Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the intellectual property associated with Harry Potter.
Hi all,
Here's the next chapter. Harry settles into Hogwarts and starts looking for a hidden dungeon.
Chapter 21
Harry sat in his seat at the Gryffindor table. Hermione settled beside him and Celeste swooped down from his shoulder, landing between two goblets. As soon as the platters of food materialised on the table, Celeste dragged a clean spoon across the table and began scooping tiny portions onto her small plate.
Several nearby students didn't immediately start plating food and watched Celeste instead. The fairy had been attracting a lot of attention due to her unique appearance. The Ravenclaws had cornered Harry at breakfast, peppering him with questions about her origins. Celeste had preened under their attention, spinning tales about her kind while carefully omitting anything significant.
The Great Hall doors crashed open. Ron, Percy, and the twins rushed in behind their parents. Mr and Mrs Weasley veered toward Dumbledore at the staff table while their children headed for the Gryffindor benches.
Ron dropped into the seat across from Harry, piling his plate with roast chicken and potatoes. "What a relief. I thought I'd miss dinner."
"How did it go?" Hermione asked.
"St Mungo's checked us over completely," Ron said between mouthfuls. "No curses, no memory charms, nothing dodgy at all. Clean bill of health for everyone."
Harry's shoulders relaxed. "Good to hear."
"Did I miss anything important?" Ron asked.
"Well..." Hermione glanced around before lowering her voice. "Everyone's freaking out about Harry. He performed the Wand-Lighting Charm with his hand in Charms today, and now the whole school thinks he can do wandless magic. Even though Professor Flitwick explained the situation."
Ron scanned the hall, catching a pair of third-years staring at Harry. "Oi, what are you gawking at?"
The students snapped their heads back to their plates.
"Ron, your bluntness is like the strongest Repelling Charm," Harry said. "It drives away unwanted company faster than anything else."
Ron rubbed his neck. "Should I take that as a compliment?"
Hermione snorted into her pumpkin juice.
"What classes did I miss?" Ron asked.
"You missed Potions," Harry said. "It was our very first class."
Ron's shoulders slumped in relief. "Dodged a curse there. Fred says Snape's worse than a Hungarian Horntail with a toothache."
"Professor Snape," Hermione cut in, then caught herself. "Though after that display..."
"Converting you to the dark side already?" Harry asked.
"He singled you out for no reason," Hermione said. "It's not right."
"He hates my guts," Harry agreed.
"The twins told me Snape holds grudges easily," Ron said. "Maybe it's not you who he hates but your parents. I think he's the same age as your parents would have been."
"I thought he was much older," Harry murmured, thinking about Ron's words. They were surprisingly insightful.
Ron laughed. "Looks like an old greasy bat, doesn't he?"
Celeste raised her head from her plate. "Maybe he's a vampire?"
"Would explain the dungeon-dwelling," Harry mused. "And how he sucks the joy out of every room he walks into."
As if Harry had planned it, Snape walked into the hall at that moment, causing the boys to laugh.
"Any news about Pettigrew?" Ron asked.
Harry shook his head. "You're likely to hear something before we do."
"Wotcher, Harry!" Arms snaked around his shoulders from behind. "Miss me?"
Tonks dropped onto the bench beside Harry. Several older Gryffindors called out greetings, including the Weasley twins who shot her identical grins.
"Missed the feast yesterday," Harry said, watching his sausage disappear into her mouth.
"Got detention with Snape." Tonks talked around a mouthful of food. "Punched Marcus Flint on the train. Git deserved it."
"What did he do?"
"Made some nasty comments." Her hair flashed crimson. "Nothing a good punch couldn't fix."
"And Snape gave you detention for defending yourself?"
"Course he did. Worth it though. Should've seen Flint's face when I broke his nose."
"Going to introduce us, Harry?" Hermione asked, eyeing Tonks's shifting hair.
"Right. This is Nymph—"
The fork jabbed his ribs before he could finish. Tonks turned to Hermione with a dangerous smile. "Name's Tonks. Just Tonks. Use anything else and you'll find out exactly how creative I can get with this fork. Clear, Harry?"
"Crystal," Harry muttered, rubbing his side.
