Sunday morning found Hogwarts bathed in cool autumn sunlight. The sky was a pale, washed-out blue, clear from edge to edge without a cloud in sight.
The Great Hall was considerably quieter than usual on weekends.
Many students had chosen to sleep in, and only a handful were at the tables when Henry arrived and took his usual seat at the Slytherin table with his standard breakfast already laid out before him.
He was working through the Daily Prophet when a small item in the corner of the page caught his eye.
Among the routine Ministry news and Quidditch league updates, there was a vague, speculative report about a member of the Muggle royal family possibly having been spotted in Diagon Alley, accompanied by a blurred profile photograph that some quick-fingered wizard had apparently managed to take outside Gringotts a few days prior.
The article was full of conjecture and offered no official confirmation, and no name was given.
He put the paper down.
What occupied him more was the progress bar in his mind, which had reached 99.75%.
He had barely set the newspaper aside when he heard slightly hurried footsteps approaching.
"Good morning, Your Highness Henry."
Harry looked a little nervous, but with an underlying thread of determined excitement. Hermione was beside him, composed and carrying several books.
Ron had the dark circles of someone who had not slept particularly well.
"Good morning, Harry, Hermione, Ron," Henry said pleasantly, setting down his cutlery. "I hope you're all having a good weekend."
"Yes, good morning." Harry took a breath. "We spoke to Hagrid earlier this morning, and he said he doesn't have anything planned today and would be happy to have a visitor. So, if you're free now, we thought we could go over."
He said it quickly, like someone who had made a decision and wanted to act on it before doubt could catch up.
Hermione added, "Hagrid was genuinely pleased to hear you have an interest in magical creatures. He can be a little overwhelming with his enthusiasm sometimes, but he's completely sincere."
Ron said nothing, studying the worn toes of his shoes, the tips of his ears a noticeable shade of pink.
Henry looked at the three of them and smiled.
He folded his napkin, rose, and said, "I'd be delighted. Now is a perfect time. Should I bring anything? It seems poor manners to visit someone for the first time without something in hand."
"Oh, no, really!" Harry waved the suggestion off. "Hagrid doesn't care about things like that. He always has food, his rock cakes are a bit on the dense side, but there's always plenty."
He smiled apologetically at this.
"Even so, I think a small gesture is the right thing to do." Henry considered for a moment, then turned and murmured a few quiet instructions to Lucy, who was standing discreetly to one side.
To Harry and the others, she was simply a Hogwarts house-elf going about her business. Lucy bowed and disappeared with a faint snap, then reappeared a moment later holding a small package wrapped in plain brown paper.
"Balmoral honey and jam," Henry explained, tucking the package under his arm. "I thought Mr. Hagrid might enjoy it with his rock cakes."
Hermione's face softened at this. Harry looked visibly relieved.
Ron eyed the package with the expression of someone genuinely wondering whether royal honey tasted meaningfully different from the ordinary kind.
"Shall we go, then?" Harry said, and led the way out of the Great Hall with unmistakable eagerness.
The path to Hagrid's hut wound down across the grounds in cool morning air that smelled of damp earth and grass.
A thin mist still clung to the edge of the Forbidden Forest in the distance, giving it a quiet, contained quality that was more tranquil than threatening.
Hagrid's hut sat beside its vegetable garden and pumpkin patch with a thin ribbon of smoke rising from the chimney.
Before they had even reached the door, a volley of deep, enthusiastic barking burst from inside, followed immediately by a booming voice.
"Fang! Quiet down now, Harry and the others are here, and there's a new friend!"
The wooden door swung open. Hagrid filled the doorway almost entirely, his rough moleskin coat dusted with what appeared to be fragments of grass and bark, his beard and hair in their usual magnificent disorder.
His face, though, was one enormous welcoming beam.
"Harry! Ron! Hermione! And this—" his beetle-black eyes found Henry immediately and moved over him with open, curious inspection "—you must be the new friend Harry mentioned! Welcome, welcome! Come in, it's cold out there!"
Inside, the hut was rather more spacious than its exterior suggested, though not by a great deal. A large table, several heavy mismatched chairs, and an enormous fireplace occupied most of it.
The fire roared magnificently, a great copper kettle hissing and steaming above it, and the room was warm to the point of being slightly too warm.
The more striking things, however, were not the furniture. Every wall was hung with animal pelts, feathers, horns, and specimens of teeth and claws.
Above the fireplace lay a scarred unicorn horn, clearly naturally shed, gleaming faintly pearl-white in the firelight.
Shelves along the walls were piled with strangely shaped stones, and strings of dried herbs and fungi swayed gently from the ceiling beams. Several large sacks in the corner appeared to contain something that was either furry or scaly, and possibly both.
Fang, the enormous black boarhound, was already in the middle of conducting his own inspection of the guests, his great head swinging from person to person, a quantity of drool narrowly missing Ron's robes.
"Sit down, Fang! Don't frighten the guest!" Hagrid pushed the dog's head aside with affectionate firmness, then rubbed his hands together and looked at Henry with a slightly embarrassed smile. "It's a bit disordered in here, don't mind it. I've got a lot of things... Please, sit down! The chairs are a touch small, perhaps, but—"
He glanced at his own chairs and then at Henry, apparently calculating.
"This is remarkable, Mr. Hagrid." Henry was already moving along the wall, looking carefully without touching. His expression carried nothing but genuine interest. "I can feel how much you care about these creatures. These are extraordinary collections."
He stopped before a single feather mounted on the wall, its surface catching the firelight in shifting rainbows of gold and copper. "Is that a Golden Snidget feather?"
Hagrid's eyes went wide. "Merlin's beard! You know it? Yes, it is! I found it at the edge of the Forest, the bird was gone already, only the feather left behind. Beautiful, isn't it? It's a terrible shame how rare they've become."
"I read about them in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them," Henry said. "They've been hunted so heavily for so many centuries, for Quidditch, for their feathers, that there are almost none left now. Protecting them ought to be a matter of serious concern."
This hit Hagrid somewhere important.
His beard trembled slightly with feeling. "Exactly right! Exactly right! You understand! Harry, Hermione, Ron, did you hear that? This—ah—"
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