Tonight's Mars Was Dazzlingly Bright

Hagrid looked down at Harry as if he had heard something out of the blue.

"Find the poachers? Oh, Harry, that's not something a first-year student like you should be doing."

His large, hairy head swayed as he spoke, and his beard twitched.

Harry noticed some burn marks under his beard.

"It's just a suggestion, Hagrid," Harry said, then asked with concern, "Hagrid, what happened to your beard?"

"Oh, it's nothing." Hagrid waved his hand with a smile, his face becoming kind. "Norbert burned it, it's nothing."

"Norbert? Who's Norbert?" Harry asked, intrigued.

Does Hagrid keep some Magical Creatures in his cabin?

"Norbert is my Norway Ridgeback..."

Hagrid covered his mouth with his hand halfway through his sentence.

Having known Hagrid for so long, Harry has come to understand Hagrid's personality quite well.

This big friend seems to have been given Truth Serum by nature; he can't keep any secrets.

It breathes fire, and it's from Norway — Harry immediately thought of Fire Dragon.

"Norway? You mean Norwegian Ridgeback?" He looked at Hagrid.

Hagrid nodded hastily, meeting Harry's green eyes, and no longer hid. "Yes, it's Norwegian Ridgeback. It treats me like its mother, and it's very cute and clingy."

Cute? Clingy?

Harry tried to associate the two words with a Fire Dragon, but unfortunately, he failed.

"You bought it?" he asked with interest. "You know, a dragon egg costs a lot of money. I remember you said your dream was to raise a dragon?"

"No, I didn't buy it." Hagrid wiped his nose. "I won it. Just last night, I was drinking in Hogsmeade village and playing cards with a stranger—frankly, that guy probably wants nothing more than to get rid of it."

"A dragon egg like that could fetch a good price in Knockturn Alley, so why would he be so eager to get rid of it?" Harry looked at Hagrid, feeling something was amiss.

If it were just this one thing, it wouldn't be so bad, but it's too much of a coincidence, just like how he got his hands on the Fluffy, which makes it seem very strange.

"Perhaps he..." Hagrid said, then suddenly felt something was wrong.

He looked down at Harry: "Wait, Harry, how do you know about Knockturn Alley?"

"I heard it from someone else," Harry said, choosing to brush it off. "I think you should be careful, Hagrid. This guy might have some ulterior motive."

"Who knows?" Hagrid shrugged, the massive stone bow nearly poking his Fang at Yaya.

This thing is called a bow, but it's actually a crossbow.

"Let's go, Hagrid," Harry said to Hagrid, showing no fear whatsoever, but rather a sense of joy.

The Forbidden Forest, I used to come here often, with Pabbie Sweeting, or with Cassandra, or with Verathea. Returning to the Forbidden Forest felt like returning home.

Hagrid glanced at the back of Harry's head, a question mark slowly rising in his mind.

Are first-graders these days so mentally strong? How can they remain calm and even show a hint of anticipation when faced with such a dark forest?

"We're not here to play around, Harry!"

Hagrid tried to make the atmosphere more serious, but the relaxed atmosphere Harry had just been in wouldn't be good for the Forbidden Forest trip; in fact, it would create danger due to complacency.

"You are now in solitary confinement!" he reiterated.

"Okay, Hagrid." Harry smiled at Hagrid.

The Forbidden Forest was very quiet at night, except for the rustling sound of the wind blowing through the trees and the babbling of the stream.

Clearly, there is a stream nearby.

If I remember correctly, that stream is home to a creature called a "Grindylow," whose tongue can be used to concoct Potions.

Walking like this was getting a bit boring, and Harry felt he should start a conversation.

"Hagrid, are there many magical creatures in the Forbidden Forest? I mean, your cabin is on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, you must deal with them quite often, right?"

"Oh, to be honest, I'm good friends with them all," Hagrid said with a chuckle. "The magical creatures in the Forbidden Forest are all lovely. If it weren't for the timing, I would definitely take you to meet my old friend, Aragog."

"Aragog?" Harry found the name a bit of a mouthful, and it seemed to be related to some kind of arachnid?

"Yes, he was a little cutie I adopted when I was in school." Hagrid's expression was somewhat nostalgic. "He..."

Before he could finish speaking, Hagrid immediately became alert.

He grabbed Harry and quickly retreated behind a tree to the side.

Harry, of course, sensed something rapidly approaching. He pulled out Darkie's wand, but considering Hagrid's presence, he put it back and took out his own.

Hagrid took a huge feathered arrow from the quiver on his shoulder, placed it on his stone bow, drew it taut, and raised it in the direction from which the sound came.

"Who's there!" he roared. "Come out now! Don't hide, I've got my eye on you!"

Fang ran around at Hagrid's feet, its eyes fixed on the direction from which the sound came, barking loudly.

The bushes shook again, and just as Hagrid was about to lose his patience, a voice came from inside.

"It's me, Hagrid, Ronan."

Hagrid relaxed slightly, but still did not put down his weapon.

A moment later, a person emerged from the bushes... or a horse?

He was a red-haired Centaurs with a human upper body and a horse lower body—the horse's body was the same color as his hair, a reddish-brown.

A ponytail swung back and forth, making her look somewhat unhappy.

"Oh, it really is you, Ronan." Hagrid finally relaxed, lowered his weapon, and stepped forward to shake hands with the Centaurs.

The Centaurs didn't seem very happy. He said sadly, "The night isn't good, Hagrid. It looks like you want to shoot me with your bow and arrow."

"We have to be on high alert, Ronan," Hagrid said, patting his quiver. "There's a bad guy lurking around in this forest... Oh, right, it's Harry Potter."

He finally remembered Harry and began to introduce Ronan and Harry to each other, "Harry, this is Ronan, as you can see, a Centaurs."

Harry didn't find it strange at all; Centaurs were something he'd seen before.

When Veratia and I came to the Forbidden Forest to protect the animals, some ignorant Centaurs mistook us for poachers.

The result was obvious: despite Veratia's gentle demeanor when she was with him, she clearly lacked patience when facing Centaurs.

"Good evening." Ronan was still as melancholy as ever, and his greeting to Harry was somewhat perfunctory.

He looked up at the night sky, his expression unusually solemn.

"Mars is so bright tonight... it's blindingly bright," he said.