Who in the wizarding world would refuse to raise a dragon? Hagrid certainly wouldn't. And as for his grumpy disposition... so what? Children are supposed to be a little mischievous, after all. Being sent back by the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary only proves those people are incompetent. Just look at how scrawny they are, like walking twigs—how could they possibly manage to raise a dragon properly?
"Alright, if you become a professor..." Kyle began.
"No problem!" Hagrid interrupted before Kyle could finish. With a wave of his hand, he said, "I agree to the bet."
He didn't even stop to consider whether Kyle could actually convince Newt, or whether Dumbledore would allow a dragon at Hogwarts. He just agreed right away.
It almost seemed like Hagrid was worried Kyle might change his mind, as he quickened his pace, leading the three of them—who had to jog to keep up—towards the Mooncalf's cave.
"You lot stay here, don’t go any further," Hagrid said seriously, turning back to the group. "Mooncalves tire themselves out when they dance, so they need plenty of rest during the day. You’ve got to be as quiet as possible."
Kanna and Cedric nodded quietly, their eyes curiously fixed on the cave entrances that looked like tents.
The Mooncalves didn’t interest him; he’d seen them countless times with Newt. His attention had shifted to the Wiggentrees surrounding them.
Compared to other places, the Wiggentrees here were tall, thick, and stretched high into the sky. Kyle approached one and knocked on its trunk, which sounded solid and firm.
Noticing Kyle's actions, Hagrid whispered an explanation. “Because Mooncalves stomp their droppings into the ground, Wiggentrees grow really well around them. By the way, this is also a Bowtruckle’s nest.”
Kyle glanced up and soon spotted countless "little green seedlings" scattered throughout the Wiggentrees. It was exactly like what Newt had shown him. In that magical suitcase, the Bowtruckles and Mooncalves were neighbors.
Kyle picked up a branch from the ground. “Hagrid, can I collect some branches?”
“You can, but what do you need them for?”
“I’ve got some ideas.”
When they emerged from the Forbidden Forest, Hagrid was carrying a large bundle of dead branches in his hands. Kyle had wanted to use the Floating Charm to help, but Hagrid found that unnecessary and insisted on carrying them himself.
Once they exited the forest, Cedric headed back to the castle for his classes, leaving Kyle and Kanna behind. Unlike their previous visit, Hagrid warmly invited the two of them to stop by his cabin.
As soon as they entered, a big black dog came bounding toward them, tongue hanging out and tail wagging furiously like a fan. Kyle reached down and gave the dog's head a good scratch, nearly rolling his eyes in pleasure. It felt great.
“Alright, Fang, come here,” Hagrid called, placing a greyish pot on the floor. Fang immediately rushed over, diving into the pot with excitement. Hagrid patted his head and said, “Eat slowly, there’s more if you need it.”
As they chatted, Kyle glanced around the cabin. The space was small, consisting of a single room. A ham hung from the ceiling, along with a pheasant, and a brazier with a copper kettle sat boiling water. In one corner was a large bed covered with ragged quilting. The room looked rather shabby, inconspicuous at best.
But Kyle noticed something else. The ham was made from Tebo warthog, and the “rope” used to hang it appeared to be a shiny, white silk—likely from an Acromantula spider. And the cushion they were sitting on? It was made from Unicorn hair. Though not entirely tail hair, it was still an impressively luxurious cushion—the most expensive one Kyle had ever sat on.
Once Hagrid sat down, Kyle introduced them. “This is Kanna, and the one who just left is Cedric. They're both Hufflepuffs like me, but Cedric’s a second year.”
“Hello,” Hagrid greeted Kanna warmly. He then handed both her and Kyle a piece of rock cake from the plate next to him. “You must be hungry. Try some of my cooking.”
Kanna picked up the rock cake, only to feel its unexpected weight, as though she were holding a brick. She blinked, wisely choosing not to take a bite. Kyle refrained from eating as well, but he cleverly asked Hagrid for another piece, saying he would share it with Cedric later.
Hagrid, delighted by this, generously handed Kyle the entire plate of rock cakes and encouraged him to come back for more anytime. Kyle, of course, didn’t want them, so he took only two and stuffed them into his pocket. He wasn’t planning on eating them either; even if they tasted decent, without a Giant's teeth, they were practically inedible. However, they might prove useful for self-defense.
Lately, Snape had been pushing him to his limit, and Kyle felt on the verge of a breakdown. If worse came to worst, the rock cakes would make an excellent tool for self-preservation. He could always claim he offered Professor Snape a rock cake, but Snape had simply failed to catch it.
After handing back the plate, Hagrid looked at Kyle, an awkward expression on his face. “Well, I’ve got this dog, but he’s been a bit sluggish lately, not eating much. What do you think could be wrong?”
Kyle instinctively glanced at Fang, who was eagerly devouring his second bowl of food. Lacking energy? No appetite?
It couldn’t be Fang, so Kyle looked back at Hagrid, puzzled.
Hagrid quickly clarified. “Not Fang, the other dog.”
“Oh...” Kyle realized Hagrid was talking about the Three-Headed Dog.
Kyle looked around the cabin but didn’t see any sign of the creature. “Didn’t I tell you before?” Kyle said, turning back to Hagrid. “You just need to let him loose in the Forbidden Forest.”
“I did, but it didn’t work,” Hagrid replied, sounding a bit frustrated. “He perked up while he was out there, but as soon as I brought him back to the cabin, he became sluggish again.”
Kyle was momentarily speechless. Hagrid’s unique way of thinking never failed to amaze him. Did he really believe he was just walking a regular dog—and then bringing it back here?
“Hagrid, the Three-Headed Dog...” Kyle began.
“Just one head! Just one head!” Hagrid interrupted, denying it frantically.
Kyle took a deep breath, ignoring Hagrid’s protests, and continued, “The Three-Headed Dog is a large magical creature that naturally prefers open, spacious environments. If they’re kept in a small, low-ceilinged space for too long, they start to feel depressed.”
“It’s not small in here,” Hagrid muttered defensively.
“Well, it’s fine for you,” Kyle explained patiently. “But within a year, a Three-Headed Dog can grow to three meters tall, and its body can stretch over five meters in length. By then, it’ll barely be able to turn around in here.”