Dumbledore and Harry seemed to have plenty to talk about. Brian gave them ample space for their conversation, reminded them not to give children alcohol, and returned to the library, where an anxious-looking Ron and Hermione intercepted him at the entrance.
"Mr. Brian, where's Harry?"
Hermione was the first to approach. She circled Brian once and asked anxiously,
"Why didn't he come back with you?"
"He's still in the Headmaster's Office..."
Brian was halfway through his answer when Ron interrupted him, leaning closer with his eyes and nose all scrunched up. Even his chin was puckered into little dimples as he asked cautiously, "Is Harry going to be expelled?"
Expelled again-what went on inside these young wizards' heads?
"No, don't worry. Harry will be back soon."
After reassuring them, Brian couldn't resist asking,
"But if Dumbledore really did decide to expel Harry, what would you do?"
"I'm afraid we'd try anything-organize a protest, write to the Ministry of Magic... wait, you aren't saying that to prepare us for bad news, are you?"
Hermione suddenly clapped a hand to her cheek, as though a troublesome tooth were bouncing around inside her mouth.
"If my mum decides to pull out one of my teeth, she starts casually boasting about how good she is at pulling teeth two weeks before the day comes-she really is good, but it still hurt for five whole days."
Ron's answer carried a little threat:
"I'd call Wood over without a second thought-you wouldn't want to see how mad a Quidditch captain gets when he loses a star player right before a match-especially Wood. Have you ever seen a mother dragon whose eggs have been stolen?"
"Did I hear someone calling my name?"
Mr. Wood, the mother dragon, emerged from the library muttering to himself. Brian immediately felt the temperature around him rise a few degrees.
"Ah, Ron, Hermione-brilliant... have you seen Harry? I need to go over our Quidditch match tactics with him again, but I can't find him anywhere. The people inside told me Mr. Brian had dragged Harry off for detention-is that true?"
"It isn't." Brian, the man at the center of the story, happened to be right there and promptly defended himself. "Harry's busy with something. He'll be back in a while-I promise."
"Oh, sorry, sir. I didn't notice you there..." Wood scratched his head awkwardly. "Then I'll go find Fred and George first... those two really are in detention... honestly, when are they going to give me a moment's peace..."
Wood hurried away. Watching him go, Ron asked blankly, "When did he get to the library?"
Hermione thought for a moment. "I think he came in just as we walked out through this door."
"All right, the library's closing soon. Go back to your common room and wait for Harry. There's nothing to worry about-and remember not to tell anyone about this."
Brian ruffled both students' hair and reminded them,
"Oh, and Hermione, the third-floor bathroom where Moaning Myrtle used to stay is going to undergo extensive renovations-it won't be open for a long time. Also, remember to clean up after yourself when you finish brewing potions."
"Er... all right... I'll remember."
The tips of Hermione's ears immediately turned red, but even that happened far more slowly than she picked up on the information.
"...Used to? Has Moaning Myrtle moved?"
"Moved? She hasn't moved into the boys' bathroom, has she?" Having just learned about this tearful ghost from Hermione, Ron couldn't help drawing in a sharp breath. "Please, anything but that!"
"No, but close." Brian silently apologized to Harry. "She's chosen a storeroom near the Gryffindor communal bathroom as her usual resting place."
In the pumpkin patch outside Hagrid's Hut, the grumbling insects were whispering among themselves, furiously cursing the wretched thief inside.
The insects were furious now-that great lumbering giant had stolen more than half their winter food supply a while ago. Before they had even had a chance to cry, the great oaf had started crying himself!
"I let Aragog down! I let him down!" Hagrid's eyes were red all around as he pounded his head. "I actually made him stay in the same castle as a basilisk! He was only a child then! So tiny, so helpless-I'm a terrible friend!"
Fang was a hound who cared about his master. He thoughtfully jumped onto Hagrid's lap and licked the tears streaming down his face, but this caring gesture had the opposite effect-only half of Hagrid's face would have been wet before, but now all of it was.
"Aguamenti!"
Unable to watch any longer, Brian found an enormous stainless-steel basin, filled it with the spell, and held it out to Hagrid.
"Stop crying, Hagrid. If it weren't for you, who knows how awful Aragog's fate might have been? Think about it-to most wizards, acromantulas are nothing more than producers of valuable venom."
"But he ended up with me-oh, why wouldn't Aragog tell me about the basilisk?"
Hagrid spoke sorrowfully, lifted the stainless-steel basin, and took two great gulps.
"If I'd known there was a basilisk in the castle, I'd never have made him live there in fear!"
"Aragog had his own reasons... wait... that's for washing your face... well, never mind. What matters is that we've found the real culprit, and we have reasonably reliable evidence to clear your name. The letter from the Ministry of Magic might even arrive tomorrow, and you won't have to keep hiding your wand in that pink umbrella."
Brian reached out and scooped up Fang, who also wanted a drink to quench his thirst, and stuffed a lamb leg bone into the big dog's mouth. Hagrid's beard was now covered in Fang's drool, and canine saliva had no disinfecting or cleaning properties.
"Magic? Me? Oh! Right, you found proof that the basilisk existed-the skin it shed-oh, Chet, I don't know how to thank you!"
With Brian's reminder, Hagrid finally realized that his name could be removed from the Ministry of Magic's blacklist. He had been so consumed by guilt over his friend that he'd had no attention to spare for anything else.
Joy after sorrow could make people lose control, and Hagrid was beside himself with delight. As he spoke, he rose with such a commotion that every small object on the table bounced, and even the hut's rafters creaked. He spread his arms and walked toward Brian-
"Wait!" Brian stopped Hagrid firmly. "Before we celebrate with a hug, wash your face and beard."
"Hey! Don't say things like that at a happy moment!" Hagrid kept coming, undeterred. "Don't worry, Chet! Your head barely reaches my chest!"
On his way back to the library, Brian ran into Snape, who gave a cold snort and made to leave.
Brian stopped him and said with heartfelt understanding, "Snape, I owe you an apology for suddenly hugging you last time."
Being forcibly hugged really was unpleasant, and if the person doing it was a half-giant, your life might even be in danger. Brian could say without exaggeration that, if Hagrid wanted to, he could absolutely kill someone with a hug.
"...I hope your brain will be working properly when you face the students tomorrow." Snape delivered the words hesitantly, swished his robes, and continued his patrol.
The next day, when Brian officially started work, he felt that something really was wrong with his brain. He suspected that he was not in the library at all, but in an area of Diagon Alley packed with market stalls.
The entire library was filled with students chattering away.
As for the reason?
Naturally, it was the upcoming Quidditch match.
Before you continue