Hagrid scratched his head. "That's one way to put it..."
Seeing Herman and Harry's expressions, he quickly explained, "It's okay, I drink it all the time, it's perfectly fine."
As he spoke, he patted his chest to prove he was alright, making a muffled, thunderous sound.
Herman's lips twitched at his matter-of-fact attitude, and he gave up his original idea of asking Hagrid for some of the divine medicine as a backup.
Hagrid, you're Half-giant, of course you're fine, but Crabbe is a pure human. Is this dosage really okay?
Fortunately, Crabbe recovered quite well after drinking the medicine; his complexion had returned to normal, and his spirits had improved considerably.
Goyle, who was standing nearby, was also woken up by Draco splashing him with a cup of cold tea. He wiped the water off his face, sat up, and looked around blankly.
Draco, hands on her hips, pressed them for details before finally learning that the two had been curious about the big bone in the pot and wanted to try it, but as soon as they took it out, Fang mistook it for food and tried to steal it.
Hagrid laughed heartily after hearing this, and patted Fang, who was lying on the ground hugging a bone. " Fang is a bit possessive of its food. You'll get to know it better if you come here often. It'll even share its Rock Cakes with you then."
Herman's lips twitched slightly upon hearing this, silently wondering to himself, "Are you sure you're sharing it, and it's not Fang didn't want to eat it anymore that you're giving it to me?"
Crabbe and Goyle had fully recovered. They rubbed their arms and didn't seem to hold a grudge against Fang, probably realizing that they had indeed taken Yaya's dinner first and were in the wrong.
In a pleasant atmosphere, Draco led everyone to say goodbye to Hagrid. As she reached the door, she glanced back at Hagrid, as if remembering something important, and turned back. " Hagrid, could I take another bag of those Rock Cakes with me?"
Hagrid paused for a moment, then chuckled and took a pre-packaged bag from the cupboard, handing it to her. Draco's eyes crinkled with laughter as she took it.
Herman watched this scene from the side, somewhat confused by Draco's actions. Had she secretly changed her teeth last night, getting the same style Goyle Crabbe?
On the way back, the afternoon sun filtered through the gaps in the tree canopy, casting shimmering patches of light on the ground.
A breeze blew in from the direction of the Forbidden Forest, carrying a fresh scent of grass, trees, and earth, causing the hems of the robes of the group to flutter slightly.
Herman walked beside Draco, his gaze occasionally falling on the cloth bag in her hand.
The few pieces of Rock Cakes carved a sharp, angular outline inside the cloth, swaying with the rhythm of Draco's walk, occasionally bumping against her wrist with a dull thud.
The sound was like someone carrying a brick while walking.
Herman glanced at it again, and finally couldn't help but ask, "What do you want it for? To smash Filch?"
Disliking Filch is considered politically correct among Hogwarts students. From Gryffindor to Hufflepuff, from Ravenclaw to Slytherin, the four houses are more united on this issue than the House Cup competition.
Herman even suspected that if Hogwarts were to hold a "Most Unpopular Faculty Member" election, Filch would probably win by a landslide, and no one would care who came in second.
From this perspective, Filch did a very successful job.
As a gatekeeper, he went to great lengths, successfully turning all students in the school against him, regardless of grade, lineage, or college.
Draco heard Herman's question, she didn't stop walking, but turned her head to look at him.
Her lips curved slightly, then the curve quickly widened into a smile Herman was very familiar with—the kind of smug, mysterious smirk she would show when she was about to do something bad or had already done something bad.
She looked at Herman, her eyes curving into two crescent moons, but she didn't say a word.
That expression clearly said, "Guess, guess hard. If you guess right, I'll tell you; if you guess wrong, I'll still tell you. I just want to see you get anxious."
Herman was intrigued by her appearance and pressed her for more information. "What exactly are you trying to do? Hitting someone is really not a good idea, but that piece of bread might knock someone out if it hits them on the head. Filch is annoying, but he's not that bad."
Draco just smiled, her steps even lighter than before, and the swing of her hand holding the Rock Cakes was much wider.
Herman frowned slightly, his mind racing.
Based on his understanding of Draco, this little girl definitely wasn't up to any good!
So who will be the target of this Rock Cakes?
It couldn't possibly be Filch. Throwing a piece of rock at the gatekeeper is too crude. Draco's taste wouldn't be that low, and it makes no sense. If you want to hit someone, just use a rock. What's the point of throwing a Rock Cakes at someone—to frame Hagrid?
That doesn't make sense either. If Hagrid did it, he wouldn't have left anyone alive with that kind of force.
What's certain is that Draco is up to something wicked; it's just a matter of who will be the unlucky one.
Herman silently went through the names of all the teachers and students in his mind, but in the end he still couldn't determine who the victim was.
Harry walked on Draco's other side and did not participate in the conversation at all.
Her gaze fell on the distant treetops, her steps were unhurried, and her expression was as calm as usual. But Herman felt that her peripheral vision kept glancing at Draco, and the corner of her mouth had a more playful smile than usual, as if she had already guessed what Draco wanted to do.
Crabbe and Goyle followed behind, walking side by side, still whispering about the taste of the stew in Hagrid's pot, completely unaware of the interaction between the people in front of them.
As they walked, Harry, who was in the lead, suddenly slowed down and glanced at the waist-high bushes by the roadside.
Draco paused for a moment, listened intently, and faint sounds came from deep within the grass, soft and low.
Herman followed their gaze and initially saw nothing but lush green leaves swaying in the wind.
But after squinting and examining it carefully, he finally noticed something was wrong.
There were several unnatural dents along the edge of the bushes, as if something had pressed them down from the inside, and the grayish-white undersides of the leaves were turned out, which didn't quite match the surrounding glossy dark green.
Looking deeper in, a few fingers, or rather fingertips, occasionally peek through the gaps in the branches and leaves, with a touch of red, like the edge of a robe being caught and pulled out by something.
Herman stopped, took two steps forward, and tilted his head to look into the bushes.
The people hiding inside had their backs to him, their heads huddled together, seemingly engrossed in staring at something in the distance, completely unaware that someone was standing on the road behind them.
From this angle, you can only see the outlines of the backs of the heads and shoulders of a few people. One of them has a tuft of messy black hair on the back of his head, another has dark brown hair, and the last one has red hair.