Ron shook his head. "You've got weird friends, mate."
"You just insulted yourself, Ron," Hermione pointed out.
"Never said I wasn't weird, did I?"
Tonks shook her head fondly. "Typical Weasley."
"How do you change your hair like that?" Hermione asked.
Tonks's hair morphed into a mirror of Hermione's bushy mane. "Well, you see, I've mastered wandless—-"
"She's a Metamorphmagus," Harry cut in.
Tonks's glare promised revenge as Hermione launched into rapid-fire questions, overwhelming the girl.
Dumbledore stood as the puddings disappeared, commanding immediate silence. "Before you depart, I must address two matters. First, regarding Mr Potter's unique situation—I ask you not to spread unfounded rumours about wandless magic. Second, concerning last night's events in Gryffindor Tower—we apprehended an intruder who threatened student safety. The Aurors have the situation under control."
After dinner, they made their way up to the Gryffindor Tower. As they walked through the sixth-floor corridor, a voice called out. "Hold there, young man!"
Harry turned to face a portrait of a burly wizard in medieval clothing, brandishing a sword.
"Glanmore Peakes, at your service." The portrait sniffed the air. "Why do I smell Sea Serpent on you?"
Harry sniffed himself.
Ron sniggered. "I wasn't going to mention it, but Harry does smell a bit fishy."
Celeste giggled as Hermione's elbow caught Ron in the ribs.
"You're a portrait," Harry said. "You can't smell anything."
Glanmore jabbed a finger at him. "Don't try to fool me, laddie. I've got the nose of a hound. Now, where are you hiding the Sea Serpent?"
Harry realised what he was referring to. "It's my wand. The core is a Sea Serpent scale."
"Ah!" Glanmore's face brightened. "Then you're alright in my books. I slayed one of those beasties back in my day. Nasty brutes."
"You sound Scottish," Hermione said. "Have you ever encountered the Loch Ness Monster?"
Glanmore squinted. "Another Muggle-born, eh? Must have rocks in your head to believe such tall tales."
Harry and Ron laughed as Hermione's cheeks flushed pink.
"Don't be a stranger, laddie," Glanmore called as they walked away. "I've got tales to share. Maybe you'll replicate my feat one day."
"Are you going to take him up on his suggestion?" Hermione asked.
Harry shrugged. "Probably."
He found himself wanting to hear the old wizard's tales. Furthermore, the meeting with the lively portrait sparked an idea in his mind. If it worked, it would unlock Scotland sooner than he expected.
The Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom reeked of garlic—strings of it hung from the ceiling and filled bowls on windowsills. Harry slid into a seat near the middle with his friends, his nose wrinkling at the overwhelming stench. Professor Quirrell shuffled in, casting a nervous glance at the students.
The professor's purple turban drew Harry's attention. His mana sense prickled whenever he looked at it, picking up on traces of magic he couldn't identify. What was he hiding under the turban?
Harry tapped his glasses, activating his display, expecting to see the usual floating text.
Quirinus Quirrell - ? - ?
Harry frowned. He had never encountered this situation before.
"W-welcome to D-defence Against the D-dark Arts," Quirrell stuttered, chalk squeaking across the blackboard. "T-today we'll discuss basic defensive theory and the f-foundations of protective magic."
Harry quickly lost his enthusiasm for the class as Quirrell droned on. It seemed like everyone else felt the same, judging by their faces. Only Hermione looked engaged, her hand shooting up at every question.
"The g-garlic is to w-ward off a v-vampire I met in Romania," Quirrell explained, noticing Lavender Brown pinching her nose. "I k-keep it as a p-precaution after my u-unfortunate encounter."
"Sounds like rubbish to me," Celeste whispered from Harry's pocket, her tiny face scrunched in disgust. "No vampire would be affected by garlic. What are they afraid of? Halitosis? And that stutters as fake as Dumbledore's twinkling eyes."
Harry leaned forward as Quirrell demonstrated the Knockback Jinx, twirling his wand in a tight spiral. A burst of blue light shot across the classroom, slamming into a practice dummy. The straw-filled target skidded back several feet.
The professor's stutter vanished as he cast, his movements fluid and precise. The moment he lowered his wand to explain the theory, the stutter crashed back full force, as if he'd forgotten to maintain it.
