Chapter 172: Busy Harry
What every student—especially those who've made mistakes—fears most is being summoned to the headmaster's office.
Although Hagrid had left Hogwarts in his third year, in his heart he had always considered himself Dumbledore's student. Dumbledore was the man he respected most. When Hagrid's wand had been snapped and he'd nearly been expelled, it was Dumbledore who had taken him in and given him a place at Hogwarts.
In many ways, after Hagrid's father died, Dumbledore had been more like a father than a headmaster.
But now… because of his drinking, Hagrid had revealed Fluffy's secret.
And when he finally arrived in the office, he realized Dumbledore already knew.
It's over… Barbie Q, Hagrid thought grimly.
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"Why don't you come in, Rubeus?" Dumbledore's gentle voice carried through the door.
Though calm and warm as always, to Hagrid it sounded like the tolling of a death knell.
"Good evening, sir," Hagrid said timidly as he stepped inside.
"What's wrong, Rubeus?" Dumbledore asked, still mild. "It's dinnertime—why not eat before you come?"
Hagrid wasn't surprised that Dumbledore knew he hadn't eaten. Dumbledore always knew what he ought to know. Hagrid had long since stopped trying to fathom the man's wisdom.
But he had to confess.
"Professor… I have something to tell you," Hagrid said, summoning his courage and walking fully into the office.
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Dumbledore sat behind his desk, which, instead of parchments, was now covered with plates of food. Most striking of all was a dish of mint candies—a combination only Dumbledore could manage.
"Would you like something, Rubeus?" Dumbledore offered, spearing a potato with his fork.
"No… I—" Hagrid began, but at that moment his stomach growled loudly in protest.
He swallowed hard and fixed his eyes on the portraits of past headmasters and headmistresses lining the walls. Every one of them was awake and listening. A fat wizard with a bulbous red nose even slipped a hearing horn from his pocket and held it to his ear.
Dumbledore cleared his throat, and the fat wizard pretended to put the horn down—only to sneak it into his other ear instead.
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"Professor… I leaked Fluffy's secret while I was drinking at the Hog's Head," Hagrid blurted out.
"And… I think Professor Quirrell might be under some sort of curse. He's after the Philosopher's Stone." Hagrid rushed on, confessing everything Harry and Draco had said to him—though he left out the detail about the dragon egg and simply mentioned that he'd been drunk.
"Oh, I have my own arrangements regarding Quirrell. That will be all, Rubeus," Dumbledore said softly, watching Hagrid with those piercing blue eyes.
Hagrid hesitated, then added quickly, "Sir… Harry, Ron, and young Malfoy know about the Stone. They're the ones who made me realize what I'd revealed. Please… keep an eye on them. They might be bold enough to try breaking into the restricted area on the fourth floor."
"I understand, Rubeus," Dumbledore nodded.
"Now, why don't you stay and have dinner?" With a casual wave of his hand, a huge plate of food appeared on the table and a massive chair—perfect for Hagrid—slid into place beside it.
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Meanwhile, after helping Ravenclaw achieve their second victory, Harry had never been so popular. For the first time, the Ravenclaw team felt the Quidditch Cup wasn't just a dream.
Harry's reputation at Hogwarts was soaring. In modern terms, he was like a veteran actor suddenly thrust back into the spotlight.
It meant every day Harry had to navigate not only Hogwarts' shifting staircases but also constant greetings, invitations, and questions from students. Sometimes, despite his best efforts, he still arrived late to class.
And popularity brought envy. The Slytherins, already notorious for dirty tricks on the pitch, now resorted to scheming off it as well—spreading rumors and whispering insults to try to rattle him.
It didn't work. Harry was riding a wave of admiration and felt untouchable.
But the Slytherins hadn't counted on Kate—Ravenclaw's own sharp‑tongued chronicler, nicknamed Rita Skeeter II. Harry might have offended her once, but he was still Ravenclaw's best chance at the Cup, and Kate wouldn't allow anyone from another house to tarnish that.
Within days, the identity of the ringleader spreading rumors about Harry was exposed to the whole school.
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Even Professor Snape was furious this time. He put the offending students into strict solitary detention for an entire semester and deducted twelve points from Slytherin.
According to Draco, that was unusually harsh. Normally Snape would have only deducted a point or two and given them a token punishment. This time, they were forced to handle revolting potion ingredients as part of their detention.
The explanation left Ron wide‑eyed. "No wonder Slytherin's won the House Cup seven years running," he muttered. It wasn't just that Slytherin played well—it was also that Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff rarely cared about House points, while Gryffindor's own strict head of house docked points from her students frequently.
Ron knew this firsthand from his older brothers' stories. Professor McGonagall, unlike Snape, deducted points freely—sometimes fifty at a time—and rarely punished students from other houses herself, preferring to leave that to their heads of house. Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout tended to be more lenient.
But Snape? Snape was something else entirely. What a cunning man, Ron thought.
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The Slytherins didn't stop there—they also tried ambushes outside the pitch. But Harry's spells, his reputation, and Snape's strict punishments deterred most of them.
Even so, Captain Jonny assigned senior Ravenclaws to escort Harry to and from class, just in case.
Roger Davis had also returned to regular training. Now, only the first session of the week was tactical—the other two were grueling scrimmages. Roger had refused the position of acting captain, which only increased the unspoken pressure on Harry. Every time the word "captain" came up, everyone—Roger included—would glance meaningfully at Harry.
All of this kept Harry so busy he hardly thought about the Philosopher's Stone or the dragon egg. As far as he knew, the egg had already been handed over to Dumbledore. He didn't notice that Draco often disappeared alone during dinnertime.
After all, Draco was in Slytherin, and their only shared lessons were in Herbology.
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Then, just as Harry was juggling lessons and Quidditch practice, something unexpected happened.
One morning at breakfast, Hedwig swooped down and dropped a note in front of him. It was from Hagrid.
It contained only four words:
Almost hatching.
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(End of this chapter)
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