Harry had always thought Professor Trelawney was no different from Lockhart—just another fraud. But after Hermione's nudge, her cryptic words about "someone familiar yet strange" kept circling in his head.
Hermione sat beside him, looking like she wanted to say something but instead dug into her dinner.
"What's on your mind?" George elbowed Harry, nearly sending his treacle tart sliding off his plate. "Fred says we're testing new Dungbombs at the top of the Astronomy Tower tonight. You in?"
"Maybe," Harry replied distractedly, his gaze drifting to the Slytherin table.
Pansy was ranting, throwing venomous glances toward Gryffindor. Draco's face was odd, like he was holding something back.
Weird…
Harry shifted his attention to the staff table. Dumbledore was absent today, but Professor Lupin was watching him. When their eyes met, Lupin gave a small smile.
Could it be him?
Harry decided to ask Hagrid later.
---
At the edge of the Forbidden Forest, twilight spread like melting ink. Hagrid's massive figure led the way, his boots crunching over dry twigs. Harry followed, occasionally glancing back at Hermione, who was tugging Humphrey along on a leash toward the forest's depths.
Hermione had bought the leash over the summer, saying it made her feel like she had a real pet.
"Humphrey's so sweet—why tie him up like that?" Hagrid grumbled in his booming voice, though he kept sneaking glances to make sure Hermione wasn't too far off.
Harry stayed quiet, following Hagrid to an old oak tree where scraps of Norbert's leftovers littered the ground.
"Hagrid, I've got a question," Harry said.
"Fire away, Harry."
Hagrid shoveled the food scraps into a bucket.
"In Divination," Harry began carefully, "Professor Trelawney said I'd meet someone 'familiar yet strange' this term. Do you think… her predictions are legit?"
Hagrid let out a booming laugh. "That old fraud? Her predictions are about as useful as slugs in a cabbage patch!"
"She told me I'd be kicked out of Hogwarts," Hagrid went on. "And look at me, still here as gamekeeper! Haven't the older kids told you? She 'predicts' something for at least ten students every year."
Hagrid stood, clapping Harry's shoulder.
Harry exhaled, relieved to know he wasn't the only one who thought Trelawney was full of it.
"What about… Professor Lupin?" Harry shifted gears. "Did he know my parents? I keep catching him looking at me strangely."
Hagrid's expression softened, his gaze drifting into the forest as if chasing a memory.
"Know 'em? Blimey, Remus was thick as thieves with your dad, James, and… Peter," Hagrid said, grinning to reveal his broad teeth. "The four of 'em—James, Remus, Sirius, and Peter—were inseparable at school. Proper troublemakers, they were. James always said Remus was the brains, though a bit too quiet."
Harry froze. He'd never imagined Lupin had such a deep connection to his father.
No wonder Lupin's looks were so layered—like he was seeing someone else through Harry.
"Why hasn't he told me?" Harry asked.
"Who knows?" Hagrid shrugged. "Remus keeps things close to his chest. But he's a good man. When your dad got caught sneaking out by McGonagall, Remus, as prefect, always covered for him. Drove her up the wall."
Harry nodded thoughtfully, then asked something Hagrid hadn't expected.
"You mentioned Sirius just now. Was he really close with my dad too?"
Hagrid smacked his forehead, looking flustered. "Don't ask, Harry," he muttered, focusing on the scraps. "I can't talk about Sirius."
Just then, Hermione returned, Humphrey hissing complaints behind her. "Master, when can I ditch this ridiculous leash?"
"After the 19th, I promise," Harry said, patting the Runespoor's head.
"What were you talking about?" Hermione asked, a smudge of dirt on her nose.
"Nothing much," Harry said with a smile. "Hagrid says Care of Magical Creatures will show us unicorn foals this term."
Hagrid's ears turned red, though his bushy beard hid it from Hermione. "Really?" Her eyes lit up, and she launched into questions about unicorn habits.
Hagrid nodded along, forgetting their earlier conversation. Watching them, Harry started to think Trelawney's prophecy was probably nonsense.
Lupin might be his dad's friend, but he wasn't exactly "life-changing." Trelawney had just gotten lucky.
Unbeknownst to Harry, a pair of dog-like eyes watched from the forest's shadows. Moonlight flickered through the bushes, where a large black dog lay quietly.
---
The next morning, an eerie atmosphere hung over the Great Hall. Students weren't laughing loudly but whispering in small groups, their eyes darting toward Harry and Hermione, muttering.
"Listen," Hermione said, leaning toward the whispers, her face flushing. "They're saying Hagrid let Buckbeak attack Malfoy on purpose, and you… used your 'Chosen One' status to cover it up!"
The rumors were clearly crafted to smear Hagrid while dragging Harry into it.
Just then, Fred and George swaggered in. They dropped to one knee before Harry.
"Oh, great Chosen One, please use your mighty influence to save poor Fred!" Fred mocked.
"Glorious Harry Potter, we beg your gaze, shower Gryffindor with your favor!" George added.
Their theatrics worked—students who'd half-believed the rumors burst out laughing.
"I'll see what I can do," Harry said, barely hiding his grin. "Now, show me those Dungbombs you mentioned last night. Let's see if they're worthy of the Chosen One's aid."
George handed over a Dungbomb. Harry pocketed it, planning to test it later.
Suddenly, Hermione slammed down her knife and fork, standing up. "I'm going to confront Malfoy! He's definitely behind these rumors, that slimy—"
"Wait," Harry grabbed her arm, frowning. "Doesn't seem like his style."
"How is it not?" Hermione huffed, sitting back down. "He's a Slytherin! Sneaky backstabbing is their specialty!"
