Unlike the relaxed joy of the Christmas holidays, Easter break came with an avalanche of homework—as if the professors had decided to cram a century's worth of assignments into one week.
As a result, hardly anyone chose to go home. Most students stayed at school.
For second-years, this Easter held another important matter: choosing third-year electives. It was a decision many considered with great care.
Take Hermione, for example. She had been scribbling and circling options on her parchment for over two hours, still unable to decide. Every combination she chose ended up with schedule conflicts.
"You could just pick one less class and solve everything," Ron offered helpfully—only to be completely ignored.
Ron shrugged and went back to his own parchment.
"Divination, Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies…"
"Weird, why isn't Potions on here?" Harry asked. "I just want to drop Potions, even if it means taking five other classes."
"Dream on. We have to keep our core classes," said Hermione, then glanced over. "Harold, what did you pick?"
Harold casually pushed his parchment across the table. He had already marked his choices.
"Divination, Care of Magical Creatures, Ancient Runes," Ron read aloud, eyes widening. "You picked three? Are you sure? Maybe you misunderstood something."
"Professor McGonagall said we only have to pick two," Harry added.
"She said at least two," Harold corrected. "And Divination and Magical Creatures are both light courses. Even if I take both, it won't be too much."
"Light courses…" Ron perked up. "You mean like History of Magic?"
"Not quite that light," Harold said.
Professor Binns, being a ghost, let them write other homework, play chess, or even nap during his lectures—as long as they were quiet. You could do anything in that class.
But Ron didn't care about that anymore. He quickly marked Divination and Magical Creatures. That was his choice.
Harry thought it over, then picked the same ones as Ron.
Hermione, on the other hand, just ticked off every subject.
"You're mad," Ron blurted, raising his voice. "Everything's one thing, but Muggle Studies? No offense, but haven't you studied that your whole life?"
"But from a wizard's point of view, it's fascinating," Hermione said.
"Exactly," Percy added helpfully. "Wizards should develop a comprehensive understanding of the non-magical world—especially if they plan to work closely with Muggles."
Hermione took his words to heart. No one else did.
Harry figured he'd probably end up with a job involving Muggles after graduation too—but he already knew more than enough. After all, his aunt and uncle were textbook Muggles.
So much so that Harry thought if the Muggle Studies textbook had a cover photo, the Dursley family would be perfect for it.
Harold wasn't concerned at all—he didn't need to find a job later anyway.
And while the course claimed to offer a "comprehensive wizarding perspective on Muggles," in reality, the professor didn't know much at all.
Professor Charity Burbage, like Mr. Weasley, was more of a Muggle enthusiast. Some of her understanding was accurate, but the rest was just her own guesswork.
Unlike Mr. Weasley, though, she respected Muggle knowledge and didn't try to turn their inventions into magical devices.
She also pursued actual education—reportedly holding degrees from three top British universities—and had published articles in the Daily Prophet denouncing pure-blood supremacy and championing Muggle-born witches and wizards.
She might not have had the expertise of McGonagall or Flitwick, but she was one of the best-suited for the job.
After all, she genuinely approached the Muggle world from a wizard's point of view—not just introducing gadgets and how they worked.
According to Burbage, that was the job of a tour guide.
Even so, Muggle Studies remained one of the least popular electives—only slightly ahead of Ancient Runes.
Harold had ruled it out first.
…
After lunch, Harold paid Hagrid a visit, hoping to stock up on some good materials while the Easter break still lasted.
Hagrid was reluctant at first—there were too many students on campus during Easter, unlike the deserted castle at Christmas.
But when Harold mentioned they could visit Fluffy, Hagrid finally agreed.
The three-headed dog had recovered quickly—its whiskers had already grown back. Harold didn't hesitate to pluck three more when Hagrid wasn't looking.
Fluffy didn't seem to mind. It was too focused on the hope of another delicious treat and was quite fond of Harold now.
For a creature like Fluffy, losing a few whiskers wasn't a big deal.
"Hagrid, is it just me, or has Fluffy grown again?" Harold asked, craning his neck.
"Perfectly normal," Hagrid replied. "Fluffy's two now—he's in his growth phase. His appetite's gone way up. The centaurs keep complaining that he's stealing their game.
"Acting like the forest belongs to them or something…"
Hagrid didn't much like the centaurs. As far as he was concerned, the Forbidden Forest had belonged to Hogwarts since the school was founded a thousand years ago.
He had no sympathy if Fluffy "stole" a few of their kills.
"Growth phase…" Harold stared at the nearly eighteen-foot-tall beast and clicked his tongue. So… it could grow even more?
Twenty feet? Thirty?
Surely it wouldn't get as big as a dragon—fifty feet would be terrifying.
Harold scratched Fluffy under the chin and sneakily plucked another whisker.
"Does he stay in the forest all the time?"
"Of course."
"And there's enough food around?"
"Plenty," Hagrid said. "I also bring him meat now and then."
"But his den's getting a bit small." Hagrid sighed. "He doesn't like coming back as much anymore. I have to call him every time I bring food."
"He can hear you?"
"Sometimes," said Hagrid. "But if he's too far, I need to use my whistle."
"Whistle?" Harold perked up.
"This one." Hagrid pulled out a crude stone whistle from his pocket. It was clearly handmade.
"When Fluffy was a pup, I used to sing to him to fall asleep. He loved music, so I made this whistle."
"But he doesn't like music anymore. Doesn't fall asleep to it," Hagrid added sadly. "Still, he recognizes the whistle's sound and comes back."
Harold offered an awkward smile but said nothing.
It was probably his fault that Fluffy no longer slept when it heard music. But in a way, that had removed one of the creature's biggest weaknesses.
They lingered a bit longer. After feeding Fluffy all the elk meat they'd brought, Hagrid walked Harold back.
"Hagrid, have you seen any other professors around lately?" Harold asked casually as they walked the wooded path.
"Professor Sprout came by yesterday," said Hagrid. "Needed to gather some plants and collect Mooncalf dung for fertilizer."
"What about the others?" Harold pressed. "Like Professor McGonagall?"
"Nope," Hagrid said without hesitation. "Other than Sprout and Snape, the professors rarely come to the forest. Why—were you looking for her?"
"No reason," Harold said, trying to hide his disappointment.
He'd hoped Hagrid might help him find that potion vial. But it seemed Professor McGonagall already knew how close he was with Hagrid and hadn't left any openings.
(End of Chapter)