On the first weekend of the new school year, a cold drizzle suddenly began falling from the sky.
The rain drifted down from leaden clouds, as fine as spider silk and as light as feathers. It was almost imperceptible against the skin, yet given enough time, it soaked into robes, plastered hair against foreheads, and allowed the damp chill to seep deep into one's bones.
However, today was also the day of the Quidditch team tryouts, and the pitch was crowded despite the weather.
The Quidditch pitch had been bustling since early morning.
A few students sat scattered throughout the stands beneath umbrellas, while a group of candidates wearing training gear waited along the edge of the pitch, shivering astride their brooms.
Aside from those who genuinely wanted to join the team, most of the students had come merely to watch the spectacle. If possible, they might even gather intelligence for their own House teams, killing two birds with one stone.
Since the morning session had been reserved for Gryffindor, Lynn did not go to the pitch to accompany Edgar.
Instead, he took a detour toward Hagrid's hut.
His purpose was simple.
He had heard that Hagrid had bred another large batch of Blast-Ended Skrewts.
To most people, Blast-Ended Skrewts were creatures that should never have existed.
In Lynn's eyes, however, they were snacks for Opal.
Ever since Opal tasted a Blast-Ended Skrewt for the first time, he had fallen in love with its flavor.
By the time Lynn reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest, Hagrid was absentmindedly watering the pumpkin patch beside his hut.
The scene was bizarre.
Rain was falling steadily, yet Hagrid stood in the middle of the pumpkin patch wearing a moleskin coat covered in mud and grass clippings.
In his hands was a bucket larger than his head, and he was methodically pouring water over the roots of the pumpkins.
His movements were entirely mechanical.
Bend down.
Scoop up water.
Pour.
Straighten.
Bend down.
Scoop up water.
Pour.
Straighten.
He put his full strength into every movement, thoroughly drenching the soil with each bucketful.
Lynn stared at him in disbelief.
He looked up at the rainy sky, then back at Hagrid.
Then he looked at the sky again.
Then at Hagrid.
For a moment, his mind went completely blank.
Lynn seriously suspected that Hagrid had water on the brain.
"Ahem!"
Lynn coughed lightly.
Hagrid's body stiffened, and he slowly turned around.
"Oh, it's you, Lynn."
He lifted the bucket slightly in greeting.
"Good morning."
"Good morning."
Lynn walked toward him, waved his wand, and extracted the water that had already formed a small pool in the field. With another flick, he hurled it into the Forbidden Forest.
"What's wrong with you? You seem distracted."
"I'm... I'm fine."
Hagrid's eyes darted around.
He took two steps forward, apparently intending to continue watering the remaining pumpkins.
Lynn moved faster and snatched the bucket from his hands.
"And you claim you're fine," he said helplessly. "What sane person waters pumpkins in the rain?"
Hagrid's hand remained suspended in the position where it had been gripping the bucket. His fingers twitched slightly in the empty air.
Only then did he seem to realize how absurdly foolish his actions had been.
He scratched his head and released a heavy sigh.
"Tell me what happened."
Lynn turned and headed toward the hut.
Once they were inside, Hagrid spoke in a subdued voice.
"Maybe Dumbledore made a mistake when he chose me to teach Care of Magical Creatures."
Lynn sat on the sofa opposite him and raised his eyebrows slightly.
"Why would you think that?"
He paused.
"Is it because only ten students chose your N.E.W.T.-level class this year?"
Aside from Harry's trio and Lynn's group of four, only three other students from the remaining Houses combined had selected Hagrid's class.
Even the N.E.W.T.-level Divination class had more than a dozen students.
Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures class had somehow attracted fewer students than Divination.
Lynn's bluntness rendered Hagrid speechless.
He nodded silently, then picked up a rock cake from a nearby basket and handed it to Lynn, seemingly hoping to use it to plug his mouth.
Lynn broke off a small piece and tossed it between his lips.
He chewed twice.
The crumbs scattered across his tongue, carrying a faint sweetness and the subtle flavor of toasted grain.
