The Black-Robed Man at the Hog's Head

"Hey, Hagrid! I knew you'd be here!" Kayson called to Hagrid, who was fertilizing the pumpkins.

"Kayson! How's being a professor? Are the little wizards all terribly naughty?" Hagrid straightened up and replied.

"Not really. Honestly, the little wizards enrolled in my Alchemy class have all been quite well-behaved. By the way, are you free today?"

"So... honestly, we might as well drink at your hut. This place is a little too dirty." At the Hog's Head, Kayson kept wiping the counter in front of him with a handkerchief in obvious disgust. As for the glasses, he had brought his own.

"Don't fuss over the details. Drinking here is what gives it atmosphere. Besides, we can drink as much as we like without worrying about running into trouble like we would elsewhere. The owner here is a frighteningly powerful wizard. No one dares cause trouble in his establishment," Hagrid reassured him.

"All right. Once I'm drunk, I won't remember any of this." Kayson picked up the whiskey on the table and poured it into his own glass. He clinked glasses with Hagrid and poured it down his throat.

"Huh? I don't feel as woozy as last time. Looks like I've improved quite a bit when it comes to holding my liquor."

"Of course. Whenever I drank with other people before, I wasn't even having fun yet before they were lying on the floor. You're the only one who can drink me to a draw... But I remember last time, didn't you say that if you drank again, you'd be a dog?" Hagrid said, scratching his head.

"Oh... did I say that?"

Hagrid's eyes darted about. "No, you didn't. I remembered wrong!"

"That's more like it!" Kayson raised his glass to clink it against Hagrid's again, though this time he was already beginning to feel dizzy.

Gradually, he could no longer count how many bottles of whiskey stood before him. Of course, there was more than whiskey. All kinds of distilled spirits that served as base liquors elsewhere—vodka, gin, brandy, tequila, and the like—covered the table in front of the two of them.

And the floor around them as well.

A figure in black robes, his face obscured, carefully considered where to step before finally taking a seat.

"Gentlemen, would you mind if I joined you for a drink?" the black-robed man asked in a low voice.

"Very much," Kayson said, shaking his head.

"Then would you mind making a wager? I have something to stake. Look at this big fellow! I won it from someone else—a dragon egg this large!"

The instant he heard the words "dragon egg," Hagrid, who had been groggy a moment ago, suddenly sobered up by more than half. Well, only half.

"What do you want to bet?"

"I know you, Hagrid, the Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts. I hear you're quite knowledgeable about magical creatures. I happen to have a three-headed dog, but it seems a little too excitable. I'd like to know what I should do to calm it down. If your method works, this dragon egg is yours," said the black-robed man.

"That's easy. Three-headed dogs love music. You only need to play it some soothing music, and it'll calm down until it falls asleep. I recommend a harp. Three-headed dogs especially like that sort of music."

Leaning on a wine bottle, Kayson looked at the black-robed man beside him. For some reason, he felt that something was off about him.

But his alcohol-clouded mind could not quite process what was wrong.

Forget it. Who cared?

He poured himself another drink and gulped it down. Soon, the black-robed man handed the dragon egg to Hagrid, then turned his gaze toward the bleary-eyed Kayson.

"Professor Kayson, honestly, you've been rather prominent lately. I hear you've made many alchemical creations with a kind of red stone you refined yourself?"

Kayson hiccupped and thought about it. Yes, he had indeed used Redstone to make Snape an upgraded alchemical induction cooker.

"Yeah. What about it?"

"Don't misunderstand. This is only a small request. Following the Redstone theory you taught to the sixth-years before, I made a little device myself. But when I laid out the wiring, I accidentally arranged the routes incorrectly. I don't know which one is the real switch. What should I do?" the black-robed man asked softly.

"Where did you get Redstone?"

"A sixth-year student gave it to me. He said it was an alchemical product made by their professor and told me to cherish it."

"I see. Just cut off the main Redstone line, then connect the main Redstone line to a Redstone block."

"It's that simple?"

"Have you never studied runes? The two follow roughly the same pattern."

Kayson's muddled mind had more or less figured out who this black-robed man was.

If the man had only asked Hagrid about three-headed dogs, then perhaps he really did happen to own one.

But unfortunately, he had also asked Kayson about Redstone. A three-headed dog and Redstone—Kayson did not believe the world held coincidences that convenient. It followed that this black-robed man was almost certainly Quirrell.

Still, this worked out nicely. Dumbledore had previously asked him to cleverly tell Quirrell how to get through the piston door, and Kayson had been wondering how to do it.

Then, just when he was sleepy, someone handed him a pillow. Wasn't this perfect?

"Thank you both. Oh, and Hagrid, this dragon egg is yours." The black-robed man—or rather, Quirrell—left the dragon egg on the table and departed from the Hog's Head.

"Haha, Kayson! I never thought we'd get such a huge surprise just from coming out for drinks. A dragon egg! Haha!" Hagrid had been laughing merrily as he cradled the dragon egg in his arms, but the moment he saw Kayson continuously pouring liquor into his mouth, he stopped laughing.

"Do you think I've had a little too much?"

"What do you think?"

"Sorry, sorry. Come on, cheers!"

The next day...

"That'll be twenty-nine gold Galleons and six silver Sickles. I'll round it off for you—just give me thirty gold Galleons." The old man with the goatee spoke flatly.

Kayson's hand froze as he was about to take out his money. He was clearly stunned by this peculiar sort of rounding.

Still, he did not have much of an objection. He and Hagrid had slept in the tavern all night, taking up a table until that morning. They really had held up the man's business.

Besides, nothing had gone missing from the two of them over the course of the night, from the dragon egg to the Galleons, despite being in a crowded tavern full of prying eyes.

With security this good, paying one extra Galleon was perfectly fair.

"Thirty Galleons. Would you like to count them?" Kayson took out thirty Galleons and lined them up on the bar.

"No need." The old man gathered up all the Galleons, then returned to where he had been, continuing to wipe his already dirty glasses with his already dirty rag.