Chapter 118: Earth Beetles

The next day marked the start of the Christmas holidays. After the incident with Lockhart's attack, more students than usual had chosen to return home for the break. The once-bustling castle now felt empty and still. The silence hung thickly over Hogwarts, heavy like the snow blanketing the grounds. But those who stayed behind didn't seem to mind. In fact, they seemed to enjoy the rare tranquility. On the first day of the break, the professors left together for Hogsmeade—rumor had it they were investigating the details of Lockhart's attack. Harry and Ron were playing chess in the common room. Harold, on the other hand, decided to take a walk. But after leaving the common room, he found himself instinctively heading toward the second-floor library. It took a few seconds before Harold realized what he was doing... He'd already decided not to push further into more complex Transfiguration books until he had finished digesting what he'd read so far. Hagrid had been right—you couldn't just read endlessly. Sometimes you needed to give yourself a break. So, Harold decided to go visit Hagrid instead. Outside, the grounds were covered in a thick layer of snow, making walking a bit difficult. By the time he reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest, Hagrid was just about to head out. "I heard all about it," Hagrid said, greeting Harold with a warm, encouraging smile. "Believe me, Dumbledore's not the kind to expel a student over some scribbles no one can even trace." "I'd nearly forgotten about it myself," Harold replied with a chuckle. "No one's really mentioned it to my face, and I haven't lost any sleep over it." "That's good." "Where are you headed?" Harold asked. "Off to visit Fluffy," Hagrid said, hoisting up a large metal bucket filled with bloody chunks of meat. "Tomorrow's Christmas, so I got him his favorite—elk." Harold instinctively wanted to turn back at the mention of Fluffy, but after a moment's thought, he changed his mind. "Mind if I come with you?" He wanted to try making peace with the three-headed dog. And with Hagrid by his side, there was no need to worry about safety. But Hagrid shook his head. "Can't do that. Fluffy's way deep in the forest. Students aren't allowed that far in." "But it's the holidays," Harold said. "And I already went into the forest back in first year." "That was different," Hagrid said. "That was punishment." "But I didn't think of it as punishment. It was... magical. I still remember every detail." Harold glanced toward the forest, as if recalling the sight of the unicorn spirit that had once appeared to him. "And if you're with me, nothing can go wrong, right?" "Of course not. Long as you're with me, nothing in the forest would dare touch you." Hagrid hesitated, then relented. "Alright, I'll take you. But you've got to promise—no running off like last time. You stick right beside me." Last time, Harold had vanished briefly in the forest, which had scared Hagrid half to death. Thankfully, he'd returned safe—and somehow led them straight to the dying unicorn. Hagrid never had figured out how Harold had known exactly where to go. "I promise. I'll stay close this time," Harold said. "Also... do you think we could swing by some Bowtruckle nests?" "You like Bowtruckles?" "I want to find trees they live in," Harold explained. "I'm hoping to craft a few wands over the break, but I never had time to buy wand wood this year with all the Animagus reading. "And if I try to buy some now, the owl delivery will take forever." "Why buy it at all?" Hagrid grumbled. "There's a whole bloody forest out here! More trees than magical creatures! And you're telling me you want to waste good galleons on wood?" Harold winced. "You've got a point." "Come on, then. We'll pass by a few Bowtruckle nests. I've seen those little guys plenty of times." Hagrid picked up the bucket and strode off into the forest. Harold started to follow, then paused. "Wait a sec, Hagrid—give me a few minutes." He ran over to the nearby pumpkin patch, lifted a few large stones, and collected several grayish beetles from underneath. Once done, he quickly caught up to Hagrid. "Alright, let's go." The Forbidden Forest felt far friendlier during the day. Sunlight filtered through the branches, casting golden shafts of light between the trees. Hagrid walked beside Harold, keeping him within view. "You should've said something sooner," he said, brushing aside a thick bush. "Could've picked you up a few good branches while I was collecting unicorn tail hairs." "It's