Party Police.

Chapter Twenty.

When they knocked on the door of the gamekeeper's hut an hour later, they were surprised to see that all the curtains were closed. hagrid called "Who is it?" before he let them in, and then shut the door quickly behind them.
It was stifling hot inside. Even though it was such a warm day, there was a blazing fire in the gate. Hagrid made them tea and offered them stoat sandwiches, which they refused. (Y/n) fanned herself.
"So— yeh wanted to ask me somethin'?"

"Yes," Harry said. There was no point beating around the bus. "We were wondering if you could tell us what's guarding the Sorcerer's Stone apart from Fluffy."

Hagrid frowned at him. "O' course I can't," he said. "Number one, I don' know myself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn' tell yeh if I could. That Stone's here fer a good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts— I s'ppose yeh've worked that out an' all? Beats me how yeh even know abou' Fluffy."

"Oh, come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you do know, you know everything that goes round here," said Hermione in a warm, flattering voice. Hagrid's beard twitched and they could tell he was smiling.  "We only wondered who had done the guarding, really." Hermione went on. "We wondered who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you."
Hagrid's chest swelled at these last words. Harry and Ron beamed at Hermione.

"Well, I don' s'ppose it could hurt ter tell yeh that... let's see... he borrowed Fluffy from me... then some o' the teachers did enchantments... Professor Sprout— Professor Flitwick— Professor McGonagall—" he ticked them off on his fingers, "Professor Quirrel— an' Dumbledore himself did somethin', o' course. Hang on, I've forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape."

"Snape?"

"Yeah— yer not still on abou' that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped protect the Stone, he's not about ter steal it."

Harry knew Ron, Hermione, and (Y/n) were thinking relatively the same thing as he was. If Snape had been in on protecting the Stone, it must have been easy to find out how the other teachers had guarded it. He probably knew everything— except, it seemed, Quirrell's spell and how to get past Fluffy.
"You're the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy, aren't you, Hagrid?" said Harry anxiously. "And you wouldn't tell anyone, would you? Not even one of the teachers?"

"Not a soul knows except me an' Dumbledore," said Hagrid proudly.

"Well, that's something," Harry muttered to the others. "Hagrid, can we have a window open? I'm boiling."

"Can't, Harry, sorry," said Hagrid. Harry notice him glance at the fire and he looked at it, too. 

"Hagrid— what's that?" But he already knew what it was. In the very heart of the fire, underneath the kettle, was a huge, black egg.

"Holy cricket," (Y/n) muttered, crawling towards the fire and staring at the egg in fascination.

"Ah," said Hagrid, fiddling nervously with his beard, "That's— er..."

"Where did you get it, Hagrid?" asked Ron, crouching over the fire and beside (Y/n) to get a closer look at an egg. "It must've cost you a fortune!"

"Won it," said Hagrid. "Las' night. I was down in the village havin' a few drinks an' got into a game o' cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest."

But what are you going to do with it when it's hatched?" Hermione asked.

"Well, I've bin doin' some readin'," said Hagrid, pulling a large book from under his pillow. "Got this outta the library— Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit— it's a bit outta date, o' course, but it's all in here. Keep the egg in fire, 'cause their mothers breathe on 'em, see, an' when it hatches, feed it a bucket o' brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. An' see here— how ter recognize diff'rent eggs— what I got there's a Norwegian Ridgeback. They're rare, them." Hagrid looked very pleased with himself, but Hermione did not.