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By the next day, the news of Gryffindor losing two hundred points had inevitably spread throughout the Castle.
At first, no one believed it. But once they verified it with the giant hourglass tracking the House Cup scores, the school erupted. Gryffindor, previously in first place, had plummeted to last. Slytherin, originally in second, naturally rose to the top.
From that morning onward, Slytherins celebrated gleefully—clapping, whistling, jeering at Gryffindor students, and shouting as if they had already secured the House Cup.
As for Gryffindor, resentment bubbled within. Their anger wasn't just directed at the situation—it was aimed at the instigators. Chief among them was Harry Potter, who quickly found himself isolated.
This wasn't surprising. Of the six students involved, Fred and George Weasley were known for losing house points; it had almost become tradition. Robert was much the same, albeit even more outrageous—he'd lost over twenty points at the start of the term due to constant tardiness, and another twenty for creating a ruckus in the dormitory early one morning, not to mention other scattered infractions.
But unlike the Weasley twins, Robert had managed to earn most of those points back. Whether through exceptional class performance or helping teachers, his transgressions were offset. The Gryffindors, seeing the balance, didn't hold it against him. Some even admired his courage and responsibility—thinking he truly embodied Gryffindor spirit.
So when the names of those who had lost points this time were revealed, Robert was quickly excused by his housemates.
Among the rest, Neville Longbottom had always kept a low profile, and the two other foolish first-years were known to follow Harry around constantly. Unsurprisingly, they were dismissed as Harry's lackeys.
So the lion's share of the blame fell squarely on Harry's shoulders.
Distraught and ashamed, Harry sought out Oliver Wood, the Quidditch captain, and offered to quit the team. He felt he had let everyone down.
Wood, however, was having none of it.
"What good would that do? If we can't win our Quidditch matches, how else are we going to win back the points?"
The pressure mounted. Harry trained harder than ever and spent all his remaining time buried in books at the library. Even Robert, who occasionally ran into him in the common room, couldn't help but notice the stress in his eyes—and the flicker of envy within them.
Harry was envious.
They'd all been caught and punished together. Yet Robert emerged unscathed. Students still treated him the same, and even Professor McGonagall—who had been furious—had shown no lasting dissatisfaction toward him.
Take their detention arrangements, for instance. The other five received formal notices at breakfast. Only Robert was spoken to directly by Professor McGonagall.
"Your detention starts at eleven tonight," she said. "Go to the Entrance Hall. Filch will take you to the Forbidden Forest."
After their Transfiguration lesson, she added, "I hope this detention will serve as a reminder to you..."
She didn't elaborate on what it should remind him of.
"I understand, Professor McGonagall," Robert replied politely and left the classroom.
The Forbidden Forest—sanctioned by the Professor no less. Robert's eyes glinted. Was this truly a punishment? Or a reward?
Fred and George seemed to think it was the latter. Their detention involved cleaning the Trophy Room with their least favorite brother, Ron. Not only did they have to polish every trophy by hand, they weren't allowed to use magic.
"There are over three hundred trophies in there!" Fred groaned. "We want to go to the Forbidden Forest too!"
"Why couldn't that idiot Slytherin be stuck cleaning instead?" George added.
"Probably because Professor McGonagall thinks the three of you are naturally in sync," Robert said dryly, shooting them a mocking glance.
They had been caught red-handed, even with the Marauder's Map in hand. Voluntarily delivering themselves into Professor McGonagall's grasp?
Pathetic. So much for their promise to protect him.
Fred and George flushed with embarrassment.
"That time was... we were careless," Fred muttered. "Who knew McGonagall would be right there..."
Truthfully, it was their fault. They were supposed to be on lookout duty. But after getting the Whomping Willow branch, they were too excited to think clearly.
"It's Ron's fault!" George said bitterly.
They had heard—or rather, everyone had heard—Malfoy bragging about it publicly. In his excitement over helping Slytherin reach their seventh consecutive championship, he had spilled the entire story.
Apparently, while shoving Ron, Malfoy had "picked up" a letter with detailed plans on how and when they would be moving the dragon. He handed it to Professor McGonagall right away.
No one believed the dragon part, but after hearing Fred and George's analysis, the rest of the tale seemed legit.
If Ron had been a bit smarter, or at least more careful, they wouldn't have run into Professor McGonagall that night—summoned by Malfoy, no less.
Fred and George were livid. They hadn't even realized Ron and the others left the Castle that night, even though they'd seen it on the Marauder's Map. In hindsight, Ron had walked straight through the main entrance—might as well have offered himself up to Filch.
It was their oversight, and they accepted it.
By eleven that night, Fred and George—one carrying a bucket, the other holding cleaning supplies—headed to the Trophy Room without complaint.
Meanwhile, Harry said goodbye to Ron and Hermione and left the common room with Robert and Neville. Hagrid only needed four people for the forest trip. Hermione's punishment was different.
When they reached the Entrance Hall, Filch and Malfoy were already there. Malfoy was the fourth person chosen to go into the Forbidden Forest.
"Follow me," Filch said, leading them out of the Castle. He began rambling about the "good old days," when rule-breakers were chained in the dungeons.
He "accidentally" mentioned that their punishment was to enter the dangerous forest, where they might encounter werewolves or even Quintapeds.
Among the four, only Neville believed him—his face turned pale and his hands trembled.
Malfoy had started smug but grew visibly uneasy when he realized where they were headed.
Harry managed to stay calm.
Robert? He didn't believe a word.
Filch's horror stories were for scaring naïve first-years. That so-called dungeon had been sealed since Armando Dippet's time, and Dumbledore would never reopen it.
And the Forbidden Forest? Please—it was practically a field trip! Robert couldn't be more pleased.
Filch's frustration showed. Robert's indifference made him look like a fool. But they had already arrived at Hagrid's wooden hut.
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