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Anthony woke to brightness that morning. He'd forgotten to close the curtains.
Last night he'd planned to find Hagrid, but Professor Sprout—heading out to collect Fluxweed—caught him. Dragged him along to help. He'd only managed to leave a note for sleeping Hagrid on his way back, telling him he wanted to grab drinks. Last time he'd passed the hut, he'd smelled alcohol. Knew Hagrid had bought plenty of good stuff from the pub again.
Fang must've caught his scent outside. Excitedly threw himself at the door, scratching the boards. But Hagrid's snoring rhythm stayed steady. Completely undisturbed by Fang.
Tap tap tap.
A barn owl stood outside the window. Saw him about to leave for washing up. Politely knocked on the glass. Anthony cautiously surveyed the room before opening the window. Sure enough—his cat crouched in the corner, watching intently. Tail swishing with interest.
"Don't," he warned. Opened the latch.
The owl immediately hopped in. Raised its leg, presented the small note tied there. Hagrid's note. Just one simple sentence: "Course, how about tonight?"
Anthony circled "tonight," drew a smiley face, tied the note back. Under the cat's gaze, the owl stared at the wraith mouse sleeping soundly in the pile of parchment on the desk.
Hagrid stood at the hut door to greet him. Already dark. His massive silhouette became a shadow in the lamplight. Messy hair and coat edges outlined in warm golden glow.
"Henry!" he shouted loudly. Raised his hand. Waved.
Anthony walked quickly over. Handed him the bottle he'd brought. "Why standing outside?"
"Didn't know when you'd come. Came out to look." Hagrid said. Behind him, a large dog enthusiastically jumped on Anthony. Drool dripping as it tried to wash his face.
"Fang!" Anthony tilted his head back. Struggled to push it away. "All right, all right, I'm happy to see you too... been a while..." Hagrid grabbed Fang's collar. Dragged him aside. Anthony sighed in relief. Walked around the big dog into the house.
He hadn't seen Hagrid in a while. Sometimes when he had time, Hagrid was busy with magical creatures in the Forest. When Hagrid was free, Anthony got busy—either preparing lessons, teaching, or in the library or staff room. Didn't step outside the castle all day.
But when he didn't want to continue studying theoretical models or magical history, Hagrid was the first person he thought of. Like Tom at the Leaky Cauldron said—nobody disliked Hagrid. Especially when drinking.
"How've you been?" Anthony clinked glasses with Hagrid. Asked.
Hagrid drained his glass. Shook his head. "Busy as anything. Spring, you know—everything happens. Hibernators all come out. I gotta count approximate numbers... Dumbledore's requirements..."
Anthony sympathetically poured him another glass. Slowly drank the brandy Hagrid provided. Fang put his head on Anthony's thigh. Looked at him hopefully. Then at Hagrid.
"Oh, speaking of Dumbledore..." Hagrid pushed back his chair. Got up. Walked to Fang's treat cabinet. Pulled out a large package. Thunk—set it on the table. "For you, Henry."
Fang, who'd been excitedly circling Hagrid, followed him back confused. Sniffed the bag. Lost interest. Flopped back under the table.
Anthony untied it. Looked inside. Packed full of dried Plimpy. Their legs tangled in strange shapes. Tiny scales still gleaming.
"Freshly made," Hagrid said, rubbing his big hands. "Hope your little ones like 'em."
Anthony tied the bag. Picked it up. Set it by his feet. "Brilliant, thanks. But what's this got to do with the Headmaster?"
These dried fish had more connection to Professor McGonagall than Dumbledore.
Hagrid said, "Blimey, forgot to tell you. Dumbledore told me everything. Henry, Aragog was so pleased... he wouldn't say so, but I could tell..."
Ah. The Basilisk.
"Just what I should've done," Anthony said. "Speaking of which—now that we've proved Aragog didn't kill Myrtle, shouldn't you get compensation for being wrongly accused?"
He'd originally wanted to ask if Hagrid could re-register for school. But remembering even he'd become a professor due to being overage, Hagrid—much older—probably couldn't go back to school either.
On the other hand, even if procedures allowed it, Hagrid might not want to abandon the Forest creatures and his hut. Bring pets Hogwarts didn't allow—whether Acromantula or dog—to learn about goblin rebellions from scratch.
Hagrid drained another glass. "Yeah, Dumbledore said the Ministry'll clear my murder record. I can cast openly now." He thought. "Still getting used to it."
"That's compensation?" Anthony said. "They should've done that anyway."
Hagrid shook his head. Said in a muffled voice, "Dumbledore said just Aragog was enough for plenty of regulations. He always believed I didn't kill anyone—he's a good man, great man—back then he convinced the Headmaster to keep me, comparing against, er, regulations about Acromantulas."
Anthony understood. Like he'd experienced—Dumbledore found ways around the Ministry. So the intended punishments became just noise.
He and Hagrid drank to the incompetent Ministry.
Anthony discovered something. Hagrid had a bad habit.
After drinking quite a bit, he insisted on taking Anthony to see Aragog.
"He'll be so happy!" Hagrid said. Voice loud as thunder. "Come on, Henry, let's have drinks with Aragog!"
"What if he's already asleep..." Anthony said.
"He won't be. I know him." Hagrid said confidently. "I gotta introduce you! You helped so much!"
Anthony tried reasoning with him. "But I already know Aragog."
Hagrid grew happier. "Really? Don't remember that. Ha! You're already friends? Come on, three friends drinking together!"
Anthony nodded helplessly. "All right." He set down his glass. Put on his coat. Reminded Hagrid not to wear those dragon-hide boots with holes.
Hagrid ignored his shoes. Just enthusiastically told Anthony about Aragog this and that. Fang tried to follow. A few words sent him back inside. Anthony waved at the big dog pressed against the window. Turned to follow Hagrid toward the pitch-black Forest. Felt oddly expectant.
Last time visiting the Acromantula was winter. They'd met Centaurs then.
Anthony wondered what surprises a spring night in the Forbidden Forest might bring.
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