Chapter 311: Hagrid's Gratitude
Twelve dragons. The number echoed through Sean's mind like thunder rolling across distant mountains.
If the organisers merely wanted variety in their selection, such overwhelming numbers would be excessive. The Triwizard Tournament he now faced bore little resemblance to the competition from his memories. Yet considering this world's heightened magical sophistication compared to the relatively tame version he remembered, such escalated challenges seemed inevitable.
"Sean, where are you?"
Harry's urgent whisper cut through the night air, barely audible above the restless stirring of the caged beasts. Sean glanced around, confirming no handlers or officials observed his position, then dispelled the Disillusionment Charm with a subtle wand movement.
"Harry, I'm here."
Following the sound, Harry materialised from the shadows. With practised efficiency, he lifted his Invisibility Cloak and drew Sean beneath its protective embrace. The familiar scent of worn fabric and Harry's nervous perspiration filled the confined space.
"Sean, did you see those things?"
"I saw them."
Harry's voice caught slightly as he processed what lay before them. "Those cages..." He paused, lips pressing together as he fought to suppress the terror threatening to overwhelm his composure. "What's actually inside those cages, Sean?"
"Dragons. All of them."
"Twelve..." Harry immediately clamped his hand over his mouth, muffling his own shocked exclamation before continuing in barely a whisper. "Dragons? They're all dragons?"
Sean nodded grimly. "That's correct. Twelve dragons."
"The Triwizard Tournament is making you face dragons." Harry's face contorted with horrified disbelief. "This is absolutely insane, Sean. We need to find Professor Dumbledore immediately. He could stop this madness. Fighting dragons... it's suicide."
"Harry, don't worry." Sean's voice carried steady confidence despite the circumstances. "I already have strategies to handle this situation. Besides, what's done is done and cannot be changed now. Thank you for your concern."
Colour rose in Harry's cheeks as embarrassment tinged his features. "I haven't really done much to help. Oh right, Hagrid's waiting for us. We should go to him now."
"Agreed. I truly owe Hagrid my gratitude this time."
Harry's expression brightened at Sean's acknowledgement. "Hagrid can be incredibly helpful when it matters, can't he? He must feel grateful to you for preventing that disaster with Buckbeak and Malfoy during class. You stopped something irreparable from happening.
After that incident, Fred and George..." Harry paused to clarify, "They're Ron's brothers. They said if Buckbeak had actually injured Malfoy, both Buckbeak and Hagrid would have faced terrible retaliation. You prevented all of that."
"I see. Then I really should thank Hagrid properly."
So that's the reason behind his assistance, Sean mused internally.
"Harry, I've heard recently that Hagrid and Beauxbatons' Madame Maxime have grown quite close?"
"It started that way, but then they had some kind of argument about half-giant heritage or something similar. Now they're completely ignoring each other."
"That's unfortunate. But they're both adults. Surely they'll reconcile soon."
"Hopefully. Actually, this is just my personal opinion, but I think Hagrid and Madame Maxime are quite well-matched."
"I never realised you were such a gossip, Harry. I'm definitely telling Hagrid about this observation."
"Wait, wasn't it you who asked about them first?" Harry's voice pitched higher with shock.
"True, but I didn't ask for romantic commentary."
"Sean, if you keep this up, you'll lose me as a friend."
"It won't happen again."
'We'll see about that,' Sean thought with hidden amusement.
Harry guided Sean through the darkness toward Hagrid's hut, its warm windows glowing like beacon fires against the night. A gentle knock brought an immediate response as the door swung wide.
Hagrid's massive form filled the doorway, his beetle-black eyes scanning the surroundings before quickly ushering both invisible visitors inside. The door closed with a soft thud, muffling the distant sounds of dragon handlers and magical creatures.
"Harry, Sean, you're much later than I expected."
Harry pulled off the Invisibility Cloak, revealing both their forms in the hut's cosy interior. The familiar scents of woodsmoke, herbs, and Hagrid's perpetual tea brewing created an atmosphere of rustic comfort.
"Hagrid, we were examining those twelve dragons!" Harry's voice carried traces of residual shock. "The champions have to face twelve dragons. This is completely insane!"
