Harry Potter: The Lion of the Serpent House

Harry couldn't confide his anger toward Dumbledore to his closest friends—Zabini, Azrael, and Farkas. Mentioning it would mean revealing his Muggle upbringing, a dull topic he wanted to avoid. As a Slytherin, Harry clung to a stubborn pride, wanting to stand as their equal.

Since starting Hogwarts, Harry had studied to become a great wizard like Dumbledore. Even now, he wouldn't compromise his thirst for knowledge. But was it still to emulate Dumbledore? The headmaster was both a revered figure and the hated man who'd condemned Harry to a miserable life. Sometimes, Harry fantasized about cursing Dumbledore's crooked nose.

Hagrid, who'd saved Harry and earned his deepest trust, and the professors Harry admired all trusted Dumbledore. That stung. Unwilling to resent Hagrid or the others, Harry couldn't share his turmoil with them either.

Instead, he chose Sirius. Harry sent an owl with a letter confessing his resentment toward Dumbledore, asking what Sirius would do if someone he despised faced misfortune. He didn't mention the Philosopher's Stone.

(Sirius will understand. He'll have an answer.)

Harry was certain Sirius harbored his own grudge against Dumbledore. Though they'd only met once and corresponded by letter, Sirius had cared enough to visit him. Next to Hagrid, he was the adult Harry trusted most, and Harry awaited his reply with desperate hope.

Days later, Sirius's response arrived, its words striking Harry deeply.

"I get it, Harry. Your hatred for Dumbledore—I felt that in prison, hating everything," Sirius wrote.

Reading this, Harry felt sympathy and guilt. While he was free from Dudley at school, Sirius had suffered in Azkaban.

"But I can't badmouth Dumbledore. Your hardships are my fault for not earning others' trust," Sirius continued.

He admitted he wasn't the flawless hero the Daily Prophet portrayed, nor universally liked. "When your father named me your godfather, people probably doubted I was fit for it. If Dumbledore thought so, that's on me, not him."

Sirius's words were measured, mature, making him seem like a true adult in Harry's eyes.

"Adults mirror others' actions, Harry. They're busy, with little time. Someone like me, with a bad reputation, isn't trusted in a pinch. So, be good, Harry."

Harry recalled Snape's worsening mood toward him, likely sparked by his rule-breaking.

"Your parents fought alongside me in the resistance, so they trusted me. Dumbledore did too, letting me join the Order," Sirius wrote, urging Harry to trust himself if he couldn't trust Dumbledore.

"It's normal to not want to help someone you hate. I wouldn't have, back then," Sirius admitted, understanding Harry's heart without dismissing it, gently guiding him.

"But thinking that way means you've got a conscience urging you to help. I'm proud you're like James and Lily—good at heart."

Sirius often praised Harry as Gryffindor-like or like his parents, stirring unease.

(I can't even talk to them anymore.)

The letter ended: "Whatever you choose, I'm on your side. Write anytime. Your godfather, Sirius."

(I don't want to betray him.)

Had any adult ever believed in Harry so unconditionally? Bolstered by Sirius's words, Harry pondered his path.

No matter how cruelly Dumbledore treated him, the headmaster didn't deserve to lose what was his. Even if Dumbledore hoarded the Stone, Harry had no right to judge. Stealing it, as Zabini jokingly suggested, wasn't an option either. If Asclepius were frail, Harry might've considered it, but his snake was healthy, and Harry, using his Parseltongue, ensured it stayed that way.

To protect himself and the Stone, Harry resolved to study Charms harder. As he ate breakfast, Ron approached from the Gryffindor table.

"Morning, Harry, and…" Ron trailed off, catching Zabini's subtle signal to ignore him. Zabini, like Azrael and Farkas, avoided seeming friendly with Ron or Hermione around other Slytherins.

Ron understood. "Dunno who that is, but I need to talk to Harry. Hagrid sent a letter. Wants you to come to his hut."

"Hagrid? That's rare," Harry said, reading the note in Hagrid's scrawl about something amazing at his hut.

"Shocked me too," Ron said. "Let's go this weekend." He returned to his table.

Farkas looked worried. "Harry, isn't it risky going off-campus when someone's targeting you?"

Slytherins often prioritized self-preservation, a trait Harry valued as caution. Farkas's concern balanced Harry's impulsiveness.

"With Hagrid right there, who'd dare attack?" Zabini countered.

Harry nodded. Hagrid would face any dark wizard to protect students.

"Yeah, makes sense," Farkas conceded.

Azrael chimed in. "Hagrid's banned from magic, though. Better be careful, Harry."

"Right, I'll bring the Invisibility Cloak just in case," Harry said. "Why's he banned, though?"

"Heard he got his wand snapped for breaking the law," Azrael said.

"Malfoy says Hagrid's mocked by Slytherins because he was expelled," Zabini added.

"Doesn't change that he's my savior," Harry said firmly. "I don't care."

Azrael shrugged. "Fair. Just stay cautious. Hagrid's good, but that doesn't guarantee safety."

Harry would soon feel the weight of those words.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

A floorboard in Hagrid's hut cracked sharply. The splintered wood flew toward Harry and the others, who levitated it aside with a spell.

"Norbert's a rough baby," Harry said with a laugh.

"Like Dudley."

But his green eyes, behind glasses, betrayed exhaustion.

Hagrid's "amazing" thing was a dragon egg—the coolest, most famous magical creature. Dragons, with near-impenetrable scales, powerful fire magic, and unmatched claws, were the most dangerous and difficult to raise, their flight making them nearly untamable.

Shown the egg, Harry instantly wanted to report it to McGonagall. Hermione noted dragon breeding required a license Hagrid didn't have. Even if Hagrid could manage, improper care risked killing Norbert.

If Ron hadn't suggested his brother take the dragon, Harry's friendship with Hagrid might've fractured.

Until Ron's brother arrived, Harry, Ron, and Hermione tried caring for the hatched dragon, Norbert. Unsurprisingly, first-years couldn't handle it. Norbert saw them as threats, attacking on sight.

"Where'd you get this, Hagrid?" Harry asked.

"'Get' sounds harsh, Harry. I won it fair in a bet," Hagrid beamed.

The trio exchanged glances. Harry hadn't invited Zabini, unwilling to drag friends into this mess.

"They probably chose Hagrid to hide poaching evidence," Hermione whispered.

"Hagrid, know anything about the guy who gave you the egg?" Ron asked. "Charlie could catch him."

"Dunno. Wore a hood, hid his face. Young bloke, maybe," Hagrid said, admitting he was drunk and couldn't recall details.

"But he was keen on magical creatures. Said he liked Cerberus! Humble lad for a young'un…"

First-years didn't take Care of Magical Creatures; it was an elective for third-years and up.

"Hagrid, you didn't tell him how to handle a Cerberus, did you?" Harry asked nervously.

His fears were confirmed.

"Told him a bit of flute-playing does the trick. He was thrilled," Hagrid said.

Harry didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The mysterious poacher had clearly targeted Hagrid, extracting how to tame Fluffy.

A noise outside the hut interrupted them. Wand in hand, Harry checked and saw Draco Malfoy sprinting back to the castle.

Draco's report reached McGonagall, who showed no mercy. For sneaking off-campus, Harry and Draco each lost fifty points for Slytherin—a hundred total—and faced detention. Gryffindor fared worse: Ron, Hermione, and even Neville, caught wandering after forgetting the password, cost their house a hundred fifty points, toppling them from the House Cup lead.

Mental care provided by Sirius.