That morning, Harry received a letter from Hagrid inviting him over for a visit. Without hesitation, Harry agreed. After all, he had been bottling up frustrations from recent events, and he needed someone to vent to. He decided to bring Ron and Hermione along to the little hut.
As they approached, they noticed a crossbow and a pair of oversized rubber boots outside the door.
"Whoa, Harry, these shoes are huge! And they stink!" Ron exclaimed, curiosity leading him to inspect the boots closer. A wave of foul odor hit him, causing his face to scrunch up in disgust.
At that moment, Ron's twisted expression was, to put it mildly, hideous.
Seeing this, Harry and Hermione burst into unrestrained laughter. Their outburst, though lighthearted, provided Harry with some relief from the frustration of having Snape dock points off him during Potions class.
"Woof, woof, woof!"
The sound of a dog barking came from within the hut, drawing the trio's attention.
Harry stepped forward and knocked on the door, calling out, "Hagrid, it's me, Harry."
From inside, Hagrid's deep voice answered, "Back up, Fang. That's right, stay still now, good boy!"
The door opened, revealing Hagrid's bearded face. With a hearty laugh, he said, "Harry, you're finally here! And you've brought along two friends!"
As they entered, they saw Hagrid holding a large black dog on a leash.
Ron jumped in surprise, scrambling behind Harry for cover. His squinting eyes widened as he exclaimed, "Wow, that's a massive dog!"
Hermione, however, remained unfazed. Glancing at Fang, she commented coolly, "He looks big, but I'd bet he's just a scaredy-cat."
"Why?" Ron asked, clearly puzzled.
"Because despite his intimidating size, his body language and voice are trembling," Hermione explained confidently.
To prove her point, Hermione approached Fang and made what she thought was a fierce face—though it was more adorable than anything.
Under everyone's gaze, Fang immediately bolted behind Hagrid, hiding at his feet and refusing to look at Hermione.
Crossing her arms, Hermione smirked. "See? He's just a big coward."
Harry and Ron stared at the trembling Fang in disbelief.
"This dog... really lives up to his name," Harry thought.
Meanwhile, Hagrid looked at Fang with a mix of awkwardness and disappointment. As much as he loved the dog, he couldn't help but feel a bit let down.
"Fang, no meat for you today!" Hagrid scolded, dragging the dog to the door and leaving him outside.
The hut itself was small—cramped, even, for someone of Hagrid's size. Its ceiling hung with hams and pheasants, while a copper kettle boiled over a fire. In one corner stood a large bed covered with a patchwork quilt.
Seeing the modest setup, Harry was momentarily stunned. Though he knew Hagrid lived simply, he hadn't expected such frugality. Sympathy welled up in his heart, and his gaze softened with trust and warmth toward his friend.
Introducing his companions, Harry said, "Hagrid, this is Hermione, and this is Ron. They're my good friends."
Hagrid poured boiling water into a large teapot and placed a few rock cakes on a tray.
"Red hair, freckles—you must be a Weasley," Hagrid said to Ron. "Fred and George—what are they to you?"
"They're my brothers," Ron replied, already bracing himself for what was to come.
"Those twins are a menace! Always sneaking into the Forbidden Forest and giving me no end of trouble driving them out!" Hagrid grumbled, his tone exasperated.
Ron grinned mischievously. "Feel free to grab a frying pan and smack their behinds next time. They might actually learn a lesson. That's how my mum disciplines them."
Harry laughed at the image. "Ron, are you sure you haven't been on the receiving end of that frying pan too?"
Ron's face turned red with embarrassment, memories of his own punishments flashing through his mind.
Meanwhile, Hermione picked up one of the rock cakes out of curiosity. She gave it a squeeze, only to find it hard as stone. Tentatively, she bit into it—immediately regretting her decision.
"This is the hardest thing I've ever eaten! I think I've chipped a tooth!" Hermione exclaimed, looking defeated. "Even reheating it in a frying pan wouldn't make it edible."
Harry and Ron, intrigued, each took a piece to try—and quickly joined Hermione in clutching their aching jaws.
Hagrid, noticing their discomfort, grew even more embarrassed. What he considered chewy and delightful was practically inedible to normal humans.
In an attempt to shift the focus, Harry recounted recent events at school, particularly Snape's behavior during Potions class.
Hagrid referred to Filch, the castle caretaker, as "that old fool," eliciting a round of laughter from the trio. Filch, known for his unpleasant demeanor and vendetta against students, was often the target of jokes.
Harry then brought up his encounters with Snape.
"Hagrid, I can't shake the feeling that Snape really hates me," Harry admitted, rubbing the scar on his forehead. "On the night of the welcome feast, he stared at me, and my scar hurt like crazy."
Hagrid laughed dismissively. "Harry, you're imagining things. Why would Snape hate you? As long as you don't get into trouble, he can't do anything to you."
But Harry remained unconvinced. "I'm sure of it, Hagrid. He looked at me, and it hurt. There's no mistake—Snape has something against me."
Hagrid quickly changed the subject, asking Ron about his brother Charlie. "I always liked him—great with animals and resourceful too."
"He's doing well," Ron replied. "He's researching dragons now."
Hagrid's eyes lit up. "Dragons! I'd love to raise one myself someday."
As Hagrid and Ron chatted, Harry couldn't shake the feeling that Hagrid was deliberately avoiding the topic of Snape. Still, one thing was clear to him: Snape harbored genuine hostility toward him.
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