Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
A/N I don't own these either, but so does nobody else, namely: There are several allusions to Greek mythology in this text. Have fun finding them!
Hagrid handed the Knuts over to the barman and took his enormous mug with Fire Whiskey (the pubʼs mulled mead was disgusting compared to the one the Three Broomsticks served) in exchange. On this cold winterʼs eve, the Hogʼs Head was uncommonly full. He let his eyes travel over the mostly unknown faces as far as it was possible to see them, wondering who would be a good drinking companion. The barman here wasnʼt as strict as Madam Rosmerta when it came to drunkenness, but it was also harder to find someone willing to sing songs when he was in the mood. Making his decision, he steered to a table close to one of the bay windows. Like everything else in the pub, its glass was so dirty that the snow outside could not be recognised as such. The man sitting there was a complete stranger to Hagrid. He was rather short and bony with a lot of greyish curls and a dark complexion. Unlike most, he was slurping from his foaming, chipped cup without hiding his face.
Hagrid sat down opposite, not minding to ask for permission; this was the usual manner in the Hogʼs Head. The man looked up at him over his cup with his big, bushy eyebrows slightly furrowed.
ʻEveninʼʼ, said Hagrid, raising his mug as a greeting. ʻThe winterʼs long this year, isnʼ it?ʼ
ʻIf you say so,ʼ said the man in a bored tone and with a foreign accent Hagrid didnʼt recognize. He noticed that the man wore a very strange olive-brown necklace, thick and leathery. Not paying Hagrid any other sign of welcome, the man turned to stare out of the window as if he could discern anything in the backyard through the grime encrusted glass.
Hagrid took a deep draught from his mug and felt the warmth of the drink spread through his enormous body. He looked around in the pub, wondering if there might be someone more talkative around. Coming to the conclusion that the other guests didnʼt look any more inviting than the one opposite him, he decided to make conversation despite the strangerʼs taciturnity.
ʻYehʼre not from here, I sʼpose,ʼ he remarked.
ʻIndeed,ʼ the man said slowly in his strange accent. ʻI am not. I have come to visit my little sister, and then I decided to take a look around in the country. Indeed.ʼ
ʻIndeed,ʼ repeated Hagrid, glad to find the man yet in a chatty mood. ʻWhere dʼyeh come from then?ʼ
ʻGreece.ʼ
ʻAh,ʼ said Hagrid, slightly unsure where to place the land on the map but immediately recalling the beautiful report about a Lernaian Hydra he had once read in the paper. The poor beast had been killed by the Ministry of the land though, after it had caused several deaths. Hagrid couldnʼt understand why they had not rather investigated why those people had disturbed the darling creature in the first place. It was not right that it was always the monster that got blamed. He looked suspiciously at the man opposite him, wavering whether he would get a reasonable reaction from him if he mentioned the Hydra.
ʻThaʼs an interestinʼ country, Greece,ʼ he reduced himself to say.
The manʼs eyebrows rose slowly, and, slightly delayed, a thin smile curled his lips. ʻIndeed, you speak a true word, indeed.ʼ
ʻEm,ʼ said Hagrid, wishing to direct the discourse to interesting creatures. ʻYeh have some animals there, havenʼ you?ʼ
ʻIndeed,ʼ said the man, starting to annoy Hagrid with his stretched pronunciation.
ʻI heard abouʼ that Lernaian Hydra lately,ʼ he finally said when he realised that the man wasnʼt going to share any more information.
ʻIndeed,ʼ the man repeated, lapsing into silence again. And then, just as Hagrid wanted to drain his mug and return home, he added, ʻbut that beast was near Larissa, not Argos.ʼ
ʻWhoʼs Larissa?ʼ
ʻIn Thessaly,ʼ said the man gravely and took a sip from his cup.
ʻThessaly?ʼ
ʻAll magic comes from Thessaly,ʼ said the man with a decided nod. ʻBut the Lernaian Edra is native to Argolis. There they are kept under strong security measures.ʼ
ʻBuʼ why was thaʼ one in Thessaly?ʼ
ʻThat is a good question. My guess is, someone stole an egg but later on didnʼt manage the beast and set it free. The Ministry investigated, but without success.ʼ
ʻWhy didnʼ they bring the Hydra to the others?ʼ
ʻDo you have any idea what such a Edra looks like?ʼ
ʻCertainly!ʼ exclaimed Hagrid, feeling slightly piqued by the doubt in his magizoological abilities. ʻTheyʼre reptiles, up ter twenty feet tall. Theyʼre born with two heads, buʼ when they get ripped off, two new heads grow again. Thereʼreʼve been Hydras with more than a hundred heads.ʼ
The man nodded slowly. ʻThat one in Thessaly was still very young, it had only seven heads. They are extraordinary animals, but impossible to tame and highly venomous. They simply cannot be transported without great damage. And the removal of that animal was very urgent, it couldnʼt be kept away from human habitation for very long.ʼ
ʻA shame,ʼ said Hagrid sadly.
