Chapter 201
Chapter 201
“Why haven’t you been putting your hand up in class lately? Save Gryffindor, Hermione. You’re our only hope,” Harry said over dinner one evening in October.
“Have the recent questions finally stumped our resident know-it-all? Now that’s a rare sight.” Ron chuckled beside him.
Hermione first shook her head at Harry, then gave Ron a flat, expressionless look.
“She says, ‘What’s it to you?'” Suer cheerfully translated everything contained in that one glance.
Hermione gave him an approving look.
Ron and Hermione had been at each other’s throats over Crookshanks recently. Crookshanks had once slipped into the boys’ dormitory while Harry and Ron were away, and if Neville had not happened upon the scene, Scabbers might already have met a grisly end in the cat’s jaws.
For the sake of Scabbers’s life, Ron now had no choice but to carry the rat everywhere.
Hermione, meanwhile, had barely been eating because she was afraid of swallowing or dropping the Mandrake leaf. There was only half a month left. If anything went wrong, she would have to start all over again.
She hurried away after eating only half her fill. She needed to use the time to finish the homework for her elective classes.
“Suer, I remember you saying there was a way to make Scabbers better?” Once Hermione had gone, Ron carefully drew Scabbers from his pocket.
“Rat Tonic hasn’t helped at all.”
Good grief. Suer had not seen Scabbers for a while, and the rat had somehow deteriorated to this state. It seemed the recent torment had taken quite a toll.
The once plump body had grown visibly thinner. The formerly sleek coat was now dull, with patches of bare skin showing through, and half the tail was gone.
If not for the missing half of the little toe on one forepaw, Suer would hardly have recognised this as Peter Pettigrew, who had spent so many comfortable years in the Weasley household.
Honestly, how deep a shadow had Black cast over him?
“Look at this tail. I bet the cat bit it off, but Hermione still won’t admit it.” Ron stroked what remained of Scabbers’s tail, eyes glistening with aggrieved sympathy.
Suer clicked his tongue. He suddenly very much wanted to see Ron’s face if the boy discovered that Scabbers was actually a greasy middle-aged man.
Watching Ron fondle the fellow’s backside was a sight no one should have to endure…
“I do have a way. Hmm…” Suer hesitated. “If you trust me, bring Scabbers to me on Saturday morning. You can watch while I administer the treatment.”
“Will it work?” Ron asked hopefully.
Suer considered the question. The facts and figures from a book he had read in his previous life–How to Fatten a Pig Scientifically–came to mind, and he nodded with confidence.
“If everything goes smoothly, it certainly will.”
“What a shame. I’ve got training all day Saturday, or I’d like to see how you do it too,” Harry said.
Seeing Suer’s confidence, Ron wavered for a long while before finally nodding hard. “I haven’t got any other ideas. I’ll leave Scabbers to you, then.”
After spending the entire day in fear, Scabbers suddenly felt a chill in the middle of sleep, as though something precious was about to be taken away. The rat jolted awake and stared around suspiciously, only to find three enormous faces looming overhead.
Ah. Still in the Great Hall. Nothing to worry about, then.
Hagrid’s confidence had plummeted after the hippogriff attacked Malfoy. He began doubting his ability to teach, and for two lessons in a row he had simply shown them how to raise a properly fed Flobberworm.
These worms did not even merit a one-star rating and were probably the dullest creatures in the world.
Suer decided Hagrid needed a rousing talk before the next lesson began.
“I don’t know what you’re so worried about, Hagrid.” Before that week’s Care of Magical Creatures lesson, Suer found the new professor watering the field behind his hut.
“We’ve fed Flobberworms twice in a row. I’ve heard a lot of people complaining.”
“I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you, Suer.” Hagrid straightened, apology in his voice. “I just don’t want another accident like the one with Buckbeak.”
“Oh, this isn’t like you, Hagrid.” Suer shook his head, rubbed Fang’s great head and tossed a strip of dried meat into the distance.
“Hardly anyone in this castle knows more about magical creatures than you do. I’m sure that’s why Professor Dumbledore was willing to give you the post.”
“But what are you doing now? Phoning it in? Perhaps I don’t have the right to criticise you, Hagrid, but as a student, I want a class I care about to show me creatures I’ve only ever seen in books.”
“What’s ‘phoning it in’?” Hagrid asked, intrigued by Suer’s unfamiliar expression.
“That isn’t important. What matters is this: do you mean to spend the entire term teaching us how to make a Flobberworm nice and fat?” Suer shook his head.
“You’re letting Dumbledore down, and you’re wearing away our enthusiasm.”
Hagrid threw the dipper into his bucket, looking dispirited. “I really don’t want anything like that to happen again. I’m frightened, Suer.”
“Look, Hagrid.” Suer pointed towards the Forbidden Forest nearby. “Are you saying a forest that large doesn’t contain a single creature that’s both safe and interesting?”
“We take Care of Magical Creatures so that we can learn about more magical creatures. Every young wizard who chose this class did so with enthusiasm and high hopes.”
“Mr Scamander is an old man now, yet he still explores jungles, keeps that enthusiasm alive and contributes what he can to the protection of magical creatures. And you? You stand here watering those damned pumpkins, then make us do nothing but tend Flobberworms in class.”
“I know the Buckbeak affair has distracted you lately. I understand how much you care about Buckbeak.”
“But you’re a professor now, Hagrid. A professor. Teaching is a noble profession because it passes knowledge on. I won’t dress that up in lofty words. Are you really willing to take everything in your head to the grave one day and let it turn to dust with you?”
“Besides, Buckbeak isn’t certain to die. Trust Dumbledore. He knows you want to save Buckbeak, and he’s already working to make that happen.”
“You know who my aunt is, don’t you? I can write to her and ask her to give Buckbeak a hand when the time is right. I don’t know whether her authority extends to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, but I’m willing to help you, Hagrid. I hope you can understand what we students want as well. Don’t let us down, all right?”
“That’s all I have to say. Hermione is waiting for me in the library so we can do our homework. Think it over, Hagrid.”
Suer delivered the entire speech in one breath. Hagrid stared blankly at him, almost unable to recognise the third-year child before him.
Watching Suer walk away, Hagrid murmured, “You’re right…”