Chapter 140: Again the Basilisk

After Dumbledore left the school, nothing in Hogwarts seemed to have changed; everyone continued with their daily classes and preparations for the upcoming exams.

Sirius had initially felt something was off, thinking the timing of that letter was too convenient, but soon he realized that Dumbledore's departure itself also carried an air of strangeness.

So after breakfast, Sirius put the matter out of his mind, pretending nothing had happened.

That evening, Sirius went to the Forbidden Forest to find Hagrid and told him Professor Kettleburn was retiring.

When he arrived, Hagrid was brushing off his mole-skin coat; the weather had grown warmer, and he no longer needed to wear it.

"Of course I know Professor Kettleburn—we often went to the Three Broomsticks for drinks, and he even gave me a very interesting book for Christmas."

Hagrid, brushing dust and pebbles off the coat with a clothes brush, said to Sirius: "Come to think of it, I even took his class."

He paused his motion, as if lost in memory.

"That was my first Care of Magical Creatures class. Professor Kettleburn told us the Hungarian Horntail had the strongest bite among dragons, but the Peruvian Vipertooth was the most dangerous."

"I loved his class—though not long after, I got expelled."

Hagrid paused again, resumed brushing the coat, and emptied the contents of his pockets onto the side.

"You… took his class?" Sirius asked in disbelief. "Has Professor Kettleburn been teaching at Hogwarts this long?"

Hagrid had been expelled fifty years ago—so he must have been at Hogwarts for at least fifty years, longer than Professor McGonagall's tenure.

"Probably," Hagrid said after careful thought.

"I remember someone mentioning over drinks that before Dumbledore became headmaster, Professor Kettleburn had been placed on probation sixty-two times for illegally keeping dangerous magical creatures—about twice a year on average."

Sirius didn't bother calculating the years; his attention was fixed on those sixty-two probationary notices.

Normally, a Hogwarts professor was dismissed after only three probationary notices… How exceptional must Professor Kettleburn's professional competence have been to remain at the school after sixty-two "reviews"?

And those sixty-two weren't even his limit—they were the limit of Headmaster Armando Dippet, who served exactly thirty-one years.

"To be honest, Professor Kettleburn really should retire…" Hagrid hung the coat on a hook above the roof. "Lately, every time I go drinking with him, he's missing another part—even his prosthetic limbs have been replaced several times."

"He can barely handle the little creatures in the Forbidden Forest anymore."

"I don't think those things in the Forbidden Forest are 'little creatures,'" Sirius muttered, then added: "Who do you think will replace Professor Kettleburn as the Care of Magical Creatures professor?"

"I don't know," Hagrid said. "Dumbledore will arrange someone."

"Has he come to you yet?"

"Why would Dumbledore come to me?" Hagrid turned, puzzled. "Has something happened in the castle?"

"No," Sirius shook his head. "I mean—don't you want to be the new Care of Magical Creatures professor?"

"!" A loud crash echoed from inside the hut; Hagrid's copper pot slipped from his hand, spilling water across the floor.

After several seconds, he hurriedly bent down to pick up the pot.

"Don't joke, Sirius—Dumbledore would never let me be a professor." He laughed, treating it as nonsense.

"So Headmaster Dumbledore really hasn't come to you?"

"Of course not," Hagrid said. "What's gotten into you today?"

"Nothing," Sirius said. "I just think you'd be perfect for the position."

"Thank you, Sirius," Hagrid handed him a rock cake. "That's the best compliment I've ever heard—but is it really wise for you to be here right now?"

"If I remember correctly, your exams are coming up soon."

"It's just second-year exams. Not important."

"No, Sirius, you're wrong about that," Hagrid said seriously. "Every exam matters—it affects your future career."

Though Sirius thought his future career likely had little to do with exam scores, he nodded anyway, seeing Hagrid's earnest expression.

"Alright, I'll study hard for the exams."

Hagrid was one of the few students ever expelled from Hogwarts, and that was why he took exams so seriously.

After chatting a while longer, Hagrid decided to escort Sirius back.

If they waited any later, curfew would begin, and returning then would risk being caught by Filch—a nuisance.

"I can go back on my own," Sirius said, watching Hagrid walk beside him. "It's such a short distance—do you think I'd get lost?"

"You won't get lost," Hagrid said, climbing the steps before the main doors with him. "But I'm heading to the castle too—let's go together."

"Why are you going to the castle?" Sirius asked curiously. "To see the headmaster?"

