"Hagrid?" Alaric looked at the bewildered giant standing in his doorway and beckoned him in. "What are you doing here? Come in, quickly."
Hagrid didn't need to be told twice. He stepped into the shop and picked out a sofa, which emitted a series of concerning creaks and groans as he sat down.
Seeing the easy familiarity between the two, Harry looked back and forth in confusion. "You two know each other?"
"Course we do, Harry!" Hagrid relaxed into the cushions, subjecting the poor sofa to even more structural stress. "Professor Thorn and I go way back. In fact, this year, the Professor is gonna be Hogw—"
"Ahem."
Alaric cut Hagrid off with a sharp cough and a pointed wink. "I think we'd best save a few surprises for later."
Harry didn't yet know that Alaric had been appointed as a professor. Alaric had decided it would be more impactful to let the boy find out once they were actually at the castle.
Hagrid caught on immediately and clamped his mouth shut.
"What?" Harry asked, looking bewildered. "What about Teacher?"
Hagrid cleared his throat, his voice turning a bit stiff. "Nothin', Harry. Just talkin' 'bout old times. Professor Thorn was a student at Hogwarts long ago, and I'm the Keeper of Keys and Grounds."
Alaric noted that Hagrid was remarkably poor at keeping secrets. Harry still looked suspicious, but he didn't press the matter; he was still riding the high of finally holding his acceptance letter.
"Right then," Hagrid said, pivoting the conversation. "Alaric, how is it you know Harry? And why's he callin' you... Teacher?"
"I've lived here for quite some time," Alaric explained. "I ran into Harry about six months ago. He showed a profound interest in Potions, so I decided to give him a head start with some private lessons."
Hagrid looked at Harry, who gave a dutiful nod. Privately, Harry still questioned the "profound interest" part of that statement.
However, to Alaric's surprise, the news nearly moved Hagrid to tears. The giant rubbed his eyes and reached out to pat Harry on the head, though his hand was large enough to cover the boy's entire skull. "Oh, a real interest in Potions, eh? Little Harry..."
Harry's hair, already a mess, was now completely vertical.
"You must have a real gift for it," Hagrid continued emotionally. "Just like your mum."
Mum.
The word hit Harry with a physical force. It was so foreign that it felt as though time itself had slowed down. "My mum?" Harry stared at Hagrid. "You knew my mother?"
Hagrid seemed to realize he'd stepped in it. This wasn't exactly the time or place for a deep dive into the Potters' history. But the words were out, and there was no taking them back. He looked into Harry's green eyes, searching for the right words. "Er... yeah, Harry. I was workin' at Hogwarts when she was a student. She was top o' the class in Potions, she was. Hardly anyone could match her."
Harry's heart hammered. This was the first time anyone had told him anything personal about his parents. Alaric, meanwhile, glanced over at Remus Lupin. Remus was the one in the room who truly knew the Potters best, but he remained silent, his jaw set in a hard, serious line.
Just as Harry prepared to ask another question, a grating, wood-on-tooth screech came from near Alaric's feet.
Alaric looked down. Torch, the Chinese Fireball hatchling, was gnawing industriously on the leg of his chair. Despite only having milk teeth, the dragon was already leaving deep gouges in the wood.
"Hey! None of that, Torch!" Alaric scooped the dragon up, locking its snout shut with his hands. "I think it's time for a lesson in basic manners, you little monster."
"Wait!" Hagrid suddenly roared, nearly jumping out of his skin. "Is that a dragon? Alaric! Is it truly?"
The volume of Hagrid's voice made everyone jump. Alaric cursed inwardly; he had forgotten that Hagrid shared Professor Kettleburn's unhinged obsession with fire-breathing lizards.
Hagrid scrambled to his feet and hovered over Alaric, nearly upending the coffee table in his haste. Perhaps the giant's sheer presence was too much; Torch, who had been struggling to bite Alaric's fingers, went perfectly still and looked up at Hagrid with wide, curious eyes.
Hagrid's own eyes were practically bulging. "Alaric, I don't believe it! You've got a dragon! Oh, that is so beaut—I mean, shockin'!"
"An' a Chinese Fireball, too!" he added breathlessly.
Alaric was privately impressed. Most wizards wouldn't be able to identify a hatchling at a glance—to the untrained eye, they were all just black, wrinkly, and lizard-like. Hagrid, however, had pegged it instantly.
Alaric held Torch a little tighter as Hagrid loomed over them. He got the distinct impression that if he wasn't careful, Hagrid might try to tuck the dragon into his oversized coat and bolt for the door.
"Yes, Hagrid. It's a dragon. But he's only just hatched; he's a baby," Alaric explained.
Hagrid stared at the hatchling, his face a mask of pure adoration. "I've dreamed o' havin' a dragon me whole life! He looks so precious!"
"Would you like to hold him?" Alaric asked. Seeing the giant acting like an excited child, he couldn't help but offer.
Hagrid's face lit up as if he'd been hit by a Lumos Maxima. "Oh, I... I'd love nothin' more!"
He reached out his dinner-plate-sized hands and clumsily took the dragon. Torch looked terrified for a moment, but since Hagrid's hands were so large the dragon couldn't even move, it eventually gave up and settled in.
"Blimey! He's so tiny! An' look, he's not even scared o' me!" Hagrid beamed. "Tell me, have you been givin' him the brandy mixed with chicken blood yet?"
"Naturally," Alaric nodded, gesturing to a copy of Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit on the table. "The instructions are quite clear."
"I know that book!" Hagrid nodded enthusiastically. "I'm gonna have me one of these one day, mark my words."
For the next half hour, Hagrid was completely lost to the world, cooing over Torch while Harry sat by, unable to get a word in. Finally, Hagrid seemed to remember why he was in Surrey in the first place.
"I'm supposed to be takin' Harry to Diagon Alley," he said. "But the lad said he wasn't goin' anywhere 'til he got your okay. We've got a lot o' school supplies to buy."
Alaric felt a genuine warmth in his chest. He hadn't realized Harry's trust in him ran that deep.
"Of course you can go," Alaric said, smiling at Harry. "Hagrid is a good man. You'll be safe with him."
Once Harry and Hagrid had departed, Alaric realized he'd forgotten to give Harry his birthday gift. He wasn't particularly worried, though; he'd just have to trust his owl to make the delivery to the Dursley house later that evening.