Harry straightened in his seat, his interest piqued. Defence class offered the opportunity to unlock both the Defence and Dark Charms Primers. The official curriculum limited the amount of jinxes, hexes and curses the professors could teach their students. Yet Quirrell's first class suggested he planned to teach them more than just a few, and not just their counters. This class may be more interesting than he first thought.
"T-the Knockback J-jinx provides a simple b-but effective way to create d-distance between yourself and an opponent," Quirrell said, wringing his hands. "P-pair up and practice the m-movement. No m-magic yet—just the motion."
Harry partnered with Ron while Hermione joined Neville at the next desk. They practised the spiral pattern Quirrell had shown them, though Harry had to modify it slightly to work with his arm wand.
A crash from the back of the room made everyone jump. Quirrell had knocked over a stack of books while passing between the desks, sending them scattering across the floor. As he apologised profusely, wringing his hands, Harry noticed one heavy tome teetering on a shelf directly above his head.
Harry dove forward as the book crashed down, missing him by inches. The leather-bound volume hit his desk with enough force to crack the wood.
"S-so sorry," Quirrell stammered, rushing over. His hands trembled as he helped Harry up. "Are you alright, P-potter? These old sh-shelves can be quite treacherous."
Harry pushed himself up, eyes narrowing. The book's trajectory seemed too precise to be accidental—it had fallen at exactly the right angle to strike him. But Quirrell's concerned expression appeared genuine.
"I'm fine, Professor."
"Perhaps we should end early today," Quirrell suggested, dabbing his forehead with a handkerchief. "The excitement has been too much for our f-first lesson."
As they packed up, Harry replayed the incident in his mind. The book's fall could have been a coincidence, but why had only that specific book fallen? And how had it cleared the shelf's protective lip? He'd need to watch Quirrell more carefully.
"That was strange," Hermione said as they left the class.
"Maybe it was cursed," Ron suggested, shouldering his bag. "Dad says lots of dark objects end up at Hogwarts. The professors can't catch everything."
Harry stayed quiet, mulling over the incident. Between the unreadable status, the magical turban, and the falling book, Quirrell had jumped to the top of his watch list.
Harry's first week at Hogwarts passed in a blur of lessons and homework. Transfiguration proved challenging—McGonagall watched him like a hawk as he attempted to turn matches into needles. His arm-wand complicated the precise movements required, though by Thursday he'd managed a passable transformation. Only Hermione outperformed him in the class.
He hadn't yet unlocked the Primer for Transfiguration. Once he did, he figured his skills would improve.
Charms came more naturally. He already knew the spells Flitwick taught. He topped the class with Hermione close behind in second place. Between them, they earned loads of points for Gryffindor. The tiny professor seemed fascinated by Harry's unique situation, often asking him to demonstrate spells to the class.
Potions remained a nightmare. Snape loomed over his cauldron, waiting for mistakes that never materialised. Harry's brewing experience served him well, though Snape still found reasons to dock points. At least Celeste's banishment from the classroom spared her from the professor's caustic remarks.
Celeste kept herself entertained regardless. She grew bored of attending lessons and started exploring on her own. Harry dreaded to think what mischief she would get up to.
Each day after lessons, Harry visited Glanmore's portrait. The old wizard regaled him with tales of his privateering days in the North Sea, showing no shame in his former profession.
"Legitimate privateering, lad," Glanmore insisted, puffing up his painted chest. "Had letters of marque and everything. Course, sometimes they expired before we finished our business."
Harry wondered if Glanmore had ever encountered Potter Isle. But the portrait never mentioned anything specific enough to confirm his suspicions.
Herbology and History of Magic rounded out his timetable. Sprout praised his careful handling of plants, praise that rang hollow as he'd gained his expertise tending the Dursleys' garden. History was dreadful, with Binns droning on about goblin rebellions, oblivious to his sleeping pupils. Harry had already read the textbook, which covered Binns' lecture word-for-word, so he used the time to complete his homework.
Defence remained troubling. Quirrell's stutter worsened whenever Harry entered the room. No more incidents occurred, but Harry remained vigilant.
