Chapter 49: Finding a Wife for Scabbers
"What Three-Headed Dog? I've never owned Fluffy!" Hagrid burst out, sounding agitated, as if someone had pressed the accelerator on his temper. Even the roots of his beard seemed to tremble. Pointing at Kyle, Hagrid jumped up and down in a fluster, exclaiming, "How can you go around slandering someone's good name for no reason!"
"Oh," Kyle said, as if a sudden realization dawned on him, "so his name is Fluffy. That's not a bad name, actually."
Hagrid's expression froze for a moment before he quickly denied it. "I didn't... I didn't say anything. You must've heard wrong."
He was clearly rattled and didn't dare admit the truth. Out of everyone at Hogwarts, Kyle was the last person Hagrid wanted to discover Fluffy's existence—even more so than Dumbledore. The reason was simple: Kyle's father, Chris, worked as the deputy director of the Magical Creatures Management and Control Department Beast Division.
His office was in charge of regulating magical creatures of unknown origin, like Fluffy. If Kyle sent word home about the three-headed dog, Fluffy would certainly be confiscated, and Hagrid had no idea what would happen to him after that. Worse still, Hagrid himself might end up in Azkaban.
The thought of Fluffy being taken away, possibly killed, combined with the terrifying prospect of Azkaban, made cold sweat break out on Hagrid's forehead. "No, I absolutely can't admit it," he resolved, trying to remain calm.
Hagrid put on what he thought was a stern, intimidating face, hoping to scare Kyle away. Given his towering height of over three meters, his burly frame alone could be quite menacing. Unfortunately, his darting eyes and the obvious sweat dripping from his brow undermined the effect.
Kyle had to suppress a laugh. If it weren't for Hagrid's nerves, maybe I'd believe him, he thought.
"Alright, I must've heard wrong, and obviously, you don't have a three-headed dog," Kyle said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Let's just consider this a bit of trivia. Goodbye, Hagrid."
He turned to walk away, but after a few steps, he stopped, glanced over his shoulder, and said, "Oh, by the way, if your puppy starts showing signs of loss of appetite, irritability, or depression, don't worry. Just let him roam the Forbidden Forest for a bit. That should do the trick."
Kyle's words hit Hagrid like a ton of bricks, and though Kyle didn't push the subject further, Hagrid's face paled. Still, Kyle wasn't in a hurry—he could always meet Fluffy next year when the creature would be locked up on the fourth floor. And then, he could observe the beast as much as he liked, maybe even pull a hair or two for good measure. He could knit a sock with it, for all he cared.