"Lupin!" Hagrid's eyes lit up. "How is he now?"
"He's living at Number 11 Grimmauld Place. You can go see him when you have time." As if remembering something, Anton rummaged through his satchel and pulled out a business card to hand to him.
The small business card looked like a postage stamp in Hagrid's enormous fingers, which was quite comical.
"Lupin-Ilsa Information Consulting Company?" Hagrid blinked, looking bewildered. "A strange name."
He carefully placed the business card into the inner pocket of his overcoat and patted Anton's shoulder happily. "When you sold that brain to Professor Snape, I thought you were some kind of evil dark wizard. But since you're living with Lupin, I suppose you're a good person."
"Uncle Lupin is indeed a good person."
Hagrid was clearly pleased with Anton's words. "You don't have classes on Friday afternoon. If you'd like, you can come to my hut for a visit. It's right next to the Forbidden Forest."
After saying this, he eagerly looked at the little bird on the shelf on the wall. "Oh, although it looks a bit ugly now, this is a sub-dragon species."
Ugly?
Er, alright, Hagrid's sense of aesthetics has always been a bit different from that of humans.
"This is the newest hybrid bred by the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary. It's said to be a cross between a Hungarian Horntail and a Graphorn. It miraculously exhibited atavism, growing fluffy feathers."
"A Hungarian Horntail and a Graphorn?" Anton had a ton of questions.
The mixed-blood lineage in the wizarding world was already outrageous enough, but different species could also be crossbred? Oh, he finally remembered. Hagrid had miraculously bred Blast-Ended Skrewts from a Manticore, a 5X dangerous magical creature, and 60 Fire Crabs.
What a terrifying level 5X was. Dumbledore's phoenix was only a 4X.
Similar crossbreeds included a Griffin and a regular horse, which could produce a 3X dangerous Hippogriff.
Hagrid's crossbreeding technique was the most magical ability in the entire Harry Potter story.
"Researching dragons should be left to Dumbledore. You know, he discovered the twelve uses of dragon's blood," Hagrid said, bending over to look at the small animal, then turning his head to speak with great seriousness.
"It's a pity he's too busy now. Not only with school affairs, but he's also the Chairman of the International Confederation of Wizards and the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot."
"Otherwise, this kind of research would never have fallen to Snape."
There's a saying that if you speak ill of someone behind their back, there's a high chance that when you turn around, you'll see that person staring at you.
Hagrid noticed something was off from Anton's strange expression and stiffly, slowly turned his body. "Oh, I mean, Professor Snape, of course, you are a very powerful Potions Master, of course, of course, it's also... for the Dragon Sanctuary to ask for your help with research..."
Snape looked at Hagrid as if he were looking at a dead man, successfully making him swallow the rest of his words.
His gaze shifted to Anton. "Why are you still here?"
The little wizard blinked innocently. "I saw you leave in a hurry and thought you were going for a pee, so you'd be right back."
Hagrid let out a snort of laughter, but when he saw Snape's sharp expression, he quickly straightened his face.
"Is that so?" Snape slowly approached, turning the little wizard by the shoulders to face the fat bird.
"In that case, stay and help me with something."
"Slaughter it, collect its blood. This one should have a pint of blood. Don't spill a single drop for me, or you know what will happen."
"Professor Snape!" Hagrid cried out in alarm. "How could you make a student do such a cruel thing!"
He turned his head to look lovingly at the fat bird. "Why kill it!"
Anton nodded repeatedly. He was a member of the appearance appreciation society; if this thing were truly ugly, he definitely wouldn't find it cruel.
Snape sneered and patted Anton's shoulder. "This student has always wanted to learn Potions from me. Now the opportunity has come. Collecting blood from ingredients is a delicate art, by no means as simple as just making a cut."
"So, Anton, do you want to learn?"
There's such a good thing?
Anton's eyes lit up, and he nodded eagerly. "I'd be happy to."
Hagrid couldn't watch any longer. He puffed out his chest and looked at Snape with righteous indignation. "First-year students are still too young. You can't treat them like this. Bloodletting will cause psychological trauma to a young wizard. You're simply a demon."
"A demon?" Snape sneered. "Compared to bloodletting, I find forcing two different species to mate more disgusting."
His hollow eyes met Hagrid's disbelieving face, and he continued his soul-crushing taunt in a drawn-out tone, "This is clearly someone who has been influenced by their own origins, to the point of having a twisted personality."
"Snape!" Snape's harsh words had clearly hurt Hagrid deeply. He roared and lunged, throwing a punch straight at Snape's head.
A fist the size of a washbasin, oh, no, have you ever seen a fist the size of a tire?
Anton finally got to witness it. A fist larger than Snape's head arrived full of resentment. The scene was absolutely fiery.
In the end, Snape's private lesson on bleeding the ingredient didn't happen.
Anton watched a spectacular wizard dueling class with great relish.
At first, it was turn-based. Snape did have some ability in wandless magic, but the power of wandless magic was too limited, and Hagrid's giant blood gave him high natural magic resistance.
Snape's originally tall frame, when contrasted with Hagrid, looked like a scrawny little chick.
Pinned under him, he was hammered with punch after punch.
"You despicable man, how dare you call me a half-breed!" Hagrid was beside himself with rage. He had always been very sensitive, worried that someone would bring up his origins. Oh, look, that's giant blood.
Hagrid disliked Snape, especially from the days of fighting Voldemort. Heaven knows how he tolerated this number one Death Eater of Voldemort's in the same school now.
"I think you're the half-breed!"
Oh!
A certain Half-Blood Prince was also struck to the heart. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, a series of spells hit the thick-skinned giant, but they were clearly so feeble.
Unless he used lethal force, the only effective harm Snape could do to Hagrid was to shave his head or beard.
In the very end, the scene was Snape being ground against the floor by Hagrid.
Grinding, grinding.
To avoid getting on Snape's bad side in the future, Anton, this Slytherin student, very loyally tugged at Hagrid's huge coat.
Although it was completely useless.
But at least it was a token of his sentiment.
"Stop fighting!"
"Stop fighting!"
"You'll kill someone like this!"
Unfortunately, the little wizard was too weak, too helpless.
Anton's tearful shouts not only didn't help at all, but they also attracted a large crowd of students to watch from the doorway.
Until other professors arrived later.
No expression could be seen behind Dumbledore's half-moon spectacles.
McGonagall looked at the two with a stern face. "Unbelievable, Snape, and you, Hagrid. You're actually fighting in front of students, just like little children!"