Through it all, thoughts of Sirius Black nagged at him. The Daily Prophet ran daily updates about Pettigrew's capture and the Ministry's investigation but revealed nothing about his godfather's case.
On Friday afternoon, as Harry packed up after another Defence lesson, Dumbledore appeared in the doorway.
"A moment, Harry?" The headmaster's eyes twinkled. "Madam Bones wishes to speak with you."
Harry followed Dumbledore through the castle's winding corridors to a stone gargoyle.
"Acid Pops," Dumbledore said, and the statue leapt aside, revealing a spiral staircase.
The headmaster's office buzzed with silver instruments. Portraits of previous headmasters lined the walls, most pretending to sleep. A magnificent red and gold bird perched near the desk, watching Harry with intelligent eyes.
Celeste flew over to inspect the bird. "I wonder what loot you would drop?"
The bird trilled, tilting his head in enquiry.
A square-jawed witch with a monocle stood as they entered.
"Mr Potter. Thank you for coming." She extended her hand. "Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."
"Is this about Sirius Black?" Harry asked, settling into a chair.
"Straight to the point." Madam Bones adjusted her monocle. "Yes. Peter Pettigrew's capture has raised serious questions about your godfather's case. Questions that should have been asked twelve years ago."
"Why weren't they?"
Bones' expression hardened. "Sirius Black never got a trial. The previous administration had irregular procedures during the war. Many Death Eaters claimed to be under the Imperius Curse. In the chaos, proper procedure wasn't always followed."
Harry's brows furrowed. "So what happens now?"
"We're reopening the case. Pettigrew's questioning under Veritaserum revealed some disturbing information. It seems Mr Black wasn't your parents' Secret Keeper after all."
"It was Pettigrew?"
"Yes. Your parents switched at the last moment, believing Mr Black too obvious a choice. Only he, Pettigrew, and your parents knew."
"And Pettigrew betrayed them to Voldemort." Harry's voice thickened with anger.
Bones nodded, ignoring his use of the Dark Lord's name.
"We're arranging Mr Black's transfer from Azkaban for questioning. If his story matches Pettigrew's..." She spread her hands. "We may have imprisoned an innocent man."
"How long until you know?"
"A few days at most. The evidence against him is crumbling. Those Muggles he supposedly killed? Pettigrew staged the explosion himself, transformed, and escaped through the sewers. He's admitted to everything under Veritaserum."
Harry digested this information. "What happens to Sirius if he's innocent?"
"Full exoneration and compensation for wrongful imprisonment. And..." Bones glanced at Dumbledore. "As your godfather, he would have a claim to your guardianship."
"I thought you had sealed the wills?" Harry also looked at Dumbledore.
"As part of the investigation, we had to unseal your parent's wills," Amelia answered before Dumbledore could. "A criminal investigation expedites matters."
Hope flared in Harry's chest. A way out of the Dursleys? But no—the blood wards complicated things. He doubted Dumbledore would let him leave so easily.
"Thank you for telling me," Harry said. "Will I be able to meet him? If he's innocent?"
"That would be his choice," Bones replied. "Azkaban... changes people, Mr Potter. Don't expect too much too quickly."
Harry nodded, understanding the unspoken warning. Even if Sirius was innocent, twelve years with Dementors would leave scars. He had read up on the Dementors because he imagined the dark creatures would make for an interesting opponent. What if there was a dungeon there?
Azkaban was a neighbour of Potter Isle, although they were separated by a fair distance. The island was technically a part of Scotland, so it might have a dungeon, though he didn't foresee himself visiting the place anytime soon.
"We'll keep you informed," Bones promised, rising from her seat. "Good day, Mr Potter, Headmaster."
After she left, Dumbledore studied Harry over his half-moon spectacles. "Questions?"
"Could I read my parents' will now?"
Dumbledore reached into his desk and withdrew a thick parchment sealed with wax. "I bought a copy from the Ministry this morning."
Harry broke the seal, his fingers trembling slightly. The legal language washed over him—cold, impersonal phrases that reduced his parents' final wishes to mere property distribution. No personal messages, no words of love or guidance. Just assets, accounts, and instructions.
"Perhaps they left their personal messages in the Potter vault," Dumbledore suggested.
