Draco did not appear at dinner.
He probably wrote to his father asking to transfer schools, since staying at Hogwarts would only lead to more upsetting situations.
Unfortunately, the reply was a rejection.
The reason is simple: the timing was wrong.
Having just lost his seat on the board of directors, transferring schools now just shows he has something to hide.
Malfoy needs to adopt the victim's attitude and at least keep quiet and suffer for at least half a year.
Once the Wizard Cards game gains momentum, Lucius will win over the other School Board Member and return to become the unsung chairman of the board.
Albus Dumbledore?
Vincent Wayne?
He'll all be waiting for Lord Malfoy!
Draco, having regained his spirits, burst into laughter alone in his dorm room.
As she laughed, her eyes welled up with tears.
Extremely mad, extremely abstract.
Just after midnight,
Six small figures quietly walked out of the castle.
They stopped in front of a small wooden house, and the person in the front raised his hand and knocked on the door three times.
"Hahaha—you've finally arrived!" Hagrid opened his arms wide and lifted Vincent into the air with a little force.
"Be gentle, be gentle, I don't know if this little bottle is sturdy enough."
Hagrid quickly and gently put him down. "Come with me, I've prepared the place."
He led the six little ones to the outside of an underground cave deep in the Forbidden Forest.
The surrounding area is lush with greenery, and the space inside is very spacious.
Vincent pulled out the cork and gently tapped the bottom of the small bottle upside down.
Under the dim light, a large, greenish object squeezed out of the bottle opening.
It had one eye closed, and even the open one had little luster, as if a thin film was attached to it.
Its body is the same as before it shed its skin, but ever since it came out, it has been lying weakly on the ground.
"Wow—" Hagrid carefully reached out and gently stroked its enormous body, which was almost as big as himself.
"Hagrid, don't you hate it?"
"I don't hate it. It's actually quite pitiful. Dumbledore told me that fifty years ago, it was Riddle controlled it to attack Moaning Myrtle."
Vincent turned to face the other five, revealing an expression that said he had expected this.
Hagrid, as Half-blood- Giant, did not inherit the brutal nature of the Giant.
On the contrary, he is very simple.
While the Basilisk was indeed the murderer of Moaning Myrtle, Tom was the true culprit behind the series of tragedies.
"I never thought Riddle would be a bad person, let alone that he would frame me."
Hagrid's large hand, which had been stroking the cold scales, paused. "Riddle is him, isn't he? He's Voldemort."
"Yes." Vincent was slightly surprised. "He— Voldemort was very good at disguising himself. Professor Dumbledore said that he never gave himself away during his time at school."
The Basilisk looked exhausted and its large head rested on its body.
"Are you sure there won't be any danger?" Rolf crouched down and raised his hand in mid-air.
"Harry used the Parseltongue to tell it not to attack people." Vincent also squatted down, but didn't reach out to touch it.
"One of its eyes was blinded by Professor McGonagall with my Iron-Copper Alloy Sniper Rifle, and the other was enchanted by Professor Dumbledore."
He suddenly gritted his teeth. "And Snape, that guy secretly took all the Venom."
The venom of the thousand-year-old Basilisk, a treasure second only to the Phoenix Tears in price.
"Don't be sad, buddy." George patted his shoulder lightly. "Didn't we already plan this? We'll settle all our scores, old and new."
"Yes," Fred said, squatting down as well, his tone almost encouraging.
"Don't worry too much. Whether the Old Bat sells it or uses it to make more potent poison, he certainly won't run out of it so quickly."
"He's scheduled to attend Lockhart's hearing next Saturday, so let's wait until then."
Hagrid tilted his head, "Are you guys—"
"We're not!" Hermione quickly denied. "It's a dark and terrifying place, there must be lots of traps and mechanisms there."
"Huh?" He removed his large hand from the slightly warm scales. "I was just asking if you wanted Jormungandr's venom."
"Jormungandr?"
"This is the big guy." He slapped the Basilisk with his large hand.
The six little ones paused for a moment, then all stood up.
They had already come up with a name within five minutes of meeting.
"Hagrid, Professor Dumbledore said that Jormungandr will live in the Forbidden Forest from now on. Could this be your idea?"
"Yes, because I'm going to—" Hagrid suddenly covered his mouth.
The six little ones all squinted their eyes.
A 50-year-old case is to be reopened, and the hunting ground guard is to be promoted to professor?
Is Dumbledore truly at his wit's end?
"This is not a good position!"
"Yes, look at Quirrell and Lockhart."
"Perhaps this snake— Jormungandr— still harbors the soul of Tom."
Hagrid was very grateful for their concern. "Don't worry, Dumbledore hasn't decided who will be the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor next year."
"Then you..." Vincent looked around the hole he was in again.
This is an environment perfectly suited for Jormungandr's survival, and it's clear that it was carefully chosen.
The nests where the Acromantula live were also probably found with Hagrid's help.
Professor Kettleburn is retiring next year, so there should be two vacant professorships next year.
Hagrid was a man of exceptional talent who, in just fifty years, managed to raise a vast and prosperous Aragog, a place the size of a palm, to the point where his descendants now lived in abundance.
"You wouldn't happen to be the new professor for the Care of Magical Creatures next year, would you?"
"No, I—" Hagrid became shy and hesitant. "How did you know? I only received the notification from Dumbledore the day before yesterday."
"You've written your answer on your face."
He coughed rather awkwardly, "Remember not to tell anyone—"
"Oh, Vincent, didn't you need Jormungandr's horn for your experiments? Hurry up and take it, get it done quickly and get some rest."
Vincent took out a ring engraved with his own Magical Runes, put it on his hand, and bent down to face Jormungandr's large head.
"Hagrid, please don't let him move around."
The Mithril ring melted like liquid, quickly assembling into a thin scalpel.
"Don't worry, it won't hurt."
Just as Jormungandr was about to raise his large head, the scalpel he was holding was already slashed horizontally across him.
Before it even understood what was happening, it had already become a thousand-year-old one-horned Basilisk.
Vincent didn't choose the side with the blind left eye, but instead chose the other side.
He transformed the scalpel back into a ring and held up the Basilisk horn, which was a full 20 inches long, with both hands.
Older pythons may also grow "horns," but these are simply keratinous protrusions.
"Hiss—" Perhaps the Mithril scalpel was too sharp, it took Jormungandr about ten seconds to react.
Hagrid pressed down on its forehead with one hand and pulled a bottle out of his coat with the other.
He applied the Dictamnus powder to the cross-section on the right side, saying, "Okay, okay, the pain will stop soon."
At first glance, it may seem a bit rough, but after watching for a while, you'll find that the technique is actually quite gentle.
In terms of caring for Fantastic Beasts, Hagrid certainly deserves to be a professor.
The premise is that the species living in the Forbidden Forest will not become more rampant as a result.