0544 Hagrid's Wisdom

The ancient wooden beams of Hagrid's cozy hut creaked softly as Harry settled into the oversized chair. Hagrid had always been among one of their most trusted friends and Harry, feeling the weight of recent events pressing heavily upon his shoulders, found himself unable to keep his thoughts contained any longer.

After Hagrid asked the question, Harry's words came tumbling out like a rushing stream, his voice rising and falling with emotion as he recounted everything that had happened over the past week.

He described in raw detail about how Ron's behavior had shifted dramatically since Hermione's unexpected selection as Triwizard champion - the cold shoulders, the bitter glances, the weird silences that had replaced their usual friendship. His voice grew more intense as he reached the part about Sirius's recent revelation which finally revealed the dark corners of Ron's peculiar behavior for him.

The firelight caught the glint of frustration in Harry's eyes as he expressed his rising indignation towards Hermione, his words were sharp in disappointment that she had chosen to remain silent about Ron's behavior when she had clearly noticed something was amiss.

Hermione who would usually be quick to defend herself with logical arguments and well-reasoned explanations, now sat in an uncharacteristic silence, her bushy hair fell forward to shield her face as she hung her head in evident distress. Beside her, Fréodom, however, was looking at Harry strangely, as if contemplating about throwing him out of the hut.

"Now, don't you go stirring up trouble, little one," Hagrid warned Fréodom in his gruff voice while his beetle-black eyes were glinting with concern. He heaved a weary sigh and his massive frame shifted as he leaned forward in his chair.

"Harry, I want you to really think about what you're suggesting here. What exactly do you reckon Hermione should've done differently? This whole mess started the moment her name came out of that Goblet, didn't it? She knew full well there was nothing she could do or say that would make Ron happy about it, and just look at what happened when you finally discovered what Ron's been thinking all this time.

Did you stop to consider that maybe, just maybe, Hermione was trying to protect you both? Do you honestly think she wanted to watch her two best friends tear each other apart? Of all people, she's the one who's been hurting the most through all of this—"

As he spoke, Hagrid's enormous hand came to rest gently on Hermione's trembling shoulder with gentle touch despite his incredible strength.

Fresh tears were streaming down Hermione's cheeks as she fumbled with a handkerchief, the scene was similar to that of the previous year when Ron had mistakenly thought Crookshanks had killed Scabbers, she would come here to confide in him, often crying.

The sight of Hermione's obvious distress triggered an uncomfortable tightness in Harry's chest. His mouth opened and closed several times, and the harsh words of blame he had been ready to release died on his tongue. Instead, he redirected his anger, and spitted out with renewed venom, "This is all Ron's fault - he's being nothing but a complete idiot!"

"That's enough of that, Harry—" Hagrid's response was sharp despite his obvious reluctance to scold him, his massive beard was stiffening as he spoke. "Anyone who raises their fists against their friends is acting the fool, make no mistake. But don't go thinking you're innocent in all this - both you and Ron have made your share of mistakes here."

Hagrid's words triggered an immediate flashback to Ron's heated accusations on the castle grounds earlier. Harry practically leaped from his seat, eager to explain his side, but Hagrid's enormous hand waved away his protests before they could begin.

"I know exactly what you're about to say, Harry," Hagrid continued, his dark eyes reflecting weariness. "From where you're standing, Ron's jealousy of your fame and Hermione's status as a champion seems completely ridiculous. You're friends, after all, and neither you nor Hermione asked for any of this attention. But have you stopped to consider that Ron's been shouldering burdens he could have chosen to walk away from?"

"What exactly do you mean by that?" Harry's brow furrowed deeply, while Hermione remained motionless beside him, her silence telling she had already anticipated the direction of Hagrid's thoughts.

"Think about it, you two little ones," Hagrid continued, his voice rumbling as he settled more comfortably in his enormous chair. "Since the very first day you both stepped through those castle gates, Ron's been right there beside you. One of you is the 'Boy Who Lived—'"

Hagrid's eyes flickered meaningfully toward Harry. " —while the other's brilliance has earned the admiration of every professor in the school. And there's Ron, standing in the shadows cast by both of you, watching as everyone's eyes simply pass over him. Has he ever once complained about it? Has he ever made you feel guilty about it?"

The fire crackled in the hearth, casting twirling shadows across the rough wooden walls as Hagrid's words hung heavy in the air.

"Harry, have you ever considered that Ron's life might be simpler if he chose to spend his time with Seamus and Dean instead? You know the Weasleys' situation better than most." Hagrid's voice softened with compassion. "After spending his entire life being overlooked at home, why should Ron be expected to silently accept the same fate at school? And let me tell you something - that boy's got real talent of his own. Remember that chess game in your first year? The one you told me about? Not many fully grown wizards could have managed that, let alone a first-year student!"

Throughout Hagrid's emotional speech, Harry's mind had latched onto one particularly troubling detail - the possibility of Ron abandoning their friendship in favor of Dean and Seamus. His stomach churned at the thought, and when he spoke, his voice came out heated and raw with emotion. "Well, it certainly looks like that's exactly what he's trying to do!" The words tasted bitter on his tongue, and his heart twisted painfully in his chest.

