The Marauders: Year Three | #Wattys2016

What's the Plan, Potter?

What's the Plan, Potter?

Newt Scamander had left the grounds of Hogwarts.

After all, he would be a very poor magizoologist indeed if he knew where there was a werewolf on the night of the full moon and failed to observe the creature's change.

Newt was sitting now in a booth at the Hog's Head, across from Rubeus Hagrid, clutching a pint of cold butterbeer with thick gobs of ice cream floating within it. Hagrid was sopping up tears from his eyes. "Yeh was always my greatest hero, Mr. Scamander!" Hagrid croaked loudly. He blew his nose like a trumpet. "Means the world ter me that yeh're settin' here havin' a drink with me now." He took a long sip of the oak matured mead he was drinking.

"Pleasure's all mine," stammered Newt, keeping his eyes trained very carefully on the stein before him. He blew a couple bubbles with his straw, a childish smile crossing his lips as they popped. He glanced at his watch. "You said you're expecting your friend Mr. Veigler?"

"Ah yeah," Hagrid said, nodding, "Once a month me an' ol' Ned get tergether and have a drink here at the Hog's Head."

"Once a month you say?" Newt asked, discreetly slipping a tiny notebook from his vest pocket. "Any particular day?"

"On the day o' the full moon," Hagrid nodded, "Veigler says that's the most interestin' time there is in Hogsmeade. Lots of unusual folk 'round the full moon," he explained.

Newt Scamander nodded. "And... do these little, er, get - get togethers.... Do they last long?"

Hagrid shook his head, "Not usually very long, no. Mr. Veigler has a lot ter do. It's really very nice o' him ter be takin' the time out his day to spend with me 't'all."

Newt nodded slowly, thinking on what Hagrid had just said. He leaned back, glancing at the windows. Far off and away, he could just see the outline of the castle over the trees as the evening came.

"Same as you - bein' nice ter me when yer don't really haf'ter be!" Hagrid took a shuddering sigh of glee and clutched his handkerchief. "Mr. Scamander, when I was a young boy goin' ter Hogwarts, I always dreamt'er becomin' a magizoologist," Hagrid mumbled thickly. "T'was my passion. I wanted ter be the next you."

Newt looked at Hagrid.

"I asked for a case like yeh have there ev'ry year on my birthday," he said, "I wanted ter travel the world like you and collect magical beasts ter study 'em 'n learn more an' more 'bout them." Hagrid looked wistful.

Newt sipped his drink. "And what - what happened that stopped you?" he asked.

"Got me self expelled," Hagrid said sadly.

"What for?"

Hagrid stared into his mead, "Raisin' me a - a friend."

"A friend?"

"A pet, really."

"A - a pet?"

Hagrid leaned real close, "An acromantula. Named him Aragog."

Newt stared at Hagrid. "You... you, uh, you named an acromantula, did you?" he asked with an uneasy chuckle. "You're kidding?"

Hagrid shook his head.

"You - you're serious then?" Newt leaned forward. "How are you alive?"

"Aragog 'n me are real friends," Hagrid explained, "True friends. He un'er stands me like nobody else in this world!"