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Chapter 340: Hagrid: Can't Remember
Hagrid blinked, then muttered awkwardly, “He… was injured…”
He recounted the whole story, and just then, Madam Rosmerta brought over the Honeywine he’d ordered.
Remus Lupin listened, then exhaled deeply—part pride, part worry. “Harry’s far better than we were back then. He’d even risk his life for an enemy… Just like James Potter and Lily Potter…”
“Mmm,” Hagrid grunted, nodding forcefully and taking a long swig. “This time, it was Wade and Harry who saved me. Otherwise, I might’ve lost my job as Gamekeeper.”
Remus shook his head. “Malfoy doesn’t have that kind of power. If he wanted to get rid of you, he’d have to get rid of Dumbledore first.”
“Yeah,” Hagrid said, his voice thick with emotion. “Professor Dumbledore’s always trusted me. If I’d messed up on my very first day, I don’t know how I’d face him… Thank goodness today’s lesson went so well. The kids helped me a lot.”
He sighed, staring into his cup. When he’d first been hired as a Professor, he’d been overjoyed. But once he’d actually started the job, he realized how different it was from being Gamekeeper.
Back then, he’d just patrol the school grounds once or twice a day, making sure students didn’t sneak into the Forbidden Forest and get hurt. When he wasn’t doing that, he’d grow vegetables, keep pets, or tend to livestock. No real responsibilities, no heavy worries.
Now, as a Professor, he’d grown fond of the students, and they’d come to trust him more. But some still looked down on him, treating him like a mere hired hand. That hurt.
He’d thought becoming a Professor would finally earn him the respect and affection he’d always wanted. But now, he was burdened by responsibility, constantly watched by students, judged by outsiders—pressure weighed heavily on his heart.
How should he prepare his lessons? How should he assign tasks? How could he keep those unruly students in line?
So much to learn. He’d wanted to tell Dumbledore he wanted to quit—more than once—but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. So he gritted his teeth and kept pushing forward.
Today, though, had been a success. The students had responded well. Hagrid had felt a flicker of hope, a sense that his efforts actually meant something.
Now, under the influence of the wine, he poured out all the worries he’d been carrying—word after word, in a rambling, heartfelt stream.
Remus listened carefully, offering thoughtful advice from time to time.
“Flobberworms are ridiculous. No student would ever like them. Fire Crabs are better, but you’ve still got to watch safety.”
“Assignments don’t need to be complicated. Just one essay per week—start simple, maybe just a few inches long.”
“Why not ask Professor Kettleburn? He lives in Hogsmeade, not far from here.”
“Professor Kettleburn’s been teaching that class for decades. He’s dealt with every kind of situation. He’s got endless experience. And he knows exactly what’s on the Ordinary Wizarding Level and Ultimate Wizarding Level exams.”
“Right!” Hagrid agreed. “I’ll go see him tomorrow morning… No, wait—tomorrow morning I’ve got a class. I’ll go at noon. He really likes Nobeta. If I bring him a few scales from Nobeta… Oh!”
Hagrid suddenly remembered—he’d already given all his Dragon scales to Wade.
But that wasn’t a problem. He could go see Nobeta first. And since he’d be taking Little Malfoy along anyway, he could finish their little deal—collect a few scales—then go talk to Professor Kettleburn.
Hagrid mentally listed his tasks. Suddenly, what had felt overwhelming became clear and simple. All thanks to Remus’s advice.
Then, slowly, he remembered: Remus hadn’t invited him just to chat.
“Hey, Remus,” Hagrid asked. “What was it you wanted to ask?”
“Well…” Remus set down his nearly untouched glass of snow pear soda, pausing to choose his words. “I’d like to know… who was at Hogwarts during the summer holiday?”
Hagrid set down his glass and thought hard. “Oh, that’s a lot of people—more than usual.”
“Dumbledore, me, Filch—we’ve always been here.”
“Plus, journalists from The Daily Prophet came to interview. They took photos of the Chamber of Secrets and the Snake Skin Shed. Professor McGonagall accompanied them—probably because the Serpent Monster bodies were in Snape’s possession. Someone even interviewed Snape. He was here for a few days.”
“America’s Ilvermorny, France’s Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang all sent Professors. They were here to discuss something important. Most of the faculty were on campus during that time.”
“Wait,” Remus said, eyes narrowing. “Ilvermorny, too?”
If it had just been the other two schools, he’d have guessed it was about reviving the Triwizard Tournament—something that had been dormant for centuries. But with Ilvermorny involved, he wasn’t so sure.
“Yeah,” Hagrid grumbled. “They kept wandering around the Maze area. Someone even tried to steal our Tree Guardian. I stopped them. Thieves!”
Remus pressed on. “And… between July 16th and 19th—was anyone here?”
Hagrid froze. His mouth hung open. He stared blankly, trying to recall.
“…What time did you say?” he finally asked.
Remus sighed. “July 16th to 19th. That was when the Streaming Mirror first went on sale in Diagon Alley. Harry’s battle against the Ball Python was aired. Hogsmeade must’ve been buzzing with discussion—just a few days before that. You should remember, right?”
Hagrid’s face lit up. “Ah—of course! I remember now. That was the time when owls were flying in from everywhere! I thought to myself—‘No holiday students are here, so who are all these owls delivering to?’”
He paused, then frowned, his brow furrowing into a deep knot.
Silence stretched. Minutes passed.
Finally, Hagrid shook his head, apologetic. “Sorry, Remus. I just… can’t remember.”
“I only remember Aragog wasn’t feeling well. I was worried about him all the time. That’s all I could think about.”
Aragog—the Acromantula Hagrid had raised since childhood. Remus and his friends had even met him during one of their nighttime trips into the Forbidden Forest.
Remus already knew the answer from Hagrid’s expression. He let out a quiet sigh. “Alright. Never mind.”
He’d hoped the summer holiday would be a quiet time, with few visitors—making it easier to narrow down suspects. But now, knowing Hogwarts was far from empty, he felt hopeless.
Even if Hagrid did remember who came and went, he was busy eating, resting, and patrolling. The person who entrusted the will might’ve come and gone without Hagrid even noticing.
The investigation had hit a dead end.
But… no news might be good news.
Remus tried to stay optimistic, pushing himself to see the silver lining. But deep down, he couldn’t help feeling uneasy.
(End of Chapter)
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