Chapter 254: You Again, Loose-lipped Hagrid!
On Friday, the class bell rang right on time.
Hogwarts’ class bell is manually rung by Filch, with the magical copper bell transmitting through pipes to each classroom and corridor; it sounds very clear inside the castle, but somewhat muffled and hazy for Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures outdoors.
The open grounds on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest were very lively today.
The scruffy half-giant clapped his hands, signaling the third year students to come closer and form a circle, then checked attendance according to the elective list. Thanks to the good impression built up from the previous lesson, no one had dropped the class, and no one was late.
Not a single one of those Slytherin guys dropped the class?
Harry and Ron huddled together, muttering under their breath while secretly observing.
Hagrid was a Gryffindor student during his school days and usually got along well with Gryffindors; nearly all the students in this year had elected to take this course, and quite a few from Slytherin had chosen Magical Creatures too, both boys and girls, with Malfoy and his cronies being particularly conspicuous.
There were also a few unfamiliar faces: the troublesome Pansy and Daphne, the burly Millicent, Hermione’s opponent from last year’s Dueling Club.
“The effect from last lesson was great. At dinner, I applied to the headmaster to show you something exciting. Dumbledore had no objections, but Professor Levent and Professor McGonagall suggested I teach Flobberworms this lesson.
“But I figured they’re not professors of Care of Magical Creatures.
“So I told Headmaster Dumbledore that you’ve all performed outstandingly, mastering many techniques from Defence Against the Dark Arts, Dueling Club, and Charms, knowing how to interact with dangerous creatures and protect yourselves. I trust your abilities. In fact, the creature we’re showing today isn’t that dangerous— just 3X level, a bit bigger than an owl. As long as everyone stays calm and follows the instructions, today’s lesson will be unforgettable.
“Now, follow me…”
Hagrid led the students toward the paddock, where those 3X-level creatures appeared before them, causing the little witches to cover their mouths and scream.
“Hippogriffs!”
Two strangely ferocious beasts were tethered to the fence; they were a cross between horse and eagle, with the body, hind legs, and tail of a stallion, but the front claws, wings, and head of an eagle. Their sharp beaks gleamed with metallic luster in the sunlight, and their orange eyes were bright yet gentle.
Heavy iron chains were looped through the fluffy feathers around their necks, but these creatures didn’t seem annoyed at all, instead lowering their heads to nibble at the grass.
“Alright, about these guys, there are some precautions you need to know. We’ll cover theory for the first half of the lesson—listen carefully. If you want to ride them over the Black Lake and castle in the second half…”
The half-giant professor flaunted his clumsy rhetoric, but it effectively captivated this group of thirteen- and fourteen-year-olds. They all craned their necks; the girls shrank back in fear, while the boys were eager to try, listening to the lesson while fantasizing about the glory to come.
“The steps are simple: walk up to them. When they notice you, bow. If they’re willing to accept your scent, they’ll bow back. If they don’t bow, it means you weren’t sincere enough just now…”
Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall agreed to let Hagrid demonstrate these teaching aids because hippogriff injury cases were extremely rare, and their danger rating had dropped repeatedly over the years. If not for their size and sharp claws, they’d probably be sitting at the table with vixens.
Only Melvin thought he couldn’t supervise too many hippogriffs at once and insisted on reducing the number to just two, so he could control any situation and avoid accidents.
The following demonstration went fairly smoothly. Hagrid first divided them into houses: Gryffindor and Slytherin, then lined them up by classroom performance—the outstanding and proactive ones went first, while the sloppy or hesitant ones waited at the back.
“Anyone want to go first?”
Hagrid asked somewhat nervously. Despite the groundwork, he still worried the students might not give him face.
“I’ll go!” Harry responded immediately.
The skinny boy with glasses walked forward slowly, awkwardly attempting to communicate with the hippogriff, staring into those orange eyes, bowing stiffly in a slightly comical posture.
Everyone held their breath.
The sound of wings unfurling echoed through the quiet Forbidden Forest. Ron and Hermione slowly tilted their heads back, watching the beast bend its scaly forelegs, lowering its body to let the boy mount its back before flapping its wings and turning into a black shadow.
“That’s so cool,” Ron muttered.
“Looks easy…” Draco tilted his head back, a glint in his eyes. “Just need a bit of patience.”
