Harry Potter: The Wandmaker

Chapter 234: Hagrid’s Wild Idea

After Care of Magical Creatures class ended, Harold didn't return to the castle with everyone else. Instead, he stayed behind to ask Hagrid a few questions.

"Have you seen a cat in the Forbidden Forest lately?" Hagrid asked as he lifted the Fire Crabs into a large iron bucket, then straightened up to look at Harold.

"Course I have! There are loads of cats in there… even a few kneazles," Hagrid said.

"I mean Tom—my pet. I heard from someone that he might've wandered deep into the forest recently," Harold explained.

"Tom…" Hagrid muttered, recalling a gray-brown cat nearly twice the size of an ordinary one.

He knew that cat well—it had tormented Fang more times than he could count. Fang's habit of trembling at the sight of any cat came straight from that feline terror.

"Think I remember now," Hagrid said, setting the iron bucket aside as he frowned in concentration. "Where was it again… oh, right! Near Fluffy's place—yes, that's it!" He clapped his hands. "Didn't get a good look at first, thought it was a dog—but now that I think about it, it moved far too quick for a dog. Vanished in a blink."

"Fluffy… the three-headed dog?" Harold's voice rose slightly.

"Don't you worry," Hagrid said quickly, assuming Harold was worried about his pet's safety. "Smallest thing Fluffy eats is a deer. He'd never touch your Tom."

"No, you've got it wrong—I trust Fluffy," Harold replied.

Well, truthfully, he trusted Tom.

Normally, Tom would never wander near the three-headed dog's territory. If he'd gone there, it meant he didn't consider the place especially dangerous.

That thought eased Harold's mind a little.

Besides, Tom carried his scent—Fluffy would definitely recognize it.

Harold couldn't say he was close friends with Fluffy, but they had fought side by side once. Surely that earned him a bit of goodwill.

With news of Tom's whereabouts, Harold finally felt at ease. At least he could confirm Sirius hadn't done anything to him.

He followed Hagrid into the hut as they carried the iron bucket—well, Hagrid carried it; Harold just walked behind.

"I've been meaning to ask—where'd you get those Fire Crabs?" Harold glanced at the two jewel-covered creatures crawling inside the bucket. "They're not exactly common. Don't tell me you found them in the Forbidden Forest."

"'Course not," Hagrid said proudly. "They were a gift from Dumbledore—my birthday present, and to celebrate me clearin' my name and becomin' a professor."

Dumbledore, huh?

Well, that explained everything. If anyone could get Fire Crabs, it was the Headmaster.

"The Headmaster really thought this through—these two are even a mating pair." Harold eyed the tips of their tails. "So, what are you going to do with them? Keep them in the Forbidden Forest?"

"Exactly!" Hagrid said enthusiastically. "I've already picked a spot—a little hollow in the southern part of the forest. Two manticores live there, so they'll keep any bad types away."

"Manticores?" Harold raised an eyebrow.

"Don't you think they might, you know… fight?" he asked. "Manticores are rated XXXXX, one of the most dangerous magical creatures alive. Their tempers are legendarily bad. Are you sure they'll tolerate Fire Crabs as neighbors?"

"I think… it'll be fine," Hagrid said, licking his lips nervously.

"What's wrong?" Harold asked, noticing the shift.

"N-nothin'," Hagrid stammered, clearly hiding something. "Just curious why you're askin'. If you fancy one of those Fire Crab gems, I can keep an eye out for you."

"No thanks, I'm not after that," Harold said. "But about the manticores—"

"Oh, look at the time!" Hagrid suddenly interrupted, far more anxious now than before.

He looked toward the window.

"Blimey, it's gettin' late! You'd best get back to the castle or you'll miss supper!"

A minute later, Harold found himself standing outside Hagrid's hut on the stone steps.

He looked up at the sky—it wasn't as bright as before, but certainly not dark. At best, dusk was still a ways off. Dinner wasn't for a while yet.

He could've stayed another ten minutes easily.

Turning back, he saw Hagrid already hurrying into the forest with the iron bucket.

Harold frowned slightly. Could it be… Hagrid already had one of his "creative experiments" in mind?

That would explain his sudden nervousness.

But by now, Hagrid had vanished into the trees, leaving Harold with no way to learn more.

Pity—he hadn't managed to ask for the manticores' exact location.

He sighed.

Creatures rated XXXXX almost always made excellent wand cores—like dragons, or quintapeds.

The first wand Harold ever crafted—the one capable of channeling three spells at once—used the hair of a quintaped as its core.

But aside from dragons, those creatures were so rare they were practically impossible to find.

He waited a bit longer. When dinner was truly about to begin and Hagrid still hadn't returned, he finally headed back toward the castle.

Oh well, he could ask again later. Hagrid couldn't dodge him forever.

Back in the castle, Harold ran into Hermione on her way to the Great Hall. She called out to him and pulled a thick book from her near-bursting bag.

"Here—this might help you."

"What is it?" Harold glanced at the cover—The Book of Potions: The Magical Harmony Between Potions and Wands.

"This is a potion book," Harold said. "But I'm writing my Transfiguration paper—oh, wait, magic principles overlap. I could definitely borrow some ideas from this!"

He smiled. "Thanks, Hermione. But how'd you know I'd find it useful?"

"Because I saw you looking at it in the libr—uh!" Hermione slapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. "I mean—I just saw it earlier and thought you might like it!"

Harold gave her a suspicious look.

Hermione instantly stiffened, clutching her robes at her chest. A glint of gold peeked out from beneath her collar—a necklace chain.

"Really?" Harold said with a grin. "You've got a good eye. I'll definitely make use of it."

"Glad to hear it," Hermione said, letting out a small sigh of relief.

She'd been running herself ragged lately, and in her exhaustion, nearly blurted out her biggest secret. Thank Merlin Harold hadn't caught on.

Otherwise, she had no idea how she'd explain it to Professor McGonagall—especially after promising to keep it a secret at the start of term.

Just then, golden plates filled with heaps of toast and sausages appeared on the tables, followed by steaming stews and crispy roast potatoes. The Great Hall filled with mouthwatering aromas.

"We'd better hurry," Harold said. "Dinner's starting."

Hermione hoisted her heavy bag and followed Harold into the Great Hall.

...

(End of Chapter)