Whatever Comes (Demma Book 1)

Through The Trapdoor

Dateline: June 4th, 1992

In years to come, both Harry and Hermione would never remember how they'd managed to get through their exams when they half expected Voldemort to come back to power at any moment. They had to be given special quills for their exams, which had been bewitched with an Anti-Cheating spell. They also had practical exams as well; Professor Flitwick called them one by one by one into his class to see if they could make a pineapple tap-dance across a desk. McGonagall watched them turn a mouse into a snuffbox, and points were given for how pretty the snuffbox was. Points would be deducted, however, if the box had whiskers. Snape had nervous students as they tried to remember the ingredients to make a Forgetfulness Potion. Their last exam, however, was History of Magic with Professor Binns. He's a ghost and Harry, and most of the other students fell asleep in that class because he made the lesson boring. Hermione even had to slap him with her book to ensure that he needs to stay awake and pay attention to the class. This exam was an hour of answering questions about batty old wizards who'd invented self-stirring cauldrons. After a long hour, they would be free for a whole week until their exam results come out on the 11th. Harry and Hermione just got out of History of Magic and are walking down in the courtyard.

"I'd always heard Hogwarts' end-of-the-year exams were frightful, but I've found that rather enjoyable," said Hermione.

"You could say that aga- ARGH!" said Harry, rubbing his forehead.

"You all right?" said Hermione, feeling the same pain in her head.

"My scar. It keeps burning."

"It hasn't happened before..."

"Not like this."

"Perhaps we should go to the nurse."

"I think it's a warning. It means danger's coming, probably lurking nearby."

Harry and Hermione were sure that unsettled feeling didn't have anything to do with work, however. They watched an owl flutter toward the school across the sky and a note clamped in its mouth. Hagrid was the only one who ever sent them letters. He would never betray Dumbledore. Hagrid would never tell anyone how to get past Fluffy...never...but... Harry and Hermione jumped to their feet at a look of realization.

"Oh! Of course! Hermione, don't you think it's a bit odd that what Hagrid wants more than anything is a dragon, and a stranger comes up and just happens to have one?"

"Yes! I mean, how many people walk around with dragon eggs in their pockets? Why didn't we see it before?"

Harry and Hermione bolted towards Hagrid's Hut, where he was playing a familiar tune.

"Hagrid, who gave you the dragon egg? What did he look like?" asked Harry.

"I dunno. I never saw his face. He kept his hood up."

"This stranger, though, you knew he must've talked," said Hermione.

"Well, he- he wanted to know what sort of creatures I looked after. So, I told him, I said, after Fluffy, a dragon's gonna be no problem."

"Did he seem interested in Fluffy?"

"Well, o' course he was interested in Fluffy! How often do you come across a three-headed dog, even when you're in the trade? But I told 'im, I said, I said, 'The trick to any beast is to know how to calm 'im. Take Fluffy, for example, just play him a but o' music, and he falls straight to sleep.' I shouldn't have told you that."

Harry and Hermione left Hagrid's Hut while ignoring the sounds of Hagrid, 'Where are you going? Wait!' and headed towards Professor McGonagall's office on the first floor. They bolted into the room and saw the Professor at her desk, grading the exams.