us in the act."
"He does pull tricks like that," Fred said.
It seemed this secret passage wasn't as safe as Robert had hoped.
He frowned slightly, wondering if that Galleon he paid was a bit of a waste. But then again, Fred and George had mentioned using the passage last year. No matter how patient Filch was, he surely wouldn't monitor the place for an entire year—would he?
"Oh, and if you're thinking of heading into the Forbidden Forest, you might want to come back with us," Fred warned as he reopened the trapdoor.
"Even at night, Hagrid can find you in that forest without fail."
"Consider that a free bit of advice."
With that, the twins dropped back into the tunnel. They had their own business and didn't intend to stick with Robert.
"I'll remember that," Robert said. In truth, he hadn't planned to go into the Forbidden Forest at all.
His reason for sneaking out at night was simple: to avoid Professor Sprout.
Whether by coincidence or some mysterious intuition, every time Robert got close to the Whomping Willow during the day, Professor Sprout would always show up before he could do anything and chase him off.
And her reason was entirely valid—the area near the Whomping Willow was dangerous, and first-years were strictly forbidden from approaching. Robert had no grounds to argue.
So, he chose to act under the cover of night and enlisted the help of the Weasley twins, who knew all the castle's secret routes.
So far, things had gone smoothly.
Robert exited the changing room. The clouds tonight were thick, and only half of Hogwarts Castle was illuminated by moonlight, the rest shrouded in darkness.
Luckily, the path ahead was still visible.
He didn't bother to conceal himself and quickly made his way to the Whomping Willow.
At this moment, the tree stood silent and still, looking more subdued than it did in the daylight. Under the moonlight, it appeared to be covered in a layer of silver frost.
Sensing his presence, several of the massive limbs—each as thick as a troll's thigh—began to tremble and sway ominously.
The sudden surge of energy and sheer menace made Robert take an involuntary step back.
He picked up a stone about the size of an egg and hurled it forcefully at the tree.
The stone struck a barely visible knot near the base. Instantly, the Whomping Willow froze in place.
"Perfect." Robert instinctively glanced at the nearby greenhouses. No movement.
Though the lights inside were still on, they were likely left that way to support certain magical plants—certainly not a sign of Professor Sprout.
He exhaled in relief and retrieved a wand from his bag.
This was the first time he had taken a branch himself. Normally, wandmakers would strike a deal with Bowtruckles for such materials. But the Whomping Willow clearly didn't welcome those creatures, leaving Robert no choice but to act alone.
He quickly climbed up into the tree and found a suitable position.
As per wandmaker custom, he avoided the main trunk and focused on several thinner branches that drooped downward like tendrils.
These branches were akin to the spikes of a Venomous Tentacula or the roots of a Mandrake—meant to heighten lethality. Removing them wouldn't cause the tree much harm.
After selecting his target, Robert swung his wand with practiced precision.
"Diffindo!"
The Cutting Charm—a lower-powered version of Sectumsempra commonly used to sever fabric or trim branches—struck the limb.
A harsh scraping noise erupted, and sparks flew from the bark.
Tough stuff, Robert thought grimly. It was like cutting through stone.
Still, the charm had some effect. A coin-sized notch appeared in the branch.
Encouraged, Robert cast the spell two more times in rapid succession.
Snap! The branch finally broke free.
But just as it did, the tree began to stir again. Robert could feel the trunk beneath his feet give a subtle tremble.
Worse, a window in the castle suddenly lit up.
Had someone heard the Cutting Charm?
Not waiting to find out, Robert slid swiftly down the trunk, grabbed the fallen branch, and dashed toward the shadowy undercroft of the castle.
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