"Cough—cough—cough…"
Hagrid had taken such a deep breath that he stirred up a cloud of dust, inhaling half of it in the process. His thunderous coughing echoed around the room.
Wyzett peered at him, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. "Hagrid, did you bring me here to look for something?"
"It's… cough, cough… their… Animagus notes," Hagrid managed at last, though his words came out in ragged bursts.
"Animagus notes?" Wyzett frowned, a sudden memory of the Marauder's Map flashing through his mind.
The Marauder's Map…
Prongs…
Padfoot…
Animagi…
A room that should have held the Animagus notes…
Stringing these clues together, two interesting conclusions emerged.
First: at least two of the Marauder's Map's creators had been Animagi—one of them Harry's father.
Second: the notes themselves had probably been swiped by Fred and George, since this had once been their secret base.
Hagrid furrowed his brow, starting to analyze as well. "Maybe Filch took them! He and that half-Kneazle cat of his know all sorts of secret passages and hidden rooms in the castle."
"If he really got his hands on it, we're in trouble. He's always been at odds with the students… Oh! Wyzett, you could ask one of the professors for help and get the notebook back!"
"If you're too shy to ask a professor, you can come to me! Fang would love to help—I'll keep Filch busy, Fang will deal with Mrs. Norris, and then you can grab the notebook."
"It's about this big…" He spread his fingers, demonstrating with a clumsy gesture.
"The cover's made from Hebridean Black dragon hide, sort of purplish—I remember it perfectly…"
It was obvious how much he wanted to find that notebook, hoping it might help Wyzett.
Wyzett understood. After Hagrid finished his description, he asked, "Hagrid, you mentioned wanting to put a lock on your memories?"
Hagrid nodded. "Yeah! I never mean to… but sometimes things just slip out. If I ever ruined something important, I'd never forgive myself!"
"Like last year, when Harry and his friends came over. They just spotted a newspaper, asked a few questions, and before I knew it, I'd said too much…"
Wyzett listened carefully. "If you want a 'lock' that can stop memories from slipping out at any moment, I'm afraid I can't do that—at least not yet."
"But if there are old secrets you'd rather not talk about, but still want to keep the memories, I could give it a try…"
"You can really do that?" Hagrid's eyes grew wide, his voice trembling with hope. "There are some memories that wouldn't be good for Harry to hear…"
Wyzett gently prompted, "Not good for Harry?"
"That's right!" Hagrid nodded, emotion welling up. "Everyone wants their dad to be perfect… just like mine!"
"He was a tiny fellow, but he raised me all by himself… Back when I was little and didn't know any better, I'd throw tantrums and put him up on top of the wardrobe."
"Even when I scared him, he'd still comfort me, laughing and grinning… He really was a wonderful dad!"
As he spoke, tears streamed through his thick beard.
Hagrid had always been a man of deep feeling—never one to hide his emotions, especially among friends.
"Cough, cough… I'm rambling now." He fished out a handkerchief the size of a tablecloth and blew his nose with a mighty honk. "Wyzett, what should I do?"
Wyzett explained, "I need to be clear—if you want me to put a lock on your memories, I'll be able to see those memories too."
"You'll see them… I trust you to keep a secret—just don't tell Harry."
"I won't say a word to him."
"Then there's no problem. What do I need to do?"
"I'll need you to give me some keywords. Those will act as 'locks'—they'll seal up the related memories."
"Keywords? Seal?" Hagrid scratched his head, struggling to keep up.
This was the fruit of Wyzett's recent studies—a blend of Obliviate, Occlumency, and a few tricks he'd pieced together.
He had to admit, Lockhart was a strange wizard, but Wyzett had picked up a surprising number of memory charm techniques from him.
Unlike most professors, Lockhart loved sharing stories from his past—though he rarely went beyond the storytelling stage.
In class, he now ran dramatic performances, having students reenact scenes from his books.
In private lessons, he'd ramble about his adventures and the odd bits of wisdom he'd picked up.
Whenever Wyzett tried to dig deeper into the magic behind these stories, Lockhart would deftly change the subject—except when it came to memory charms. Then, and only then, would he offer a few extra details.
After a couple of sessions, Wyzett had figured out how to "fish" for information—posing just the right questions to reel in the techniques he needed.
Facing Hagrid's confusion, Wyzett clarified, "It's simple, really. I'll use Obliviate and its counter-charms, so you'll keep the memories but won't be able to talk about them."
"Ah, now I get it! You can really do that?" Hagrid's eyes lit up and he nodded enthusiastically.
"So, I just give you a keyword? Like… 'James before dating Lily'—would that work?"
Wyzett nodded. "That's actually a pretty comprehensive keyword. It should define a clear enough range of memories."
He raised his wand. "Hagrid, I'm going to start. I'll need to press my wand to your temple."
"Oh! Go ahead!" Hagrid plopped down, turning his head and sweeping his hair aside.
His unique constitution immediately posed a problem—the magic had trouble penetrating Hagrid's skin to reach deeper.
Half-giants weren't just big; they had a natural resistance to magic.
Wyzett tensed, but quickly adjusted, channeling Ancient Magic to smooth out the process.
"'James before dating Lily'" gave him a general area to work with, but it wasn't quite specific enough.
He soon realized that James hadn't started dating Lily until seventh year, when their relationship truly began.
When Wyzett opened his eyes, Hagrid immediately asked, "Wyzett, is it done? I didn't feel a thing…"
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