"Dragon egg?" Anthony said. Leaned closer to examine carefully. "I know you've always wanted a dragon, but didn't you say this was illegal?"
Hagrid uncomfortably shuffled his large feet on the ground. Looked much more sober. "Speaking of which... well, yeah, I suppose that's why the bloke couldn't wait to get rid of it..." He looked at Anthony hopefully. "You'll keep it secret for me, right?"
"Uh..." Anthony asked. "Does the Headmaster know?"
"No, I don't think he's had time to know yet," Hagrid said. "But, of course, he will know. Nothing in this whole castle can be hidden from Dumbledore."
Anthony was somewhat worried Dumbledore already knew. Understand, Hagrid traded—well, gambled, not any better, possibly even worse—a Class A non-tradeable item right under another Dumbledore's nose.
And although the two brothers obviously had a complicated relationship, Anthony would rather believe the Dumbledore at Hog's Head wouldn't watch a dragon egg be brought into school without informing the Dumbledore at Hogwarts.
"You'll tell the Headmaster, right, Hagrid?" Anthony asked. "Since he'll know anyway, might as well say it early."
Hagrid muttered, "Alright, I will... but not now. At least let it hatch..."
Excellent. Let Dumbledore worry about it. Maybe he could build a small castle beside the Acromantula hollow in the Forbidden Forest for Hagrid's dragon baby. Until this dragon someday snatched a princess from somewhere. Anthony hoped that wouldn't be a British royal princess—preferably not Her Majesty the Queen either.
"How long is that?" Anthony was still somewhat uneasy.
Hagrid bent down. Threw two more logs into the fireplace. Poked around making the fire more vigorous. "Depends what kind of dragon. Fastest probably about a month—oh, I need to chop more wood. The bloke who gave it to me said to keep the egg in fire... Real shame, I forgot to ask his name. He really knew magical creatures. Hope to see him again."
"Do you have to keep the fire burning like this?" Anthony frowned. "Weather's getting hotter. People will definitely notice something's wrong."
Hagrid scratched his head.
"You're right, Henry," he asked sincerely. "So do you have any ideas?"
"Put out the fire," Anthony said simply. "Put the dragon egg back in the bag. Tell the Headmaster what happened. Then hatch it in winter when everyone starts burning fireplaces."
"But that's too long!" Hagrid said. Stubbornly looked at the fireplace. "It might not last until then... Dragon mothers don't wait half a year before starting to incubate..."
Anthony said, "Then wait for holidays. Just over a month, students will all go home. You can peacefully prepare for your dragon."
Hagrid exclaimed, "You reminded me, Henry! I should make some preparations for welcoming the little dragon!"
He started rummaging through boxes looking for his yarn and knitting needles. Planning to knit several pairs of woolen socks for the coming new life. Anthony still wanted to persuade him, but Hagrid wouldn't listen anymore.
"I'll tell you when it hatches!" Hagrid said. "You can be his godfather!"
The next day was Monday. Dumbledore still sat in the middle of the staff table. Smiling and welcoming all staff and students coming downstairs for breakfast.
When everyone had eaten about enough, Dumbledore suddenly tapped his cup with a small silver spoon. Stood up. The crisp sound echoed in the hall. People gradually realized the Headmaster had something to say to them. Stopped their conversations. Owls that flew in also folded wings. Stood obediently by dining tables.
"Since everyone's eaten and drunk their fill, I have several things to tell you," Dumbledore smiled. "Course offering intention collection forms have been posted on bulletin boards in each house common room. Please all students pay attention." His bright eyes glanced at those two red-haired twins whispering together at Gryffindor. "I promise that's not some prank."
Some commotion appeared at dining tables. Many students showed confused expressions—they must have rushed over for breakfast after getting up. Didn't notice any bulletin board at all. Anthony saw Hermione roll her eyes. Started quickly explaining something to messy-haired Harry and Ron.
"Also, Madam Hooch asked me to remind everyone, according to supplementary regulations from the Department of Magical Games and Sports, regional referees have authority to modify official rules at their discretion when conducting regional competitions. To balance Quidditch sport's fairness, justice, and entertainment.
"She announces, according to this regulation, the inter-house Quidditch Cup at Hogwarts will implement Hogwarts-specific Quidditch rule standards. For specific details, please have each house team captain find Madam Hooch during free time for further understanding.
"Besides this, I think I must reiterate once more: anyone unwilling to die innocently, please don't step into the corridor on the third floor's right side. The Forbidden Forest, as its name suggests, also forbids student entry—especially recently."
"Especially recently"—Anthony suddenly remembered that dead unicorn. He'd been too busy and almost forgot.
He started discreetly observing professors at the staff table. Except stern Professor McGonagall and expressionless Snape, everyone had some reaction to the Headmaster's words. Professor Flitwick frowned worriedly. Professor Sprout smiled soothingly at students below. Professor Burbage beside Anthony looked at Dumbledore puzzled. Seemed not to understand why he'd reiterate this prohibition. While Filch ominously surveyed all students.
And absent professors were even more. Professor Trelawney always staying in her room gazing at the future. Professor Quirrell who'd started fearing students. Professor Kettleburn with mobility difficulties... and so on.
Among these rarely-appearing professors, the one with best relationship with Anthony was Professor Quirrell. Also the only one he currently sensed had Necromancy aura—the Skeleton Cat's Necromancy, very similar to the Necromancy on the unicorn.
"Finally, as weather gradually gets hotter, besides dinner ice cream, lunch at Hogwarts will also provide iced pumpkin juice, lemon honey water, milkshakes, and ice cream. But lemon ice cream still only at dinner," Dumbledore said happily. Then sat down amid student cheers.
