"Yes, Professor. I understand, Professor. Next time, I'll make sure to distinguish them clearly, and I'll even ask Hagrid to double-check for me, okay?"
After finally appeasing the elderly professor, who was completely engrossed in magical creatures, Hagrid awkwardly admitted, "Well, recently, I was fooling around with my wand in the house, and I accidentally set half my bed on fire."
Lys rolled her eyes as she clutched her wand. "And then? Did you burn the thank-you gifts along with it?"
Watching Hagrid nervously rub his large belly, Lys sighed and put away the cloth bag she had prepared. "Never mind, then. During the holidays, I'll just sell some protective gear and rummage around Knockturn Alley."
Hagrid, visibly uneasy, scratched his belly again. "Wait, Lys. Aragog has collected a lot of strange items. I'll go fetch some right now. Just wait here for me."
He felt deeply apologetic for burning Lys's belongings with the wand she had helped repair. It was simply inexcusable.
"You should keep them, Hagrid. Those were gifts from your friend. You know how valuable these things are to wizards. What if he needs them someday?"
Seeing that Hagrid was already putting on his coat to head into the forest, Lys quickly tried to dissuade him. "It's fine. For me, Knockturn Alley is no different from home as long as I'm careful. After all, I'm a wicked, cunning Dark Witch. Don't worry~"
The rare joke only made Hagrid more determined. He stared at her with his small, serious eyes. "Lys, Knockturn Alley is not a safe place. It's too dangerous for a young witch like you. Don't worry about it. Aragog isn't a wizard, and those items were collected specifically for me. Just wait here. I'll be back soon."
Lys tugged at Hagrid's coat, but it was impossible to stop him.
Rolling her eyes, she waved her wand to clean Hagrid's greasy cauldron, restored the soot-blackened wooden beams above his bed, and tidied up the corners and crevices Hagrid hadn't even noticed.
She opened the window, letting the dust, hair, and food scraps drift out. Then she cast Scourgify several times on the floor before letting Gulp crawl around and play.
As for herself, she sat upright on the oversized sofa, occasionally using her wand to conjure a magical ball to tease Gulp, who darted around like a bouncing sausage.
While playing with Gulp, Lys couldn't help but marvel at how generous Hagrid's friend must be. But what did he mean by "not a wizard"? A Squib? A friend with the same bloodline? As her thoughts wandered further, Hagrid returned.
He entered the hut with leaves and dust falling from his hair, brushing them off as he walked toward Lys. The resulting cloud of dust settled on the floor, the table, the sofa, and on Lys and Gulp themselves.
"Don't move, Hagrid! Stop moving! Scourgify! Scourgify!" Lys cast the cleaning spell repeatedly on the surroundings and on Hagrid.
Since starting school, Lys had come to understand what normal living habits should be. Due to some cognitive biases, she had grown heavily reliant on Scourgify.
But this didn't apply to Gulp. Seeing Gulp covered in dust, with even a dried leaf stuck to his head, Lys ignored the items Hagrid was holding and turned to grab a large stone basin. She filled it with water using Aguamenti and began washing Gulp.
"A simple Scourgify would do, Lys. That was a stone pot I just finished making..." Hagrid began.
Lys clicked her tongue. "This is Gulp! He needs to be clean!" She gestured for Hagrid to wait as she rolled up her sleeves. "Casting Scourgify on skin feels uncomfortable, and it can cause scales and fur to crack and split!"
Hagrid, who had just set down the items he was holding, paused and touched his freshly cleaned hair, looking slightly aggrieved.
Seeing this, Lys said while scrubbing Gulp, "I use Scourgify on my own hair too. What's wrong with that?"
Hagrid thought about it. It did seem reasonable. Small creatures were always more delicate and required extra care. This only proved that Lys was a caring and responsible girl, didn't it?
Bending down, Hagrid emptied the bag he had brought. "Here, Lys, take a look and see if there's anything you like. Aragog recommended these bones, but they're so cleanly gnawed that I can't tell what they are. And this—Fawkes's feather!"
He held up a golden-red feather with slight splits at the ends. "You know Fawkes, right? Dumbledore's phoenix. Aragog said it fell off during a fight with a gray-black owl. Look, it didn't even self-ignite! That's really rare, but there's only one, and it's so small."
As Hagrid rummaged through the items, he muttered about tusks from a Crumple-Horned Snorkack and a shell from a Rune Snake.
Then he pulled out a stone. "Aragog said this stone is strange. His children became very agitated after touching it, so I brought it back." He tossed the stone aside, its rounded shape causing it to roll a short distance before stopping against the basin.
As Lys turned to look at the stone, Gulp suddenly twisted his body, baring his massive fangs in a threatening display.
The hissing sound startled Lys. Her first instinct was to pick Gulp up. Soaked with water, Gulp continued hissing menacingly at the stone.
Lys kicked the stone far away, feeling the emotion Gulp transmitted as he coiled around her shoulder—fear.
For a moment, she didn't know whether to be angry that something had frightened Gulp or happy that Gulp had clearly communicated his emotions to her.
Then she stood there with her mouth half-open, her gaze shifting between Gulp, the stone, and Hagrid. Her hands, still holding her wand, waved aimlessly in the air.
This was only the second time Gulp had communicated his emotions in the four years since he had been with her. The first time was in her second year, when one of Snape's roommates injured Gulp, and he conveyed a sense of grievance.
This time, it was fear. Lys felt a surge of excitement, but wait...
Fear? Of what? Ignoring her damp shirt from Gulp's wet body, Lys cradled his head and comforted him before pointing her wand at the stone.
"Hagrid, what exactly did your friend say about this stone? That it made his children agitated?"
Hagrid, still holding two grass roots, seemed puzzled by Lys suddenly draping the snake around her neck.
"Yes, that's right. Aragog said six of his children even fought over it."
Lys glanced at Hagrid out of the corner of her eye, her wariness growing. Goodness, his friend certainly had no shortage of offspring.
Six children!
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