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Time passed, and Friday arrived.
For Harry, life at Hogwarts was becoming richer and more fulfilling. At first, he had worried he wouldn't be able to keep up with the other students. After all, before meeting Archer, he knew nothing about magic.
But after attending his classes, he quickly realized that wasn't the case. Even the students from wizard families hadn't received much formal magical training before starting school. Not to mention the other kids from the Muggle world like him.
In fact, in some classes, Harry was even ahead.
However, he didn't let this make him proud. Because he noticed that even students who were just learning magic for the first time could outperform him. Take Hermione Granger, the clever girl he met on the train — she had already mastered the Levitation Charm in their very first Charms lesson. Her movements and incantation were far smoother and more natural than his.
Harry remembered how he had practiced for nearly half a day before he finally managed to make the feather wobble and rise from the table — and that was only with guidance from other wizards.
And it wasn't just in Charms. In Herbology, Transfiguration... Oh, Merlin, she's so smart, he thought.
Harry had initially thought he might have an edge in Potions, thanks to the knowledge Archer had drilled into him. But Professor Snape… Well, that was another matter entirely.
As these thoughts raced through his mind, Harry finally reached Hagrid's hut. He had been invited over for tea, and he brought Ron along.
Harry raised his hand and knocked gently on the door. Heavy footsteps thudded from inside, and moments later, the door swung open. Hagrid's towering figure filled the frame.
"Come in, Harry!" Hagrid beamed, his bushy beard trembling with his grin. His eyes flickered over to Ron. "And this must be one of the Weasley kids, eh?"
Ron nodded, looking a little nervous.
Inside, Hagrid's hut was just one large room. It wasn't big, but it had a cozy, reassuring warmth. In one corner stood a massive bed, and nearby was a set of oversized wooden tables and chairs. The table was piled with mismatched teacups and a large plate of strange, lumpy biscuits — at least, Harry hoped they were biscuits.
But to his surprise, there was already someone else inside.
"Professor!" Harry blinked. Sitting at the table was Archer, looking very much at war with a rock-hard Rock Cake he was trying to bite through. His teeth scraped against the hardened surface like someone gnawing a magical stone.
Visibly tired, Archer raised his head at Harry's voice and forced a smile. "Oh, Harry, you're here. And Mr. Weasley too."
"Uh... Hello, Professor," Ron mumbled, sneaking a wary glance at the cake in Archer's hand.
Seeing this, Archer casually handed Ron the unbitten piece while, under the cover of Hagrid fetching tea, he slipped the half-chewed chunk under the table into Fang's eager mouth.
Before long, Hagrid returned with a massive teapot. "Come on in, sit down!" he said warmly. "Just brewed a fresh pot. Got these tea leaves from Professor Plant Poison! And don't be shy — help yourselves to the biscuits!"
He began pouring tea for everyone. Since Archer had claimed the chair, Harry and Ron perched themselves on the edge of Hagrid's big bed. As for the biscuits, they wisely chose to ignore them, as did everyone else.
"Professor, what brings you here?" Harry asked, curious.
Archer blew on his tea and replied, "Hagrid invited me over. He's been eager for news about Torch."
"Ah, Torch, that little darling!" Hagrid sighed with a grin, his eyes gleaming. Over the summer, Hagrid had written Archer almost every few days, all about the dragon Torch.
Ron, listening nearby, furrowed his brow. He nudged Harry and whispered, "Torch? What's that?"
Harry leaned closer and murmured, "It's a baby dragon."
Ron's mouth fell open so wide it could have fit a whole Rock Cake.
Harry chuckled. "Professor Archer has a dragon at home. I can take you to see it during the holidays."
Ron's face twisted into an expression halfway between awe and confusion. How could Harry talk about raising a dragon as if it was a pet dog? Was his understanding of dragons completely off?
Archer took a sip of his tea and said slowly, "Torch is growing fast. Godric has been taking care of him.
Of course, he still can't fly yet, and no fire-breathing either, but his scales are tougher now, and his appetite has shot up."
Hagrid's eyes sparkled. "Wonderful! Bet he's going to be an incredible dragon one day!"
The conversation drifted on. They gossiped about many things — like why Professor Quirrell always smelled of garlic, how Archer's first class had gone, and even why Filch, the caretaker, seemed to delight in catching students breaking rules.
Finally, Harry brought up something that had been bugging him.
"Hagrid," he said while Hagrid was still chuckling at one of Archer's cold jokes, "about Potions class..."
Hagrid immediately turned, his smile fading into a worried frown. "What's wrong, Harry? Did something happen in Potions?"
Harry furrowed his brows and muttered, "I think Professor Snape really doesn't like me. During class, he kept asking me questions. And even though I answered most of them right, he wouldn't give me any points — he just kept finding reasons to deduct them."
Hagrid's face grew uneasy. He scratched at his beard and mumbled, "Ah... Professor Snape is always strict. He's tough on everyone, really."
Ron, sitting beside Harry, crossed his arms and grumbled under his breath, "Yeah, except for the Slytherins. He's never strict with them."
Archer, however, straightened up, suddenly more interested. "What exactly did he ask you, Harry?"
After all, Archer had personally taught Harry. It would be embarrassing if Harry couldn't handle basic questions.
Harry thought for a moment. "First, he asked: What do you get when you add powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
"The Draught of Living Death," Archer answered at once, nodding. "I taught you that."
"Then he asked: Where do you find bezoars? And also, What's the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?
I answered them all — even listed different aconite variants. But Snape still deducted points from me."
Archer fell silent, staring into his teacup. For a moment, he imagined Snape's face when Harry not only got the answers right but even added extra information. That must've been... quite a sight.
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