chsdbacks Chapter 94 Rebuke Hagrid for the Answer
Chapter 94 Rebuke Hagrid for the Answer
Chapter 95 Rebuke Hagrid for the Answer
Picking up where we left off, Hagrid, upon hearing Harry's rebellious words, felt as if he had just knocked over an armory, and hurriedly tried to dissuade him.
Harry was truly annoyed and frustrated to see that his father had been wrongly accused and that the clerk had clearly recorded his crimes in his file, almost to the point of tattooing a gold seal on his dough, yet he was still speaking up for the Ministry of Magic.
He slammed his fist on the table and exclaimed, "Brother, why are you acting so petty again? Can't you even grasp the underlying principles? You think you can just swallow your anger and avoid trouble, but those scoundrels in the Ministry of Magic won't let you get away with this!"
Hagrid overheard this and exclaimed in surprise, "Oh, Harry, that matter from fifty years ago is long gone—I've been the Guardian of the Forbidden Forest for decades, and the Ministry of Magic has never bothered me."
Harry was enraged by his weak words, and his anger flared up.
"Damn it! My brother's just like that instructor of the 800,000 Imperial Guards! He keeps backing down and begging for peace unless the knife is pointed at his heart, the fire is burning his trousers, or the wicked scheme is whispered in his ear!"
"Harry, the idea of overthrowing the Ministry of Magic... isn't that a bit too radical? I think it's more realistic to help Hagrid appeal."
Ron pondered, "The Basilisk and the Eight-Eyed Spider kill in very different ways, and Hagrid doesn't speak Parsley, so how could he have opened the secret chamber?"
"As long as we explain things to the Ministry of Magic, we can clear Hagrid's name of murder."
Harry shook his head repeatedly. "Oh dear! How can my brother and his siblings talk like three-year-olds?"
"That birdman from the Ministry of Magic has already proven my brother's guilt in murder. Now that the Chamber of Secrets is open again, if another student dies and we still can't find the murderer, you tell me, who will take the blame!"
When Hagrid heard Harry explain the key point, his face turned pale, and his disheveled beard and hair trembled like a tumbleweed.
Hermione's heart skipped a beat, and she exclaimed in surprise, "So, if we can't find the murderer, the Ministry of Magic will arrest Hagrid?"
Harry sneered, "So what if we catch the real culprit? Those birdmen at the Ministry of Magic will be too proud to let Hagrid go, they'll want to protect their own reputations."
These words were spoken with absolute certainty, and Hagrid felt a chill run down his spine, cold sweat break out on his forehead, and his whole body felt cold.
How did this casual chat escalate into a conversation that led us to Azkaban?
He opened his mouth, wanting to refute, but after thinking for a long time, he couldn't utter a single word.
It seems...it appears...that's definitely true...
Seeing Hagrid's hesitant expression, Harry glared with his bright blue tiger eyes, cupped his hands, and shouted, "Brother, there's no need to hesitate! How about we set off tonight and storm the Ministry of Magic?"
"I have a great reputation for being extravagant. If I come up with a convincing excuse, the Minister of Magic will surely have to see me."
"When we were alone, I only said I wanted to invite him to examine the precious sword. The scoundrel peeked out, and I chopped his head off with one stroke. Brother, then call a few trusted heroes to help from within..."
Seeing Harry's words becoming increasingly outrageous, not only was Hagrid terrified, but Ron and Hermione were also shaken to their core.
You should know that the last person to overthrow the Ministry of Magic was Vader, and he did the same thing Harry said: kill the Minister of Magic first!
After Harry finished explaining his plan to raid the Ministry of Magic that night, Hagrid was completely dumbfounded, standing there like a statue. His tongue was tied in knots, his teeth were trembling, and he couldn't utter a single word.
He hesitated for a long time before muttering, "Oh, never mind, Harry, this is trouble I caused by raising the giant spider myself."
"Besides... and attacking the Ministry of Magic or something, that's a bit too scary. I don't want you to be wanted by the International Wizarding Federation for life because of me..."
Hagrid kept rambling on with platitudes, still unwilling to save himself despite the sword of Damocles hanging over his head. Harry could talk himself hoarse, but it was no use. He could only say resentfully:
"Enough! Enough! I guess I was just being presumptuous!"
Hagrid knew that Harry's words were heartfelt, and even though he found them to be barbed, how could he dare to refute them?
His head, as big as a bamboo basket, hung low, and his hands, as large as palm-leaf fans, clenched tightly, as if he were a silent gourd.
The fire in the stove crackled and blazed brightly inside, but it couldn't warm the people at the dining table. Even Ya Ya, who was dozing under the table, tucked his tail between his legs and dared not snore.
Just as everything was quiet, they suddenly heard a "clang". They turned around and saw that Ron had accidentally knocked over his wine glass.