"Professor Quirrell?" Anthony once again knocked on Quirrell's office door. "I'd like to talk with you."
He was unwilling to believe the human who harmed the unicorn mother was Professor Quirrell. But he spent some time visiting other professors (Snape mockingly called him "impulsive social master"). Including those few he'd barely spoken to, even unclear about names—like Astronomy Professor Sinistra who opened the door wearing a nightcap, sleepy-eyed—but didn't smell Necromancy from any of them.
Of course, Necromancy's aura wasn't indelible or unconcealable... as long as people could detect it. After all, so-called "Necromancy aura" and "unicorn's curse" were just some magical marks.
However, from Anthony's current experience, advanced wizards could usually realize that was Dark Magic. But couldn't keenly detect that touch of sunset afterglow from Death like necromancers.
"Professor Quirrell!" Anthony knocked the frame one last time. The garlic stood quietly in the picture's center. Looked like it was about to sprout.
Anthony shrugged. "Alright."
He turned and went to the Owlery. Asked an owl to deliver a letter to Professor Quirrell. For some reason Anthony couldn't understand, no matter where you were, owls in the magical world could find you.
Unless Professor Quirrell also kept a violent Skeleton Cat in his house—this could even explain the scratches he once had and the still faintly present Necromancy—Anthony couldn't think of a reason he wouldn't receive this letter.
In the letter, Anthony told Professor Quirrell that after they killed the Basilisk together that day, he obtained a very interesting magical item (when he wrote this line, the Wraith Mouse was struggling to squeeze through the half-open window crack). But recently related research hit a bottleneck (he still hadn't found a way to bring the mouse home during holidays, which was also the way to bring the Wraith Chicken into school). Asked if Professor Quirrell would be willing to discuss with him tomorrow or the day after.
"Recall past shared experiences, find common interests as entry point, then extend invitation..." Anthony muttered. Tied the letter to the school barn owl's extended leg. Filled its trough with corn kernels and water.
Given his mouse had no interest in various foods, Anthony's drawer now had many nuts and corn kernels. Too many for even students to finish.
After sending the letter, Anthony came down the stairs. While patting feathers off himself, while thinking about what to do if Professor Quirrell refused the invitation. Didn't notice someone rushing up from downstairs.
He was bumped and staggered. Quickly grabbed the railing. Other hand pulled up the student who fell sitting on stairs. "Sorry, are you alright—Parkinson?"
Pansy Parkinson exclaimed. Hurriedly covered her face with hands. Screamed, "No! I'm not!"
Her swollen eyes filled with tears. Like Hagrid, wore something like a protective mask covering nose and mouth. Hair disheveled. Wizard robes wrinkled.
"What happened to you?" Anthony asked. Crouched down. Carefully examined this lower-year Slytherin. Through gaps between mask and hair, he could see Pansy's face seemed to have some red swollen marks.
Pansy struggled to open her swollen eyes. Seemed only now to see clearly who was before her. She sharply shook off Anthony's hand. Said in a muffled voice, "None of your business!"
"Miss Parkinson," Anthony softened his tone. "Did something happen?"
"Did something happen?" Pansy shrilly repeated. Tears poured from her eyes. "Why don't you ask your good student Davies!"
"Davies?" Anthony asked puzzled. Then realized she wasn't talking about Mr. Davies lying in bed, but that Miss.
Before he could continue asking, Pansy already lowered her head and ran past him. She whistled. A beautiful and fierce owl landed on her arm.
Pansy handed a letter to that owl. "Matilda, give this to Mother."
That owl affectionately pecked her ear. Comfortingly wrapped her head with huge wings—Pansy sobbed loudly—then flapped and flew to the window. Dove flying toward the distance.
Anthony grabbed Pansy as she went downstairs pretending not to see him. Took out tissues from his pocket.
"Wipe yourself, blow your nose—even if you're not Miss Parkinson," he said. "Rest well. Since you've already written home, wait for parents' reply. Whatever it is, don't think about it now."
Pansy looked at him suspiciously. Snatched tissues from his hand. "Easy for you to say." But she stopped on the stairs.
"What did Miss Davies do?" Anthony asked. Took out another box of nuts originally prepared for owls from his pocket. Opened it indicating Pansy take some.
Pansy raised eyebrows. Asked sharply, "Going to stand up for her again, Professor Anthony? Going to lecture me about not bullying classmates?" She said viciously, "Go tell her! Let her hear too—I've already, already, rarely bothered these..." As she spoke, her eyes reddened again.
Anthony said, "Then would you tell me what I should say to Miss Davies? What kind of lecture do you think she should hear?"
"Just that stuff about not bullying classmates!" Pansy said loudly. Pulled down the mask from her face. Stretched her neck showing Anthony her face. From nose downward, extending to collar, all red swollen festering scars. Both like burns and corrosion.
Anthony was startled. "Did you go to the Hospital Wing, Miss Parkinson?"
"I don't need to!" Pansy said with raised head. "I want to keep this evidence until Davies receives her deserved punishment!"
Anthony firmly refused. "No. You'd better go now—do you have class next, Miss Parkinson?"
"I asked for leave," Pansy said. Voice lowered again. "I can't appear before Draco like this."
Anthony almost sighed.
"You're unwilling to appear before Mr. Malfoy like this, but want to keep them until—until Miss Davies is willing to take responsibility?" Anthony asked. "Not mentioning how likely these wounds are to worsen, have you really seriously thought about this, Miss Parkinson?"
Pansy said stubbornly, "I'm not going to the Hospital Wing."
"I'm afraid that's not for you to decide, Parkinson," Anthony said. "Come on, I'll take you—we'll take the staff passage. I promise hardly anyone will see you."
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