In the second Care of Magical Creatures lesson of the term, on Friday afternoon, the black hippogriff soared over the Forbidden Forest grounds, carrying the thirteen-year-old Harry on a tour of the castle and Black Lake.
The half-giant’s Care of Magical Creatures class had a splendid start.
Harry buried his hand in Buck’s soft, warm neck feathers, glanced at the reflection of the Black Lake below, then looked up at the towering spires of Hogwarts Castle.
After circling around, with his hair windswept into a bird’s nest, he landed back in place, pushed up his slipping glasses, and dismounted the hippogriff somewhat reluctantly.
“Well done! Buck!”
Hagrid tossed a strip of pickled ferret jerky into its mouth. “Next group: Hermione Granger, Parvati Patil.”
“Next group: Neville Longbottom, Ron Weasley.”
The rest of the lesson went fairly smoothly; the hippogriffs learned to fool around, no longer taking long flights around the school but just circling near the Forbidden Forest before landing quickly for ferret jerky.
The students lined up orderly, anxious yet waiting their turn to face the hippogriffs. Some were sloppy in attitude, but after Dean’s failed demonstration got him mercilessly sent back by Hagrid, the others straightened up.
This guy tried to act cool just before mounting Buck, flicking the eagle beak playfully, nearly getting kicked off by the annoyed hippogriff.
“Next group: Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson.”
Draco pondered whether to feed Buck a strip of ferret jerky first to bribe it for a longer flight, while Pansy looked pale, unwilling to approach but worried about losing face by backing out.
“If those guys can do it, it must be super easy!” Pansy drawled shrilly. “This thing isn’t dangerous at all, is it, you ugly beast?”
Before she finished speaking, the chestnut hippogriff’s claw was already raised. Hagrid rushed forward, stuffing a strip of jerky into its mouth and pulling a glass jar containing blue flames from his pocket.
That cluster of blue flames emitted a not-very-bright but exceptionally gentle glow.
The hippogriff blinked, stunned in place, too slow to get angry before its mouth was stuffed.
Nearby Buck narrowed its eyes in extreme human-like contentment. The provoked hippogriff seemed ready to flare up again, but Buck pecked it once, and the two hippogriffs sidled up together, rubbing their heads affectionately against the glass jar.
Like feline creatures finding a big patch of wild catnip, just short of rolling over to expose their bellies and beg for pets.
“Good thing Melvin had the foresight…” Hagrid sighed in relief, tentatively pulling back the blue flames, only to get nudged by Buck, his ribs aching as he nearly toppled backward.
He had to withdraw his hands and gave the students behind a helpless look:
“As you can see, the hippogriffs aren’t cooperating, so we can’t continue the demonstration. Class dismissed for today.
“This week’s homework is to write a paper on them, due next Wednesday.
“Dismissed!”
Draco stood about a dozen feet from the hippogriffs, opened his mouth, but said nothing in the end. He glared at Pansy, then stormed off with his two burly cronies.
Ron saw the frustration on his face and grinned. “Malfoy’s pathetic—almost his turn, and he’d hidden a strip of ferret jerky in advance, but he didn’t even get to take off…”
“Heh heh…”
“Hermione, why aren’t you laughing?”
“I have nine papers due this week. I can’t laugh.”
“Huh? What?”
“Nothing…”
Hermione rubbed her brow, feeling the exhaustion in her heart nearly overwhelming, but she still took a deep breath of fresh air and went to help Hagrid clean up and soothe the two hippogriffs.
Harry and Ron exchanged a glance, saying nothing but sharing the same puzzled expression.
It was only the first week of term, yet they’d encountered so many baffling things—plus Professor Lupin, an old friend of their parents; the odd Professor Levent; the escaped Death Eater Black… It all felt like another extraordinary year.
Ron strongly agreed, but he was more concerned with something else: whether Hagrid could give him some extra private tutoring so he could ride Buck for a few laps.
Just as he was about to test the waters and persuade him, the new professor Hagrid patted his chest in aftershock: “Good thing Melvin made me cut the number of hippogriffs from twelve to two. Good thing Melvin gave me the magical flames in advance, or if a student got hurt in the first week of term, I’d be sacked by the school again.”
“Professor Levent gave you this flame?”
Hermione was curious about the blue fire in the glass jar.
