Discovering a Little Fat Sheep (Please Read Further)
"What!" Hagrid's eyes widened in outrage, like a furious giant ready to stomp through the earth.
"Nothing! I just meant we should go look at those adorable magical little—animals."
"No!" Hagrid refused on the spot.
He leaned down, glaring sternly at Owen. "I'll be telling Professor Dumbledore every single word you just said!"
"You stay here. Don't wander anywhere. I'll go buy your wand, come straight back, and then we're heading back to the castle!"
…Okay then.
Hagrid was truly angry.
Maybe it was his deep-seated dislike of a certain bald Dark wizard that made him so sensitive—he even suspected this eleven-year-old of being a future Death Eater.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood frozen as Hagrid stomped out through the doorway, two huge iron buckets swinging heavily from his hands.
"My God—an angry three-meter-tall giant," Ron gasped.
"I thought my ears were going to fall off," he added, clutching his head in relief.
"Owen Sanchez!" Hermione rounded on him instantly. "How could you say something like that!"
"What did I do?" Owen shrugged, baffled by her outrage. "Eating melons is very effective. Everyone who's tried it says it's great gossip. Besides, you haven't tried it. How do you know I'm wrong?"
"Young wizards should be brave enough to try things. Professor Dumbledore said that."
— "Huh?"
Was that even human logic?
Harry choked on air for a moment. After a week at Hogwarts, he was no longer the completely clueless little wizard he had been—now, he was a slightly less clueless one.
Hermione had dragged them to the library every day, determined to "fill the knowledge gap."
They hadn't learned many spells yet, but they had learned plenty of information.
For example, the three Unforgivable Curses.
The Killing Curse.
The Imperius Curse.
The Cruciatus Curse.
The very names felt frightening.
"Are you trying to get Harry to kill Snape? Are you mad?" Ron yelped.
Only Owen—tyrant of bizarre ideas—would suggest a first-year use an Unforgivable Curse on a professor.
"Insane? Where do you get that confidence?" Owen gave them all a look. "I meant letting Snape eat Harry alive! He'd go straight to Azkaban too. Everyone loses. Happy ending!"
"Or do you think you can beat Snape?" he added, turning to Harry.
"Uh—" Harry froze, embarrassed.
For a split second, he had actually thought Owen was suggesting a duel.
Then he realized—
Wait.
This guy was plotting his death.
Straightening up, Harry snapped, "What sort of rubbish is that?"
"You're the one blaming others for your own problems," Owen shot back. "If you had Voldemort's strength, Snape wouldn't even dare breathe loudly in your direction."
The three little wizards turned pale.
Crude words, but… unfortunately, logical words.
They were only eleven-year-olds.
Snape, however, was an adult wizard—skilled, sarcastic, and terrifying.
"Alright, alright. Enough whining." Owen spread his hands, expression deep and knowing. "Whatever happened between our parents doesn't matter anymore. But Snape is who he is. Unless Harry's mum comes back to life, you'll just have to endure him."
"Besides—Harry's dad did steal someone's crush. That leaves some pretty deep wounds."
"What's wrong with him being a little bitter?"
"If someone stole your wife one day, what would you do?" Owen looked at Harry and Ron. "Stand by with a smile and clap while shouting 'Omedetou'?"
"Uh—"
Ron and Harry stared at each other.
What was this conversation anymore?
His logic was bizarre…
But annoyingly, he had a point.
If Harry imagined himself in Snape's position, he couldn't guarantee he'd treat his rival's child fairly either.
"So," Harry said after a long moment of thought, "is there a way to learn spells quickly?"
He stood up abruptly. "You're so strong—you must know something special!"
There it was.
After all that discussion, he still circled back to: Power first.
Owen's eyes glowed. "Young man… are you craving power?"
"I've got a copy of 'Secrets of the Dark Arts' for only 300 Galleons!"
"A three-volume set of 'Into Ancient Magic' for only 997 Galleons!"
"A four-volume set of 'Ghouls: The Perfect Guardians'—only 1000 Galleons!"
"Installment plans available! Up to 24 months!"
"Tempted? If you don't pay, I won't sell! Hurry up and hand it over!"
Harry faltered. "I… I don't have that much money."
"No money?" Owen scoffed. "As if the Potter family would be poor. Didn't your parents leave you a fortune? Want a loan? Fast approval! Gold in two hours! For details, click—wozaijieqianjiushishabi dot com!"
"Uh—" Harry opened his mouth. He did have money… just not that much.
But before he could explain, he froze.
"How did you know my parents left me a lot of money?"
"Me?" Owen blinked innocently. "A guess! The Potters are famous for being rich. Read more books, young man. Don't you even know your own family background?"
Another fat sheep discovered.
And not just any sheep—
A golden one.
Harry might even be richer than Draco. Lucius Malfoy would spoil his son, but he wouldn't hand Draco piles of gold to carry around.
Harry, however…
"Harry! Don't listen to him." Hermione jumped in front of Harry like a shield. She glared sharply at Owen. "He's trying to scam you."
"What's going on in here?"
The door swung open.
Hagrid walked in, iron bucket now empty.
"Alright, you three—back to the castle." He herded Harry, Ron, and Hermione toward the door like ducklings, watching them walk down the mountain path before turning back.