Coup de Foudre [Fred Weasley] [6]

⚡️ Chapter 43 ⚡️

They deposited Hagrid in a chair at the table. Fang, who had been skulking in his basket during the burial, now came padding softly across to them and put his heavy head into Vega's lap as usual. Slughorn uncorked one of the bottles of wine he had brought.

"I have had it all tested for poison," Slughorn assured Vega and Harry, pouring most of the first bottle into one of Hagrid's bucket-sized mugs and handing it to Hagrid. "Had a house-elf taste every bottle after what happened to your poor friend Rupert,"

Vega's expression twisted in annoyance and anger at the thought of that and she quickly looked away from them, not wanting her expression to ruin everything that they had been working on – they would miss the only chance they have of receiving this memory.

"One for Harry... one for Vega..." Slughorn said, dividing a second bottle between three mugs. "... and one for me. Well –" He raised his mug high. "– to Aragog,"

"Aragog," chorused out Vega, Harry and Hagrid together.

Both Slughorn and Hagrid drank deeply. Vega only took a small sip, recalling the time that she had tried it with Fred, and put it down. She glanced toward Harry, giving him a warning look to not drink anything as he was certainly not used to drinking at all.

Harry nodded quietly as he merely pretended to take a gulp so Slughorn could see and then set the mug back on the table before him. Vega nodded approvingly.

"I had him from an egg, yeh know," Hagrid said morosely and Vega looked over. "Tiny little thing he was when he hatched. 'Bout the size of a Pekingese,"

"Sweet," Slughorn replied.

"Used ter keep him in a cupboard up at the school until..." Hagrid went on. "Well..."

Hagrid's face darkened and Vega knew why: Tom Riddle had contrived to have Hagrid thrown out of school, blamed for opening the Chamber of Secrets. Slughorn, however, did not seem to be listening; he was looking up at the ceiling, from which a number of brass pots hung, and also a long, silky skein of bright white hair.

"That's never unicorn hair, Hagrid?" Slughorn asked.

"Oh, yeah," Hagrid replied indifferently. "Gets pulled out of their tails, they catch it on branches an' stuff in the forest, yeh know..."

"But my dear chap, do you know how much that's worth?" Slughorn asked.

"I use it fer bindin' on bandages an' stuff if a creature gets injured," Hagrid responded, shrugging. "It's dead useful... very strong, see,"

Slughorn took another deep draught from his mug, his eyes moving carefully around the cabin now, looking, Vega knew, for more treasures that he might be able to convert into a plentiful supply of oak-matured mead, crystalised pineapple, and velvet smoking jackets. Without batting an eye, Slughorn refilled Hagrid's mug and his own, and questioned him about the creatures that lived in the forest these days and how Hagrid was able to look after them all.

Hagrid, becoming expansive under the influence of the drink and Slughorn's flattering interest, stopped mopping his eyes and entered happily into a long explanation of bowtruckle husbandry. Harry gently elbowed Vega, motioning to Slughorn's drink.

The glass was emptying now and Vega knew that they needed to keep him drinking. She raised her wand and used the Refilling Charm on the glass.

Harry grinned as, unnoticed by either Hagrid or Slughorn (now swapping tales of the illegal trade in dragon eggs), they immediately began to refill their glasses while the bottle emptied a little more. Vega nodded approvingly at herself and smiled.

After an hour or so, Hagrid and Slughorn began making extravagant toasts: to Hogwarts, to Dumbledore, to elf-made wine, and to –

"Harry Potter and Vega Lestrange!" bellowed Hagrid, slopping some of his fourteenth bucket of wine down his chin as he drained it.