Harry Potter : The White Wizard of Hogwarts

Soon, it was five minutes to three in the afternoon when the four of them left the castle and walked across the grounds to Hagrid's residence.

Hagrid lived in a small wooden house at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, with a crossbow and a pair of rubber boots propped by the door.

When Harry knocked, they heard a tense struggle followed by a few low barks, then Hagrid's voice shouted, "Stand back, Fang!"

Hagrid opened the door a crack, revealing his big, bearded face. He was surprised to see four young wizards standing there, but his expression quickly shifted to a warm smile.

"Wait a minute! Stand back, Fang!" He ushered them in while wrestling with a huge black hound that had rushed to greet them.

The cabin was a single room. Ham and pheasants hung from the ceiling, a copper kettle boiled on the brazier, and in one corner stood a large bed draped with a patchwork quilt.

"Welcome!" Hagrid said, finally letting Fang loose. The dog immediately bounded towards Ron, licking his ear. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked.

"This is Ronald," Harry introduced.

"Another Weasley brother?" Hagrid asked, glancing at Ron's freckled face. "I spent half my life trying to keep those twin rascals out of the Forbidden Forest."

On the other hand, Hermione was very ladylike. She didn't seem to mind the disarray of Hagrid's hut; she sat on a round stool he'd provided and patiently waited for him to serve rock cakes and tea.

"Oh, what a cute little witch!" Hagrid chuckled. "Don't be shy; this isn't Professor McGonagall's classroom!"

"Be yourself, Hermione," Ivan added, glancing around at the clutter that appeared haphazardly strewn about.

"Aren't you curious about what's in the Forbidden Forest? Hagrid knows it better than anyone at Hogwarts," he said, trying to pique their interest.

"Haha!" Hagrid beamed at Ivan. "I remember you! The little guy who could cast spells right after stepping into school. I've never seen a young wizard as talented as you!"

Ivan accepted the compliment graciously, taking in his surroundings. "Hagrid, how did you manage all this?" he asked, pointing at various items.

Everyone turned to see what Ivan was referring to, and Ron and Harry looked equally puzzled. Hermione, too, was taken aback, only seeing a room cluttered with junk.

"You lot…" Ivan shook his head, chuckling as he picked up a cup of tea. Upon entering the hut, he had sensed a strong magical presence. With a quick glance using his magical eye, he realized the room was filled with precious magical materials.

Notably, the animal skin used as a carpet was made from a unicorn—a creature whose tail hair alone was worth ten galleons. Even though the carpet wasn't made entirely of unicorn hair, it still had significant alchemical value. With the treasure trove of magical supplies in his hut, Hagrid was undoubtedly one of the wealthiest individuals at Hogwarts.

"Is there anything you like here, little Ivan?" Hagrid asked, pleased with Ivan's perceptiveness. He offered Ivan anything he fancied in the hut.

Ivan politely declined. "The items are valuable, but I can't accept gifts without merit. Besides, I don't need these materials right now," he explained.

"That's a pity," Hagrid replied, not pushing the matter further.

As Hagrid shared stories about his rock cakes and listened to the four young wizards discuss their first week at Hogwarts, the atmosphere grew warm and friendly. Harry recounted his experiences in Snape's class, and Hagrid, like Ron, urged him not to worry—Snape never seemed to like any students.

"But he really seems to hate me," Harry said, feeling uneasy.

"Nonsense!" Hagrid replied, though Harry noticed Hagrid avoided his gaze when he said it.

"How is your brother Charlie?" Hagrid asked, changing the subject to Ron. "I like him—he has a good way with animals."

Ivan struggled with a rock cake and concluded it was more suitable for building walls than eating.

"Ivan!" Hermione looked at him for help, and he noticed Hagrid was focused on Ron. He discreetly flicked his fingers, and the rock cakes in their hands shrank before floating into his pocket.

"!!!" Harry's eyes widened in disbelief.

Ivan smiled sheepishly, and Harry quickly followed suit, hiding the evidence of their rock cake dilemma from Hagrid, who was too busy to notice.

"Oh!" Hagrid suddenly exclaimed, noticing the empty plate. "You, you actually…"

His eyes sparkled with excitement. After all these years, he'd never met anyone who enjoyed rock cakes as much as he did.

"What?" Ron asked, baffled.

"I knew it! I knew someone would like them!" Hagrid said, misty-eyed. "You must still be hungry, right? I'll get you more!"

Ivan, Hermione, and Harry quickly interjected, "No, we're full!"

"Really?" Hagrid pressed, eager to share his baked goods.

"Really!" Harry insisted, a hiccup escaping his lips.

Hermione nodded in agreement, though her lie was clear as she thought to herself that eating more rock cakes would be torture.

"Hagrid, what's this?" Harry asked, changing the topic again. He pointed to a small piece of paper he'd found beneath the teapot warmer, a clipping from the Daily Prophet.

"Latest Report on Gringotts Break-in," he read aloud. The report detailed the ongoing investigations into the break-in that had occurred on July 31 and speculated that it was the work of an unknown dark wizard. The goblins at Gringotts insisted nothing was stolen, as the vault had been emptied earlier that day.

Harry's heart raced as he remembered Ron telling him about the attempted robbery on the train. "Hagrid! The Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday, and we were there when it happened!"

Ivan remained calm, aware that it was Voldemort trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone. He sipped his tea, choosing not to engage with the topic.

Hagrid, however, was evasive, brushing off the incident. "Oh, just a little thing," he said, trying to downplay it.

As they left Hagrid's hut, their pockets stuffed with rock cakes they didn't want, the four friends walked back to the castle for dinner, Harry's mind still racing.

"Ivan," Harry said suddenly, noticing Ivan walking ahead, hand in hand with Hermione. At that moment, a spark of hope ignited within him. He couldn't understand everything, but he knew Ivan and Hermione were both incredibly smart.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Ivan turned, noticing Harry's expression.

Harry shared his thoughts about Hagrid's mysterious behavior regarding Snape and the break-in at Gringotts, and how he felt there had to be a connection.

Hermione's instincts kicked in; she could sense that trouble was brewing. While she was eager to prove herself, this situation felt beyond her control.

"I do know something," Ivan said, a twinkle in his eye. "You know, I'm a natural prophet. I can glimpse some images of the future."

Harry's interest peaked. "Can you see the past?" he asked, excitement bubbling within him.

"Sort of," Ivan replied. "It's a fragmented vision, tied to significant moments in a person's life."

He paused, meeting Harry's gaze. "But I saw something interesting about Snape."

The others leaned in, captivated by Ivan's words.

"Snape had a best friend—a girl. Before Hogwarts, they were inseparable. But then, he was sorted into Slytherin, and she into Gryffindor, causing them to drift apart."

"Then what?" Ron pressed, eyes wide.

Ivan's tone grew serious. "The girl ended up with someone else and had a child."

"Snape liked your mom?" Harry was taken aback. He hadn't expected this revelation.

"But why?" Hermione wondered aloud. "If Snape liked Lily, why does he seem to target Harry?"

Ivan weighed his words carefully. "Love can turn to bitterness when it's unrequited. Snape's feelings for Lily are complicated, especially given their history."

He decided not to reveal everything about Snape's past struggles, knowing it was a sensitive topic. Yet, he wanted Harry to understand the nuances of Snape's character.

As they continued their walk, the revelation hung heavy in the air, leaving them all to ponder the deeper connections between love, loss, and the choices that shape their destinies.

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