Harry's thoughts drifted to ancient poetry about leadership and loneliness—verses expressing how even the most powerful rulers sought worthy companions, yet found isolation at the heights of power. The sentiment resonated deeply with his experiences across multiple lifetimes.
He was still very young despite everything. After gaining Divine Power, who knew how many more years he could live? He wanted genuine friendship and authentic connection, but where could he make new friends who saw him as an equal rather than a king? Previous relationships had been complicated by power dynamics—whoever he wanted, he took. All were transactional arrangements built on authority rather than mutual respect.
Ordinary kings commanded such presence that none dared meet their eyes directly. Harry, this godlike king, inspired even greater fear and awe. Only by returning to youth had he finally gained a few genuine friends who treated him as a person rather than a throne.
"Don't be polite now," Hagrid said warmly after they'd chatted a bit, gesturing for everyone to sit down comfortably.
The small cabin consisted of only one room. Hams and pheasants hung from exposed ceiling beams, a copper kettle bubbled cheerfully in the brazier, and an enormous bed occupied the corner with patchwork quilts piled high.
"You're actually quite wealthy, Hagrid." Harry looked around with genuine appreciation, his enhanced perception noting details others missed. Many items radiated considerable magical power—exceptional materials, probably Forbidden Forest specialties. Were these school public property or Hagrid's private possessions?
"Huh?" Ron and Hermione both appeared confused. The cabin seemed rather shabby and obviously handmade with amateur carpentry.
Ron mentally noted he rarely encountered dwellings more rundown than his family's Burrow—today he had.
"The craftsmanship isn't the point—it's the materials themselves," Harry explained. "Unicorn hair everywhere—the entire carpet is woven from it, even the dog bed. How many unicorns did you harvest?"
"No, no!" Hagrid protested immediately. "These are all unicorn hairs that fell off naturally, and the herd gave them to me as gifts. I'd never harm unicorns!"
"Then you're definitely wealthy by any reasonable standard."
Ron said enviously, hurriedly settling onto the carpet to fully appreciate the rare opportunity. This kind of luxury wasn't common for Weasleys.
"Right, haven't properly introduced everyone—this is Ron," Harry told Hagrid, who was busy pouring boiling water into an enormous teapot whilst arranging rock cakes onto a chipped plate.
Hagrid disliked formalities as much as Harry, not even lifting his head as he rumbled, "Another Weasley brother, right? Chasing those mischievous twins out of the Forbidden Forest has consumed almost half my life's energy."
"And this is Hermione, also my friend."
Hagrid offered equally simple greetings, then enthusiastically urged them all to eat the rock cakes.
The rock cakes nearly knocked out Hermione and Ron's teeth—they were absolutely rock-hard, living up to their name. Harry managed a few bites without difficulty—tasted decent enough. Seeing Hermione and Ron's obvious struggling, he simply consumed all their portions too.
Barely filled the gaps between his teeth, honestly.
Hagrid gave an approving thumbs up. Worthy of you, Harry.
Then he produced an entire basket of additional rock cakes.
"By the way, Hagrid, do you know much about Professor Snape? Does he have any... special personal preferences or issues?"
Harry tried phrasing things delicately—the truth seemed genuinely uncomfortable to articulate aloud.
Though such arrangements were relatively common in modern Britain, wizards remained considerably more traditional in their attitudes.
"What do you mean exactly?" Hagrid preferred directness over euphemism.
Harry described Snape's classroom behavior—the professor's peculiarly focused treatment specifically toward him, the contradictory mixture of hostility and something else harder to define.
Hagrid assured Harry not to worry excessively, because Snape had hardly ever liked any students throughout his entire teaching career. He wasn't targeting Harry personally—he targeted everyone with equal disdain. Maybe just... maybe Harry's high profile made him an especially tempting target, Hagrid suggested haltingly.
"But he seems to genuinely hate me on some personal level," Harry said carefully, still optimizing his wording to avoid the deeply uncomfortable truth.
"Nonsense!" Hagrid declared firmly. "Why would Snape hate you specifically?"
But Harry noticed Hagrid deliberately avoided his gaze when making that assertion.
Hagrid definitely knows something he's not sharing.
"Has Snape ever had someone he... cared about romantically?"
Harry could only be more explicit—did the man have orientation complications?
"Why are you asking who he's cared about... oh, Harry, you know about Snape and your parents?"
Hagrid seemed genuinely surprised by Harry's apparent awareness.
"???"
"Snape had emotional entanglements with my parents?"
Without waiting for Hagrid's clarification, Harry's mind raced through possibilities. I see. Everything makes sense now.
Harry had heard repeatedly from Hagrid that he looked remarkably like his father, James.
