Under Hagrid's endless chatter, William, Cedric, and Cho learned the story of Professor Kettleburn.
Professor Kettleburn had been hired back when Professor Dippet was headmaster.
However, Dippet had deemed him reckless and impulsive, so Kettleburn had endured a 62-year probation period before becoming a full professor.
Like Hagrid, Kettleburn adored dangerous magical creatures and was dedicated to introducing these "adorable critters" to his "adorable students."
His most notorious incident occurred when he attempted to enchant an Ashwinder to play the role of a worm in the school play The Fountain of Fair Fortune. The result? The Great Hall caught fire.
"But he's a good man at heart. I liked him. I learned so much about magical creatures from him," Hagrid muttered.
Despite his admiration, Hagrid was clearly anxious. If it had taken Kettleburn 62 years to become a professor, would he ever be deemed worthy of teaching Care of Magical Creatures?
Hagrid's real concern was his criminal record—it might disqualify him entirely.
William, Cedric, and Cho exchanged glances. There was little they could do to help him with this.
If Dumbledore wanted Hagrid to teach, he would probably find a way to clear his record.
"Don't tell anyone yet. I'm scared that if it gets out, I won't get the position," Hagrid pleaded.
The trio nodded in agreement.
At that moment, Fang began barking outside.
Hagrid quickly tossed the book into a high-hanging basket.
"Who is it?"
"It's us, Hagrid," came Harry's voice. "Why's the door shut in broad daylight?"
"Oh, Harry…"
Hagrid rushed to open the door, letting Harry and Ron inside. Hermione and Annie followed closely behind.
"Annie's here too?" Hagrid beamed as he handed her a treacle toffee rock cake.
Hagrid was good friends with Roy Stark, so he had a soft spot for the Stark siblings.
"Go on, eat up, Annie—it's delicious!" Hermione urged eagerly.
Wait... Hermione too had been this enthusiastic about promoting her own cooking over the summer too!
Annie blinked, took the rock cake, and stared at its burnt-black surface. She glanced at everyone else... none of them had taken a bite. Her guard immediately went up.
Hermione's expression turned disappointed.
"Why did practice end so early?" Cho asked, probing for information.
Harry hesitated and scratched his head, looking uneasy.
"Why are you hesitating? Just spill it. Those Slytherin bastards showed up!" Ron blurted angrily.
"Didn't you already book the pitch through Madam Hooch?" Cedric asked. "How could they just take it over?"
"They had a signed note from Snape, permission to train a new Seeker!"
"Slytherin already has a new Seeker without holding trials?" Cho frowned.
Clearly, they were missing some key information.
"Yeah, Lucius Malfoy donated seven Nimbus 2001s to the team, so Malfoy got the spot!" Ron fumed.
"Money talks, huh?!"
Cho and Cedric weren't fazed by Ron's indignation, after all, money really was impressive.
The two exchanged a knowing glance, mentally calculating how much of a power boost the broom upgrades would give Slytherin.
To Harry, their silent interaction felt like a glass of pure lemon juice.
So sour!
It stung so badly it hurt.
William's gaze shifted between the group as he suddenly asked, "Did you guys have a fight with Slytherin?"
"Yeah."
"What happened?"
"I slapped Malfoy," Annie replied, hugging the rock cake as she spoke calmly.
Cho and Cedric gaped at her.
"And why was that?" William asked evenly.
"Malfoy insulted Hermione. He called her a 'Mudblood.'"
CRACK!
The cup in Hagrid's hand was crushed as his face twisted in fury. "Did he really say that, the little git?"
"Yes," Hermione confirmed. "Although I don't know what it means exactly… I could tell it was very rude."
"It's a slur," Annie explained quietly. "It's a derogatory term for Muggle-born witches and wizards."
"Exactly! And it felt so good to see Annie slap him," Ron chimed in.
"How do you know that term, Annie?" Hermione asked curiously.
"Dumbledore gave me The Tales of Beedle the Bard as a bedtime storybook. Each story has his commentary, and that word was mentioned in the notes," Annie explained.
In truth, the wizarding world had a whole repertoire of insults like "Dung-Eater" and "Filth-Feeder," comparable to the worst profanities in Muggle culture.
