Cao Cao's poem ended with the line, "The God of Dreams fed the worthy, and the world submitted to him."
At that moment, he compared himself to the God of Dreams, no longer thinking of himself as a general of the west, caught between advancing and retreating. But Harry's mindset remained unchanged; he didn't rely on schemes, compromises, or discarded principles to rise—he sought to be a king, a true ruler of all he surveyed.
Under the heavens, no land escaped the King, and to the farthest shores, no subject was beyond his domain. Young as he was, blessed with divine power, he couldn't know how long he would live. He longed for friends, for love, yet where could he find such connections? As for romance, it was almost irrelevant; he could have anyone, but it would be purely for mutual benefit.
Even ordinary kings dared not meet him directly, and Harry, a god-like sovereign, was even more untouchable. Returning to youth, he had gained a few more allies… "Don't be shy," Hagrid encouraged, chatting for a while before motioning everyone to sit.
The small wooden hut had only one room. Hams and pheasants dangled from the ceiling, a copper kettle hissed over the brazier, and a large bed sat in the corner under a patchwork quilt.
"You're really rich, Hagrid," Harry said, glancing around. Many of the items radiated strong magical energy, high-quality materials likely sourced from the Forbidden Forest. Were these school property, or Hagrid's personal collection?
Ron and Hermione exchanged puzzled looks. The house looked dilapidated, almost DIY in style. Ron muttered, "I rarely see a house worse than The Burrow… but this takes the cake."
"The point isn't the craftsmanship—it's the materials," Hagrid explained proudly. "Unicorn hair! It's all over the carpet, even the dog bed. How many Unicorns have you caught?"
"No, these are hairs Unicorns shed willingly," Hagrid clarified.
Ron's eyes widened. "Then you really are rich!" He quickly sat down on the carpet, eager to enjoy the rare opportunity.
"Oh, I haven't introduced him yet. This is Ron." Harry gestured.
Hagrid, preoccupied with pouring water into a teapot and arranging rock cakes on a platter, barely looked up. "Another young Weasley, eh? I've spent half my life trying to get those twins out of the Forbidden Forest."
"This is Hermione, my friend," Harry added.
Hagrid gave a similarly brief greeting, then motioned them toward the cakes.
The rock cakes were hard enough to crack teeth. Hermione and Ron struggled, but Harry, undeterred, quickly ate their portions too. "Barely enough to fill a tooth gap," he muttered with a grin.
Hagrid gave a thumbs-up. "As expected of you." Then he pulled out a whole basket of rock cakes.
"By the way, Hagrid, do you know about Snape? Does he… have any unusual habits?" Harry asked cautiously, careful not to phrase it in a crude way. Wizards, even in modern Britain, were still rather traditional.
"What do you mean?" Hagrid asked bluntly.
Harry described Snape's behavior in class, how he seemed to single Harry out. Hagrid reassured him that Snape hardly liked anyone; perhaps Harry simply drew attention to himself by being flashy.
"But he really seems to… hate me," Harry insisted.
"Nonsense!" Hagrid replied, though his eyes darted away for a moment. Hagrid clearly knew more than he let on.
Harry pressed on. "It's just… has Snape ever had someone he liked?"
Hagrid hesitated. "Why are you asking who he likes… Oh, Harry, have you heard about Snape and your parents?"
Harry froze. "??"
Hagrid's expression conveyed surprise. Before Hagrid could explain further, Harry pieced it together. Hagrid had often remarked that Harry resembled his father. Connecting the dots, Harry realized… Snape and his father had a romantic entanglement.
So his father was bisexual, married his mother, and… cuckolded Snape? The thought was dizzying. Snape's lingering hatred toward Harry now made sense—it was a mixture of love, resentment, and defeat, twisted into a bitter cocktail of emotions. His old man had the audacity of a wild ruler, like Emperor Wu in his youth, yet Harry could barely comprehend the situation.
And Snape's intense gaze at him? A "stand-in" trope. A twisted love story spanning generations. Harry shuddered. He decided to keep his distance—his father's debts to Snape were not his to repay, no matter the circumstances. Even if Snape were a woman, it wouldn't change a thing.
"Let's not dwell on the past. How's your brother Charlie?" Hagrid quickly changed the subject, clearly relieved. "I like him. Very good with animals."
Ron spoke about Charlie's dragon research while Harry noticed a small paper tucked under the teapot cozy: a clipping from The Daily Prophet.
Gringotts Illegal Entry Latest Report
Investigations into the Gringotts robberies continue. Believed to involve an unnamed Dark Wizard, possibly a group operation. Upper-level vaults were accessed, but lower-level key vaults remained untouched. Losses were within a reasonable range. A Gringotts spokesperson stated: "What is stored in the key vaults is confidential. It is best not to interfere."
Harry recalled Ron mentioning a Gringotts break-in on the train. Something felt off. Why didn't the intruders steal anything? Perhaps the items had been removed beforehand… maybe by Hagrid himself.
"Hagrid!" Harry exclaimed. "Are you collecting Gringotts robbery clippings? Was your vault targeted? Or Hogwarts'? Or Dumbledore's?"
Hagrid's eyes twinkled with admiration. "Harry, you're as clever as Dumbledore. Nothing gets past you. I haven't said anything, but you've guessed everything—about your parents, about Dumbledore. I've been told not to talk about Dumbledore's belongings. So don't ask."
He offered Harry another rock cake to keep him occupied. Harry wisely didn't press further—he didn't want Hagrid spilling sordid details about Snape and his father just to silence him. The trio shifted the conversation back to dragons, enjoying the rest of their visit.
As they walked back to the castle, pockets full of rock cakes, Harry finally let go of the Snape mystery. Hagrid was clearly an insider, but some questions were better left unanswered.
Since his parents had wronged Snape, Harry resolved not to judge him for his behavior. Some debts of the heart could never be repaid, and some grudges could never be his to carry
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