Hagrid spread his massive hands in a gesture of frustration, nearly knocking over a copper kettle in the process.

"Don't you see what I'm getting at here? You share some responsibility for how Ron's feeling. You've never properly acknowledged his struggles - worse, you've never even noticed them. But did Ron ever throw that in your face? No, he kept it all bottled up inside, bearing it quietly. And now, with Hermione being chosen as champion..." Hagrid shook his head sadly, his wild hair catching the firelight. "It was the final straw, wasn't it? Both his best friends achieving fame, while he remains in the background, forgotten."

"But that's not our fault!" Harry exploded, jumping to his feet with such force that his chair scraped loudly against the floor. His voice dripped with sarcasm as he continued, "Oh, sure, if he'd like to be an orphan or have a dark wizard conspiring to kill him every year, maybe he could become famous too!"

"How are you still not seeing the point?" Hagrid's patience was wearing thin now, his voice growing as rough as his appearance. "Now you know Ron's pressure is real - not just some dramatic act he's putting on. So I'll ask you again: why should he have to bear the weight of being your friend? He could have walked away the moment he realized what it would mean, but he didn't. Isn't it obvious that Ron values the friendship more than his own comfort?"

Hagrid's words cut through the air like a knife, each one striking home with uncomfortable precision.

"Ron never breathed a word about his struggles because he wanted to preserve your friendship. Yes, he's having some issues lately, but isn't that normal? You can't expect someone - especially an underage wizard - to always maintain such noble principles. He was bound to need to release that pressure eventually—"

The hut fell into a suffocating silence, broken only by the occasional popping sounds from the Blast-Ended Skrewts in their boxes against the wall.

Harry stood rigidly, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles had turned white. The anger still coursed through him, but it had nowhere to go now, deflated by the weight of Hagrid's words.

For the first time, he was forced to confront an uncomfortable truth - he had never once considered that being friends with him and Hermione might have placed an additional burden on Ron's shoulders.

When Harry finally spoke, each word seemed to cost him great effort and his voice became tight with suppressed emotion. "So, what you're saying is that this is actually Hermione's and my fault then?"

"Now, I never said that—" Hagrid's voice had returned to its usual gentle rumble as he visibly worked to calm his own agitated emotions. "Ron's behavior isn't right - pushing you both away because of Hermione's selection as champion isn't the answer. But what I'm trying to help you understand, Harry, is that this didn't come out of nowhere. Ron needs time to sort through his feelings. Once he does, I believe you'll all find your way back to each other. That's far better than what you're doing now - demanding to know why he's not living up to some impossible standard of nobility—"

The echo of Ron's earlier words suddenly rang in Harry's ears with clarity: 'Don't you dare act like you're the only noble one here, Potter!'

Harry's face grew stiff with the realization, and suddenly the air in the hut felt suffocating. His eyes sought out Hermione, guilt clouding his expression as another revelation struck him.

Earlier, when she had desperately tried to catch up with him in the secret passage, was this what she had been trying to tell him? Had she been holding back, trying to give Ron the space and time he needed to work through his feelings?

'So, had he, in his 'righteous' anger, actually been the one to make everything worse?'

"What do you think we should do now, Hagrid?" Hermione's voice, though quiet, seemed to fill the entire hut. When she finally raised her head, her eyes were still glistening with tears, causing Fréodom to let out a sympathetic whimper behind her.

"I can't give you a perfect answer to that—" Hagrid heaved another mighty sigh as he made his way to the old cast-iron stove, his massive figure blocking most of the light as he carefully adjusted the damper valve with his thick finger.

"But if you're asking my advice, I'd say don't go rushing off to find Ron just yet. You all need time to think about what friendship truly means. Once everyone's had a chance to calm down properly, maybe then you can have the kind of conversation Sirius suggested--"

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair, anxiety and insecurity gnawing at his insides. A new fear had taken root in his mind - what if Ron actually decided their friendship wasn't worth the trouble anymore?

According to Hagrid's logic, walking away might actually make Ron's life easier. Yet Harry's anger hadn't completely subsided - couldn't Ron have chosen a better time for this crisis? Surely, he must realize how crucial this period was for Hermione!

"Oh yes, speaking of which, Hermione—" Hagrid's tone shifted to one of grandfatherly concern as he turned his attention to her, clearly deciding they'd discussed the friendship drama enough for one evening. "How are your tournament preparations coming along?"

Hermione sniffed several times, trying to compose herself before responding. "I've been researching previous Triwizard Tournaments from centuries ago," she explained, her voice still slightly wobbly but gaining strength as she focused on the academic aspects. "I've found some information about past tasks, though I'm not sure how helpful it will be. They probably won't repeat the same challenges."

"This little one's been worried sick about you!" Hagrid gave Fréodom's head a gentle poke. "It's a shame they don't allow helpers in the tournament - you could have taken it with you as your partner--"

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