"Lupin!" Hagrid's eyes lit up with genuine interest. "How be 'ee farin' these days?"
"Currently, I'm staying at No. 11 Grimmauld Place. You're welcome to drop by anytime," Anton extended the invitation, a sense of fondness coloring his words.
Remembering something important, Anton rummaged through his messenger bag, locating a business card before handing it over to Hagrid with a gesture of hospitality.
The small card seemed almost miniature in comparison to Hagrid's massive fingers, yet the joy reflected in his expression was unmistakable.
"Lupin and Lisa's Information Consultin' Company?" Hagrid blinked in mild confusion. "That be an interestin' choice of name."
Gently securing the business card in the inner pocket of his coat, Hagrid offered a hearty pat on Anton's shoulder, his expression beaming with genuine warmth. "When 'ee sold that brain to Professor Snape, I weren't sure 'bout 'ee. I reckoned 'ee might be an evil dark wizard. But now, seein' 'ee with Lupin, I reckon 'ee be a good person."
"Uncle Lupin is really a goodhearted man," Anton affirmed, his voice filled with admiration and affection for Lupin.
Hagrid seemed pleased with Anton's words, nodding in approval. "Ye 'ave no classes on Friday afternoons. If 'ee fancy, feel free to drop by my 'ut near the Forbidden Forest."
With enthusiasm lighting up his eyes, Hagrid shifted his attention to the bird perched on the wall shelf, sharing his fascination. "See that bird o'er yonder? 'Tisn't the finest sight, but 'tis a Fwooper Diricawl hybrid, it be." he explained with a hint of pride in his voice.
Well, Hagrid's unique standards of beauty often differed from that of regular wizards, adding to his charm and distinct character.
"This 'ybrid comes from t' African Wizardin' Market; a blend o' Diricawl and Fwooper species," Hagrid relayed with a touch of awe in his voice, explaining the unique origins of the creature before them. "it shows off amazin' traits an' sports a colorful plumage o' fluffy feathers."
"Huh?" Anton was left with a whirlwind of questions swirling in his mind, his curiosity piqued by the enigmatic nature of the exotic creature.
Crossbreeding in the wizarding world was already astounding, but could different species truly interbreed? Recalling Hagrid's miraculous cultivation of the Blast-Ended Skrewt from a XXXXX magical creature—a Manticore and Fire-crab—prompted Anton to ponder the implications. The XXXXX rating denoted a level of danger surpassing that of Dumbledore's Phoenix Fawkes, rated XXXX.
Notable examples of crossbreeds included the Gryffin and the common horse, capable of producing a XXX Dangerous Hippogriff.
Hagrid's unconventional breeding methods, while peculiar, proved invaluable within the Harry Potter universe.
"Dumbledore should really be in charge o' researchin' fire dragons. 'Ee knows twelve ways to use fire dragon blood." Hagrid pondered, peering at the small creatures before turning to Anton with a somber expression.
"Unfort'nately, 'ee be proper busy right now—not only at 'Ogwarts but also doin' other important wizard stuff like bein' the Supreme Mugwump o' the International Confederation o' Wizards an' the Chief Warlock o' the Wizengamot." he explained, a sense of respect and admiration underlying his words.
"Or else, 'tis Snape as'd 'ave to do the job." he added, acknowledging the chain of command and the necessity of delegating in Dumbledore's stead.
As the saying goes, speaking ill of others behind their back often leads to an awkward realization when they catch you in the act.
Hagrid's keen eyes caught sight of Snape's presence at the door, prompting a stiff and slow turn of his body as he adjusted his words carefully, "Oh, I meant Snape. He's proper good at potions, and he's lookin' after the beastie I needed yer help with for the research..."
Snape's deadpan expression bore down on Hagrid, causing the jovial half-giant to falter briefly in his speech, a hint of tension arising in the room.
Redirecting his attention to Anton, Snape's cold gaze bore into the young wizard as he questioned bluntly, "Why are you still here?"
Innocently blinking in response, Anton offered a simple explanation, "I thought you rushed off to the bathroom and would be back soon."
A faint chuckle escaped Hagrid's lips, swiftly composing himself upon seeing Snape's stern face.
"Is that so?" Slowly approaching, Snape placed a firm hand on the young wizard's shoulder, guiding his gaze towards the plump bird with a calculated intensity.
"In that case, stay and assist me." Snape instructed, his voice maintaining its characteristic stoicism as he outlined the task at hand.
