blueteamnovel Chapter 167 The Monster of Yesteryear
Chapter 167 The Monster of Yesteryear
Chapter 167 The Monster of Yesteryear
Smoke billowing from the hunting lodge indicated that the owner was at home.
McGonagall took a deep breath, stepped forward, and knocked on the heavy wooden door with her knuckles.
The knocking sounded particularly loud in the quiet air.
A series of heavy footsteps immediately came from inside the door, accompanied by a muffled but loud "Coming!" The voice sounded somewhat muffled through the wooden door.
After a brief wait, the door was pulled open from the inside with a yelp.
Hagrid's large, hairy head and thick beard, almost reaching his mouth, peeked out, his body nearly blocking the entire doorway. He wore a filthy apron and held a large, roughly-shaped sledgehammer in his hand.
Upon seeing four professors standing outside the door, Hagrid's large, bell-like eyes instantly filled with surprise and a hint of barely perceptible panic.
"Professors?" he grumbled. "What's going on? Oh! Has some dangerous creature escaped again? Do you need my help?"
"Hagrid," Lynch's voice was steady, devoid of any emotion. His gaze swept past the massive body of the gamekeeper and into the house. "You're in charge of the school's roosters, aren't you?"
Hagrid's broad shoulders tensed almost imperceptibly for a moment, and he subconsciously rubbed the edge of his apron with his free hand.
"Yes—it's me," he replied in a muffled voice, his eyes sweeping across the faces of each professor as if trying to read something from them. "But—, I don't know what's going on, several of them have died recently, completely dead, as if they've been drained dry by something—it's really heartbreaking."
He paused, raised the sledgehammer in his hand—a sledgehammer that looked capable of smashing boulders—and his tone became more energetic, as if trying to prove he was working on a problem: "I'm planning to add another sturdier fence to the chicken coop; I need to hammer the nails in. Maybe—maybe a fox? Or a weasel or something—"
After Hagrid finished speaking, a brief silence fell at the doorway.
The professors' eyes met almost imperceptibly for a moment.
Snape's dark eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze sliding from Hagrid's sweaty forehead to his hand gripping the hammer, and finally back to his uneasy face. His thin lips twitched almost imperceptibly downwards, forming a faint, cold, knowing expression.
Professor McGonagall's lips tightened, her brow furrowed, and her gaze towards Hagrid became even heavier, filled with worry and doubt. She seemed to want to say something, but ultimately remained silent, only tightening her grip on her clasped hands in front of her.
Lynch's expression remained unchanged, but his deep gaze lingered on Hagrid's face for a couple more seconds. He nodded almost imperceptibly, firmly imprinting the information "the rooster's mysterious death" and "the chicken coop being reinforced" into his mind.
Even Lockhart seemed to sense something ominous from the unusual silence. His usual smile froze for a moment, his eyes darting between his colleagues and Hagrid. In the end, he wisely kept quiet, only awkwardly adjusting his royal blue robe sleeves.
This brief, silent exchange lasted only a few seconds.
"Can we go inside and talk, Hagrid?" Professor McGonagall stepped forward, her tone softer than usual, but with an undeniable air of authority. "There are some things—about the past—that we need to know from you."
"Oh! Of course, please come in, professors, it's just a bit messy inside—" Hagrid seemed to realize that it was inappropriate to have several professors blocking the doorway. He hurriedly moved aside, somewhat clumsily leaning the hammer against the door, trying to take off his apron, but couldn't find a place to put it.
The group entered the small house one by one.
The interior was more crowded and warmer than the exterior, with huge wooden beams overhead and a large copper kettle hanging above the stove, bubbling away. The air was filled with a unique aroma of biscuits, firewood, and some kind of leather.
In the corner were piles of pots and jars of various sizes, and on the table were scattered huge nails, pieces of wood, and a half-eaten rock cake.
Before everyone could even sit down—in fact, apart from the chair Lynch had shrunk to, the other chairs were not suitable for ordinary humans to sit on—Professor McGonagall got straight to the point.
"Hagrid," she took a deep breath, her voice exceptionally clear in the cabin, "we've come to you to ask about the opening of the secret chamber fifty years ago."
Hagrid's massive body suddenly stopped. The color drained from his face at a visible speed, turning deathly pale in an instant, and a fine layer of sweat quickly seeped onto his broad forehead.
His thick fingers unconsciously tightened around his filthy apron, his voice becoming dry and hoarse: "Professor McGonagall—why do you ask this? It's been so long—"
Professor McGonagall's expression softened slightly, but her gaze remained resolute. "Because tonight, Hagrid," she said in a low voice, "the Chamber of Secrets has been opened again. Warnings remain on the walls; Filch's cat has been petrified."
Hagrid gasped, his massive body trembling almost imperceptibly, like a tree shivering in the cold wind. He gripped the edge of the wooden table beside him with one hand, as if needing support.
Snape slid half a step forward, his voice as cold as the wind in the cellar: "The records indicate that one of the 'parties involved' when the Chamber of Secrets was opened fifty years ago is still at Hogwarts. We know it's you."
Hagrid's gaze swept frantically over Snape and Lynch, finally settling on Professor McGonagall's face with an almost pleading expression.
Professor McGonagall lowered her gaze, avoiding Hagrid's panicked eyes, her jawline taut.
Lynch stepped forward and said firmly, "We need to know the truth, Hagrid. Fifty years ago, what was their basis for concluding that you opened the secret chamber?"
Hagrid's throat bobbed violently. He remained silent for a few seconds, sweat trickling down his forehead, before finally, as if he had exhausted all his strength, he uttered a single word in a hoarse voice: ".—·Aragok".
Lin Qi's eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly, and a hint of genuine surprise flashed across his eyes. He hadn't expected to hear this name when inquiring about information related to the secret room.
"Aragok?" he repeated, his tone carrying a hint of confirmation, but without the unfamiliarity Hagrid had anticipated.
"The one that's already blind?" He didn't finish his sentence, but the meaning was clear.
Hagrid jerked his head up, his pale face contorted with surprise, even his trembling momentarily halting. "You—how could you—" Lynch interrupted him, his tone calm, stating a fact as if it were common knowledge. "Continue, Hagrid. What do you and Aragog have to do with that?"
Hagrid was completely stunned by Lynch's words. He was panting heavily, sweat pouring down his face, and his speech involuntarily quickened, as if he wanted to escape the interrogation as soon as possible: "I...I raised it in the castle, from when it was still an egg—and hatched it. Then the girl died and they found it. They said it was the monster from the secret chamber, that it was the murderer."
"But Aragog was just a baby spider!" Hagrid's voice suddenly took on a stubborn, defensive tone, though his body still trembled slightly. "It was so small! It did nothing! They just needed someone to take the blame! Just because it looked scary, just because I—I was a—"
"And then?" Lin Qi pressed, his gaze sharp.
"They—they wanted to kill it." Hagrid's voice trailed off, trembling with pain. "It was Professor Dumbledore—he helped me get Aragog away, to a safe place—"
After he finished speaking, he seemed to collapse completely, his huge body leaning against the table, breathing heavily, his face still as pale as paper.