Harry nodded and continued reading. Most of the estate passed to him, except for some minor inheritances they gave to friends. The will named four potential guardians: Sirius Black, Frank and Alice Longbottom, Andromeda and Ted Tonks, and Minerva McGonagall. His aunt wasn't even mentioned.
He already knew the reason why Dumbledore sealed the will but the idea that he had other options besides the Dursleys rankled.
Andromeda and Ted had to be Tonk's parents. Did they tell her about them potentially being his guardians? Perhaps it explained why she was so friendly to him.
"What about Remus Lupin? His name's come up before. Why have I never met him?"
Something flickered across Dumbledore's face. "Remus chose to distance himself after your parents' death. Grief affects us all differently, Harry. Some face it head on, others retreat."
"He abandoned me?"
"He sent monthly letters asking about your welfare. But he never requested to see you himself." Dumbledore sighed. "I believe he felt unworthy after failing to recognise Sirius' betrayal. I have contacted Remus about the current situation but haven't received a response yet."
Harry smoothed the crumpled parchment, anger fading to hollow disappointment. He'd hoped to find another connection to his parents, but Remus had cut that tie himself.
"Thank you for showing me this, Headmaster." He stood, tucking the will into his robes. "I need to get back to my dormitory."
Descending the spiral staircase, Harry let out a long breath. The will had told him nothing of real value—no hidden secrets, no guidance from beyond the grave. But then, a Ministry-registered document wasn't the place for personal messages. His parents would have been idiots to put anything sensitive in a document others could access.
His family vault might hold what he sought—letters, journals, personal effects—the kind of legacy that couldn't be contained in legal documents. He just had to be patient a bit longer.
Two fifth-year students passed Harry in the corridor, eyeing him curiously. To be fair, not many students stood in front of a magical portrait and conversed with their occupants for hours on end.
"Look, it's simple," Glanmore said. "Hogwarts shifts and changes, but there's always a pattern. The staircases move on a cycle—you need to learn their rhythm."
Harry nodded, making mental notes. The portraits' insights into Hogwarts' architecture proved invaluable, even if his long-winded stories about historical duels dragged on. He should befriend some more portraits and see what knowledge they had to share.
"Thanks for the tips," Harry said, cutting off another tale before it could begin. "I should head to dinner."
"Any time, lad. Drop by whenever you need more stories about—"
A notification pinged in Harry's HUD.
Congratulations! You have made a friend from Scotland. The final requirement for unlocking the next set of counties has been met. Please choose three counties from the following list
Harry grinned. The System's definition of "friend" proved delightfully flexible—no one specified his Scottish companion needed a pulse.
He didn't hesitate and chose Scotland, Ireland, and Wales. It made sense to unlock the countries closest to his home first, as he wouldn't have to travel far to find more dungeons.
More notifications flashed across his vision in rapid succession:
Scotland, Ireland, and Wales have been unlocked in the System. All features are now available:
* Dungeons in these three countries are now accessible.
* Quests specific to these three countries are now available.
* They have been added to the World Map.
Three quest notifications followed:
New Main Quest: The Mark of Mystery
Description: Harry Potter's scar defies normal magical analysis, resisting standard diagnostic charms and healing magic. Madam Pomfrey's tests revealed unusual properties that warrant investigation. Uncover the truth behind this magical remnant and remove it.
Main Objectives: (Not all objectives are required besides the last one.)
1. Research curse scars in the library's restricted section.
2. Undergo specialised diagnostic tests with Healers.
3. Find a skill that helps identify the scar.
4. Find a way to remove the scar.
Rewards: Information on Harry's past; Removes the burden that's draining a portion of Harry's MP.
Sub-Objective:
1. Complete the first three main objectives.
Sub-Objective Reward: 500 XP; 2 PP
Time Limit: End of the school year.
Quest Difficulty: High
Note: Ignoring the scar may lead to unforeseen consequences.
New Side Quest: The Hidden Dungeon
Description: A dimensional gate lurks somewhere in Hogwarts, hidden inside a secret chamber. Find it before a dungeon break occurs and the monsters escape to attack the school.
