"Alright, alright—let's bench the discussion about our return journey for when we actually need to head back." Harry's voice cut through the increasing awkwardness. "Right now, we're burning moonlight. We should get moving toward Hagrid's hut before it gets any later."
His intervention served multiple purposes simultaneously. By redirecting attention from Tom's uncertain concealment method to their actual objective, he preserved his friend's dignity while also preventing the group from splitting over disagreements before they'd even begun their adventure.
The group began moving along the narrow path that wound toward the Forbidden Forest's edge, where Hagrid's hut sat like a guardian post between civilization and wilderness.
Tom fell into step behind the others without protest, silently tucking his bedsheet back. He could have simply teleported the entire group directly to their destination but since everyone seemed genuinely enthusiastic about the walk itself, he saw no reason to impose his efficiency on their experience.
As they walked, Harry's enthusiasm bubbled over into eager introduction, wanting to share his appreciation for Hagrid with his new friends.
"Hagrid is absolutely wonderful. He's the kindest person I've ever met." Harry's pace quickened slightly as he spoke, his energy was rising with each word.
"When my aunt and uncle destroyed all my Hogwarts letters and then dragged me all over the country trying to prevent me from attending, Hagrid personally tracked us down and delivered my letter directly into my hands. On my birthday, no less. It was honestly the best birthday present I've ever received in my entire life."
The story tumbled out with intensity like Harry had been holding it, and now finally had an audience.
"And he brought me a birthday cake and carried it all that way. It had 'Happy Birthday Harry' written on it in green icing." Harry's voice softened with the memory.
"That was the first time in my life anyone had ever made me a cake, the first time I'd eaten something made specifically for me. And the sausages—those were the best things I'd ever tasted."
The moment Harry started talking about Hagrid, his whole face lit up. He couldn't stop — he wanted to share every bit of who Hagrid was with everyone around him.
"Yeah, Hagrid's brilliant," Ron chimed in. "Great person, definitely. Though his taste in animals is... well, let's just say it's a bit unique. He's got this thing for dangerous magical creatures."
Ron's expression showed he found this preference both bewildering and slightly concerning, which was reasonable given that most people preferred their pets to be non-lethal.
"He was asking me about my brother Charlie recently—Charlie works with dragons in Romania and from the questions Hagrid was asking, I'm pretty sure he wants to get himself a dragon."
Ron shook his head with amusement. "Obviously that's not happening though. The Ministry has extremely strict regulations against private dragon ownership. It's completely illegal for people to just keep dragons as pets."
"He's mentioned that to me too," Harry confirmed with a nod. "Said he's wanted a dragon since he was a little boy."
"Hold on." Hermione's voice cut through the casual conversation with sudden sharp focus, her mind was clearly making connections that the others had missed. "You said Hagrid likes dangerous magical creatures? Would that include three-headed dogs by any chance?"
"Three-headed dogs?" Harry blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"
"I'm talking about that enormous creature we encountered in the fourth-floor corridor during our last nighttime misadventure—the one with three separate heads, each the size of a barrel."
Hermione's voice dropped to a whisper. "I looked it up in the library afterward. It's called a Cerberus, or more commonly just a three-headed dog. They're exceptionally rare and exceptionally dangerous magical creatures, originally from Greek mythology but existing in actual magical reality. Given what you've said about Hagrid's preferences for this type of animal, I thought he might know something about it."
She kept one thought to herself: perhaps Hagrid was connected to the Cerberus directly.
The air went quiet for several seconds as everyone processed this suggestion. Harry's expression grew contemplative, then gradually shifted toward grim understanding. As the person in their group who'd spent the most time with Hagrid, Harry possessed context the others lacked.
He remembered Hagrid's mysterious trip to Gringotts on his birthday, how he had retrieved something from a high-security vault on Dumbledore's instructions. He remembered reading in the Daily Prophet days later about a break-in at that same bank, at that same vault, which had been emptied just hours before the attempted theft. And he remembered that trapdoor beneath the three-headed dog, the one they'd glimpsed before fleeing in terror.
The connections weren't difficult to draw once you had all the pieces. The three-headed dog wasn't just living in the castle randomly—it was a guardian, protecting something valuable that Hagrid had transferred from Gringotts to Hogwarts.
"Hold on, you've actually been to that corridor?!"
Hannah, who up until now had been happily riding the thrill of their late-night adventure, went rigid the moment she caught the words fourth-floor corridor and Cerberus.
"Headmaster Dumbledore specifically warned everyone to stay away from there! You actually went and— "
Was this what it meant to be in Gryffindor? They'd barely started term and they'd already broken this many rules. Even the fourth-floor corridor, the one Dumbledore himself had said was off-limits to anyone who didn't wish to die a most painful death, they had already been inside?
This was truly...
"So cool!"
Hermione, who had been quietly panicking and shooting Harry desperate looks begging him to change the subject, snapped her head around. Her eyes went wide as saucers.