“Yes, Melvin’s exclusive magic. It soothes any magical creature—even a fire dragon will roll over and act tame. I wanted to learn it, but Melvin said I couldn’t, and he didn’t know how to teach it either. Probably a talent magic.”
“That’s why you nearly broke your leg last summer vacation, right》”
“Heh heh…”
Hagrid scratched the back of his neck, recalling his own mishap and today’s incident, and sighed. “Melvin was right—magical creatures are still animals, not as smart as people. They show their wild side sometimes. I shouldn’t show students such dangerous creatures. Maybe I should ask Professor Snape for some potions to reduce their aggression.”
“Snape? He’d help you?” Ron scoffed. “He’s just hoping you’ll get sacked.”
“Don’t say that. Snape is dutiful as a professor.” Hagrid ruffled their heads. “Most of the potions in the Hospital Wing are brewed by him, Professor Sprout’s greenhouse weedkillers are his recipes, and he occasionally makes me insect repellent. Lately, he’s been working hard to brew potions for Remus.”
“Professor Lupin’s potions?”
Hermione immediately latched onto the detail.
Harry quickly followed up: “What potions does Defence Against the Dark Arts need? No—Professor Lupin’s potions. Is he ill?”
“N-no… nothing… just some minor physical issues.” Hagrid grew stammering, as if grilled on vital intel, fumbling to demonstrate. “Nothing serious at all. Just needs to take medicine monthly.”
Realizing the second half had leaked info, regret flashed in his eyes, and he clamped his mouth shut.
Hermione’s eyes darted around, then she smiled sweetly: “Hagrid, new term, and we haven’t celebrated you becoming a professor yet. How about a roast meat at your hut this weekend? I’ll bring my dad’s red wine.”
“My mum brewed some fruit wine—I can bring some too!” Ron caught on and chimed in.
Now, not just Harry—even Hagrid realized these kids weren’t celebrating; they clearly wanted to get him drunk and pry intel.
Too clever students—not what professors like!
“No roast meat! No drinking!” Hagrid shoved them away. “You have Dueling Club tonight, Melvin’s tutoring tomorrow night, and I need to prepare lessons. No time this weekend—off you go…”
“I don’t need tutoring. I’ll keep you company for drinks… I mean roast meat.” Ron wouldn’t give up.
“Time for class again—head back to the castle!”
Hagrid hurriedly shooed them off, watching the trio leave before slapping himself hard across the face.
Today’s students are so sharp—can’t they be a bit dumber?
And him too—never learns. How many times now, still leaking intel and news. He’s an old Order of the Phoenix member who’s been through the wizarding war.
Must be the drinking that ruined his brain.
Starting today, no more alcohol!
…
Friday’s last lesson was Potions class.
Snape seemed to be in menopause, his temper even worse than last term. He scowled throughout, grilling Gryffindors repeatedly—not just on this lesson’s content, but on prior knowledge too.
Surprise quiz after two months’ summer vacation—who could prepare for that?
Five students including Harry lost nearly fifteen house points combined, wiping out all the points earned in Defence Against the Dark Arts and Care of Magical Creatures. Even Hermione lost three—for quietly prompting Harry and not prompting Neville, two contradictory charges.
After class, the other students left orderly, but Harry was punished to stay and clean the classroom.
“Look on the bright side—today was just theory, no brewing, so no cauldrons to scrub.” Hermione wiped the blackboard at the front, consoling indifferently.
Ron gnashed his teeth in fury.
They stayed voluntarily to help Harry; three people finished much faster than one. It was Friday’s last class anyway—no big plans.
Harry wiped the lectern: “I feel like Snape’s even more volatile than last term, like someone’s been provoking him.”
“It’s just the start of term—who’d provoke him?” Hermione mused thoughtfully. “Maybe brewing potions for Professor Lupin, so he’s impatient?”
“Hagrid says he’s kind-hearted. Clearly a black-hearted bat.”
“…”
Amid Ron’s indignant cursing, Harry moved the textbooks on the desk and found an expired newspaper underneath.
Last year’s news: front page on the Knightly Order’s award ceremony report.
Recipients: Professor Levent and Potions Master Belby.
Harry shook his head, stuffed the newspaper into the drawer, and wiped faster.
“Speed it up, mates—finish early and head to the Great Hall. Dueling Club tonight.”
