: The Hut

Chapter 70 Returning to the Cabin

The afternoon arrived quickly amidst the agonizing struggle with the soft, sticky Flobber caterpillar.

Legend has it that Grandma Baba Yaga's chicken-foot hut is forever shrouded in mist. Sometimes, when lost children wander helplessly in the forest, they will see a warm yellow light in the distance and a small wooden hut with chicken feet as they push aside the next thicket of thorns.

The cabin was old and dilapidated on the outside, covered with moss. But looking through the window, you could see a clean room illuminated by the warm firelight from the fireplace—a plush carpet, a hand-knitted sofa, and clean wooden tables and chairs.

Everything looked warm and peaceful.

This afternoon, Grandma Baba Yaga's little wooden house still looks the same.

Suddenly, the warm red flames in the living room fireplace changed color, turning from red to green. A few seconds later, the flames surged, and a person emerged from them.

It was Victor.

Victor dusted himself off. That's the downside of wizards' Floo Powder; every time they went in or out of the fireplace, they inevitably got a little bit of ash on them.

There were still few people in the living room, but a large cauldron hung on one side of the fireplace, bubbling away. The automatic stirrer Victor had bought last time was also running tirelessly inside, making the already purple liquid inside increasingly ominous.

Be careful.

After the flames changed color again, Victor reached out and pushed the dazed Harry, who was then spat out, to the side to prevent him from crashing directly into the cauldron.

"Oh, okay, Professor."

Harry stood there for a while before recovering from the dizziness of using Floo Powder for the first time.

"Make way, make way."

Just then, Fred's voice came from behind him, followed by George and Ron. The group emerged one by one from the fireplace.

The cramped space quickly became too small to stand in, and people scattered in all directions, pushing and rubbing each other.

Fred and George had just finished dealing with the Flobber caterpillars in the Divination Room. Because they were quick and efficient, they were finally granted a second chance to work at the Victoire's after repeated requests. After squeezing past Harry, they curiously began to look around.

They first saw the sink near the window, the large floor-to-ceiling mirror next to it, and the lush blue night-blooming jasmine outside the window on one side.

Fred and George's expressions immediately brightened with curiosity and excitement, almost as if to say, "This confinement was definitely worth it!"

"What is this?" Ron asked, looking at the crucible from behind.

"Your dinner," Victor said casually, uttering words that sent a chill down his spine.

"Bat wings stewed with snails, a classic dish."

"...Do you still have that kind of beef stew with potatoes that I had last time, Professor?" Harry was already pinning his hopes on other dishes.

"No, how could we eat ordinary dishes during a holiday?"

Harry was utterly devastated.

But while they were still chatting, the flames in the fireplace suddenly turned green again and swelled to almost two or three meters in size. Then, Hagrid's massive, broad figure appeared in the room.

His disheveled head inevitably bumped into the ceiling with a dull thud, and his broad body, as he stepped out from the narrow fireplace, bumped into the bowl of bubbling soup, causing it to tip over.

At that critical moment, Victor suddenly raised his hand and waved it gently.

Suddenly, a small, shimmering silver light appeared beneath the tipping cauldron. Before the others could see what it was, the cauldron seemed to be held aloft by something, stopping in mid-air.

Then, as if time had reversed, the thick soup that had spilled from the crucible automatically returned to the crucible, and the crucible itself was re-hung on the iron rack in the fireplace along the same path it had fallen down.

Everything happened in the blink of an eye.

Seeing Zeng Guo return safely to his original position, the four students couldn't help but show expressions of disappointment.

A few seconds after the cauldron was returned to its shelf, Hagrid belatedly realized what he had bumped into. Scratching his head and bending over, he said, "Oh, sorry, Professor Victor, I think I bumped into your—hmm? Did I knock over something? I definitely felt it just now."

When he turned his head, he saw only the unharmed crucible and fireplace.

"It's okay, I'm all better now."

Victor nodded, not paying attention to such a small detail.

"...Oh, that's good."

Hagrid looked at it in confusion for a moment and then said...

He then put down the gifts he was carrying—including a large bag of rock bread and some fertilizer specially made for magical herbs—and walked over to the sofa, standing with Harry and the others. A hint of caution and unease was clearly visible on his rough, bearded face.

As a guest, Hagrid was not as rugged and nonchalant as he appeared.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" Victor asked him.

"Oh, no problem, but beer would be even better—but not essential," Hagrid said gruffly.

"OK."

Victor then reached under the cabinet on the left and took out a large wooden mug, clearly a beer mug. He gently shook it, and beer began to trickle out from the bottom of the wooden mug.

When it was almost full, Victor handed it to Hagrid, then turned to Harry and the others and said:

"Harry, Fred, you guys need to go down into the woods and pick some spices for me, and also get rid of some pests while you're at it."

"Pest?"

Harry asked, puzzled.

"They're a bunch of goblins," Victor said, pointing towards the window.

"It's probably because our house accidentally ended up near the wizarding settlement during one of our moves, and a bunch of goblins took the opportunity to sneak in. I never imagined that these creatures, with their unusually small brains, would have enough obsession to successfully bypass the fog magic and wreak havoc on the garden."

"I've already marked out an area. All you need to do is throw the goblins in there, and I'll be fine."

As he spoke, Harry curiously peeked in the direction he was pointing.

The view outside the chicken-foot hut window was still shrouded in a gray haze, unchanged from his last visit. Looking down from the window, he could see the jagged tree trunks below and the gray, sparse bushes even lower down. However, every now and then, he could indeed spot a clump or two of trees with distinctive flowers and plants.

Just as Harry was looking, a round thing popped out of one of the bushes.

It has a small body, rough and tough skin, and looks brownish-brown, so its bald, round head makes it look like a potato.

Those are goblins.