Hagrid's classes had been going surprisingly well lately.
Partly, it was thanks to the new rules—students were behaving themselves for once. More importantly, the lessons had become less dangerous. Whenever they studied formidable magical creatures, Hagrid would first bring in the babies, letting students get familiar with the young before encountering the adults.
"Who can tell me about a Kelpie?" he called out.
"Kelpies are really strong… huge, and pretty fast runners. They like to live in water. They can cause floods or spread plague… They're monsters created from mud by powerful magic…" recited Neville, glancing at the tiny, adorable Kelpie in front of him and feeling a little silly describing it as massive and terrifying.
Hagrid clapped enthusiastically. "Excellent! Two points to Gryffindor.
This Kelpie foal was found by a marsh in the Forbidden Forest. It's been years since Hogwarts has seen a Kelpie born on the grounds.
Don't worry, everyone—come closer! Isn't it cute? Just like the textbook says: serpent's head, leopard's belly, lion's hindquarters, antlers like a stag, and rabbit's paws."
Ron shot a look at Draco Malfoy, who was lurking at the back of the group, and snorted derisively.
Ever since the Hippogriff incident, every time a new creature appeared in Care of Magical Creatures, Draco would hang back, carefully observing the animal's temperament before daring to approach.
When class ended, it was nearly dinnertime.
The trio stayed behind to help Hagrid tidy up the Hogwarts paddock, then followed him back to his hut.
With a broad grin, Hagrid poured each of them a mug of butterbeer.
"You lot haven't visited in ages! This is to make up for missing out on butterbeer last time."
(Butterbeer is a frothy drink—called beer, but really a wildly popular wizarding beverage. It contains only a trace of alcohol, but enough to get a house-elf thoroughly tipsy.)
The three exchanged glances.
Hermione cleared her throat. "Actually, Hagrid, we came to ask you about something."
Hagrid froze, then set his mug down and spoke seriously: "If you're here to ask about that traitor Black, I… I won't say a word.
I know what you're up to. Honestly, I don't agree with Douglas's ideas…"
Ron jumped in, "We're not here about Black—it's about Peter Pettigrew…"
Hagrid looked at them, puzzled. "Peter Pettigrew?"
Harry prompted, "He was the one who finally caught Black!"
Recognition dawned on Hagrid's face, and he let out a sigh of relief. "Of course, I know who Peter is—a chubby little boy, always tagging along behind James… and the others, back at Hogwarts."
Harry leaned forward. "Was he especially close to my dad?"
Hagrid hesitated, then nodded. "Sure, the four of them were always together. Though I'd sometimes hear James and… Black grumble about his grades, said he was a bit slow…
But he was a proper Gryffindor, brave as any. If he'd told me what Black was up to, I'd have torn that traitor to shreds…
Sorry, shouldn't say things like that in front of you… Still, I'm glad I got you out before he did, Harry. Otherwise, he'd have turned you into a wicked little wolf cub. Not that all werewolves are evil, mind…"
Harry exchanged a glance with Ron and Hermione—so Black really was a werewolf.
Hermione interrupted Hagrid's rambling, curiosity piqued. "So you're saying Peter was more of a follower?"
"Er—yeah." Hagrid scratched his head, dragging his thoughts back. "Looked that way. James and Black were inseparable—getting them out of the Forbidden Forest was like chasing out Fred and George. And Peter was always trailing behind them. Really, you should ask Professor Lupin. If James and Black were like brothers, then Lupin was their best mate.
But Peter… I always thought he looked a bit small beside them, kind of eager to please. He really treasured their friendship. Oh, he idolized James and Black—obviously, he picked the wrong heroes, didn't he?"
Hermione frowned, deep in thought.
Harry and Ron looked puzzled. None of this sounded particularly useful.
Unwilling to give up, Harry pressed, "Can you tell us more about Black? Why did my father trust him so much? And when did he become a werewolf?"
Hagrid had his own suspicions—ever since learning Black was a werewolf, he'd wondered if Lupin had accidentally turned him. But that wasn't something you said out loud. He glanced out the window, then turned to the trio. "It's getting late. You can't stay outside the castle much longer…"
On the way back to Hogwarts, Ron grumbled, "We didn't get anything useful. I told you, we should've got Hagrid drunk first…"
Harry glanced at Hermione. She'd been lost in thought ever since Hagrid finished talking. He quickly tugged Ron's sleeve, giving him a look to keep quiet.
Honestly, he had no idea what was worth pondering in what Hagrid had said.
Suddenly, Hermione stopped in her tracks and turned to them. "Do you think Malfoy's goons, Goyle and Crabbe, might ever betray him?"
Both Harry and Ron shook their heads. Ron scoffed, "No way. Those two blockheads don't have the brains for it."
Hermione glared at them. "You've never really paid attention to them, have you? They're always in Malfoy's shadow. Who ever notices them when he's around?
I noticed once, when Ron was talking about the house-elf Dobby, Crabbe gave Malfoy a look—almost like disdain. I think it really was disdain."
Ron perked up. "So if I keep talking, maybe Crabbe will turn on him behind his back…"
He trailed off as Harry turned to Hermione in shock. "You think Peter was like Crabbe—always ignored when he was with my dad, and that's what led him to betray him?"
Ron went silent.
Hermione took a deep breath. "Exactly.
Because whether it's Professor Lupin or Hagrid describing them, Black never sounds like a traitor. Especially when Hagrid said he and James were like Fred and George—Ron, do you think they'd ever betray each other?"
Ron said firmly, "Of course! When George messes up and doesn't want Mum to yell at him, he'll pretend to be Fred—and Fred does the same. So whenever one of them's in trouble, Mum just scolds both."
Harry looked at them, envy written all over his face. He wished he had brothers like that—bickering but inseparable.
Hermione rolled her eyes but pressed on, "But whenever they get caught and punished, it's always together. One never abandons the other and runs."
Harry grinned, "That's because they know there's no escape."
Before Hermione could reply, a cold voice echoed from the shadows by the castle wall:
"Potter. Miss Know-It-All. And Weasley. I trust you realize you can't escape either.
Out after dark—serious breach of school rules. Thirty points from each of you. Now, detention room. Immediately."
The three jumped at the sound. Harry glanced at the not-quite-set sun and protested, "Professor, it's not even dark yet, and the detention room doesn't open until eight!"
Snape's glare grew even more venomous. He nearly snarled, "Backtalk, Potter? Fifty more points gone. If the detention room isn't open, you'll wait outside the door until it is. I'll have Lupin open it early, just for you. Move. Now!"
Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Hermione quickly dragged him away, Ron hurrying after them.
Snape cast a last, dark look at the castle grounds, then strode off toward Lupin's office, his face thunderous.
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