Chapter 108
"That's everything I have to say. I hope you'll all take it to heart."
Moody turned and asked, "Dumbledore, is there anything else you'd like to add?"
"There is one small matter," Dumbledore said, nodding as he stepped forward again.
"Due to certain special circumstances, your professor, Rubeus Hagrid, has been rather busy lately. He will not be remaining at Hogwarts for a period of time. As a result, the Care of Magical Creatures class will be suspended for now and temporarily replaced with another course. I hope everyone can adapt as quickly as possible."
Dumbledore's voice echoed through the Great Hall.
"Well then, I apologize for taking up so much of your time this evening. You may return to your dormitories now. I wish you all a good night and pleasant dreams."
His gentle tone marked the official end of the assembly.
Ron, seated near the front, suddenly went pale. The smug confidence he'd worn earlier vanished completely.
"What happened to Hagrid? Was he arrested because of me? Then I really did something stupid. I have to ask Headmaster Dumbledore myself—he'll definitely help Hagrid. Hagrid's innocent."
With that thought, Ron stood abruptly and pushed against the flow of departing students, forcing his way toward the platform with his uninjured arm.
But someone reached it before he did.
"Professor!" Hermione said urgently, her brows tightly knit. "I've checked most wizarding laws. Hagrid's mistake isn't serious enough for the Ministry to arrest him. At worst, it was a teaching accident. Even Buckbeak's case sets a precedent—they're innocent. And besides, it wasn't Hagrid's fault at all. It was mainly Ron's!"
She couldn't accept the idea of Hagrid being dismissed—let alone imprisoned. Earlier, she'd exaggerated part of the situation to warn Ron, but she hadn't expected her fears to come true.
Dumbledore's expression was peculiar. He looked at Hermione, who was biting her lip anxiously, with a faint, knowing smile.
"If anyone's to blame, blame me!" Ron's voice burst out from behind her. He pounded his chest with his good hand, desperate to prove his sincerity. "It has nothing to do with Hagrid!"
"What nonsense are you talking about?" Hermione snapped, her headache worsening. "Have you thought about how Mrs. Weasley would feel hearing you say that?"
Ron's interference was only making things worse.
"Ahem."
Dumbledore cleared his throat, neatly cutting off the argument before it could escalate.
"Due to an agreement I've made, I can't share all the details," he said calmly. "But I can promise you this—Hagrid is fine now, and he will be fine in the future. You don't need to worry."
That reassurance eased both of them considerably. Professor Dumbledore did not lie to his students.
"But apart from that, I can't think of any other reason for Hagrid's classes being suspended," Hermione said, still uneasy. Her breathing was uneven, and sweat beaded lightly at the tip of her nose.
"Unfortunately," Dumbledore said, shaking his head, "that truly is all I can tell you."
He paused, then added, "Ron, Hermione—when you visit Harry later, please pass along tonight's announcements to him."
"And be sure to tell him," Dumbledore added with a twinkle in his eye, "that he shouldn't expect his clothes to withstand Moody's magical eye. If anything gets confiscated, even I won't be able to get it back."
"Understood," Hermione said firmly, nodding.
"Very good. Now off to your dormitories with you. You've stayed up late enough already. Do remember—no being late tomorrow morning."
With that, Dumbledore turned, his pale blue robes embroidered with stars and moons trailing behind him as he exited the hall. Moody wasn't the only Auror stationed at Hogwarts; arrangements still needed to be made.
Left alone in the vast hall, Ron and Hermione stood facing each other in silence.
Earlier, Hagrid had united them. Now, that reason was gone.
One of them would have to give in first.
---
"Don't tell me you've already used up all the props you bought last time. How were they? Good quality, right?"
"You've got real talent in this area. How about joining us? We'd form the most unforgettable prankster trio in Hogwarts history."
Fred and George spoke in perfect unison, grinning widely as they loomed in front of Malfoy.
Not long ago, the assembly had ended. As students streamed toward their dormitories and converged near the branching staircases, Malfoy stepped directly into the twins' path.
"Oh, I just had a brilliant idea," George said suddenly. "What if we make a magical eye like Moody's? It'd sell like firewhisky."
"Great thought," Fred agreed instantly. "But what about materials?"
"Maybe start with an Acromantula eye?" George mused—then immediately shook his head. "No, too dangerous. Customer safety comes first. And there aren't many sources. If we carved up Hagrid's… well, he definitely wouldn't pass his end-of-term assessment."
"Then maybe—" Fred began, winking conspiratorially.
Before their brainstorming could spiral further, someone coughed lightly.
"Sorry," the twins said together, shrugging. "We got carried away."
"Focus and obsession are prerequisites for success," Malfoy said calmly. "I understand completely. But that's not why I'm here."
"Ears open, listen closely," he added.
With a flick of his wand, Muffliato settled over the surrounding area. Nearby students heard only a vague buzzing, unaware of the conversation being concealed.
"That spell's brilliant!" the twins said in awe.
"If you help me," Malfoy replied, "I'll teach it to you."
Fred's eyes lit up. "Deal."
"You want to blow up the second-floor bathroom?" Fred blurted suddenly.
"Merlin, George—you just exposed our plan!"
Malfoy raised his wand theatrically.
"What were you two just talking about?" he asked blankly.
The twins burst into laughter.
"Alright, jokes aside," Malfoy said, his tone turning serious. "I need your help."
"We're listening," they replied together.
"You know Hogwarts better than almost anyone. I need a map of the castle."
The twins hesitated.
"I know what you're thinking," Malfoy continued. "But Sirius Black already knows this place. What stopped him last time wasn't the corridors—it was the password."
That decided it.
"…Alright," the twins said.
"That thing took ages to draw," Fred muttered.
A brief silence followed.
"Should we give it to him?" George whispered.
"But that's Harry's Christmas present," Fred protested.
"This timing's dangerous," George replied. "And Black's target is Harry."
After a moment, George nodded. "Malfoy saved Ron. And after last term… I trust him."
"But don't tell him how it works," Fred added with a grin.
"Perfect."
"Here," Fred said suddenly, flicking his sleeve. An old, blank parchment landed in Malfoy's hand.
Malfoy's temple throbbed.
The Marauder's Map… already?
"There's nothing on it?" he asked innocently.
"You'll need imagination," George said cheerfully. "Once you figure it out, you won't put it down."
"Alright," Malfoy said. "If it doesn't work, I'll come back."
"One more thing," he added. "I need a magical mouse doll. Exactly like my classmate's rat."
The twins accepted the gold with identical grins.
"Old customer. Guaranteed satisfaction."
"Hey! You three—why aren't you upstairs?"
"Oh no. Filch."
"What are you staring at? Hand over the contraband!"
Without missing a beat, the twins produced a glass sphere.
"Gemini Bomb," they said together.
"Don't touch them!"
"Get down!"
Too late.
Bang.
The explosion rattled the castle.
Students poured from their dormitories—then froze at the sight of Filch, blackened with soot, eyes blazing like a vengeful spirit.
"Lovely weather," someone muttered.
"Perfect for sleep."
They all turned and fled.
As for Malfoy—
He was already gone, disappearing down the staircase.
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