The atmosphere inside Hagrid's hut was unusually subdued that afternoon. The usual warmth of the crackling fire and the comforting clutter of the space did little to lift the heavy mood hanging over the group.
Hermione was the first to break the silence. Turning toward Ryze, she spoke thoughtfully, "So, Ryze, what do you make of it? Headmaster Dumbledore's reply… it clearly expresses his trust in Professor Snape. But what exactly is Snape's duty?"
Ron, who had been sitting off to the side with an increasingly impatient expression, threw up his hands. "We've been going in circles about this for nearly an hour," he complained. "And we still don't have a clue. It can't possibly be that Snape's 'duty' is to protect the Philosopher's Stone—and Harry too, for that matter. That just sounds ridiculous."
Ryze glanced at Ron, his expression calm but thoughtful.
Ron's tone had carried a note of mockery, clearly aimed at Snape. Yet ironically, what he had said wasn't entirely wrong. Snape had indeed remained at Hogwarts for a reason—one that involved protecting Harry, even if Harry himself could hardly believe it.
Clearing his throat softly, Ryze began to lay out his thoughts, addressing the young wizards gathered around him.
"In Dumbledore's letter," he said, "he expresses trust in two individuals. One is his trust in Snape—something he explicitly says cannot be put into words. The other is his trust in Hagrid, whom he says he would trust with his life and property."
He paused briefly, letting that distinction sink in.
"These two types of trust," Ryze continued, "are not quite the same."
He turned his gaze toward Hagrid. "The Headmaster's trust in Hagrid is rooted in Hagrid's character. No matter what happens, Dumbledore firmly believes that Hagrid would never betray him. It's a trust based on who Hagrid is as a person."
Hagrid, who had been sitting quietly until now, suddenly began to tremble. His massive frame shook as he raised a handkerchief—large enough to pass for a tablecloth—and pressed it to his face.
"I've failed him," Hagrid choked out, his voice thick with emotion. "I've failed Dumbledore's trust. First with Fluffy, and then with the business about Nicolas Flamel… I let things slip. It's my fault."
"There, there, Hagrid," Ryze said gently. "Dumbledore's letter makes it clear—he doesn't blame you. Not at all. And as for the Philosopher's Stone… we won't speak of it again."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione quickly nodded in agreement, each offering their reassurance that they would not spread the secret any further.
After a moment, Ryze suggested that Hagrid step outside for some air and compose himself. Hagrid hesitated, then nodded and shuffled away, leaving the others behind.
Taking over the barbecue, Ryze began turning the meat over the grill with practiced ease. The faint sizzling sound filled the silence as he resumed speaking.
"As for Dumbledore's trust in Professor Snape," he said, "I believe it's based on something different—perhaps a contract, an obligation, or a shared goal. In other words, Snape is fulfilling a duty for certain reasons. As long as that duty remains incomplete, Dumbledore believes Snape will not betray him."
He paused, then added, "We just don't know what that duty is yet. But it could very well involve guarding the Philosopher's Stone."
Hermione frowned slightly, considering this. "That would explain why he went to the room on the fourth floor," she admitted slowly.
"Exactly," Ryze said, nodding. "At the time, the entire castle was in chaos. Yet Snape went straight to that room—and he was in a hurry. If he wasn't trying to steal the Stone, then perhaps he was going there to ensure its safety."
Hermione rubbed her temples, deep in thought. "Both possibilities make sense," she said. "But it's still hard to imagine Snape going to so much trouble just to protect something."
Ryze gave a small shrug. "I'm only offering a theory. You're free to maintain your suspicions."
As he spoke, he plated portions of the barbecue and handed them out—first to Harry, then to Ron, and finally to Hermione.
Harry accepted the food, but his attention was clearly elsewhere. He leaned forward slightly, his expression uncertain.
"Ryze," he said, "could you use your Divination to find out something for me?"
Ryze looked at him expectantly.
