"The Philosopher's Stone?" Kyle raised an eyebrow, clear interest in his eyes, "Is it the kind made by Mr. Nicolas Flamel... Hogwarts is hiding something that valuable?"
"Don't ask, Kyle. I won't tell you." Hagrid replied sternly, his face hardening, "This is top secret — something young wizards like you shouldn't know about."
"A secret, huh..." Kyle shrugged indifferently, "If that's the case, I won't ask anymore."
Hagrid was caught off guard; he hadn't expected Kyle to give up so easily. Earlier, Harry had bombarded him with questions for quite a while.
They chatted a bit longer, and Kyle genuinely seemed uninterested in the Philosopher's Stone, never bringing it up again.
Hagrid suddenly sighed and murmured, "Honestly, I wish Harry could be more like you."
"Potter? What's wrong with him?"
"Nothing, nothing..." Hagrid quickly shook his head, "I just meant he was here earlier too."
"That's a good thing, Hagrid." Kyle said with a smile, "It means he cares about you."
"Yes…" Hagrid nodded.
Being cared for was certainly nice, but it would be even better if Harry's curiosity weren't so intense — and if he didn't ask about Fluffy and the Philosopher's Stone every time they met.
"By the way, when did Potter come by?" Kyle asked.
"About an hour ago, I think." Hagrid mused, "They only had one class this morning, so they came earlier."
"They?"
"Hermione and Ron too." Hagrid said, "The three of them have been spending a lot of time together lately."
As he spoke, he stood and stirred the pot with his ladle, scooping up a bit to taste.
The smell made Kyle's stomach churn, but he fought back his discomfort and asked, "By the way, Hagrid, has anything strange happened in the Forbidden Forest lately?"
"The Forbidden Forest?" Hagrid held the ladle, thought for a moment, then shook his head, "Don't know. I haven't been in there the past few days because of the Fluffy situation. Why do you ask?"
"Nothing, it just occurred to me." Kyle said, "Whoever used Dark Magic on Fluffy clearly had a motive, but now that Professor Dumbledore's been alerted, they won't be able to target Fluffy again. I'm just worried they might turn their attention to the Forbidden Forest."
"You mean someone might target the magical creatures in the forest?" Hagrid was startled, his ladle clattering to the floor.
"It's just a theory." Kyle replied, his expression unchanged, "There are plenty of dangerous magical creatures in the Forbidden Forest — werewolves, Acromantulas, unicorns... If any of them suddenly went berserk and stormed out, it would be a real headache for Hogwarts."
Hagrid picked up the ladle and paced back and forth. After a long pause, he finally said gravely, "You're right. I'll check the forest soon."
"Be careful." Kyle warned, "Anyone who could use Dark Magic on Fluffy might be as powerful as a professor. You need to be extremely cautious in there."
"Don't worry, I'll be careful."
Hagrid absentmindedly touched his pink umbrella, then went to the rack by the door and grabbed a crossbow, giving it a few experimental swings.
In the Forbidden Forest, this was more useful than magic.
"But you're wrong about one thing, Kyle." Hagrid put the crossbow back and smiled, "Unicorns aren't dangerous. They're pure and gentle, with very little ability to attack. Even if they went berserk, they could hardly hurt anyone — just don't get poked by the horn."
"That's debatable." Kyle countered, "Remember Professor Kettleburn? He ended up at St. Mungo's last summer after getting his stomach pierced by a unicorn."
"Ah..." Hagrid was momentarily lost for words.
He wanted to say Professor Kettleburn was an exception — no sane person would try to hug a unicorn's head while it was angry. Silvanus said he was just trying to calm the unicorn down.
Hagrid still didn't quite get that explanation. He wasn't sure if the unicorn calmed down, but Professor Kettleburn was certainly calm during treatment... after he passed out.
"Besides, unicorns have more ways to attack than just their horn." Kyle went on, "Their blood is deadly too. What if one ran into a crowd, then exploded on the spot, spraying blood everywhere? You wouldn't even need to drink it — just getting some on your lips is enough... and that curse is nearly impossible to remove."
"Huh?" Hagrid was stumped again.
This idea was even more far-fetched than the tale of Professor Kettleburn getting impaled.
A unicorn exploding on the spot — how could that even be possible?
"Remember Fluffy, Hagrid." Kyle said, his expression serious, "If someone was cruel enough to hurt a lovable three-headed dog, they wouldn't hesitate to harm a unicorn."
"Ah... yes, you're right." Hagrid's face grew solemn, and he nodded, "I'll keep an eye on those unicorns. As it happens, I know where they usually wander."
Kyle lingered a bit longer before quickly bidding the half-giant farewell and heading back to the castle.
Mostly because the smell from the pot kept getting worse, and he worried he might lose his lunch if he stayed.
✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭
That afternoon's class was Defense Against the Dark Arts.
When Professor Quirrell walked in, everyone noticed the bandage wrapped around his arm.
"Professor, are you hurt?" Someone asked.
"J-j-just a... m-m-minor in-injury." Professor Quirrell stammered, "W-w-while w-watching the Q-Quidditch match... s-someone k-k-kicked me off the stands and I... I b-broke my arm..."
"But Professor, that was days ago, wasn't it?" Another student said, "I broke my arm in flying class last year and went to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey fixed it in a second."
"T-t-that's d-different..." Professor Quirrell tried some excuse, his face growing even redder beneath his turban, "I w-w-was c-c-cursed by a v-v-vampire... V-very nasty m-magic... v-very d-d-difficult to h-heal..."
"But Professor, didn't you say last time that the vampire's curse only made you afraid of drafts?"
"P-p-perhaps I... I f-f-forgot to m-m-mention it..."
Quirrell clearly didn't want to discuss it further. He ignored the students' questions and abruptly changed the subject.
Today's lesson was on how to identify and deal with Red Caps.
Red Caps were troublesome, goblin-like creatures. Wherever blood had been spilled, you could find them — usually lurking in castle dungeons or the trenches of old battlefields, waiting to ambush the lost.
Since Professor Quirrell couldn't find a real Red Cap, he used a large lizard as a stand-in.
The lizard was something of a veteran performer in Defense Against the Dark Arts class — it had played the role of a Hinkypunk last time as well. It might as well have been called a teaching assistant.
"E-excuse me, c-class." Professor Quirrell stammered, nervously adjusting his turban, "Let us s-suppose, for the sake of demonstration, th-that this... this creature here is a R-Red Cap..."
Professor Quirrell balanced the lizard on his shoulder and began stuttering through the textbook lesson.
✭✭✭
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