That afternoon, Robert finished the queueing work three hours ahead of schedule but still generously gave everyone five sickles. After all, eight out of ten people in line at that time were his own, so there was no point in continuing the pretense. With fewer people around, the remaining work could be handed over to his grandfather, Garrick, while Robert stepped out of the wand shop and strolled into the main street of Diagon Alley.
The book signing event at Flourish and Blotts was still in full swing, with a large crowd gathered at the entrance—genuine customers, this time.
"Young Harry came to Flourish and Blotts today just wanting to buy my autobiography…" As Robert passed the shopfront, he caught Lockhart's smug voice echoing from inside. "I'm willing to give him this book for free… complete with a precious, pure gold wand sticker of my own…"
Applause and cheers erupted from the crowd, praising Lockhart's magnanimity. Robert, standing outside, clapped along. He had to admit, Lockhart truly was generous—those custom gold stickers, along with the regular ones, had earned Robert over a hundred galleons. He was happy to play along with the excitement for once.
While applauding, he peered into the shop. Harry was having his photo taken with Lockhart, journalists from the Daily Prophet snapping pictures, and not far from them, two people with identical platinum-blond hair entered the bookstore. Draco Malfoy caught sight of Harry in the middle of the crowd and immediately scowled.
He had arrived just in time.
Robert exhaled with relief. He had spotted Ginny Weasley earlier inside and suddenly remembered something important—something that would change everything.
That diary.
Voldemort's first Horcrux, the diary that once bewitched Ginny, would be brought to Diagon Alley today by Lucius Malfoy. And Robert had come specifically for it.
He didn't care about some spell encyclopedia that answered questions. Tom Riddle wouldn't know the things he needed answers to—like how to make a wand that surpassed the Elder Wand, or how to craft a directional wand.
Would Tom Riddle know that?
Of course not.
But Robert didn't care about Tom's knowledge; he was after the piece of Voldemort's soul sealed inside the diary. That essence—more potent and intact than the fragment pulled from a Unicorn—was what mattered.
He had a plan.
Before school started, he would let the Unicorn divide the soul in the diary. Half would be stored as a backup, and the rest would be used to test different wand core materials. He wanted to determine whether disposable wands were affected more by the core or the shaft. If it was the core, could altering the shaft affect the wand's lifespan or power?
Voldemort had nearly overturned the English wizarding world. He couldn't have relied on just one killing curse. Avada Kedavra was just the easiest.
Robert figured that if he carried a dozen or more disposable wands, even if Voldemort returned in full force, he might be able to stand a chance.
With this in mind, he squeezed into Flourish and Blotts.
Just as he expected, Draco Malfoy deliberately provoked Harry and Ron. The atmosphere quickly soured. Soon, the adults joined in, and tension reached a boiling point.
The Malfoys and Weasleys were generational enemies. Every meeting ended in sarcasm and insult. This time, Lucius changed tactics—he turned to Hermione's parents, mocking them for their Muggle background and using the opportunity to shame the Weasleys further.
His disdain was palpable. The pure-blood superiority complex oozed from him, and Robert couldn't help but frown.
"Look at the company you keep, Weasley… I thought your family had already reached rock bottom," Lucius sneered.
"So you're mocking William I?" Robert said suddenly, cutting through the rising tension and drawing everyone's attention.
Most were baffled, not understanding why Robert would mention William I.
Lucius's gaze darkened immediately. "What did you say?"
"William I—don't you know him?" Robert shrugged casually. "Oh, maybe you know one of his Muggle friends… Or should I say subordinates. I believe he happened to share a certain surname…"
"Shut up!"
Lucius's shriek was sharp and unhinged, cutting off Robert's words. Before anyone could react, Lucius lunged at Robert, madness in his eyes.
"How dare you… How dare you!"
All his aristocratic pretense—the polished grace of a pure-blood noble—shattered. His platinum hair hung wildly across his face, and his pale features were twisted in fury. Even Draco recoiled, startled by his father's sudden transformation.
But before Lucius could reach Robert, another person tackled him.
Arthur Weasley, who had already been incensed by Lucius's insults toward Hermione's parents, took the opportunity. His emotions hadn't cooled, and Lucius had just given him a perfect excuse—attacking a young wizard in public.
As Lucius went down, Draco reacted instinctively, trying to defend his father, and Ron jumped in to protect Arthur.
Fred and George, ever eager to join chaos, leapt into the fray, and Harry tried to intervene—only to end up stepping on Draco several times.
Flourish and Blotts erupted into complete disorder.
And all of it began because Robert had mentioned William I.
But most people quickly forgot that detail. Like Arthur Weasley, they assumed Lucius had simply gone mad.
"Not like that—gentlemen—not like that—!" the shopkeeper wailed, watching helplessly as bookshelves toppled over.
Then a booming voice drowned out the din. "Break it up, gentlemen—!"
Hagrid stormed in, pushing aside scattered books as he effortlessly pried apart the tangled mess of bodies on the floor.
Lucius was a wreck—one eye blackened, lip split, hair resembling a bird's nest. Draco didn't fare much better, his clothes rumpled and several dusty footprints stamped across him.
The Weasleys, outnumbering the Malfoys, looked much better—only slightly disheveled.
"Who are you?!" Lucius growled, glaring at Robert with bloodshot eyes.
"What a coincidence," Robert said calmly. "Someone recently asked me the same thing. You even know that person."
He recalled the fragmented soul of Voldemort, pierced by the Unicorn, who had asked him the same question—only Robert hadn't answered or even looked at him back then.
"Robert Ollivander," he said, smiling faintly. "We've met before, though clearly you don't remember. If you're confused about what I said earlier, I can show you proof—like the eleventh-century wizarding registry."
Lucius's face drained of color, then flushed red with fury. He turned away from Robert without another word and locked eyes with Arthur Weasley.
"What do you want?" Arthur asked stiffly.
Lucius didn't reply. Instead, he stooped down and picked up a battered Transfiguration textbook from the floor—the very book that had left his eye bruised. He tossed it violently into Ginny's cauldron.
His throw was so forceful that Ginny fumbled it. The cauldron fell to the floor with a loud clang. Lucius didn't spare it a glance.
"This isn't over. We'll see," he spat.
He cast one last look at Robert, motioned for Draco to follow, and stormed out.
The Daily Prophet reporters pushed through the crowd, eager for answers. Not even Hagrid's imposing frame could stop their pursuit.
"Where are you going? Come back! Hurry back!" Lockhart cried, grabbing his photographer and being dragged along in the stampede.
The shop dissolved into chaos again.
"We'd better get out of here," Hagrid grumbled. The others quickly agreed.
"Let me help you," Robert offered, picking up the fallen cauldron and placing the book back inside.
"Thank you," Ginny said politely.
But when they stepped outside, ready to leave, she noticed Robert standing motionless at the threshold, eyes fixed on the cauldron in his hands.
"What's wrong?" she asked instinctively.
There was no response.
Robert held the battered Transfiguration textbook in his hand, staring in disbelief at the now-empty cauldron.
The diary was gone.
Only the textbook remained.
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