"Malfoy's obsessed with seeing Norbert," Harry said quietly. "Hagrid told me last night—Malfoy's been skulking around the forest's edge just to catch a glimpse of that dragon. He's not dumb enough to pick a fight with Hagrid now."
As he spoke, a commotion broke out across the hall.
At the Slytherin table, Draco slammed his hand down, his voice sharp as a cat with its tail stepped on. "Who asked you to meddle?!"
Pansy glared back, eyes red-rimmed. "I was helping you! That half-giant let a monster hurt you, and Potter's protecting him. Are you just going to let it slide?"
"When did my business become yours to manage?" Draco's face twisted with anger, his voice low and warning. "Did you spread those rumors?"
Pansy froze, then jutted out her chin. "So what if I did? Was I wrong? You never used to take this kind of crap—"
"Shut up!" Draco snapped, his eyes icy. "From now on, stay out of my business!"
He grabbed his bag and stormed off, Crabbe and Goyle scrambling after him. Pansy stood alone, her face alternating between pale and flushed.
The other Slytherins pretended not to notice, though their sidelong glances betrayed them.
Harry and Hermione exchanged a look. Pansy was the rumor's source.
"No wonder Malfoy looked like he wanted to strangle her," Hermione whispered, her anger fading, replaced by surprise. "He's actually fighting with Pansy… over Hagrid? Or that dragon?"
Harry didn't reply, watching Draco vanish through the hall's doors.
He recalled Hagrid's vague comment last night: "Malfoy's been keepin' out o' trouble lately… always askin' if he can ride Norbert…"
At the time, Harry hadn't thought much of it. Now, it seemed Draco genuinely saw the Norwegian Ridgeback as his own and was protective of it.
Pansy clearly didn't get it. She still saw Draco as the arrogant prat who'd run to the Board of Governors over nothing, not realizing he was guarding a secret.
Pansy sank back into her seat, poking her sausage with a fork, her eyes lost. She couldn't fathom why Draco, after being hurt, was civil with the "culprit's" keeper.
"He's changed," she muttered to herself, a bitter pang rising in her chest.
A subtle crack had formed between Draco and Pansy, one that couldn't be mended.
Though Draco had made his displeasure clear, the rumors didn't die. Some students' heads were still stuffed with nonsense.
As Draco left the hall, Hermione lowered her voice. "Where do you think he's off to?"
Harry grabbed a roasted goose leg, biting into it casually. "Where else? Probably to see Hagrid."
The savory aroma of the goose leg lingered, and Harry had just speared a juicy piece when Hermione grabbed his wrist.
"Stop eating, Harry!" she said urgently, glancing at the hall's entrance. "Something's off. Malfoy's eyes were weird—he might be going to stir up trouble with Hagrid."
Harry sighed, eyeing the glistening goose leg, crafted with a recipe from some mysterious Eastern land—less sweet, less gamey than British cooking. He hated to abandon it. But Hermione's face was serious, so he reluctantly set down his cutlery, wiping his mouth with a napkin.
"Fine, let's check it out. But if it's nothing, we're coming right back."
"Deal. I'll even let you have my share," Hermione said.
She dragged him toward the door, moving like a gust of wind.
They wove through the bustling corridors, overhearing students gossip about the Care of Magical Creatures incident.
"I don't get it," Hermione said. "Malfoy debunked the rumor. Why are people still—"
"Hermione, Hogwarts is boring for some people. A juicy rumor's too good to drop," Harry replied.
A few sharp comments reached Hermione's ears, tightening her frown. "This rumor's causing trouble. If Malfoy's really going after Hagrid…"
"He won't," Harry said, though he wasn't entirely sure.
Malfoy was a hothead—stubborn but not stupid. Fresh off a fight with Pansy, though, he might do something rash.
As they rounded the corner to Hagrid's hut, raised voices hit them.
Hermione stopped, pulling Harry behind a tree to peek out.
In front of Hagrid's hut, Ginny stood with hands on hips, facing a livid Draco, his black robes flapping in the wind. They were clearly arguing.
"This is bad," Hermione whispered, starting to move, but Harry held her back.
"Wait. Let's see what's happening."
Hagrid's loud voice carried, letting them hear the exchange. He stood between the two, frantically trying to calm them, muttering, "Stop fightin', it's no big deal," but neither Ginny nor Draco listened.
Harry sighed at the tense scene. So much for that second goose leg.
Hermione's grip on his shoulder tightened—she couldn't stand their bickering. Ginny kept mentioning "who the dragon belongs to," while Draco spat words about "Slytherin's treachery." If this kept up, wands would come out.
"Enough!" Hermione burst from behind the tree, clutching her wand. "Hagrid's right here! Do you want to make this harder for him?"
Ginny's retort died in her throat, her anger fading as she lowered her hands from her hips.
Under Harry's stern gaze, Draco flinched, quickly hiding his right arm—the one bandaged from Buckbeak's scratch, likely flashed as "victim" evidence.
Feeling embarrassed, Draco sneered, "What, the Chosen One's here to join the fun? Or do Gryffindors just love ganging up?"
"Who's ganging up?" Ginny shot back. "You're the one who—"
"Ginny," Hermione said, gently pressing her shoulder to stop her. She looked at Draco calmly. "Are you here to apologize or to fight?"
Draco froze, clearly not expecting her bluntness.
"What I'm doing is none of your business, Potter," he snapped.
"It is when it involves our friend," Harry said, stepping in front of Hermione. "If you're here to apologize to Hagrid, show some sincerity instead of picking a fight."