"Ron, are you drunk?" Hermione patted him on the shoulder. "Is your alcohol tolerance that low?"
"Cough, I just didn't notice." Ron stood up and refilled everyone's glasses, laughing, "Harry, Hagrid, let's keep drinking."
It was just as the Scarface was eager to help others, and Hagrid was filled with fear; good words couldn't persuade the scapegoat, who remained sullen. The fire in the hearth was cold and lonely, and Ron knocked over a wine glass; breaking the silence with a new cup of wine, laughter filled the room.
Without further ado, Harry and his two companions devoured their meal in a whirlwind. The scene was one of utter disarray, with dishes and bones piled high – a testament to the aftermath of a grand feast.
Now that they had eaten and drunk their fill, the three of them got up to say goodbye.
Upon exiting the house, the bucket beneath Nobeta's legs was filled with dragon blood, weighing approximately several tens of kilograms.
Hermione took her wand and melted the snow to clear a path, Ron picked up his bucket and followed closely behind, while Harry stood at the door and chatted with Hagrid for a while longer.
Listen, dear reader: Although this Scarface was disappointed in Hagrid, how could he bear to see him suffer the same fate as the snail? He had some golden words of advice to say in his heart.
The two men stood hand in hand, and Harry said, "Everyone has their own ambitions. If you want to be a good man, I have no idea what to say."
"But if that bunch of bastards from the Ministry of Magic really come to capture us, have you thought about how to deal with it, brother?"
Hagrid, unwilling to show weakness in front of Harry and also fueled by his own pride, immediately shouted, "If they dare to come, I'll fight them to the death!"
Harry laughed and said, "Brother, don't say such unlucky things. It's almost Christmas, and it wouldn't be appropriate for Santa Claus to hear it."
After saying that, he leaned down and whispered in Hagrid's ear, "Brother, remember this: if the Ministry of Magic really wants to arrest someone, find Professor Dumbledore and tell him 'Never forget your oath.' That way you can avoid imprisonment and save your life."
Upon hearing that there was a way to save his life, Hagrid was suddenly overjoyed. But just as this joy welled up, another worry arose.
Why would I be happy?
Thinking about this, Hagrid felt as if a soy sauce shop had been overturned in his chest, a mix of sour, salty, bitter, and spicy emotions surging up all at once, leaving him momentarily stunned.
When Harry saw that he didn't respond, he crossed his arms, sang a rude greeting, and said "Shut up!" before heading straight for the castle with Ron and Hermione.
The disheveled man stood frozen at the doorway, letting the frost and snow assault his face until his hair and beard turned completely white, yet he remained motionless.
Upon seeing Hagrid's appearance, Norbert tilted his large head to the side, and his copper-bell eyes revealed a hint of doubt.
Just as he was about to peek out, Hagrid suddenly attacked, his fist, as big as a large bowl, smashing into the pine wood wall.
A deafening roar, like the collapse of the heavens and the splitting of the earth, shook the wooden house violently, causing snow to cascade down the eaves like a waterfall. The echo reverberated even within the forbidden forest, startling countless birds that fluttered and obscured half the sky.
The punch shattered the pine wood, leaving a dent the size of a bowl.
Hagrid's hands were covered in splinters and blood, but he didn't care. He stumbled into the house, utterly distraught.
"coward."
As Harry and his two companions were walking along, they heard the sound and turned to look, only to see birds scattering in all directions.
Ron put down the bucket, raised his eyebrows, and looked into the distance, saying, "What's that noise? It sounds like thunder."
Hermione frowned and said, "That sound is coming from... Hagrid's direction? Could something have happened to him?"
Harry heard the thunderous sound, but shook his head and laughed, "Don't be alarmed, elder sister. It must be that brother is relieving his pent-up desire."
"He's got quite a temper," Ron clicked his tongue. "Come to think of it, I've never seen Hagrid angry before."
"Brothers, you must know that if you remain silent, you will be a force to be reckoned with; but when you do speak, you will amaze everyone."
The group chattered on and on until they returned to the Gryffindor common room. Now that there were only three of them in the entire house, there was no need to hide anything.
Harry took Salazar's drawing paper and laid it on the table. Ron waved his wand, and the dragon blood in the bucket floated onto the drawing paper.
The dragon's blood stained the paper, but it seemed to have stumbled into a bottomless pit, seeping in endlessly without spilling a drop.
Salazar smelled the blood and immediately woke up. He picked up a few flowers and plants outlined in ink from his side, kneaded them in his hand, and shaped them into a wine cup. He then caught the dragon's blood and savored it carefully.
"A female dragon that hasn't reached adulthood yet; her blood is very pure."
"No wonder he's the founder of Slytherin," Hermione said, pursing her lips. "He even drinks the purest dragon blood."
Ron wanted to agree, but fearing that Sarah would see through him, he secretly gave her a wink.
