The silence that followed their synchronized shout was thick, heavy with the scent of damp earth and the metallic tang of high-level magic. It wasn't the peaceful silence of a sleeping forest; it was the breathless pause of the world waiting for a collision.
Hagrid, whose knuckles were white from gripping his oversized crossbow, finally cracked. "Did... did we get 'im? Did the spell take?"
Albert didn't answer immediately. He adjusted his glasses, feeling the golden hum of the Felix Felicis vibrating in his marrow. Last time, his solo attempt at a Summoning Charm had been like trying to pull a whale with a fishing line. But this time? This time he wasn't alone. He had the gravitational pull of Albus Dumbledore and the sharp, surgical precision of Professor Smith behind him.
"Hard to say," Albert murmured, shaking his head. "Summoning a living creature of that mass across several miles of dense foliage... even for three wizards, the physics are messy. But if he's within the local ley lines, he should feel the tug."
They waited. One minute. Two. The forest remained stubbornly still. Hagrid began to pace, his boots sinking deep into the slushy snow, his lips moving in a silent prayer directed at whatever gods look after three-headed monsters.
Suddenly, a dull, crunching sound echoed from a distant gully. It wasn't the sound of something flying; it was the sound of something being dragged through an obstacle course.
"That's not a landing," Dumbledore noted, his eyes flashing with a sudden, sharp light behind his half-moon spectacles. He didn't wait for an explanation. He turned and strode toward the sound with a vigor that belied his age, his robes snapping around his ankles like a banner.
Professor Smith and Albert were half a step behind him. Albert quickly realized that the Accio hadn't quite achieved "liftoff." It had achieved "unstoppable momentum."
The snow was a nightmare to navigate at high speeds. Albert's legs, while athletic for a second-year, were still fundamentally shorter than those of the three men he was following. He was beginning to lag when a massive hand scooped him up by the back of his cloak.
"Whoa!" Albert yelped as Hagrid tucked him under one arm like a particularly expensive loaf of bread. "Hagrid, put me down! I can run!"
"Ye're too slow, lad!" Hagrid grunted, his strides covering three yards at a time. "And I ain't havin' another spider drop on yer head while we're distracted. Just hold on!"
It was the most undignified transit of Albert's life. Every step Hagrid took sent a jolt through Albert's spine, and the view was mostly Hagrid's matted coat and the blurred grey of the trees. It was bumpy, slightly nauseating, and entirely practical.
They reached the source of the noise—a massive, hollowed-out mound of earth and ancient oak roots. It looked like a small hill had been hit by a wrecking ball.
"He was hunkered down in there," Smith whispered, stepping forward to inspect the wreckage. He picked up a fragment of bone—deer, by the looks of it—and discarded it. "The Accio must have caught him while he was sleeping. He didn't fly; he was pulled through the wall of his own burrow."
Albert's face twitched. He could almost feel the headache the dog must have. Smith's fingers brushed against some jagged roots, coming away with a smear of dark, thick blood.
"The charm holds," Smith said, his voice carrying a strange, almost clinical undertone. "Even a Cerberus can't resist the combined intent of this group."
Albert watched Smith closely. There was something... off. The way Smith looked at the blood, the way he seemed to be calculating the creature's resistance—it wasn't the look of a worried teacher. It was the look of a man checking the specs on a new piece of machinery.
Legilimency? Albert wondered. He felt a cold shiver that had nothing to do with the snow. He had his Occlumency at Level 3, which usually made him feel like a fortress, but standing near Smith, he felt like the walls were made of glass.
"He's moved on," Dumbledore said, pointing to a trail of churned mud and broken saplings leading deeper into the ravine. "He's wounded and likely confused. We should finish this before he finds something else to crash into."
"One more pull should do it," Smith suggested. "Now that we've broken his 'anchor' in the burrow, he'll be easier to lift."
Albert narrowed his eyes at the professor. The suggestion was logical, but the eagerness in Smith's eyes was unsettling. Accio, Cerberus... is he trying to read my thoughts on the spell's structure? Albert tightened his mental defenses, wrapping his thoughts in layers of mundane academic trivia about runes.
"Let's do it," Albert said, shifting his gaze to Dumbledore.
The second casting was much smoother. Dumbledore took the lead, his magic acting as a conduit that channeled Albert's raw power and Smith's technical finesse into a single, focused tether. With the Elder Wand at the helm, the resistance of the beast was a joke.
"Stand clear!" Dumbledore warned.
The trees ahead parted with a violent crack. This time, Fluffy didn't just slide; he soared. The massive beast came tumbling through the air, all twelve paws paddling frantically at the empty sky. He looked less like a legendary guardian of the underworld and more like a very large, very terrified puppy.
Hagrid was a blur of motion. As the dog skidded to a halt in the clearing, Hagrid threw himself onto the central head, pinning it to the ground with his sheer bulk.
"Gotcha! Oh, ye poor, silly beast!" Hagrid cried, ignoring the fact that the left head was currently trying to eat his belt. "Look at yeh! Scratched up and starvin'!"
Albert approached cautiously, keeping a safe distance from the snapping jaws and the overwhelming stench of wet fur and carrion. The dog was a mess—blood matted its fur where the burrow roots had scraped it, and its breathing was a ragged, three-toned wheeze.
"He looks miserable," Albert noted, his mouth twitching as he watched Hagrid affectionately slap the dog's restless heads.
"He's just misunderstood," Hagrid insisted, looking up at Dumbledore with watery eyes. "He's gettin' thin, Albus. Look at 'im! He hasn't had a proper meal in days."
Dumbledore conjured three heavy, enchanted collars with a flick of his wand. "Put these on him, Hagrid. And take him to Sylvanus. He'll need more than a scrap of meat to fix those gashes."
"Can I... can I keep him till he's grown?" Hagrid pleaded. "Just a few more months? I promise I'll build the enclosure stronger. I won't let 'im out again."
Dumbledore looked at the dog, then at Hagrid, and finally at Albert. He seemed to be weighing the future—the stone, the trials, the boy who lived. "Very well, Hagrid. But he stays under lock and key. If he so much as sniffs a student, he goes back to Greece on the next ship."
"I'll keep an eye on him too, sir," Albert volunteered. "Safety first."
"As will I," Smith added, his eyes never leaving the Cerberus. "It's a fascinating creature. Truly."
As Hagrid began the arduous task of leading the limping, whimpering giant back toward Kettleburn's cabin, Albert and Smith started their walk back to the castle. The Felix Felicis was still singing in Albert's veins, making every word he spoke feel like a masterstroke of diplomacy.
"Professor Smith," Albert said as they crossed the stone bridge. "I've actually been making some progress on those ancient runes we discussed. I think I've found the frequency for the Ravenclaw Chamber's secondary seal."
Smith stopped in his tracks, his entire demeanor shifting from professional curiosity to intense, focused hunger. "You have? Truly? That's... that's spectacular, Albert."
"I'm going to try a trial run tonight," Albert said with a confident smile. "I'm not 100% sure the sequence will hold, but the logic seems sound."
"If at first you don't succeed, try again," Smith encouraged, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. "The rewards of such a discovery... they would change everything for a young wizard like you."
Albert nodded, his expression the picture of innocent ambition. Change everything indeed, he thought. The Liquid Luck was telling him exactly what Smith wanted to hear, and exactly how to lead the "collector" right into a trap of his own making. 🏰📖🗝️