Hagrid turned his head and looked at Harry steadily for a while.
He reached out again and touched Harry's forehead.
"What's wrong, Hagrid?" Harry asked, puzzled.
Hagrid smiled, "Oh, I was just checking if you had a fever, talking such nonsense—honestly, unicorns behaving like that... it makes no sense that what we think is bitter, they'd find sweet."
"Really?" Harry asked skeptically. "Then why did Pabi say chocolate was sweet after eating it, when I just tried a piece and it tasted really bitter?"
"Normal unicorns can't talk either, Harry." Hagrid said, rubbing his beard.
After saying that, he took a handful of bright red berries from a basin beside him.
Harry didn't recognize these berries, so he asked as usual, "Hagrid, what are these?"
Hagrid answered with a grin, "These are the berries unicorns love to eat. I don't actually know their name—maybe I should ask Professor Sprout about them."
Harry nodded knowingly, picked up a berry about the size of his thumbnail, and put it into his mouth…
"Blimey, that's way too sweet." Harry said, wrinkling his nose. "It's as sweet as the lemon syrup in Professor Dumbledore's cup."
"Lemon syrup?" Hagrid blinked, then, realizing what Harry meant, laughed and said, "You're spot on there, Professor Dumbledore does drink lemon syrup."
"I see, Hagrid, thank you." A seed of suspicion had already been planted in Harry's mind; he was waiting for Mr. Leme's reply.
Hagrid thought for a moment, then continued, "But... Harry, I just like magical creatures, it doesn't mean I really understand them—if you want to know more, I suggest you write a letter to Mr. Scamander."
"Mr. Scamander?" Harry thought the name sounded familiar.
"You remember the book 'Where to Find Magical Creatures'?" Hagrid said. "The author of that book is Newt Scamander."
Harry realized suddenly—that's why the name sounded so familiar to him.
"So how can I find his contact information?" Harry asked, soulfully.
Hagrid got up, rummaged around on the table, and pulled out a thick copy of 'Where to Find Magical Creatures'.
He flipped to the title page, pointed to the swirling, looping handwriting there, and said, "See, it's this—write it down."
Harry felt the writing looked oddly familiar, as if he'd seen it somewhere before.
Seeing Harry spacing out, Hagrid nudged him and said, "All right, Harry, stop daydreaming—hurry and get your quill."
"No, wait." Harry said suddenly. "This handwriting—I think I've seen it somewhere before. Is this really Mr. Scamander's handwriting?"
Hagrid chuckled, patting his beard. "Of course not! That's Professor Dumbledore's handwriting—he wrote it for me, and if anyone other than you asks me, I absolutely won't tell them."
Professor Dumbledore?
Harry suddenly remembered—the note that came with the Invisibility Cloak he got last Christmas had handwriting exactly like this: swirls and circles all over.
So... was the Invisibility Cloak a gift from Professor Dumbledore?
"What's wrong, Harry?" Hagrid asked with concern.
"Oh, I was just thinking about the Invisibility Cloak from last year," Harry said honestly—he didn't want to hide anything from Hagrid. "Professor Dumbledore said on the note it was my father's keepsake... so he knew my dad."
"Of course he did." Hagrid beamed kindly. "Your dad, ah, your dad was a member of the Phoenix Society..."
Harry froze.
Wait, Phoenix Society?
"What did you say? Which society?" Harry double-checked.
"Phoenix Society, what's the matter?" Hagrid asked, a little confused. "That's the group Professor Dumbledore created back in the day to fight You-Know-Who. Your dad was the bravest wizard of them all!"
Harry opened his mouth. He wasn't sure what to say.
Phoenix Society—wasn't that the group I founded a century ago?
Seems this old schoolmate... still copies others?
"You can write your letter here," Hagrid said again. "I can help you send it. Mr. Scamander doesn't know you, but with my introduction, I'm sure he'll read your letter."
"Thanks, Hagrid," Harry nodded earnestly.
He carefully considered his words, writing out his questions about Pabi in detail, and at the end, respectfully asked for help from Mr. Scamander.
Afterwards, he carefully packed up the letter and slipped it into an envelope.
Hagrid took the envelope and signed his own name on it as well.
"Don't worry, Harry, I'll get your letter to Mr. Scamander as soon as I can." Hagrid said, giving Harry's back a hearty pat.
Maybe because Hagrid caught a cold, he didn't know his own strength—a couple pats nearly knocked Harry's lungs right out.
Soon it was the last day of October, and Hogwarts was celebrating the Halloween Feast.
Last year's Halloween, Harry had run into the giant incident.
This year things seemed much calmer at Hogwarts—besides Mrs. Loli and Colin Creevey, everyone else was healthy and gathered in the hall.
On the last day of October, he also received letters from Nicolas Flamel and Mr. Scamander.
Mr. Leme's letter explained Pabi's condition, telling Harry not to worry—maybe it was due to Magic Mage's unique circumstances.
But Mr. Scamander's reply was much more intriguing—he said... by the time Harry read the letter, he was already at Hogwarts.