With that preconceived framework, Harry instantly analyzed the situation—back then Snape and his dad must have had an affair.
So my father was apparently bisexual and married my mother whilst simultaneously involved with Snape.
Eventually Father chose Mother, betraying Snape completely.
Finally Snape's love transformed into bitter hatred, the defeated lover cowering in dark corners, nursing wounds, so consumed by rage and despair he'd stopped even using proper shampoo, pessimistic and world-weary, also harboring complex love-hate feelings toward me as James's son...
My old dad in his youth had quite the complicated romantic life... playing so recklessly wild...
Harry didn't fully understand, but felt greatly shocked by this revelation.
So Snape's disturbing gaze directed at him represented substitute attachment literature dynamics, didn't it?
Stop this immediately. This is profoundly twisted obsessive behavior.
Harry decided firmly to maintain maximum distance from Snape going forward. Though his father had apparently wronged the Potions Master terribly, parental debts absolutely couldn't transfer to children.
Even if Snape were female, romantic involvement would be impossible! The age gap alone made it completely inappropriate.
"Let's not mention those uncomfortable things—all previous generations' private matters are better left buried," Hagrid said quickly, clearly eager to change topics. "How's your brother Charlie doing these days?" he asked Ron. "I really enjoy his company—he's got remarkable natural talent with magical creatures."
Harry and Hagrid very tactfully redirected the conversation.
Hagrid obviously didn't want to discuss the previous generation's complicated romantic privacy. Harry wanted to avoid the topic even more desperately.
Whilst Ron enthusiastically told Hagrid about Charlie's dragon research work in Romania, Harry noticed a small newspaper clipping pressed beneath the teapot cozy—a cutting from the Daily Prophet.
"Gringotts Break-in Latest Report
Investigation into the Gringotts serial heist continues.
Widely believed to be the work of unnamed dark wizards.
Possibly a coordinated group operation...
Gringotts goblins emphasized again today that nothing was actually stolen from lower-level high-security vaults. The underground vault the intruders searched had in fact been emptied earlier that same day. Upper-level losses were also within acceptable ranges.
A Gringotts spokesperson stated this afternoon: "Regarding what exactly is stored in high-security vaults, no comment. Best not to interfere in this matter."
Harry remembered Ron mentioning on the Hogwarts Express that someone had attempted to rob Gringotts, though Harry had initially assumed the perpetrator was simply another thief, not thinking much about it.
But reading more carefully today, something seemed peculiar. Why had they stolen nothing... taken it away in advance...
Hagrid had retrieved a mysterious package from Gringotts shortly before term started.
"Hagrid!" Harry said suddenly. "That Gringotts break-in you've been reading about... was that the vault you visited? Was it Hogwarts property? No—it belongs to Dumbledore, doesn't it?"
Someone had actually dared to rob Dumbledore.
For the first time, Harry felt genuinely interested in this thief's activities.
Unsurprisingly, Hagrid proved even less willing to address this question.
He said admiringly, "Harry, you're genuinely as clever as Dumbledore himself. Nothing escapes your notice.
I've said nothing explicit, yet you've deduced everything—about your parents' history, about Dumbledore's secrets...
I was specifically instructed that regarding Dumbledore's confidential matters, I absolutely cannot discuss anything. Please don't press me further on this."
He offered Harry another rock cake, clearly trying to keep Harry's mouth busy and stop him from asking more questions.
Harry didn't pursue the matter further either, successfully preventing Hagrid from blocking Harry's interrogation by discussing Snape and James Potter's broken romantic entanglements. Everyone harmoniously redirected conversation toward dragon-related topics instead.
When the trio finally walked back toward the castle for dinner, their pockets were heavily loaded with rock cakes that Hagrid had enthusiastically forced upon them. Harry firmly refused to think anymore about Snape—originally his greatest concern and source of discomfort.
Though something still felt incomplete in his understanding, and though Hagrid obviously possessed insider knowledge he couldn't share, Harry decided not to press further.
Stop here. Let it rest.
Since his parents had apparently wronged Snape so profoundly, Harry resolved not to hold the man's disturbing behavior against him too harshly. He'd simply maintain appropriate distance and avoid unnecessary interaction whenever possible.
The situation remained deeply uncomfortable, but at least now Harry understood the twisted psychological foundations underlying Snape's contradictory treatment. Understanding didn't mean acceptance, but it provided context that made the Potions Master's behavior marginally more tolerable.
As they climbed back toward the castle, Harry made a mental note to discuss the Gringotts situation with Dumbledore privately when the opportunity arose. Whatever had been stored in that vault clearly mattered considerably—and whoever had attempted the theft possessed both skill and dangerous ambition.