a bit more complicated than that," Harold sighed. "Choosing wand wood is actually more difficult than selecting the core." "It's just wood—what's so tricky about that?" Hagrid scoffed. "Oh—here we are." They stopped in front of a massive beech tree. It was the thickest in the area, and even after last night's heavy snowfall, its branches remained lush and full of life. Between the branches, several small green creatures peered cautiously in their direction. Bowtruckles. They only lived on trees rich in magical properties—trees favored by wandmakers. Drawn by the scent of pine oil and resin from Harold's robes, a few braver Bowtruckles hopped down onto the lower branches, blinking their shiny black eyes curiously at him. "They really like you," Hagrid said in a hushed voice. "I've walked this path a hundred times, and they've never come near me." "It's the pine oil—they love the smell. It's what I use to treat wand wood. All wandmakers carry it," Harold explained. He opened his palm to reveal a squirming gray beetle. "Come on then, don't be shy," he said gently. The Bowtruckles stirred but didn't immediately jump down. Harold waited patiently. Two minutes later, one greedy little Bowtruckle leapt into his hand and scurried off with the beetle. He placed another in his palm, and this time, a second came even faster. By the third, there was a whole line forming—Bowtruckles crowding the branch, craning their heads to watch, eager for their turn. Harold was a little surprised. Who knew the Forbidden Forest had such well-behaved Bowtruckles? Once all the beetles were gone, Harold made his request. "In exchange, could you bring me a branch?" The well-fed Bowtruckles nodded and scampered up the tree. They returned shortly after, carrying a long, leafy branch nearly thirty inches in length. Together, they held it aloft and wobbled over to hand it to Harold. "Thanks," Harold said, clearly pleased. The young leaves meant it had been freshly broken off. Its size and position—probably from the treetop—meant it was from the most magically active part of the tree. It was a trade both sides were happy with. Harold and Hagrid continued deeper into the forest. "Is that really necessary?" Hagrid asked. "You need Bowtruckles to break the branch for it to work?" "Not always. But Bowtruckles will always choose the best part of the tree for you," Harold said. "Unless you're using a core from a tree trunk over a hundred years old—then any part works." Like the broom wood he'd dismantled from the Room of Requirement... but he wasn't ready to part with those. "In that case, I guess I can't help much," Hagrid said. Collecting loose branches was one thing, but interacting with tiny creatures like Bowtruckles was another. Hagrid wasn't exactly good with animals that didn't come in ten-foot sizes. Would've been easier if the little buggers were ten feet tall, honestly. On their way to Fluffy's den, they passed several more trees inhabited by Bowtruckles. Each time, Harold traded a beetle for a branch. The beetles were common—easy to find under stones in pumpkin patches and forest glades. Stones too heavy for Bowtruckles were nothing to Harold. By the time they reached the large sunken clearing where Fluffy lived, nearly two hours had passed. Harold's enchanted lizard-hide bag now held three beech branches, two oak, and five fir. And the deeper they went, the more Bowtruckles they found. But now that they were close to Fluffy's den, Harold stopped making trades and instinctively drew closer to Hagrid. The trees were denser, and the air itself seemed heavier, as if thick with danger. They hadn't yet spotted the three-headed dog, but Harold's nerves were already on edge. Suddenly, thunderous footsteps pounded from the left. Harold whipped his head around—just in time to see a sixteen-foot-tall beast charging straight at him. Three heads, all snarling, all baring dagger-like fangs. It had been a while, but Fluffy's broken tooth had clearly grown back—larger and sharper than before. The dog itself had grown, too. Its heavy paws made the ground tremble as it ran. In a blink, it was upon them. But just as it closed the distance, Fluffy caught sight of Hagrid rolling up his sleeves beside the meat bucket. And for the first time ever, Harold saw a dog—well, three dog heads—wear an unmistakable expression of panic. All three heads jerked backward in alarm. Fluffy dug its claws into the ground, leaving deep trenches, and finally skidded to a halt—by crashing into a tree. Then it licked Hagrid's arm. (End of Chapter)