In the entire wizarding world, there were probably very few houses that could compare to Hagrid's in terms of luxury.
Even though it was only a shabby wooden hut, its construction cost was enough to make anyone choke in disbelief.
This was what one would call low-key luxury with deep cultural value, Hagrid's hut.
Its refinement was so well-hidden that even Lucius Malfoy nearly failed to notice it… until one day, a certain talent scout named Slughorn appeared and revealed the beauty hidden beneath the surface.
Good steeds are common, but true discerning eyes are rare.
Before that professor showed up, this treasure was like a fine jade sealed in stone, covered in dust, hidden, unappreciated.
But Allen had no intention of playing appraiser right now.
Hagrid wasn't home, and unlike those lawless spiders, Allen wasn't an RPG protagonist who just rummaged through people's belongings like it was normal.
…Although starting a fire and roasting something did sound kind of tempting.
Just as Allen was leaning against the hut and considering this, a figure suddenly appeared in the vegetable patch not far away.
Allen's reaction was swift, before the figure fully materialized, several spells shot straight toward them.
But none of them worked.
The moment the figure lifted their wand, a faint golden shield shimmered into existence. Allen's spells struck it and were effortlessly deflected.
That surprised Allen.
Even though he didn't specialize in traditional wizard spells, compared to his focus on system inheritances, his level was still easily sixth-year standard.
But if the first attempt didn't work, use the second wave.
The ground surged upward as vines rose like a green tide, weaving together into a massive net that lunged toward the figure.
Unfortunately, Dumbledore was not someone one could simply restrain.
Right before the vines reached him, the sections closest to the shimmering shield began to wither, then crumbled into ash.
And yet, before the net fully disintegrated, vibrant flowers suddenly bloomed along the vines, followed immediately by dozens of sickly green fruits bursting open.
BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!!
A rain of needle-like shards sprayed outward, coated in a venomous sheen.
Just one look told you it was absolutely poisonous.
But even these had no effect.
Before the needles reached him, a wave of heat burst outward from the shield, incinerating them into dust mid-air.
Releasing these spells left Allen briefly mana-drained.
These spells were serious mana hogs, no fuel, no firepower.
But that was fine, this was Hogwarts territory, and Valor ¹ had already arrived.
If you can't win alone, group fight, that's just good teamwork.
However, just as Allen summoned more plants to stall for time,
A familiar voice spoke:
"Allen, I understand your caution. But I don't think you need to be so tense. After all, this is my school, I am responsible for every single student, oh?"
His words cut off.
Because a flame spell, one that Allen and Annie designed specifically to pierce magical shields, shot straight through the golden barrier.
Dumbledore extinguished it in time…
But soot still covered his face.
The silence was painfully awkward.
Meanwhile Allen's mind was racing:
I just blasted the Headmaster in the face.
What do I do?
Urgent.
Waiting online.
Help.
Fortunately, Dumbledore was not someone who cared about such trivial matters.
He laughed lightly, tapped his face with his wand, and the soot vanished instantly.
"Well now, Allen, you're the first person after my old friend to manage to injure me, even a little."
He said this jokingly, trying to ease the tension. But Allen noticed when Dumbledore said old friend, his expression shifted, just for a moment.
Did he remember something sad…?
Allen did not intend to ask.
Many people died because they "knew too much."
He had no plans to join them.
Dumbledore wasn't the type to ramble emotionally then kill the listener to "protect secrets."
He had come to Hagrid's hut for a legitimate reason, Hagrid had informed him that the centaurs wanted to speak with the Headmaster. Since the message couldn't include details, Dumbledore came to ask Hagrid first.
While Allen and Dumbledore talked, voices sounded from the distance, and the owner of the hut had returned.
Seeing Allen safe, the group rushed over, excitedly asking what happened with the centaurs.
Allen didn't know either.
They just kneeled like he was the main character of some destiny prophecy novel.
What was he supposed to do?
He was confused too!
Friendship doesn't come free.
This was a monetary society.
They thought a single bow could make them his allies?
What a joke.
He'd seen scams like that before.
"Congratulations! You've won millions! But also, our son/daughter was arrested and needs bail!"
Yeah. No.
They weren't even trying.
Amateurs.
While everyone argued, Dumbledore simply listened quietly, smiling and showing no particular reaction.
And for some reason…
Allen felt a chill.
The centaurs were probably about to lose a lot.
But that wasn't his problem.
He needed to sell his spider venom while no one was paying attention.
After the explanation ended, Dumbledore asked Hagrid to escort them back.
By the time Allen returned to his dorm, it was already deep into the night.
He fell onto his bed heavily and closed his eyes.
Tomorrow… will definitely be better.
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