Hagrid acted as if he'd just heard an outlandish tale, lowering his head to look at Harry.
"Find the poacher? Oh, Harry, that's not something a first-year like you should be doing."
His shaggy head shook as he spoke, and even his beard twitched.
Harry noticed there were some scorched marks beneath his beard.
"Just an idea, Hagrid." Harry said, then asked concernedly, "Hagrid, what happened to your beard?"
"Oh, nothing." Hagrid waved it off with a cheery grin, his face turning kindly. "Norbert did it, but it's no big deal."
"Norbert? Who's Norbert?" Harry was interested now.
Could it be that Hagrid was keeping another Magical Creature in his hut?
"Norbert's the Norwegian… the Norwegian Tho—"
Hagrid covered his mouth with his hand mid-sentence.
Having known Hagrid for a while, Harry felt he sort of understood his character.
This big friend of his seemed like he'd been born after swallowing Truth Serum—he simply couldn't keep a secret.
Breathes fire, and Norwegian at that—Harry's mind immediately jumped to Fire Dragons.
"Norwegian? It's a Norwegian Thornback Dragon, isn't it?" He looked at Hagrid.
Hagrid nodded awkwardly, and when he met Harry's bright green eyes, he simply admitted, "Yeah, it's a Norwegian Thornback Dragon. It thinks I'm its mum, really cute and clingy, that one."
Cute? Clingy?
Harry tried to connect those words to a Fire Dragon, but, sadly, utterly failed.
"Did you buy it?" he asked, intrigued. "You know, a Dragon Egg costs a lot, right? I remember you said your dream was to raise a dragon?"
"No, didn't buy it." Hagrid rubbed his nose. "Won it. Just last month, at Hogsmeade Village, I was having a drink and playing cards with a stranger—honestly, that guy was probably dying to get rid of it."
"A Dragon Egg like that would fetch loads at Diagon Alley—why would he be so eager to part with it?" Harry eyed Hagrid, feeling something was off.
If this were the only odd thing, fine—but it was just too coincidental, like how Hagrid ended up with the Three-headed Dog Fluffy. It was all suspicious.
"Maybe he…" Hagrid started, then suddenly grew uneasy.
He looked down at Harry. "Wait, Harry, how do you know about Diagon Alley?"
"Heard someone talk about it." Harry chose to be evasive. "I think you should be careful, Hagrid. That guy might have had some ulterior motive."
"Who knows." Hagrid shrugged, nearly poking Axew at his feet with his huge Stone Bow.
Called a bow, but it was really more of a crossbow.
"Let's go, Hagrid," said Harry, showing not a hint of fear, and in fact looking pretty cheerful about it.
The Forbidden Forest—he'd been here plenty. Whether it was with Pabi Swedding, Cassandra, or Villatia, coming back felt like returning home.
Hagrid peered at the back of Harry's head, a big question mark slowly floating up in his mind.
Are all first years this tough nowadays? Facing the pitch-black forest without flinching, even seeming a bit… excited?
"We're not here to play, Harry!"
Hagrid tried to make things more serious. If Harry stayed too relaxed, that would do them no good in the Forbidden Forest—even worse, being too loose could be dangerous.
"You're serving detention, remember!" he reminded again.
"Alright, Hagrid." Harry flashed Hagrid a smile.
The Forbidden Forest at night was eerily quiet—besides leaves rustling in the wind, the only sound was the gentle gurgle of water.
Clearly, there was a stream nearby.
If he remembered right, that stream was home to a critter called the Mud Monster—its tongue could be used to brew Magic Potions.
Walking in silence was a little boring, so Harry figured he might as well chat about something.
"Hagrid, are there many Magical Creatures in the Forbidden Forest? I mean, your hut's right on the forest's edge. You must bump into them all the time, right?"
"Oh, to be honest, I'm friends with all of them." Hagrid beamed. "The Magical Creatures in the Forbidden Forest are all adorable. If only it wasn't so late tonight, I'd definitely take you to meet my old pal, Argo."
"Argo?" Harry thought the name was a tongue-twister and sounded like it might belong to something with eight legs…?
"Yup. Cute little bloke I adopted back when I was in school," Hagrid said wistfully. "He…"
Before he could finish, Hagrid suddenly grew alert.
He yanked Harry back behind a nearby tree in an instant.
Harry had also felt something rushing toward them. He pulled out his Davima Magic Wand at first, but, with Hagrid beside him, he tucked it away and drew his own wand instead.
Hagrid drew a massive Feathered Arrow from the quiver on his shoulder, loaded it onto the Stone Bow, drew it back, and aimed it toward the sound.
"Who's there!" he shouted. "Come out! Quit sneaking around, I've already got you!"
Axew darted around Hagrid's feet, eyes fixed on the direction of the sound, barking furiously.
The bushes shook again, and just as Hagrid was losing his patience, a voice drifted out from the undergrowth.
"It's me, Hagrid. Ronan."
Hagrid relaxed a little, but didn't lower his weapon just yet.
Soon, a figure emerged from the shrubbery—a man… or a horse?
It was a red-haired Centaur. His upper half was human, his lower half that of a horse—matching reddish-brown for both his hair and his horse part.
A tail swished behind him, betraying his less-than-happy mood.
"Oh, it really is you, Ronan." Hagrid finally relaxed, let his weapon drop, and stepped forward to shake hands with the Centaur.
The Centaur hardly looked any happier. Looking a little melancholy, he said, "It's not a good night, Hagrid. Looks like you were just about to shoot me with that bow."
"Can't be too careful, Ronan," Hagrid replied, patting his quiver. "There's a bad fellow creeping around these woods… Oh, right, this here's Harry Potter."
He finally remembered Harry and began introductions. "Harry, this is Ronan—as you can see, he's a Centaur."
Harry didn't find it all that strange—Centaurs weren't exactly news to him.
When he and Vivi came into the Forbidden Forest to care for little animals, some clueless Centaur even mistook them for Poachers.
You can guess what happened. Vivi was always gentle when she was with him, but she clearly had way less patience dealing with Centaurs.
"Good evening," Ronan greeted, still as gloomy as ever, his words to Harry feeling a bit perfunctory.
He gazed up at the night sky, his face deeply solemn.
"Tonight, Mars is… blindingly bright," he said.