Objectives:
1. Search for clues to the hidden chamber.
2. Enter the chamber and find the gate.
3. Conquer the dungeon and close the gate.
Rewards: 3000 XP; new side quests unlocked.
Time Limit: 3 months
Quest Difficulty: High
New Side Quest: Academic Excellence
Description: The end-of-year exams at Hogwarts determine more than just grades. High marks across all subjects unlock advanced learning opportunities and earn recognition that could prove valuable in future endeavours. Excel in your studies while maintaining your secret training.
Objectives:
1. Achieve Outstanding in at least 4 subjects.
2. Unlock Primers for Transfiguration, Defence, Dark Charms, and Potions.
3. Brew 10 different potions in Snape's class.
4. Complete 10 successful transfigurations.
5. Earn 200 house points through academic achievement.
Rewards: 10,000 XP, INT 5
Time Limit: End-of-term exams.
Quest Difficulty: Moderate
Harry closed the notifications. The priority was to find the hidden dungeon. The castle's wards meant nothing if he could use Gate Walker to slip away whenever he wanted.
His fingers brushed the scar on his forehead. He lost fifteen percent of his total mana because of the cursed mark. He wanted to get rid of it. But the biggest motivator was the promise of uncovering more about his past.
"Everything alright, dear boy?" Glanmore asked, peering at Harry's distant expression.
"Never better," Harry said. "Though I might need more of those castle layout tips sooner than expected."
Glanmore beamed. "Splendid! Let me tell you about the time I discovered a hidden passage behind the—"
"Tomorrow," Harry interrupted, already heading for the Great Hall. "I've got things to do. Thanks for the stories, old pirate."
The following day, Harry had History for his first lesson, which suited his plans perfectly.
Harry raised his hand, cutting through Binns' monotone lecture about yet another goblin rebellion. "Professor, are there any hidden chambers in Hogwarts?"
The ghost paused mid-sentence, his spectral glasses sliding down his nose as he peered at Harry. "Mr Potter. I do not appreciate interruptions during my carefully planned lectures on significant historical events."
"It's for a history project," Harry lied smoothly.
Hermione shot Harry a suspicious glance, wondering what he was planning.
Binns sighed. "There are countless secret passages and hidden rooms within these ancient walls, but only one carries true historical significance—the Chamber of Secrets."
The class stirred. Even Ron lifted his head, wiping drool from his chin.
"Salazar Slytherin constructed it before he departed from Hogwarts," Binns continued. "Legend claims he sealed within it a monster that only his true heir could control. Utter rubbish, of course. The chamber's existence has never been proven despite numerous searches."
Harry frowned. Finding the chamber wouldn't be as straightforward as he'd first imagined. Or was he looking for another chamber entirely?
"What sort of monster?" Hermione asked.
"The tales vary. Most accounts suggest a creature capable of purging the school of those Slytherin deemed unworthy to study magic. Muggle-borns, primarily." His eyes flicked to Hermione. "But it's merely a myth perpetuated through centuries of—"
The bell rang, cutting off his dismissal of the legend. Students scrambled for the door, bags knocking against desks in their haste to escape the stuffy classroom.
"Professor," Harry called out as Binns began to drift toward the blackboard. "Could you tell me more about the chamber?"
"I'm not in the habit of indulging in fairy tales, Mr Potter. However, if you insist on pursuing this fantasy, speak with Hagrid. The gamekeeper possesses an unfortunate history with the chamber. Although I still believe what happened back then was..." He disappeared through the wall before he could finish his sentence.
After lessons ended that afternoon, Harry dragged Hermione and Ron across the grounds towards Hagrid's hut.
"Why are you so keen on this Chamber of Secrets, Harry?" Hermione asked.
"I spotted a reference to a secret chamber in the library," Harry lied. "Piqued my interest. To be honest, half the lessons are too easy and I'm getting rather bored. This is a nice distraction."
Hermione nodded. "I understand that. But don't let it affect your schoolwork."
Harry saluted. "Yes, Professor Granger!"
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Wonder what Hagrid's got to do with it?" Ron mused. "Reckon he knows something?"
Harry shrugged. "I'm hoping he might give me a clue where to find the chamber."
"Or it could be a dead end," Hermione pointed out. "Professor Binns said it's just a legend. And why would Salazar Slytherin build a secret chamber just to hide a monster?"
