Chapter 35: Snape, This Wastrel

After leaving the castle, the sky was already pitch black; when Silven quickened his pace and neared the Forbidden Forest, he saw Hagrid standing far off, gesturing wildly toward the forest.

"Go away, you nasty thing, go away!"

He seemed to be shooing away some creature.

"Hagrid." Silven walked over and greeted him.

"Silven?" Hagrid turned his head, surprised. "You shouldn't be leaving the castle this late—go back right away."

"I came here specifically to find you," Silven said.

"Find me?"

"Professor Snape wants you to go to his office," Silven said. "Do you have time now?"

"Ah, of course—I've been waiting a while," Hagrid said, showing no surprise at all, as if he'd expected this visit all along.

"Wait here for a moment—we'll head back together," Hagrid told Silven, then went inside to put on his mole-skin coat.

"I thought Snape would send Filch, that old glutton, to fetch me—why'd you come?" came a voice from inside the hut.

"Maybe I just happened to be in his office," Silven said. "What were you doing just now?"

"Chasing away a cat," Hagrid said, stepping out and taking down the oil lamp by the door. "We ran into it in the Forbidden Forest—Fang just barked at it and got scratched; then the thing chased us out and nearly bit off Fang's ear."

As if sensing Hagrid was leaving, a sudden flurry of whimpers and scratching against the floor erupted from inside the hut.

Through the door crack, Silven could barely make out a large black dog—perhaps a Newfoundland, or maybe a Neapolitan Mastiff—but it was too dim to tell clearly.

"Don't be fooled by its looks—it's a coward… Calm down, Fang, calm down, I'll be right back," Hagrid soothed for a long while before finally managing to shut the door.

He checked again meticulously, ensuring not a single gap remained, then descended the stone steps and walked back to the castle with Silven.

Silven's expression was odd now, his gaze darting, avoiding Hagrid's eyes entirely.

Come to think of it, he hadn't seen his own pet Tom in quite some time—and that familiar, vengeful streak, the kind that scared Fang into refusing to leave the hut—could it really be… no, it couldn't possibly be Tom.

Silven shook his head.

No matter how timid Fang was, his size alone made it impossible—Tom couldn't even reach up to Fang's leg when standing, how could he have scared him into hiding?

Impossible. The thing chasing Fang had to be a kneazle living in the Forbidden Forest.

Feeling guilty, Silven quickly changed the subject as Hagrid continued ranting about the attacker:

"Hagrid, what does Professor Snape want with you? Why so late? Couldn't it wait until morning?"

"That nasty cat… Oh, Professor Snape said the same thing—but I thought students might see it in the morning, so this time is perfect," Hagrid blurted out.

But Silven's interruption made Hagrid forget the cat entirely; he unconsciously pulled back his mole-skin coat and gestured.

"The bone's too long to hide completely, but breaking it feels like a waste."

Listening to Hagrid's muttering, Silven frowned slightly, sinking into thought.

Bone?

The one behind the desk?

But why would Snape's office have a bone—and that wooden stick behind the door…

At this thought, Silven halted. He felt he'd found the truth.

It was the giant that Quirrell had brought into the castle on Halloween—later locked away in the chamber with Fluffy!

The clumsy giant had stumbled right into the enraged, injured three-headed dog—its fate was obvious: likely turned into a snack.

So what became of the giant's remains? Such magical creatures were valuable; the school wouldn't just throw them away, nor return them to Quirrell.

The answer was clear… Snape had taken them.

Now he recalled—Snape's office had always been filled with bizarre potion ingredients, all of them parts of the giant.

The giant's bones, too hard to cut or grind, were useless for potions, so they were handed off to Hagrid to deal with.

Silven's eyes grew brighter.

If this was true, everything made sense now… why Snape's office had the giant's wooden stick, why Hagrid had to come at night.

After all, carrying around a pile of bones during daylight was too horrifying—students seeing it would cause trouble.

Silven immediately looked up and spoke: "Hagrid…"

"What is it?" Hagrid asked.

"N-nothing," Silven paused, then shook his head. "I mean—we've arrived."

The two had climbed the stone steps and entered the castle.

"Then go back to your dormitory," Hagrid said without further thought, then headed down the stairs toward the dungeons.

But Silven did not return to his dorm. He stopped where he was.

November nights were still cold—even the candles burning along the entrance hall walls seemed to have lost their warmth.

Silven encountered Filch. Though Filch disapproved of students wandering the castle at night, curfew hadn't yet begun, so he could do nothing but glare venomously from the side.

Silven suddenly missed Tom—he wondered where that unruly cat had gone off to again. Next time, he'd make sure Tom had a proper chat with Mrs. Norris.

They stood facing off for several minutes before Hagrid finally emerged from the stairs.

He carried a massive sack, one hand holding the large wooden stick, the other holding something else—covered by a large bedsheet, its shape hidden.

"Silven, why are you still here?" Hagrid walked over and spotted Filch in the corner.

Hagrid had no patience for him.

"Go away—Silven hasn't broken any rules," he snapped, as if shooing away vermin.

"I'll be watching you," he growled, then cursed under his breath and left.

"Don't worry—that glutton won't dare touch you," Hagrid said.

Silven waved him off, unbothered—his eyes remained fixed on Hagrid's hands.

"Hagrid… are those the giant's bones you're carrying?"

"Yes…" Hagrid began, then immediately clamped his mouth shut.

"How do you know... no, what I mean is, this isn't your business—go back to your dormitory right now."

Silven obviously wasn't leaving; he hadn't waited here just to hear Hagrid curse Filch.

"Where are you taking them?"

"I can't tell you... alright, I have to get rid of them—stop asking." Hagrid scowled and turned to walk out of the castle.

As he turned, the wind blew open the sheet in his hand, revealing a length of pale, gleaming bone beneath.

From the length of the sheet, the bone was nearly five feet long, resembling a thick, slithering serpent under the moonlight.

In that instant, Silven's eyes lit up, like two searchlights against the dark sky, and saliva seemed to drip from his lips.

Good stuff, good stuff!

That wasteful fool Snape, that idiot who plays with cauldrons—he actually wants to throw away something like this?

Mmm...

(End of Chapter)