Just as they were thoroughly enjoying their meal, someone knocked on the door of Hagrid's Hut again.
Fang gave two token barks, then lowered his head and went back to gnawing the meaty bone Douglas had tossed him.
Hagrid was just about to get up when Douglas issued an order without even looking up:
"Ron, get the door."
"Right away!"
Ron sprang up as though wound by a spring and eagerly trotted over to open the door.
A small, thin, gray-haired boy stood outside, clutching a camera tightly in his hands-Colin Creevey.
Ron's face fell at once, and he turned his head to call helplessly:
"Harry~~it's Colin!"
His expression made it perfectly clear that he didn't want to let him in.
Colin didn't care in the slightest. He had eyes only for Harry.
He excitedly raised his camera and aimed through the doorway at Harry, who had his head down, slurping glass noodles.
"Hi! Harry, look this way!"
At that familiar voice, Harry gave an inexplicable shudder. He lost control of a glass noodle he had just slurped into his mouth, and with an earth-shattering "Achoo!", it shot straight out of his nostril...
Douglas reacted with lightning speed, picking up his bowl and holding it high.
Hermione nimbly shielded her plate too, glaring at Harry in disgust.
Across from them, Hagrid burst into thunderous laughter.
Only Ron, standing at the door, could do nothing but watch as a short length of glass noodle coated in some unidentified slime traced a precise parabola and landed squarely in his bowl.
Click!
Colin's shutter sounded at just the right moment, and he said excitedly to Ron:
"This really is a historic moment!"
Only after speaking did Colin notice that the professor inside, smiling as he held up his bowl, was none other than his Defense Against Dark Magic teacher-Professor Holmes.
The little boy's face went white in an instant. Had he photographed something he shouldn't have?
In the Muggle world, taking photos indiscriminately could get your camera smashed!
Scared out of his wits, he instinctively hid his camera firmly behind his back.
The frozen atmosphere inside the hut broke at once.
Harry's face flushed red as he coughed and gasped, trying to get the other half of the glass noodle out of his nose.
Hermione carried her bowl off to the farthest corner.
Ron gazed in anguish at the piece of meat in his bowl, which he had taken only one bite of, and the "unidentified additive" on top of it.
Barely suppressing his laughter, Douglas tried hard to look kindly and approachable as he beckoned to Colin at the door:
"Mr. Creevey, isn't it? Don't stand outside. Come in and have something to eat. I'm sure Hagrid won't mind another guest."
In the flickering firelight, Professor Holmes's smile looked particularly sinister.
Colin felt a chill shoot from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head. With every word the professor spoke, his face grew a shade paler.
Finally, summoning all the courage he had ever possessed, he stood in the doorway and shouted through his stammer:
"P-Professor! P-Professor McGonagall sent me to find Harry and Ron, the older students... to tell them... about their detention! I... I've got something else to do. I'll be going! Goodbye, Professor!"
With that, Colin bolted toward the castle as though he had seen a ghost, never looking back. In his panic, he nearly tripped over the flagstone outside the door.
Douglas turned to Harry with an innocent expression, clicking his tongue in wonder:
"Just look at you. A younger student says hello, and you welcome him by spraying noodles out of your nose. See? You've scared him off!"
Had Colin heard that, he probably would have cried out through his tears: Was Harry really the one I was afraid of?!
After that ordeal, Harry and Ron had completely lost their appetites.
Hermione elegantly finished her last glass noodle before saying scornfully:
"You should have expected this when you broke the school rules!"
Douglas gave a satisfied belch, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and said unhurriedly:
"I was going to wait until you'd finished eating, but since you've lost your appetites, this works out nicely."
Hermione immediately asked:
"Professor, do you know how Professor McGonagall is going to punish them?"
Harry and Ron immediately cast hopeful looks his way, longing to hear some good news from Douglas.
Douglas cleared his throat, put on a stern expression, and spoke in a businesslike tone:
"Professor McGonagall originally arranged for you to polish the silver in the Trophy Room for Mr. Filch."
At that, Harry and Ron visibly relaxed. Filch might be horrible, but this was still better than expulsion.
The corners of Douglas's mouth curled slightly as he continued:
"Of course, all the weeds and gnomes in the orchard this year are yours to deal with too. No magic allowed at any point."
Their hearts, which had only just settled, rose into their throats again.
Hermione, however, thought it perfectly reasonable:
"I think that's an excellent punishment. It'll teach them both a proper lesson!"
She finished by glaring fiercely at the pair.
Douglas changed tack and gave a compassionate sigh:
"However, I told Professor McGonagall that this sort of purely physical labor required far too little skill and would do nothing to help you grow. So I secured a more meaningful punishment for you and got the silver-polishing part waived."
A glimmer of relief at having escaped disaster had only just appeared on Ron's and Harry's faces when Douglas added unhurriedly:
"I had it changed to... writing from memory. Starting with my Defense Against Dark Magic lessons. Report to my office every Saturday and Sunday evening."
"Just... just writing out your lessons from memory?"
Clinging to his last shred of hope, Harry asked in a trembling voice.
Douglas gave a devilish smile:
"Of course not. Once you've finished mine, you'll go to Professor McGonagall to write out Transfiguration from memory."
He paused, watching their faces rapidly turn deathly pale, then twisted the knife:
"Oh, right. Professor Snape said he doesn't want to see you, so you'll write out the Potions Class material from memory in my office too. Finally... don't forget that you crashed into and damaged the Whomping Willow. You'll have to write out Professor Sprout's Herbology lessons as well."
With every subject Douglas named, Harry and Ron grew a shade paler.
Hermione listened, dumbstruck. Even as a self-professed star student, she thought this punishment was so utterly deranged that it hardly seemed the work of anyone human.
Yet she couldn't help herself and, as though possessed, asked:
"Why isn't Professor Flitwick's Charms class included?"
All four people in the room turned to look at her in unison.
Hermione instantly blushed and shrugged awkwardly:
"All right, pretend I didn't say anything."
Hagrid shuddered beside them, his gaze filled with endless sympathy as he looked at Harry and Ron.
Having admired their expressions to his heart's content, Douglas casually put away his pair of unicorn-horn chopsticks and added, seemingly as an afterthought:
"Oh, goodness, I nearly forgot. There's an extra item: the school rules, two hundred copies each. There's no rush on that. Just hand them in to Professor McGonagall at the end of term. Oh, and a reminder: the orchard-clearing task hasn't been canceled. A balance of work and rest is good for your physical and mental health..."
Before he had finished speaking, Harry felt as though every ounce of strength had been drained from his body. His eyes lost focus, his body went limp, and he slid off his chair onto the floor.
Ron, meanwhile, hung his mouth open, strange rattling sounds coming from his throat as though someone were strangling him. Then his eyes rolled back too, and he collapsed to the floor.
Douglas looked at the pair on the floor and chuckled. "Well! Fell off your chairs!"
Before you continue