"Who are you flirting with, Little Redhead? Is that Muggle wizard talking bad about me?"
Upon hearing this, Ron felt a jolt of fear and shook his head vigorously, "No, I just have a little dry eyes."
Salazar remained impassive, took another bite of dragon blood, and said, "Do you think my eyes have never been dry?"
"Next time, remember to greet me with your foot. I'm on the table, I can't see your lower body."
Realizing his thoughts had been exposed, Ron's face flushed red, and he kept his eyes down, not daring to look up again.
In no time, the bucket of dragon blood was finished, and the five colors on the drawing paper became much more vibrant.
Salazar then disassembled the wine glass into threads, wove them into a tissue, wiped his mouth, and said, "Little Redhead, you and that Muggle wizard can leave now."
Ron paused, stunned. "Go? Where are we going?"
"As long as they can't hear what Harry and I are saying, it's a deal between the two of us."
Upon hearing this, Ron reluctantly got up, muttering to himself, and went straight out of the lounge.
Hermione knew that Nasara couldn't see her, so she quickly retreated a few steps and watched from a distance, but she didn't actually leave.
Unexpectedly, Salazar, though only on paper, seemed to have eyes everywhere, and suddenly spoke up: "Why aren't you leaving, Muggle wizard?"
Hermione was startled, and Harry asked in surprise, "How did my brother know that my older sister hadn't left?"
"Because the equilibrium principle has been disrupted."
Salazar calmly stated, "This deal is limited to the two of us, but there is a third person present."
Hermione pondered these words carefully, and then suddenly felt a jolt of surprise.
Did he discover that I hadn't left through this so-called law of equilibrium?
So this isn't some medieval wizarding convention, but rather some kind of contract magic?
No, Harry never said he and Salazar made any kind of magical contract—meaning this law of equilibrium is a kind of law?
Hermione memorized the word, gave Harry a few words of advice, and then headed out of the common room.
After the two left, Salazar picked up a flower outlined in ink from beside him, twisted the end of the thread, and pulled it into a line.
"You can think of this line as the value of that bucket of dragon's blood. When the line disappears, our deal is over."
Salazar shrugged and said, "Go ahead, Harry, I'll give you a value-balanced answer."
Harry pondered for a while before speaking, "If we're talking about someone I think about day and night, there's only one."
"Does brother know how to return to that place?"
It should be known that Harry is a man of great loyalty and affection. Although he and Wu Erlang were not born of the same mother, their bond was stronger than that of blood relatives. This kind of affection was three times heavier than any innate blood relation.
If such an opportunity were truly presented before me, nothing could stop me, not even mountains of knives or seas of fire.
Salazar listened and nodded. "I know a little."
Upon hearing this, the lines on the drawing paper instantly shrank by more than half.
Harry was startled and thought to himself: This business of traveling between the past and present is truly extraordinary. I only asked if it was possible, and it was worth more than half a bucket of dragon blood.
He then asked, "If I want you to tell me everything you know, what price must I pay you?"
"Ah, even if you killed all the dragons in the world, it still wouldn't be enough to answer this question."
Salazar glanced at the line and said, "I think you can ask one more question."
Harry paced back and forth, a thousand thoughts swirling in his mind. After a moment, he focused his gaze and asked, "Brother, you've waited for me for thousands of years. What brings you here?"
"Because of one sentence."
As soon as he finished speaking, the lines on the drawing paper disappeared.
Salazar nodded and said, "Very well, our deal is done."
Harry's eyes widened. "Damn it! I gave him a bucket of fine dragon blood, and all I got in return were these few words?!"
"Dragon blood isn't valuable; killing just one dragon will give you enough for years," Salazar said, continuing to weave the ink thread into a flower. "Besides, your problems aren't cheap."
Harry thought to himself: Now that I have confirmed that traveling between the ancient and modern worlds is indeed possible, it's not a loss.
He pulled up a chair, sat down with an air of superiority, and said, "If I were to come back with my brother to ask him some more questions, what price would it cost?"
"Then you might be disappointed, Harry, I don't want anything."
Listen, my lord: Salazar is now nothing more than a blank canvas. Those gold and silver treasures are useless to him; what mysterious magic is he not familiar with; as for memories and emotions, he has long been tired of them with the mind-controlling technique.
Now that he has obtained the dragon's blood to continue his life, he is like an old monk who has transcended the three realms, all his emotions and desires turning into a few wisps of smoke.
Harry, however, was a skeptic, and chuckled, "Brother, you meditate in this painting, listening to the affairs of the world, yet your feet have been stuck in this Slytherin common room for centuries. Surely you have some lingering thoughts?"
Upon hearing his question, Salazar suddenly clapped his hands. "Ah, I actually do have one. Your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, right? Lockhart, isn't he?"
(End of this chapter)