The smoke from the chimney at Hagrid's hut mingled with a gray mist that seemed to have settled permanently on the grounds of Hogwarts since the arrival of the Dementors. Harry, Ron, and Hermione reached the solid wooden door, their hearts still racing from their encounter with the Carrow twins in the hallway.
When they arrived, they knocked on the heavy door three times. A few seconds later, Hagrid opened it. His normally bright and kind eyes were red and swollen, and he was holding a handkerchief the size of a tablecloth to wipe away his tears.
"Come in... come in..." he muttered hoarsely, stepping aside to let them in.
The cabin was dimly lit, illuminated only by the fire in the fireplace. Fang was hiding under the table, whimpering softly, as if he could sense his owner's distress.
"Hagrid, what exactly happened?" Hermione asked softly as they took their seats. "You said the Ministry had already decided."
Hagrid let out a sob that shook the whole place with his enormous body.
"It's Malfoy... Lucius Malfoy," he bellowed, pounding the table with his fist. "He threatened the members of the Committee... He said my class was a danger, that I was irresponsible... And they believed him! They've sentenced Buckbeak... they want to execute him at sunset in two weeks."
Harry felt a wave of fury wash over him.
"They can't do that!" he exclaimed. "Buckbeak only defended himself because Malfoy provoked him. We'll testify if necessary."
Hagrid shook his head, blowing his nose loudly.
"It's no use, Harry. The sentence is signed. Fudge doesn't want any more trouble, much less antagonizing the purebloods... he says it's a matter of 'public safety.'"
Ron, who had been staring into the fire with a frown, opened his eyes wide.
"Wait... maybe there is another option. If Lucius Malfoy is using his influence... we need someone with the same or more influence than him."
Hagrid and Harry looked at him. Hermione seemed to understand where he was going.
"Aurelian?" she asked.
"Yes, Aurelian Gaunt," Ron insisted, leaning forward. "He's a Lord, right? He has a seat on the Wizengamot, he's filthy rich, and... well, even Malfoy seems to respect him. If he talked to Fudge, if he told him that the hippogriff is safe... Fudge would have to listen to him. I read that he thinks very highly of him."
Hermione nodded slowly, considering the idea.
"It's true that he has political power... his Patronus saved many on the train. Maybe..."
"NO!"
Hagrid's cry was so sudden and loud that Fang jumped under the table. The half-giant stood up, his face no longer showing sadness, but a deep, ancient resentment.
"Hagrid, what's wrong?" Harry began, surprised.
"I don't want that boy's help," Hagrid growled, trembling slightly. "I don't want him anywhere near me or Buckbeak."
"But Hagrid," Ron tried to reason, "he's our best chance. He gets along well with my brothers, and I don't think he's a bad person..."
"You don't understand!" Hagrid cut them off, breathing heavily. He turned toward the window, looking out at the castle. "You see a talented boy, a great Lord... but I see something else."
He turned back to them, his eyes filled with a shadow from the past.
"I see him walking the halls... the way he talks, so polite, so charming... how he manipulates the teachers and students into adoring him." Hagrid lowered his voice to a fearful whisper. "He reminds me of him... he Tom."
An icy silence filled the hut.
"Tom Riddle?" Harry asked quietly. He vaguely remembered the name from another conversation he had had with Hagrid.
"They have the same eyes," Hagrid said, shuddering. "The color... the look... Everything is the same. Cold. Calculating. Tom was also the favorite, the perfect boy, the one everyone thought would go far... Aurelian Gaunt carries that same darkness inside him. I felt it from the day he set foot in the castle." He turned his gaze back to the three boys. "I won't ask the devil for help to save an innocent. I'd rather Buckbeak die with dignity than owe a favor to someone who looks so much like the monster who ruined my life."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged worried glances. They knew that Hagrid had been expelled because of a certain Tom Riddle and that the trauma was still alive.
"It's okay, Hagrid," Harry said softly. "We'll figure something out. We'll find another way."
Meanwhile, in the Great Hall, lunchtime passed with the usual murmur.
At the Slytherin table, Aurelian ate calmly, mentally reviewing his plans for the afternoon. However, he noticed that the atmosphere around him was charged with a certain static.
Next to him, Hestia and Flora were not eating. Both had their cutlery clenched so tightly in their hands that their knuckles had turned white, their gazes fixed like lasers on the Gryffindor table.
Specifically, on two identical redheads.
Aurelian followed their gaze and saw Fred and George Weasley laughing as they charmed some potatoes to tap dance on Lee Jordan's plate.
"If you keep staring at them like that, you're going to make their heads explode," Aurelian said amusedly, taking a sip of his juice.
"They dared to mock us," whispered Hestia, her dark eyes shining with resentment. "In front of everyone."
"They dared to say we weren't the only ones for you," added Flora, her tone dangerously soft. "That Lovegood..."
Aurelian sighed, placing his glass on the table.
"They're pranksters, girls. That's what they do. If you react violently, you're just proving them right and giving them more material for their jokes," he smiled at them.