While internet culture had made people desensitized to such terms, hearing them in real life was an entirely different story—getting slapped would be the least of someone's worries in these kind of situations.
Annie quickly recounted the events that followed, detailing how Hermione had taken down the Slytherin students with her spells.
"I don't blame you for fighting back," Hagrid said, though his brow furrowed with concern as he looked at Hermione and Annie.
"But Lucius Malfoy might storm the school. He's a school governor, after all."
William took a sip of Hagrid's pine needle tea and said calmly, "It's fine. Malfoy wouldn't dare as long as Dumbledore is still here."
Right now, Lucius Malfoy had his hands full. Aurors had conducted several searches of his mansion. He had no time to stir up trouble with Dumbledore.
Expelling students?
That was the headmaster's prerogative. Governors were just the ones footing the bill.
The only real issue was school policy. While there was no rule against insults, using magic to attack other students was explicitly forbidden.
Fighting, regardless of the reason, was prohibited.
This situation could either be downplayed or blown out of proportion.
"Let's go," William said, standing up.
"Go where?" Annie asked, puzzled.
"You didn't think this was over, did you?" William shook his head.
"You guys... naïve! Simply too naïve."
"If you've fought with Slytherin, they're probably running to Snape already. We need to get to Professor McGonagall."
Malfoy was definitely going to report them. He practically lived by the words "My father..."
William didn't bring the entire group as Snape had a tendency to become extra vindictive when Harry was involved, which could complicate things.
Instead, he took Hermione and Annie to McGonagall's office.
As expected, Malfoy had gone straight to Snape, who was already in McGonagall's office demanding justice.
Malfoy stood beside him with a dramatic white bandage wrapped around his head, looking pitifully injured.
"Stark, Miss Granger. You've come at just the right time," McGonagall said sternly. "Professor Snape claims you assaulted Slytherin students on the Quidditch pitch."
"Yes. I slapped Malfoy," Annie admitted quickly. "But it had nothing to do with Hermione."
"It does have to do with her!" Malfoy snapped. "She hit me with a Disarming Charm, I crashed into a goalpost!"
"She also attacked six other Slytherin players and my two best friends!"
Malfoy conveniently left out the part where he'd hurled insults, painting himself as the helpless victim.
"Well, this is very disappointing," Snape sneered, his thin lips curling into a sinister smile.
"Using magic to attack students and not just one, but several? Tch tch, Professor McGonagall. I believe such violent tendencies warrant expulsion!"
Snape loathed schoolyard violence... when Gryffindor students were involved.
"Well said, Professor Snape," William said, a faint smirk on his face. "I agree. Slytherin's entire Quidditch team should be expelled."
"What did you just say?" Snape glared at him.
"Malfoy claims Hermione single-handedly attacked ten Slytherin students... I don't understand."
William feigned confusion.
"How could a second-year Muggle-born witch overpower ten Slytherin students, some of whom are upperclassmen?"
He locked eyes with Snape. "Jokes aside, who would believe such an obvious lie?"
"Or," William continued, "let's put it another way—are you seriously claiming that ten Slytherin students attacked a second-year girl and are now trying to spin it as self-defense?"
William's counterattack turned the tables.
"We didn't attack her!" Malfoy roared.
Of course they hadn't. They hadn't even had time to react before they were all taken down.
But who would believe that?
Sure enough, McGonagall cast a skeptical glance at Malfoy.
Snape opened his mouth but couldn't find the right words.
He had overlooked that detail.
Snape knew Dumbledore wouldn't expel Hermione, he'd just wanted to make Stark uncomfortable.
The worst-case scenario would be a punishment and some points docked from Gryffindor.
But believe Malfoy's story?
If word got out, Slytherin would be humiliated.
Ten students couldn't handle one second-year witch?
They'd be laughed at by every other house.
Snape was a man of pride—he couldn't let that happen. That's why he was so obsessed with winning the House Cup every year.
In a moment of clarity, Snape recalled the Quidditch World Cup incident: twenty Russian fans had beaten up two hundred British fans.
And why hadn't that been reported?
Because it was just too embarrassing!