The Scamander ✧ Harry Potter Year 1

Chapter 17

The night air on the Hogwarts grounds was something you felt in the draft through your window,   the pleasant breeze that chilled your skin against the warmth of the plentiful fires. But, this night that breeze we wore as a cold blanket, as we wandered out into the darkened fields down to Hagrid's hut. The adventure that had calmly brewed in the cauldron of childhood curiosity was now bubbling over. This was an adventure; but not one we took on to appease a bored mind, but one of the many steps down a path that we would never forget. 

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Our feet thump in sloppy beats against the dry stone path, that turns into the mossy foliage of Hagrid's garden. We stand at the helm of his overgrown hut. Harry breaks the sounds of our heavy breaths and the soft whistle of wind with the pounding on the door that reveals Hagrid. His cheeks are a flushed red, the reason for which, on such a cold spring night, could only be from the lengthy hours of kindling a fire. He sports an apron and his large hands wear cumbersome oven mitts, singe'd at the top. I raise a questioning eyebrow at the level of heat emitting from the hut, the smoke quietly funnelling out the windows slightly agape and the door tenderly opened. 

"Hagrid!" Harry calls up the giant. 

"Oh, hello. Sorry, don't wish to be rude, but I'm in no fit state to entertain today." Hagrid says, beginning to close the door on our widening eyes. 

"We know about the Philosopher's Stone!" We all say. Hagrid hesitates, before opening the door wider. 

"Oh." He allows us entrance into his hut, and I scurry in away from the cold. 

"We think Snape's trying to steal it." The words rush out of Harry's mouth. I look around at the metal tools that lay frantically scattered on the floor, and the fire that was pleasantly stoked, a lonesome pot sitting directly amongst the flames. 

"Snape? Blimey, Harry, you're not still on about him, are you?" Hagrid shuffles in front of my view of that pot on the fire. 

"Hagrid, we know he's after the Stone. We just don't know why." Harry says.

"Snape is one of the teachers protecting the Stone! He's not about to steal it!" I gasp in surprise.

"Pardon?" I look at the burly man.  

"You heard." Hagrid says, "Right. Come on, now, I'm a bit preoccupied today." Fang jumps up in protest as if understanding his owner, his large body thudding against mine as he stands on his hind legs to place sloppy kisses on my face. 

The feeling of the rough and slimy tongue unreservedly lapping up the side of my face induced laughter. "Good boy, yes, good boy." I coo, scratching behind Fang's ear. 

"Wait a minute. One of the teachers?" Harry says. I brush Fang off my body, kneeling on the floor to pet his head roughly for his pleasure. 

"Of course!" Hermione calls from the giant chair which engulfs her body, "There are other things defending the Stone, aren't there? Spells, enchantments."

"That's right. Waste of bloody time, if you ask me." Hagrid scoffs, his gaze meeting mine and Fangs, a smile grows on his face, "Ain't no one gonna get past Fluffy, not a soul knows how. Except for me and Dumbledore." Instant regret shadowing his face. I meet the eyes of my friends, they are just as startled as me by Hagrid's words. "I shouldn't have told you that. I shouldn't have told you that." 

The cauldron over the fire cackles. Loudly, and distractedly. Its sharp metal clangs throttling the quiet air. The half-giant ushers over in a half-run over to the makeshift stove.