...Was that really the appropriate reaction?
But then, children remained children regardless of House. The desire to explore the forbidden, to test boundaries, to experience adventures rather than merely hear about them secondhand—these impulses transcended the artificial divisions of school sorting.
Everyone wanted to feel like they were living an exciting story rather than just trudging through mundane routine.
"That's right—it happened over the weekend, just a few days ago," Harry confirmed, recognizing that further concealment would be both impossible and unnecessary.
He'd already come to think of Tom, Ariana, and Hannah as friends, and there was nothing to hide. "Filch was chasing us—we'd been out after curfew and he'd spotted us and, in our panic, to escape, we accidentally ran into that corridor. That's when we saw the three-headed monster. Honestly, if it hadn't been caught off-guard by our sudden appearance, it probably would have eaten us before we could retreat."
Though, Harry thought privately, it's also possible Hagrid had told it not to attack students.
He kept that thought to himself.
[Wait, you said this happened over the weekend? Which night specifically? Was this two nights ago?]
Tom, who had been calmly admiring the view, went very still. So that was who nearly got him and Ariana caught, these three?
"Yeah, and Neville was with us too," Ron continued, completely oblivious to the significance of what he was revealing. "The whole thing was Malfoy's fault actually—he challenged Harry to a duel at midnight as a setup, tried to get us caught by Filch deliberately, but it backfired because..."
Ron continued rambling on the story, providing details about Draco's role and various other complications.
But Tom had stopped listening to the specifics, because none of the additional context mattered compared to the central revelation: these people had nearly gotten him exposed.
As Tom stared at Harry and Ron, his yellow eyes took on a particular gleam that those familiar with cartoon justice would have recognized immediately.
'(╬￣皿￣) Perfect. So it was YOU lot who almost cost me my dignity. Well then, I suppose you should prepare yourselves for appropriate compensation. Consider this fair warning: revenge is coming, and it starts with you two.'
His gaze moved to include the others in his mental list. Neville, who'd been part of the group that night. Hermione, whose rule-following speech hadn't prevented her from participating in the adventure. And of course, Draco, the architect of the whole mess, the one who'd set this chain of events in motion.
He just needed to think carefully about how to handle each one.
At that very moment, back in his dormitory, Draco suddenly sneezed loudly.
He froze, looked anxiously around to make sure his roommates were still asleep, then let out a quiet breath of relief and got back to whatever he'd been secretly doing.
The group continued their walk through the gathering darkness, their conversation weaving between Hannah's eager questions about the three-headed dog encounter, Ron's increasingly embellished retelling that added dramatic details to make himself sound braver, Hermione's periodic corrections when Ron's narrative departed too far from factual accuracy, Tom's silent plotting about future revenge, and Ariana's soft laughter at the entire conversation playing out around her.
Gradually, through the trees ahead, the warm glow of lamplight became visible. The outline of a small wooden structure emerged from the darkness.
Before the group even reached the door, sounds emerged from inside. A dog's deep, resonant barking echoed against the walls. Then came Hagrid's loud and cheerful voice.
"Quiet, Fang! I'll take you out in a minute, just hold on!"
The familiar voice brought an immediate smile to Harry's face. He stepped forward and knocked on the door.
"Coming, coming! Bit late for visitors though, wonder who..." Hagrid's voice grew louder as he approached. The door creaked open a few inches, revealing a slice of his large, bearded face peering out cautiously.
When his eyes registered the group standing on his doorstep—some faces familiar, others new, his expression transformed into pure delight. His smile was wide enough to be visible even through his wild black beard.
"Harry! Wonderful to see you again, come to visit your old friend Hagrid! And Ron too—you'll have to tell me more about Charlie and his dragon work, I've got so many questions! And you lot—"
His eyes swept across the others, "—oh, you're Ariana, aren't you? Dumbledore mentioned you. Very pleased to meet you properly!"
His gaze continued across their group, taking in the less familiar faces with the curiosity. Hagrid's default assumption was that friends of Harry were automatically friends of his.
"And these others... Harry, aren't you going to introduce your new friends to— wait. Wait just a moment. Is that..."
His voice trailed off as his eyes finally focused on Tom. The blue cat sat primly beside Hannah, looking innocent and entirely unbothered by the attention.
Hagrid's entire body went rigid. His eyes widened to an almost comical degree.
And then, with sudden desperate motion, he stumbled back several steps and fumbled a handkerchief from his pocket—though calling it a handkerchief was generous.
The cloth was roughly the size of a small tablecloth, which made sense given Hagrid's size. He pressed it against his nose and mouth in a belated attempt at protection.
But the timing was too slow. The allergen had already reached him.
"AH—CHOOO!"
The sneeze that erupted from Hagrid wasn't merely loud—it was seismic.
The force of it shook the doorframe and rattled the windows. From Tom's perspective in front of Hagrid at cat height, the expelled air felt less like a sneeze and more like a hurricane.