"Oh, Harry, the Triwizard Tournament represents the highest competition between Europe's three greatest magical schools." Hagrid's tone carried patient explanation as he busied himself with hospitality. "Of course it requires substantial difficulty. I mean, this level of challenge is actually quite normal.
Besides, dragons aren't truly impossible to handle, are they?"
Hagrid poured steaming water into iron cups for Sean and Harry, then produced palm-sized cookies that filled the air with the warm scent of molasses and cinnamon. He placed these offerings before his guests with careful attention.
"Actually, dealing with dragons isn't overly troublesome. You simply need a well-placed Conjunctivitis Curse. Although I personally dislike harming dragons in any way, but..." He paused, his expression growing serious. "You must prioritise your own safety above all else. And for you, Sean, the Conjunctivitis Curse shouldn't prove too difficult, should it?"
"Thank you, Hagrid."
The gamekeeper's weather-beaten face flushed with embarrassment at Sean's gratitude. He waved his massive hands dismissively. "You helped me before, Sean. This assistance is simply what I should provide in return."
"Help is help, Hagrid. There's no 'should' or 'shouldn't' involved." Sean lifted the cookie Hagrid had offered, inhaling its pleasant aroma before taking a small bite. The texture proved surprisingly agreeable, with just the right balance of sweetness and spice. "I'll take this with me. If there's nothing else urgent, I need to return and prepare for this competition."
"Oh, of course, of course. Go ahead with your preparations."
"Harry, could you escort me back using your Invisibility Cloak?"
"Certainly. Let's go. Goodbye, Hagrid."
"Goodbye, Harry. Goodbye, Sean."
Harry lifted the silvery cloak, enveloping both of them in its concealing embrace before they disappeared from Hagrid's sight. The hut's door opened and closed by itself, leaving only the whisper of night wind as evidence of their departure.
Beneath the cloak's protection, Sean took another bite of Hagrid's surprisingly palatable cookie. "Hagrid's baking is actually quite good."
"Really?" Harry's surprise was evident in his voice. "I've never tried his cookies before. I have sampled Hagrid's favourite rock cakes, though. Nearly broke my teeth, but Hagrid absolutely loves those things."
"By the way, Harry, why didn't I see Fang tonight?"
"Recently Fang seems to be in heat. Hagrid mentioned he ran off into the Forbidden Forest and probably needs time before returning."
"That makes perfect sense. Fang's grown into quite a large dog now. It's about time for such behaviour."
They traversed the castle grounds in companionable silence, their footsteps muffled by the magical cloak. Upon reaching Hogwarts' ancient walls, Harry prepared to ascend toward Gryffindor Tower.
"I promised Ron a game of wizard chess," Harry explained. "He's been practising new strategies all week."
Sean stood contemplatively for a moment, weighing his options before making a decisive choice. Rather than returning to the dungeons, he turned toward the castle's upper reaches.
The eighth floor beckoned, and with it, answers he desperately needed.
"Lemon drops."
The password granted immediate access. Sean ascended the spiral staircase, its stone steps worn smooth by centuries of footsteps, and pushed open the heavy oak door to Dumbledore's office. The circular chamber stood empty, its magical instruments humming quietly in the absence of their master.
Portraits of former headmasters gazed down from gilded frames, their painted eyes following Sean's movement with curious interest.
"Please help me locate Professor Dumbledore," Sean addressed them directly. "I have urgent matters requiring his immediate attention."
The painted figures exchanged meaningful glances before confirming his serious demeanour. Three portraits promptly abandoned their frames, leaving behind empty gold rectangles as they embarked on their search.
Within minutes, emerald flames suddenly blazed to life within the office fireplace. Dumbledore stepped gracefully from the magical fire, brushing soot from his midnight-blue robes while fixing Sean with his penetrating blue gaze.
"Sean, I understand you have urgent matters requiring discussion?"
"That's correct, Professor. This situation requires your judgement and wisdom."
The weight of impending revelation settled between them like gathering storm clouds, promising answers that might reshape everything Sean thought he understood about the challenges ahead.