"Yes," Hagrid said. "This noon, one of my roosters went missing—probably taken by a bloodsucker. I need the headmaster's permission to cast a charm around the coop."

"What…?" Sirius froze at the entrance to the Great Hall. "Someone killed your rooster?"

"Taken—not killed," Hagrid said. He thought Sirius's reaction was excessive; losing a rooster near the Forbidden Forest was normal, and easily fixed with a simple spell.

Mistaking Sirius's fear for dread of the bloodsucker, he explained: "Don't worry—it's not a vampire. It's just a kind of XXX magical creature that only steals poultry and small livestock. It won't enter the castle."

"No, Hagrid, I—"

Before Sirius could finish, a violent crashing sound cut him off.

The noise seemed to come from within the castle walls, accompanied by intermittent screams.

Screams…

Instinctively, Sirius drew his wand, flicked his wrist—and a spellbook instantly appeared on his shoulder.

Beside him, Hagrid pulled a heavy, substantial club from his pocket.

"What's happening?" Hagrid asked, alarmed. The walls throbbed with booming impacts, dust swirled, and the entire castle seemed to shake.

"I don't know," Sirius said, though a hunch stirred in his mind.

Not Harry and the others…

The thought had barely formed when two figures sprinted toward him.

It was night, and they were far off—he couldn't make out their faces, only that one had black hair, the other long hair.

Not… no, it really was Harry and Hermione.

But why were they running through the entrance hall at this hour, instead of playing their game?

At the same time, Harry and Hermione also saw Silven and Hagrid ahead and ran toward them with everything they had.

"Run…" Harry shouted at the top of his voice. "Quick, go find the Headmaster and McGonagall…"

"Boom!"

His words were drowned out by a roar, and this time the crash was louder than any before; the tremendous force brought a section of the entrance hall's side wall crashing down.

Then, a great snake as thick as an oak trunk burst out from the collapsed wall.

Hagrid immediately shielded the three of them behind him, but the moment he looked up, he met a pair of cold, yellow eyes.

Hagrid felt his whole body go rigid, as though someone had doused him with a great bucket of cold water, and he could not help a shudder.

Fortunately, at that moment a warm current surged up from the palm of his right hand, as though someone had wrapped him in a thick coat, and the icy feeling from before faded with it.

"What is that thing!" Hagrid stared at the fifty-foot-long snake before him and felt his head spin.

Is there a magical creature of the serpent kind that can grow this large?

A Runespoor should be able to grow this big, but it doesn't have three heads either.

"How are you… not dead!"

At that moment the Basilisk suddenly spoke — and in Tom Riddle's voice.

That snapped Hagrid back to his senses at once; a fifty-foot-long, talking snake was clearly not a normal occurrence.

"Who are you?" His expression grew graver by degrees. "No — wait, I think I've heard your voice before!"

"Ah, Rubeus Hagrid…" the Basilisk spoke again. "A filthy, low-born half-blood giant — no wonder you survived looking a Basilisk in the eye."

"Who are you… you're… no, that's not right, it's been fifty years, you can't be him."

"He's Tom Riddle!" Harry, too, came back to himself at the fact that Hagrid was still alive, and shouted, "He's the one who opened the Chamber, and this snake is the monster inside it."

"No, no, no — it should be you who opened the Chamber." The Basilisk coiled itself up and looked down at them from on high.

"I really should thank you, you actually helped me after all…" The Basilisk's voice cut off abruptly, for at that moment it had just caught sight of another person behind Hagrid.

"Silven Ollivander!"

The venomous voice seemed steeped in a bone-deep hatred; merely hearing it made one's hair stand on end.

"Kill — kill you!"

Without the slightest hesitation, the Basilisk shot forward, opening its jaws to reveal two rows of fangs as sharp as cavalry sabers.

"Run!" Hagrid roared, then spun around and swung his club with all his might.

The Basilisk's eyes were only on Silven, who had turned and fled; it paid no heed to Hagrid's blow and even tried to bowl him over.

After all, before the Basilisk, even Hagrid looked especially small.

But the Basilisk was clearly not the first to think that way, and so — after the three-headed dog — it too learned what a half-blood giant's strength truly meant.

When Hagrid's club came down, the Basilisk's head was instantly knocked askew beyond its control and slammed heavily into the wall beside them.

Several fangs, still trailing flesh and blood, were sent flying and thudded into a portrait with a soft "pfft."

……

(End of chapter)