"We could put a spell on their food," suggested Hestia, without taking her eyes off the twins. "Something subtle. Make them get boils on their tongues."
"Or make their hair fall out," Flora proposed, tilting her head. "I'd like to see them without that ridiculous hair."
Aurelian reached out and took their hands on the table, intertwining his fingers with theirs, managing to break their murderous trance.
"You won't do any of that. Just ignore them. Indifference hurts a prankster's ego more than anything else," he gave them another small smile. "You know what they said is a lie. They're just empty words."
The twins looked at him, their expressions softening instantly under his touch.
"We just... don't like them talking like that about what's ours," Flora murmured, relaxing her shoulders.
"We know, Love," said Hestia, returning his smile, now calmer. "But if they say anything else about that Lovegood girl..."
Before she could finish her threat, a shadow fell over their place at the table.
Draco Malfoy had just arrived. Unlike his usual entrance into the dining hall, loud and attention-seeking, he approached directly where Aurelian was sitting. His posture was different from when he was with Crabbe and Goyle. In front of Aurelian, Draco was respectful, almost seeking approval... which he believed he had lost in his last incident last year.
"Aurelian," Draco greeted him with a nod.
"Malfoy," Aurelian replied cordially, "Do you need something?"
"It'll only take a moment," said Draco, unable to hide a satisfied smile that stretched his lips. "I wanted to tell you the news. My father just wrote to me. The Committee has made a decision on the hippogriff matter."
Hestia and Flora rolled their eyes discreetly, returning to their food, clearly uninterested in magical beasts.
"Well?" asked Aurelian, who already knew the answer.
Draco stood up straight, puffing out his chest proudly.
"It was a death sentence. They'll execute him at sunset in two weeks."
The blond closed his eyes, waiting for a reaction, perhaps congratulations on his family's political power.
Aurelian looked at him indifferently, which made Draco nervous. There was no surprise, no joy, no condemnation. Only calculation.
"Your father moved quickly," Aurelian commented neutrally. "Achieving an execution so soon requires pressing the right buttons in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures... or with the minister."
"Exactly." The smile on Draco's face faltered for a moment before brightening at the implicit acknowledgment of the Malfoy influence. "It's a lesson. No one insults a Malfoy and gets away with it, much less an incompetent professor and his pet. I thought you'd like to know, since... well, you value order."
Aurelian nodded slightly.
"Order is important, Draco. Thanks for the information," he said, taking another sip of his juice and waving him off.
Draco seemed satisfied with that.
"Well, I have to go. Pansy saved me a seat... see you in the Common Room, Aurelian." He waved goodbye to the twins, who barely responded with a nod, and walked away triumphantly toward his friends.
When he left, Flora let out a low, cruel chuckle.
"Malfoy feels like he's winning a war all by himself, it's very funny."
"Leave him alone," said Aurelian, returning to cutting the meat on his plate. "For him, this is power. He believes that killing an animal proves the strength of his surname."
"And isn't that the case?" asked Hestia, curious.
Aurelian shook his head gently, his gaze lost for a moment in the void, thinking about the real power games of this world.
"No. That's just whimsy. True power doesn't need to shout or boast about minor executions... true power builds the board where others play without knowing it." He smiled at them.
He glanced sideways at the Gryffindor table, where Harry, Ron, and Hermione had just entered with long, worried faces. Hagrid had surely already given them the news.
"The pieces are moving," he whispered to himself, "and time is running out."
Remus Lupin couldn't sleep.
He paced with his hands in the pockets of his worn robe, the moonlight illuminating his scars. His transformation was only a few days away, and his body was already beginning to feel the phantom pain of his bones breaking. But that wasn't what was keeping him awake.
It was the Boggart of one of his students.
He stopped in front of a window, looking out at the Forbidden Forest. He remembered the form Aurelian Gaunt's fear had taken.
It wasn't Voldemort. It wasn't death. It wasn't loneliness. It was a boy... ordinary, without magic, dressed in strange clothes.
"What are you really afraid of, Gaunt?" Lupin whispered into the cold air. "Being normal? Losing your power?"
He had seen many students face the Boggart. Fear of spiders, snakes, failing an exam, Professor McGonagall. Even Harry, with his fear of Dementors—all of them were understandable.
But Aurelian's fear was... existential. It was the fear of someone who knew exactly who he was and was terrified of the idea of ceasing to be that person.
"He's so much like..." Lupin murmured, closing his eyes in pain. "He's very talented... but I sense something darker in him."
A distant howl from the forest broke the silence of the night.
Lupin's eyes flew open. His heart skipped a beat. He knew that howl. It wasn't a real wolf. It wasn't just any dog.
It was a sound he hadn't heard in twelve years, but one he would recognize anywhere.
"Padfoot..." he exhaled, pressing his forehead against the window.
Below, at the edge of the forest, a huge black dog watched the castle with intelligent, hungry eyes. He wasn't looking for food. He was looking for a way in.
The hunt was about to begin.
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