Robert's gaze lingered on the writing on the parchment for a moment. Then, decisively, he looked away. His expression remained calm, almost detached.
"The magic Lord Voldemort offered isn't something easily accepted," he murmured to himself. "If there's a hidden trap, even with my magical attainments, I might not be able to detect it. Untrustworthy."
If he had been truly desperate, with no other way to bypass the limitations of his talent, Robert might have considered taking such a risk. But with the planting system steadily allowing him to break through his constraints, why gamble with something as perilous as Voldemort's magic?
Yet, he noticed something valuable in the parchment. "This Transfiguration method involves using magical animal blood. It could be instrumental in solving the blood emerald problem. And the reward itself is still worth pursuing. It'd be a waste to ignore it."
He pondered carefully. "I need someone trustworthy, proficient in both Dark Arts and Transfiguration, to help screen it for traps."
Robert ruled out several candidates immediately. "Headmaster Dumbledore is far too suspicious of others. If he knew I'd interacted with Voldemort's magic knowledge, probing questions would be inevitable. My aunt is also out—her reaction would be extreme even if she only knew of my exposure, let alone the details."
Finally, one candidate remained in his mind: Severus Snape.
Snape's mastery of both the Dark Arts and Transfiguration was exceptional. The knowledge Voldemort had provided was likely superficial compared to Snape's expertise. If there were any hidden traps, Snape would detect them. Furthermore, Robert had built a strong bond with Snape, who had taught him the unique Severus Potion Transformation. Their trust level was sufficient.
Still, Robert knew this alone wasn't enough to justify revealing such dangerous knowledge. Voldemort's magic could easily corrupt a person's heart. But Snape, a double agent skilled in Occlumency to the extent that even Voldemort failed to discern his true thoughts, was far less likely to be swayed or endangered.
Decision made, Robert transcribed a copy of the parchment using a quick-notes quill and made his way to Snape's office.
"Professor," he began, his voice steady. "I've come across some peculiar knowledge in Transfiguration. After careful consideration, I believe only you at Hogwarts have the ability to evaluate it. Could you take a look?"
Snape raised an eyebrow, his lips curling in a faint snort. "My time is precious. Don't bring me childish, make-believe knowledge. I'll throw you out if you do."
Robert handed him the copy of the Dark Arts Transfiguration. Snape's eyes initially showed indifference—few Dark Wizards had surpassed him in mastery. But after reading just a few lines, his expression darkened, icy and severe.
"Where did you get this?" Snape asked sharply. "You shouldn't have access to this."
Robert met Snape's gaze, serious. "I cannot reveal the source. Someone delivered it, likely hoping to manipulate me into serving them. But I sensed ill intentions and refused to comply."
Snape's eyes glinted coldly, and his hand tightened around his wand. "You agreed?"
Robert shook his head. "I knew the risks. I lied to him."
Snape's gaze softened, though briefly. "Knowing his ill intentions, you should have left it alone. You shouldn't even have brought it to me. This knowledge could get you expelled—or worse. Even attempting the first step could lead to a lifetime in Azkaban."
"I needed something from it," Robert said softly. "But I trust you, Professor."
The word "trust" seemed foreign to Snape. Few had ever used it sincerely with him, yet here it was, from Robert, who placed this perilous knowledge in his hands. Snape snorted coldly. "Blindly trusting others is foolish. If you don't change this habit, it may cost you your life."
Still, he could not hide a faint, reluctant smile. After a moment, his attention returned to the parchment.
"This is indeed advanced Dark Arts Transfiguration," Snape admitted, "but it comes with a severe problem. Anyone foolish enough to follow this method for purifying their bloodline will find no way to stop. They would need to continuously add magical animal blood until fully transformed into a non-human state—or suffer unbearable pain. One step down this path is irreversible. The person who gives this knowledge would control them completely."
Robert's heart sank. He knew the danger all too well. Just as Peter Pettigrew had sacrificed his arm to revive Voldemort, gaining a silver arm that monitored him, Voldemort's gifts were never without strings. If others attempted this, even slightly, they would fall into an inescapable trap.
After a deep breath, Robert looked at Snape and asked cautiously, "Professor… can you remove the traps and extract only the useful parts?"
Snape's expression was indifferent. "For what purpose?"
"To plant trees," Robert said honestly.
Snape froze, astonished. If anyone else had said that, he would have dismissed them immediately. But Robert's sincerity convinced him. This boy's focus was entirely on planting trees, not the lure of forbidden power. Snape even found a spark of admiration.
Calmly, he began to revise the knowledge, writing, drawing, deleting, and smudging until a new, safer version emerged.
"This version removes the trap of irreversible transformation," Snape explained. "But heed my warning: Dark Arts Transfiguration—also called Flesh Transfiguration—is forbidden. Once you delve into it, you stare into the abyss. And as you gaze into it, the abyss gazes back."
He studied Robert closely. "You have a will unlike other young wizards. Do not disappoint me. If you ever try flesh modification on yourself—"
A flash of Sectumsempra whistled past Robert's cheek.
"—I will tear it out piece by piece, and you'll end up in Azkaban."
Robert felt a warmth in his chest. This harsh warning was Snape's peculiar way of expressing care. He nodded solemnly.
"Don't worry, Professor. I have no intention of forsaking my humanity."
After a brief hesitation, he added, "Please don't tell anyone. Not even Dumbledore. Otherwise, endless lectures would follow."
Snape raised an eyebrow, sneering. "Since you know, you still dare dabble in such matters at Hogwarts? Hmph. Don't let it happen again."
Robert smiled and prepared to leave, but Snape called him back.
"Oh, and remember the Severus Potion Transformation I taught you. Study it—it will benefit both your Transfiguration and Potions. Also, you have many secrets in your mind now. Next semester, come practice Occlumency with me. I don't want you spilling anything in your sleep and landing in Azkaban. Understand?"
With that, Snape slammed the office door shut.
Robert lingered outside, recalling Snape's tragic fate in the Shrieking Shack from the original timeline. He clenched his fists. This time, he would ensure Snape survived. But the pressure of changing someone's destiny—and contending with Voldemort—pressed heavily on him. The parchment alone had radiated Voldemort's oppressive aura; he could not imagine the Dark Lord at his peak. Less than seven years to be able to face him… Robert quickened his pace. His strength was far from sufficient.
Back in the Little Greenhouse, he opened the modified Dark Arts Transfiguration notes. Though this branch differed from Gamp's Law and Tollerman Transformation, the principles shared many similarities. With his Bronze-Level foundation, learning was rapid. By the second day, his system panel displayed a new message:
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