"Get it's blood. There's only a pint in this one. Be careful not to spill a drop on me." Snape directed with a commanding tone, highlighting the precision and care required for the delicate procedure.
"Professor Snape!" Hagrid's voice rang out in protest, his tone laden with disbelief and dismay. "Why would 'ee make a student do somethin' so cruel!"
Turning to the bird with a tender expression, Hagrid sought understanding, "Why'd 'ee even think about hurtin' it?"
In silent agreement, Anton nodded as he observed Hagrid's compassionate stance, recognizing the importance of empathy and understanding in their interactions with magical creatures. Hagrid's refusal to inflict harm reflected a deep-rooted care for all creatures.
Snape's smirk lingered as he reassuringly patted Anton's shoulder, his touch a mix of approval and challenge. "This student wants to learn Potions from me. Getting blood from magical creatures is a delicate skill, much more complicated than just making a cut." he explained, emphasizing the complexity and precision demanded by such a task.
"Anton, would you like to learn?" Snape posed the question, his tone inscrutable, awaiting the young wizard's response.
Filled with eagerness and a thirst for knowledge, Anton's eyes shone with excitement as he eagerly accepted the offer, nodding fervently. "I am more than ready to learn," he expressed wholeheartedly, his determination evident in his gleaming gaze.
Unable to contain his distress, Hagrid stood tall, his voice firm as he addressed Snape with a resolute tone. "Yer cain't 'ave first-year students do that kinda thing. Makin' 'em take blood like that can reelly mess 'em up mentally. What yer doin' is just plain cruel." Hagrid rebuked with a tone laced with disappointment and concern.
"Cruel?" Snape scoffed dismissively, his retort sharp and unyielding. "I find the forced hybridization of two distinct species far worse than taking their blood."
Dismissing Hagrid's shocked expression, Snape continued with a cutting remark, "It looks like some people are too affected by their family history, messing up their sense of right and wrong."
Enraged by Snape's harsh words, Hagrid roared and lunged, delivering a powerful punch to Snape's head—a fist the size of a basin, or rather, akin to a tire in magnitude.
Anton witnessed the intense confrontation unfold. Hagrid's fist, larger than Snape's head, brimmed with animosity, igniting a heated altercation.
Ultimately, Snape's impromptu private lesson on bloodletting from the textbook ended in failure.
Anton observed the wizarding duel with keen interest.
Initially, the duel proceeded in turns, with Snape demonstrating spellcasting prowess even without a wand. However, the efficacy of wandless magic was limited, particularly against Hagrid's half-giant build, naturally resistant to magic.
Snape's once imposing stature was dwarfed by Hagrid, resembling a frail bat in comparison.
Beneath the overwhelming force of Hagrid's fists, Snape found himself pinned down, subjected to a relentless onslaught of blows.
"You bleddy awful person! 'Ow dare 'ee insult my background!" Hagrid's voice thundered with raw fury, the pain of Snape's disparaging remarks about his family striking a deep chord within him. The giant's blood ran thick in his veins, fueling his righteous anger.
Hagrid harbored a deep dislike for Snape, particularly stemming from their shared history battling against Voldemort. Enduring Voldemort's top Death Eater within the school was a test of patience.
Pointing a accusatory finger at Snape, Hagrid's voice quivered with intensity. "The real evil be 'ee!"
An onslaught of magic spells struck the giant, yet proved futile against his resilient skin.
Snape's most effective means of subduing Hagrid lay in shaving his head or beard, unless he resorted to lethal force.
The altercation culminated in Snape being dragged across the ground by Hagrid, friction causing a cacophony.
In an effort to prevent future animosity towards Snape, Anton, a Slytherin student, tugged at Hagrid's massive coat with all his might.
Though futile, the gesture aimed to convey a message.
"Please stop!"
"Stop fighting!"
"You'll kill him like this!"
Regrettably, the young wizard's physical strength proved insufficient to intervene effectively.
Anton's cries and shouts not only proved ineffective but also drew a crowd of students to the door to witness the commotion.
The situation persisted until other professors arrived.
Dumbledore's crescent-shaped glasses betrayed no emotion.
McGonagall's gaze bore a weighty sternness as she addressed the tumultuous scene unfolding before her. "Unbelievable, Snape and Hagrid. Fighting in front of the students, you both are acting like children!" she reprimanded, her disappointment palpable in the air.