ʻItʼs always sad when such epitomes of Magizoology have to be killed,ʼ agreed the man with a further sip from his cup. ʻBut there are also positive signs for the Greek fauna. Diomedan horses have been tamed with great success, and we have succeeded in stabilising the Minotauros population in Crete, not to speak of the Chimaeras on Mykonos that were under such international pressure just because some Welsh imbecile had needed to provoke one.ʼ
ʻYeh speak as if yeh were concerned personally yerself.ʼ
The man smiled thinly. ʻIndeed, I am a member of the Committee for the Preservation of Magical Creatures.ʼ
ʻHow fascinatinʼ,ʼ exclaimed Hagrid, feeling for the first time thoroughly cordial towards the man.
ʻIʼm from Delphi,ʼ the man added.
ʻAh,ʼ said Hagrid, taken aback by this new information he couldnʼt connect with their previous conversation.
ʻWe always had to be protective of our snakes,ʼ said the Greek, noticing Hagridʼs puzzlement.
ʻYehʼve got snakes there?ʼ
ʻNot just snakes!ʼ exclaimed the man, his eyes lightening. ʻThe most beautiful, most intelligent, most magical snakes in the world!ʼ
ʻReally?ʼ asked Hagrid, taken aback by the sudden outburst of passion.
The man glared at him for a second. Then he let out a sharp hiss, and his necklace started to wind itself around his neck, and soon over his shoulder there appeared the slender head of a snake that slowly lowered itself on the table, looking at Hagrid with puzzled golden eyes. Then the snake twisted itself around the manʼs cup, the largest part of it yet remaining around the its ownerʼs neck.
Hagrid was torn between the shock of hearing Parseltongue issuing from the manʼs mouth and fascination with the snake that wore a strange pattern of golden and bronzy scales on its head.
ʻWhaʼ kind of snake is this?ʼ he finally whispered.
ʻA Delphic Aesculapian snake,ʼ the man answered smugly. ʻHe knows the future for about a minute in advance, and he can heal wounds. And he knows Greek.ʼ
ʻIs he venomous?ʼ asked Hagrid, unsure whether he was truly interested. The snake didnʼt look very stunning to him, its head was so small that the fangs could hardly be very long.
ʻOf course not!ʼ said the man indignantly. ʻNo Aesculapian snake is.ʼ
Slightly disappointed Hagrid watched the snake press its head against the cup. The manʼs hand closed around it and restored it around his neck, murmuring something that was not English but certainly wasnʼt Parseltongue either.
ʻYou can talk to it?ʼ Hagrid asked to make certain.
ʻHeʼs very intelligent, He can understand Greek and could learn any human language effortlessly,ʼ said the man with visible pride. ʻAnd luckily I can also understand what he says.ʼ
ʻThaʼs a very rare gift,ʼ said Hagrid, trying to hide his uncomfortableness.
ʻNot that rare,ʼ said the man. ʻThere are many people in Delphi who can. And some near Epidauros and Thebes. In other places itʼs quite seldom though I heard that in Egypt and Libya there are also several.ʼ
ʻI always heard about it as rare and rather...ʼ Hagrid stopped, not wanting to insult.
ʻIt might be rare in Britain,ʼ said the man lazily. ʻNot every country can be as gifted as Greece.ʼ
ʻSo, all yer family can talk to snakes?ʼ asked Hagrid, stupefied.
The man nodded, then he added like an afterthought, ʻMy wife canʼt, but sheʼs from the south of the Peloponnese.ʼ
Hagrid took a large gulp from his mug, again suspecting that he didnʼt get all the information that the man had conveyed.
ʻShe breeds Kerveros dogs,ʼ the Greek added contently. ʻThatʼs very handy as the snakes love to rest on their heads. Iʼve brought a puppy with me; poor thing was rejected by its mother, we had to raise it by hand. Thatʼs why I just couldnʼt leave it alone. Would you like to see the dog?ʼ
Hagrid didnʼt really care about some dog, but he was fond enough of canines to be willing to do the man the favour of showing some enthusiasm. ʻThaʼd be great,ʼ he answered.
