Hagrid looked at Harry as though he had heard something outrageous.
"Find the poachers? Oh, Harry, that's not something a first-year student ought to be doing."
His enormous, shaggy head shook, and his thick beard swayed with it. Only then did Harry notice small scorch marks among the bristles.
"It was just a suggestion, Hagrid," Harry replied calmly. "But… what happened to your beard?"
"Oh, that? It's nothing," Hagrid said, waving a hand, though he looked faintly embarrassed. "Norbert singed it by accident."
"Norbert?" Harry raised his eyebrows. "Who's Norbert?"
Hagrid opened his mouth to answer and, for a moment, forgot to be cautious.
"He's my… my Norwegian Ridgeback…"
He stopped abruptly and clapped a hand over his mouth — too late.
Harry knew Hagrid well enough to recognize the signs. "Norwegian" and "burn marks" were more than enough clues.
"You mean a dragon? A Norwegian Ridgeback?"
Hagrid sighed in defeat when he met Harry's steady gaze.
"Yeah… a Norwegian Ridgeback. Thinks I'm his mother. Sweet little thing… very affectionate."
Harry tried — and failed — to reconcile the words "sweet" and "dragon."
"You bought an egg?" he asked carefully. "That's illegal. And incredibly expensive."
"Didn't buy it," Hagrid said quickly, sniffing. "Won it. Was playing cards in Hogsmeade with a stranger. Reckon he just wanted rid of it."
Harry frowned. Dragon eggs were strictly regulated by the Ministry of Magic; no one simply "wanted rid" of one without reason.
"Hagrid… that sounds suspicious."
"Maybe," Hagrid admitted with a shrug, his crossbow nearly brushing the ground. "But it's done now."
Harry chose not to press further. Hagrid was reckless at times, but never malicious.
"Come on," Harry said, stepping toward the trees.
The Forbidden Forest loomed before them, dark and impenetrable. Most students would have trembled at the sight. Hagrid, however, glanced curiously at the back of Harry's head.
The boy seemed… almost eager.
"We're not here for a stroll," Hagrid warned sternly. "You're serving detention."
"I know, Hagrid," Harry replied with a small smile.
At night, the Forbidden Forest fell into a deep hush, broken only by rustling leaves and the distant murmur of a stream. The air smelled of damp earth and moss.
"Hagrid," Harry began, breaking the silence, "there are many magical creatures here, aren't there? You must know them better than anyone."
"Oh, I do," Hagrid said proudly. "Most of 'em are misunderstood, that's all. Wonderful creatures. If it weren't so late, I'd introduce you to my old friend, Aragog."
"Aragog?"
"An Acromantula," Hagrid said wistfully. "Raised him from a hatchling, back when I was still at school."
Before he could continue, Hagrid suddenly stiffened.
He pulled Harry behind a tree with surprising speed.
Harry had sensed it too — something approaching. His hand went to his wand, ready.
Hagrid lifted his crossbow and fitted an arrow.
"Who's there?" he roared. "Show yourself!"
The bushes ahead trembled.
Then a deep, calm voice answered, "It is I, Hagrid. Ronan."
Hagrid relaxed slightly but only lowered his weapon once the figure stepped into the lantern light.
A centaur emerged, his chestnut coat gleaming softly. His muscular human torso rose proudly above the powerful equine body, and his long hair fell around his shoulders.
"Ah, it's you, Ronan," Hagrid said in relief.
"The night is not peaceful," the centaur replied mournfully. "It is ill fortune to aim weapons at old friends."
"Can't be too careful," Hagrid said. "There's something evil in the forest. A unicorn's been attacked."
He gestured toward Harry.
"This is Harry Potter."
Ronan studied Harry with a penetrating gaze.
"Good evening," he said with a slight inclination of his head.
Then his eyes turned upward to the sky, where cold stars shimmered between the treetops.
His expression grew solemn.
"Mars is burning bright tonight," he murmured.
/------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------/
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