Chapter 35: Lying Through One's Teeth
Tamara stepped into the narrow, sweltering hut, thick with strange smells.
Hams and pheasants hung from the ceiling, and a heap of ragged blankets lay in one corner.
"Woof!"
Before she could find a remotely clean place to stand, a huge black boarhound burst from the corner.
Fang.
He launched himself at her at once, planting his front paws on her shoulders while an enormous wet tongue lunged for her face.
"Down, Fang!" Hagrid bellowed.
Tamara went perfectly still.
That was drool.
Dog drool.
Tamara could not tolerate the slightest trace of something so stupid and foul smelling on her body. She felt her sanity teetering on the brink.
For one blazing instant, she wanted to flick her wand and send the dog flying across the hut.
But the system panel still displayed [Hagrid Favorability: Cold], so she forced herself to endure it.
Tilting her head just enough to avoid the tongue, she extended one finger and pressed it to Fang's forehead in what looked like a gentle stroke but was, in truth, a firm shove.
"What a... lively creature."
She forced the compliment through clenched teeth.
"It seems you've raised him very well."
Hagrid hauled Fang back, and at that, his expression softened a little.
"Sit down, all of yeh, sit."
He poured tea into cups that looked only half washed, then set down a plate piled high with things that appeared to have been quarried rather than baked.
"Made rock cakes," Hagrid said proudly. "Best eaten hot."
Harry and Ron's faces changed immediately.
They had clearly suffered this experience before.
"Thanks, Hagrid," Harry said, picking one up and pretending to eat it while secretly testing whether his teeth would survive.
Tamara stared at the suspicious brown lumps on the plate.
[Task Progress Prompt: Please express goodwill by "accepting the host's hospitality."]
Tamara drew a slow breath.
Then she reached out. Her long, pale fingers selected a rock cake with all the solemnity of choosing a cursed artifact.
The moment it touched her teeth, she felt as though she were enduring some barbaric torture device.
The system chirped helpfully in her mind.
[Do not worry, host. I have doubled the hardness of your teeth. You are no different from a hyena now.]
"Crunch."
Tamara took a careful bite.
To everyone else, she appeared to be biting through the rock cake with effortless composure.
"The flavour... is very distinctive."
She chewed elegantly. It tasted like an old flour sack that had died of despair, but her smile remained immaculate.
"It has a... rustic earthiness."
Hagrid's eyes lit up.
"Knew yeh'd like it!" he said, delighted, as though he had discovered a soulmate. "Harry an Ron hardly touch em, but they're good, honest food!"
At last, the atmosphere lost some of its stiffness.
Hagrid looked at Tamara, hesitated, then could not stop himself from asking.
"Er... Miss Riddle. Even if yeh say it's just a coincidence... have yeh heard anything at school about what happened fifty years ago?"
Harry and Ron both stopped what they were doing and looked at Hagrid in confusion, plainly having no idea what he meant.
Here it comes.
Tamara set down her half eaten rock cake and drew out a handkerchief to dab delicately at the corner of her mouth.
"You mean the student who died in the second floor bathroom?"
She lifted her eyes and looked straight at Hagrid's evasive gaze.
At that moment, she became a master actress.
A perfectly measured trace of regret and sympathy appeared in her expression.
"The Professors do not speak of it often," Tamara said slowly, her tone sincere, "but I have read some old school records."
"I know a student received a Special Award for Services to the School for catching the person who opened the Chamber of Secrets."
Hagrid's body trembled. He lowered his head, his huge hands gripping the edge of the table so tightly the wood creaked.
"But..."
Tamara let the word fall softly.
"When I read it, I always felt something was wrong."
Hagrid looked up sharply.
"The student who was expelled had no record, as far as I could find, of attacking classmates. If anything, I heard he cared deeply for magical creatures."
She looked at Hagrid and spoke in a voice that was quiet but steady.
"I do not believe someone who loves creatures could be the murderer."
"On the other hand, the student who caught the culprit may have been brilliant, but there was ambition in those records. The sort that might do anything for recognition."
She lowered her gaze for a moment, as if choosing her words carefully.
"I think the judgment made back then may have been too hasty. Even unjust."
Tamara could feel her own expression threatening to crack.
She genuinely despised uttering such syrupy hypocrisy. If anything, she privately admired her younger self's work. The framing had been elegant, precise, and nearly flawless. There had never been a more brilliant act of slander.
But however insincere Tamara's words were, Hagrid was struck speechless.
His lips trembled. His eyes reddened instantly, and tears swelled in them at once.
Fifty years.
No one except Dumbledore had ever said such things to him.
Certainly not a Slytherin named Riddle.
"Yeh... yeh really think that?" Hagrid asked, voice thick with tears.
"Instinct, Mr Hagrid."
Tamara gave him a small smile. The usual arrogance had vanished, replaced by something warm and utterly convincing.
"I trust my instincts. You are a good man, and Hogwarts owes you a proper apology."
"Waaaaah!"
Hagrid broke completely.
He buried his face in the grubby tablecloth and sobbed like an oversized child.
"No one... no one ever said that before..."
Harry and Ron stared in open astonishment, then turned to Tamara with undisguised admiration.
Even Tamara herself was mildly surprised by how well it had worked.
[Ding! Task completed: Debt of History.]
[Hagrid Favorability: Friendly.]
[Evaluation: Though it was all lies, at least you gave comfort to an old man's heart. Such is the art of language.]
Tamara looked at the sobbing Hagrid and sighed inwardly.
"All right, do not cry."
She rose from her chair, and despite being revolted to the core, she reached out and gently patted Hagrid's huge trembling arm.
"Since it was a misunderstanding, it is good that it has been cleared up."
She glanced through the window at the darkening sky and changed the subject at once.
"And besides, the tea is lovely, but we should be getting back. We still have homework to finish."
If she stayed any longer, she might actually suffocate on cheap sentiment and rock cakes.
When they left the hut, Hagrid insisted on walking them all the way to the castle doors.
"Come by any time, Tamara!" Hagrid called, waving his great hand, eyes still red. "Next time I'll make yeh some treacle fudge!"
"Of course, Hagrid."
Tamara smiled and waved back.
The moment they stepped inside the castle and the heavy oak doors shut out the view from outside, the smile vanished from her face.
She cast a Scouring Charm again and again over the shoulder Hagrid had patted and the sleeve Fang had slobbered on.
"Tamara, what you said in there was brilliant," Harry said, still awed. "I have never seen Hagrid so moved."
"Yes."
Tamara looked down at her finally clean robes. A faint, almost invisible sneer touched the corner of her mouth.
Making a great lumbering fool cry was easier than eating one of his rock cakes.
.....
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