They reached Hagrid's hut, smoke curling from the chimney into the grey sky. Harry's knock echoed through the wooden door.
"Back, Fang! Get back, yeh great lump!" Hagrid's voice boomed from inside. Several crashes followed before the door creaked open, revealing his massive frame filling the doorway. "'Ello, 'Arry. Been meanin' ter introduce meself. Come in! Jus' made a fresh pot o' tea."
They squeezed past him into the one-room cabin, ducking the hams and pheasants hanging from the ceiling. A massive boarhound slobbered over their robes until Hagrid hauled him back by his collar.
"Are you a fan of Harry's?" Ron asked.
Hagrid's brows furrowed. "Wha'?"
Harry sighed. "What the tactless Ron meant is why do you want to meet me?"
Hagrid's expression softened into a warm smile. "Oh, why didn' yeh say so in the firs' place? I knew yer parents, 'Arry."
Harry straightened. "Oh?"
Hagrid settled into his enormous armchair, which creaked under his weight.
"Yer dad, James—bit of a troublemaker, if I'm honest. Always sneakin' around the grounds with his mates after hours. Lost count of how many times I caught 'em near the forest." Hagrid chuckled. "But he had a good heart, James did. Head Boy in his final year, if yeh can believe it."
"And my mum?" Harry asked.
"Lily." Hagrid's face softened. "Brightest witch of her age, she was. Used ter visit me for tea, jus' like you lot. Always had time fer everyone, didn' matter if they were popular or not. Had a temper though—saw her hex yer dad more'n once when he was bein' a right prat."
Harry smiled, picturing the scene. "How did they end up together?"
"Ah, well, James grew up a bit in his sixth year. Started takin' things more serious-like. Lily noticed the change, and..." Hagrid dabbed at his eyes with a tablecloth-sized handkerchief. "Should've seen 'em at their weddin'. Never saw two people more in love."
Hagrid shot to his feet and bustled about preparing tea, his cheeks flushed from the emotional moment.
"'Eard what happened with Scabbers," Hagrid said, pouring tea into bucket-sized cups that dwarfed their hands. "Nasty business, that. Must've been quite the shock fer the Weasleys."
"Oi, you're talking like I'm not even here," Ron grumbled.
Hagrid's lips twitched. "'Ard ter miss that red 'air of yours, innit?"
"We're actually here to ask you something, Hagrid," Harry said. "What do you know about the Chamber of Secrets?"
Hagrid's hands trembled, sloshing tea across the scrubbed wooden table. His beetle-black eyes darted between them. "Where'd yeh hear 'bout that?"
"Professor Binns mentioned it. Said you might know more."
"Shouldn'ta done that," Hagrid muttered, tugging at his wild beard. "That chamber's nothin' but trouble. Got me expelled, it did."
Harry leaned forward. "You were expelled because of the chamber?"
"Shouldn't have said that." Hagrid mopped up the spilt tea with his sleeve, refusing to meet their eyes. "Look, some things are best left buried. Someone died las' time the chamber was opened."
"Last time?" Hermione's eyes widened. "So it exists?"
"Don' know 'bout that." Hagrid stood abruptly, his head brushing the ceiling as he rattled the cups. "But strange things happened. A girl died in a bathroom. They blamed my... well, doesn' matter now. Ancient history."
"Which bathroom?" Harry pressed, standing too. "Hagrid, this is important."
"Out!" Hagrid herded them toward the door, his huge hands gentle but insistent. "Nice visit, but I've got... gamekeeper things ter do. Important stuff."
They stumbled outside as the door slammed behind them. Fang's mournful howl followed them across the grounds.
"Well, that wasn't suspicious at all," Ron said, brushing dog hair from his robes.
Harry nodded. "A girl died in a bathroom. Shouldn't be too difficult to find out where."
One step closer to finding the gate. Once he did, he wouldn't be confined to Hogwarts. He would be free to explore the world as he pleased.
So, what do you think? In the next chapter, Harry and Celeste explore another dungeon.
Patrons get access to advanced chapters for all of my stories. Read my profile for information on how to join if you are interested.
Thanks for reading.