The manʼs smile widened, and he got to his feet. Hagrid imitated him, accidentally knocking over the rickety table. Before he could start to apologize to everybody nearby, his companion had repaired mug and cup with a flick of his wand.
The man steered to a side door that led to the little court behind the inn. His hand on the doorknob, he turned to Hagrid. ʻThe innkeeper didnʼt allow me to bring the little thing in,ʼ he hissed. ʻSo I had to leave it in the cold.ʼ With an angry snort the man ripped open the door, and they both stepped outside.
A low growl sounded from the blackness of the left wall. Hagrid stopped, intrigued by the unexpected sound that did not at all fit a little puppy. Then his companion lit his wand and illuminated the creature lying before the wall.
Hagrid could do nothing but stare. His polite interest had all vanished and been replaced by an affection only inferior to his feelings towards the little spider he had once raised in a cupboard. Before him lay a growling dog of about the size of a cow, yet a puppy still. That was easily visible from its bewildered expression, and - that was the most wonderful thing - this expression was there three times. The dog had three heads.
ʻBut... thaʼs a Cerber,ʼ whispered Hagrid, using the name he knew from reading and making a step towards the animal like in trance. ʻItʼs beautiful,ʼ
The man made an appreciative sound. ʻNot everybody has your excellent judgement,ʼ he said. ʻI even had to smuggle it into the country. Britain has got such ridiculous restriction, even for such ordinary pets. But I have to say that oneʼs quite an exemplar of its race. Itʼs just a shame their import is forbidden by most countries, itʼs really difficult selling them. And even more difficult to sell them to people who can treat them appropriately. I wish I knew a good place for the puppy.ʼ
Hagrid gulped, a sudden idea crossing his mind. ʻHow expensive would it be?ʼ he croaked, his voice almost failing him.
The man cocked his head to the right, frowning. ʻI am not sure how much it would be worth in British Galleons,ʼ he said slowly. ʻWe once sold a particularly fine puppy for a Talent.ʼ
The man stood there musing while Hagrid wondered with what talent he could pay. Dumbledore had lots of talent, probably he could ask him for a favour. After all the puppy might grow up into a wonderful watchdog, three times as efficient as the usual dog. He would need Dumbledoreʼs permission for a kennel anyway, the dog was already too large to keep in his hut.
ʻItʼs male or female?ʼ he asked, when the man continued to stare into nothingness.
ʻMale,ʼ murmured the man absentmindedly.
ʻYehʼre a sweet, fluffy thing,ʼ Hagrid said softly, earning himself a growl from the three snouts.
ʻSing,ʼ said the man, still not paying much attention.
ʻWhaʼ?ʼ asked Hagrid, confused.
The man woke from his reverie and with a quick, fluid movement drew pan pipes from his robes. He placed them at his lips and started to play. With the first note, the dogʼs three pairs of eyes blinked sleepily, and its heads sank to the paws. Hagrid cautiously approached the dog and patted one of the heads. The man stopped playing, and immediately the snouts sniffed aggressively. Hagrid started to hum, and the dog relaxed again.
ʻYehʼre a cute little furball,ʼ he crooned.
ʻI honour your understanding,ʼ exclaimed the man, truly beaming at Hagrid now. ʻI think I could hardly find a better place for the little darling than with you. Iʼll make a special price. Ninety-nine Galleons. What do you say?ʼ
Hagridʼs face fell a bit as he hummed on. That was a massive sum. But then, when did such an occasion come again? He had enough savings to narrowly afford this. ʻThaʼ sounds wonderful. But I havenʼ enough money with me now.ʼ
The man frowned and looked sharply at Hagrid, tapping a finger against his lips. Finally he asked, ʻYouʼve got an account at that bank of yours? Grigoron or something.ʼ
ʻGringotts,ʼ corrected Hagrid eagerly, glad that he had transferred all the money Dumbledore (truly, great man, Dumbledore) had given him for Christmas to the bank. ʻYes, I have.ʼ
ʻIʼll be in London next week to visit an old friend,ʼ the Greek said. ʻSo if you would sign a contract that allows me to get the money from the bank, I donʼt see any problem.ʼ
Hagridʼs face lightened. ʻThaʼs a great idea,ʼ he muttered, slowly getting to his feet and still completely entranced by the prospect of owning such a little darling. Then the dog growled thrice, making Hagrid bend down again and hum to calm it while patting it on the back.
Then they both retreated into the Hogʼs Head, Hagrid giving the dog one last glance of delight.