"Hagrid, even though I locked the heat inside with the spell, the firebricks themselves are pretty low-grade. They'll need replacing ahead of schedule."
The temperature in the hut had finally dropped a notch. Rock settled into a chair off to the side.
"No problem at all," Hagrid said cheerfully. "I'm heading into Hogsmeade tomorrow anyway. I'll pick some up then."
"Good. But there are a few other things you should stock up on early." Rock grabbed a nearby quill, pulled over a scrap of parchment, and started jotting down a list.
"These are supplies you'll need once the little one hatches."
Hagrid took the parchment and read it carefully. A delighted grin spread across his face.
"Pretty much matches what's in the books… but what's the sedative for?"
He blinked, genuinely puzzled.
"Hagrid," Rock said with a helpless laugh, "no matter how you slice it, even a baby dragon is still a dragon."
He pointed toward the copper chest. "Professional beast handlers treat hatchlings with extreme caution. The sedative is just insurance. Don't worry—it won't hurt the little guy. Dragons are a lot tougher than you think."
"Charlie always carries some on him," Ron piped up from the side. "He says dragons are so dangerous even the experts keep tranqs ready at all times."
"Exactly," Rock nodded. "Beast-grade is best."
"Alright…" Hagrid still looked a little heartbroken. The egg hadn't even hatched yet and he was already in full protective-dad mode.
"Oh—most important thing…" Rock stood up, glanced around the hut, and nodded toward the windows. "You need to cover those. Curtains drawn all the time just make people more suspicious. Frosted window paper would be perfect. Or—if there's a charm for it—even better."
Unfortunately, none of his own charm variations covered privacy glass.
"There is one!" Ron's hand shot up. Everyone turned to him. "I remember it from Witch Weekly. Mum used it once—made the windows go all matte. I just… can't remember the exact incantation."
His voice trailed off toward the end.
Digging through back issues of Witch Weekly sounded like torture.
"Solid lead," Rock said. "They only do big updates once a month anyway. Hagrid, you could check the library or ask around. Ron—any guess on the month?"
"Hmm… pretty sure it was June. A few months before term started."
Ron smacked his fist into his palm, suddenly energized.
"Thanks, Ron!" Hagrid clapped his huge hands together with a thunderous sound.
"No problem," Ron mumbled, cheeks going as red as his hair under the praise.
"That's basically it," Rock finished. "Grab some fire-extinguishing powder too—and remember: not a word to anyone."
He leaned back. That was all he could reasonably do.
Privately, he still wished Hagrid would just hand the egg over to Grandpa Newt. But it was Hagrid who'd acquired it. Forcing the issue wouldn't be fair.
"Right," Hagrid said, carefully picking up the quill in his massive fingers and scribbling notes. Only now did he finally let out a long breath. "I've been a nervous wreck since last night. Didn't expect it to be this straightforward."
"Anyway—you lot hungry?" He lumbered over and plonked down an enormous bowl of rock cakes, a pile of jerky, and what looked like an entire cauldron cake.
Harry waved it off politely.
Then he turned to Rock.
"Er… Rock? What do you actually think of Professor Snape?"
Again?
Rock shot Hermione a puzzled glance. She'd already asked him the exact same thing.
"Like I told Hermione, Harry—the best way to judge someone is to actually understand them first."
Harry's brow furrowed. Clearly not the answer he wanted.
Ron jumped in, voice edged with feeling. "Snape's been targeting Harry from day one. That jinx during the match had to be him. Harry nearly fell off his broom!"
Classic Gryffindor—loyalty dialed all the way up.
Before Rock could respond, Hagrid cut in sharply.
"Merlin's beard, Ron—what are you even saying?"
"Snape is a professor Dumbledore trusts. He would never—and I mean never—try to hurt Harry. I'd stake my life on it."
Harry's eyes widened. "Hagrid… do you know something?"
Hagrid faltered. "Er… well… I just know Snape wouldn't do it. That's all I'm saying."
"Actually—" Rock spoke up quietly "—if you really want to know why… why not just ask Headmaster Dumbledore?"
The room went dead silent.
Hagrid opened his mouth, closed it again, clearly torn between saying too much and saying nothing.
Hermione's expression screamed I knew Rock was holding something back.
"Ask the Headmaster?" Harry and Ron exchanged incredulous looks.
Even talking to regular professors made them nervous. Dumbledore was on another level entirely—the greatest wizard alive.
"It's not hard to get into his office," Rock said, ignoring Hagrid's frantic eyebrow-waggling. "Password's usually one of Honeydukes' best-sellers. Just think of a popular sweet."
Harry went quiet.
"Right—curfew's coming up. I should head back."
Rock stood, gave everyone a casual wave, and strolled out with a light step.
Giving our dear Headmaster Dumbledore a nice little headache?
Yeah… that actually sounds kind of fun.
---
Snape's office.
Rock wandered the shelves at his ease, casually reading off the labels of every vial and jar.
"You're telling me you can sense magic, and you're trying to manifest that ability onto your irises through a potion?"
Snape looked up from his desk, expression somewhere between disbelief and mild disgust.
"Correct, Professor." Rock nodded. "But my current Potions knowledge obviously isn't enough to develop something like this on my own. I was hoping you might have relevant texts… or experience."
Snape's lip curled. "At least some people have the good sense to know when their troll-sized brain has reached its limit."
"Do you even understand what it means to anchor an ability to the iris? One mistake and you could either see things you were never meant to see… or lose the ability to see anything forever."
The words were ice-cold, but Rock caught the undertone buried beneath them—something almost like concern.
He met Snape's piercing stare evenly. "I know, Professor. That's why I'm only experimenting with materials right now—recording reactions."
"List the materials you've used."
Snape rose and moved to the workbench.
Rock's eyes lit up.
Sounded like Snape actually did know something about this.