"Was Snape really trying to jinx my broom that day?" Harry asked hesitantly. "If Dumbledore trusts him this much… if he's really carrying out some duty… then why did the jinx stop the moment Hermione set his cloak on fire?"
Ryze didn't answer immediately. Instead, he focused on finishing his current task at the grill before turning to face Harry fully.
"Harry," he began calmly, "Divination doesn't work like that. I can't simply learn whatever I want, whenever I want."
He continued, "My abilities in Divination are still quite limited. I've only just begun studying it seriously. When it comes to ordinary objects, I can make reasonably accurate inferences. But when dealing with people—or anything infused with magic—the results become far less reliable."
He paused, choosing his words carefully.
"Take the day of your Quidditch match," he said. "Beforehand, I sensed that you would encounter trouble that afternoon. I even had a vague impression that you might be injured—but not fatally. Beyond that, I couldn't determine the source of the danger."
Harry listened intently.
"There's another problem," Ryze added. "When your ability is insufficient, the more you try to force an answer, the more likely you are to be misled. Fate itself can become… deceptive. It may show you images or impressions that are prone to misunderstanding."
As he spoke, he handed out the remaining plates of food.
"Something similar happened when I tried to divine information about my own origins," he continued. "I couldn't see anything about my parents. Instead, I saw a series of strange and confusing scenes—images that didn't seem to match what I know to be true."
Harry's curiosity immediately sharpened. "What did you see?" he asked.
Ryze met his gaze.
"I saw Sirius Black."
The name landed like a shockwave.
Harry froze. Ron's grip on his plate tightened, and even his breathing seemed to stop for a moment. Only Hermione looked puzzled, lacking the full context of Sirius Black's history.
"In all the records," Ryze went on, "and in every account I've read, Sirius Black was captured laughing like a madman—standing among the ruins of that street as though he had lost his mind entirely."
He shook his head slightly.
"But what I saw was completely different. In my vision, he was crouched on the ground, watching as Hagrid carried you away… and he was crying."
"Crying?!" Hagrid's voice suddenly thundered from the doorway. He had returned without anyone noticing, his face flushed with anger.
"That traitor?" Hagrid roared. "That vile, despicable man? Those were crocodile tears if I've ever seen them! I saw him myself—pale as death, shaking all over. And I was foolish enough to try and comfort him!"
Hagrid's fists clenched as he continued, his voice trembling with rage. "If Dumbledore hadn't ordered me to take Harry away when he did—if I'd been even a few minutes later—who knows what that monster would have done? He might've killed Harry right there!"
"I understand, Hagrid," Ryze said calmly. "I'm not saying he's innocent. I'm only describing what I saw."
Hagrid muttered something under his breath but said no more, though his anger remained evident.
Turning back to Harry and the others, Ryze continued, "This is exactly the point I'm trying to make. Divination can offer answers—but it can also mislead you."
He leaned slightly forward.
"Many of the famous prophecies recorded throughout history are like this. They don't provide clear answers. Instead, they introduce uncertainty—points of doubt. Different people interpret them differently, and those interpretations can lead to completely different conclusions."
Hermione nodded slowly, clearly following his reasoning.
Harry, however, looked more troubled than ever. "If Divination can't be trusted," he said, "then what can we rely on?"
Ryze didn't hesitate.
"Logic," he replied simply.
He gestured lightly with his hand.
"Think about it, Harry. If Snape truly wanted to harm you, would he choose such an obvious method? He's a Potions Master and highly skilled in the Dark Arts. There are countless ways he could act without drawing attention to himself—far more subtle and effective than cursing your broom in front of an entire crowd."
Harry fell silent.
"And don't forget," Ryze added, "Dumbledore has already entrusted this matter to Professor McGonagall. If you want answers, why not go directly to her?"
The suggestion hung in the air.
For the first time since the conversation began, Harry seemed to have something solid to hold onto—not a suspicion, not a fear, but a clear and rational next step.
And perhaps, just perhaps, the truth was closer than he thought.
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