The air in the Forbidden Forest didn't just feel cold anymore; it felt heavy, as if the oxygen had been replaced by lead. The barking that had sounded distant and somewhat curious moments ago was now a sequence of thunderous, guttural roars that vibrated through the very soles of their boots.
Fred, George, and Lee Jordan stood like statues, their faces pale against the backdrop of the white snow. While they were usually the first to seek out trouble, there was a specific frequency in that sound—a primal, predatory resonance—that triggered an ancient "run or die" instinct in their lizard brains.
"Something is definitely coming, and it sounds like it hasn't eaten since the Middle Ages," George whispered, his eyes darting frantically between the gnarled trees.
Lee Jordan's knees were actually shaking. "Hagrid's dog? Albert, tell me that's just Fang having a bad day."
"If Fang sounds like that, Hagrid's been feeding him dragon heartstrings," Lee added, his voice cracking. He shook his head, already backing away. "That's not a hound. That's a disaster with fur."
Albert didn't waste time with explanations. He knew the timeline. He knew the secrets of the third-floor corridor that were yet to be established. But more importantly, he knew Hagrid's questionable taste in "cute" pets.
"Move. Now," Albert said, his voice low and sharp. It wasn't a suggestion; it was an order. "If you want to keep all your limbs in their original positions, you'll stop asking questions and start using your legs."
"Wait, where are you going?" George called out as Albert began to move with a calculated, rapid grace toward the edge of the woods.
"Out of here!" Albert hissed back over his shoulder. "Unless you're looking forward to a detention with Filch—or worse, a very awkward conversation with Hagrid about why you're watching him walk his 'little friend.' Move!"
In Albert's mind, the situation was clear. This was Fluffy, the Cerberus. Whether the beast had slipped its tether or Hagrid was simply giving it some much-needed exercise in the deep woods, the result for a group of second-years was the same: catastrophic.
Fred and George, however, suffered from a terminal case of Gryffindor curiosity. They slowed down, sharing a look of mischievous intrigue. They remembered Hagrid mentioning a "bit of a dog" he'd picked up from a Greek fellow at the Hog's Head. In their minds, "Hagrid's dog" meant something large, sure, but surely something manageable.
"He's walking too fast," Fred muttered, watching Albert disappear into the gray mist of the snowy trees. "What's he so worried about? It's just Hagrid."
"Maybe he's just worried about the Snow Mushrooms," George guessed, though he kept his wand out. "Let's just see what it is. One peek won't kill us."
Lee Jordan, caught between Albert's common sense and the twins' recklessness, hovered in place for a second before turning to follow Albert. "You two are going to get us killed! Albert! Wait up!"
Ahead, Albert stopped and looked back. Seeing the twins lingering near the treeline, he felt a surge of genuine annoyance. "Those two idiots," he muttered under his breath. "They really think the Forbidden Forest is a theme park."
"They're falling behind, Albert," Lee gasped, catching up. "They're actually waiting for it to show up!"
"Then they're about to receive a very expensive education in why I'm usually right," Albert said. He looked at Lee, who was vibrating with anxiety. "You want to know what it is? Fine. But don't blame me when you can't sleep for a month."
Albert raised his wand. With a precise flick, he performed a Disillusionment Charm. Unlike the clumsy attempts most students made, Albert's spell didn't just blur the edges; it made him flow into the background like water, a perfect shimmer that vanished into the white and gray of the winter woods.
"Whoa..." Lee breathed, watching the spot where Albert had just been. "You're... gone."
"I'm right here," Albert's voice came from the air. "And I'm putting one on you. Stay quiet. Dogs have three noses where this one is concerned. The charm won't hide our scent, but it might keep us from being the first thing he bites."
"Wait, three noses?" Lee's eyes widened just as the cold, water-like sensation of the Disillusionment Charm washed over him. He looked down and saw his body turn into a distorted ripple.
"Don't talk," Albert whispered. "And whatever you do, don't scream. Even if you see them getting cornered, stay put. I'll handle it."
They crept back toward where the twins were hiding. Fred and George had attempted their own Disillusionment Charms, but the results were pathetic. They looked like two human-shaped patches of bad static leaning against a frozen pine tree. To a wizard, they were obvious. To a giant three-headed hound, they were basically glowing neon signs that said 'Free Snacks.'
The barking stopped. The silence that followed was worse. It was replaced by a heavy, rhythmic sniffing—a sound like a bellows in a forge. Huff. Huff. Huff.
Then, the beast exploded through a thicket of dead briars.
Fred and George's jaws dropped. The "dog" was the size of a small cottage. Its muscles rippled under a coat of coarse, dark fur, and atop its massive shoulders sat not one, but three distinct, snarling heads. Each head was equipped with eyes like burning coals and rows of yellowed fangs that dripped with thick, ropey saliva.
The sheer pressure of the creature's presence was suffocating. It wasn't just a dog; it was a living wall of muscle and malice.
The middle head let out a low, vibrating growl that made the snow fall from the branches above. The left head began to sniff the air aggressively, turning its massive snout directly toward the tree where the twins were cowering.
Fred felt the blood drain from his extremities. His wand felt like a useless twig in his hand. What was a Flipendo going to do against a creature that could swallow him whole in a single gulp? He looked at George, and for the first time in their lives, the twins shared a look of pure, unadulterated terror. They didn't want to play a prank. They didn't want Galleons. They wanted their mother.
The Cerberus took a heavy step forward, its massive paws sinking deep into the snow. It knew they were there. It could smell the sweat, the fear, and the lingering scent of Snow Mushrooms.
Lee Jordan, watching from a few yards away, felt a tear prick his eye. He looked frantically for Albert, but the air beside him was empty. Did he leave? Lee thought, panic rising in his chest.
No, Albert wouldn't leave them. But what can he even do?