After swallowing, he asked indistinctly, "Is it because you set the entry requirements too low?"
Hagrid's expression became even more complicated.
"If an 'A' counts as low, then I suppose I did."
Lynn fell silent.
An "A" was already the minimum acceptable standard for N.E.W.T.-level study.
"O" stood for Outstanding.
"E" stood for Exceeds Expectations.
"A" stood for Acceptable.
In other words, the only prerequisite for joining Hagrid's class was having previously studied Care of Magical Creatures without failing it.
The standard could not possibly be lowered any further.
Any lower, and the requirement might as well become:
Anyone who is still breathing may join.
"When Professor Kettleburn was here..." Hagrid's voice sank even lower, almost as though he were talking to himself. "Plenty of students chose his N.E.W.T. class."
There was no jealousy in his voice.
Only pure, heartfelt self-doubt.
Hagrid lowered his head and covered his face with both hands. Lynn could see his enormous shoulders trembling slightly.
Realizing that Hagrid was on the verge of pulling out a handkerchief and having a proper cry, Lynn's thoughts began racing.
In an instant, he came up with an extremely plausible explanation.
"Hagrid, do you know what makes this year different from previous years?"
"Different?" Hagrid asked. "What do you mean?"
"Lord Voldemort," Lynn replied.
Hagrid's entire body abruptly stiffened.
"This year, the Ministry of Magic publicly announced You-Know-Who's return," Lynn explained. "Because of that, most students are subconsciously choosing subjects that will make them stronger."
"Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration—those subjects directly improve a person's combat abilities, so naturally, more students are choosing them."
He paused before continuing.
"But what about Care of Magical Creatures? Can it help them fight? Can it keep them alive? From the students' perspective, the answer is no."
Lynn gave Hagrid a moment to absorb his words.
"Hagrid, you haven't done anything wrong. The times have changed. Students have become more practical—more utilitarian."
"They're no longer choosing classes by asking, 'What am I interested in?' They're asking, 'Will this help me survive?'"
"This isn't your fault."
"Is... is that really it?"
Hagrid raised his head.
Thankfully, the sob had finally disappeared from his voice.
Lynn truly was not good at comforting people.
He could fight Death Eaters, exchange blows with Lord Voldemort, and wrestle dragons.
But comforting someone?
He would rather duel Dumbledore.
"Of course."
Lynn's expression appeared perfectly natural, and his tone was as confident as though he were stating that the sun was shining.
"Think about it. Quite a few students chose your class last year. If your teaching ability were the problem, why would that have happened?"
As he spoke, Lynn gradually began believing his own explanation.
There really had been plenty of students in Hagrid's class the previous year—roughly twenty.
That was not an enormous number, but compared to this year, it had practically been a bustling crowd.
The only major change since then was the Ministry publicly announcing Voldemort's resurrection.
Perhaps that truly was the reason.
Divination could supposedly predict the future. Even if its predictions were not necessarily accurate, they could at least provide some psychological comfort.
Care of Magical Creatures, however, could not predict the future, improve a student's combat abilities, or directly save their life.
In the eyes of the students, its "practical value" was even lower than Divination.
"It's their loss, Hagrid."
Lynn patted Hagrid's arm.
"They have no idea what they're missing."
Hagrid was successfully convinced.
He pulled himself together, rose from his chair, and walked toward the window.
After drawing a deep breath, he turned to Lynn and finally revealed his first smile of the day.
"Giving up on Care of Magical Creatures?"
His voice returned to its usual booming volume.
"They certainly won't know what they're missing! I've decided to show all of you something different."
The moment Lynn heard that, he felt that something was not quite right.
The phrase something different would have sounded perfectly normal coming from anyone else.
Coming from Hagrid, however, it sounded ominous.
"It isn't another dangerous magical creature, is it?" Lynn asked.
"No, of course not."
Hagrid shook his head, his smile growing wider.
"It's very cute."
Lynn stared at him in silence for a second.
Yep.
Confirmed.
It was definitely not safe.
---
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