Harry Potter and the Great Old Ones

Chapter 444 Pig Head Bar
After Harry agreed to Hermione's request, Hermione didn't mention it again for two whole weeks, instead starting what she called "preparations" for her Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

During this time, Ron participated in four more Quidditch training sessions, and after Harry watched, Ron's Quidditch skills finally reached the beginner level.

During Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration class, all three of them successfully cast spells to make mice disappear. To be precise, Hermione has gone a step further and is practicing spells to make cats disappear.

Then, on a stormy night in late September, as the three of them sat in the somewhat empty library, searching for potion ingredients for Snape, Hermione finally brought up the matter again—

“I’ve been trying my best these past few days,” Hermione said, “but there’s still no sign of the Resurrection Stone…”

“Hmm…” Harry replied dejectedly, “It’s okay, we can keep looking. Umbridge definitely hasn’t found it either.”

“That’s true,” Ron said. “These past few days, Umbridge has been acting like he’s possessed, locking himself in his office reading those books.”

“I’ve thought about it too,” Hermione said. “Since Tyrell foresaw Umbridge’s appearance, he must have also anticipated that Umbridge would take all the books from Hogwarts.”

“Hmm…” Harry replied.

"So he must have hidden the resurrection stone in a place that only we can get to, and Umbridge can't get to it."

“Hmm…” Harry said.

“So I think instead of getting hung up on the Philosopher’s Stone, we should focus on our own things,” Hermione said.

“Hmm…” Harry said.

“So I think you can start preparing your lessons,” Hermione said. “What can you teach us in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class?”

"Hmm...hmm?" Harry suddenly realized what Hermione had just said. "Preparing lessons? Preparing...how come so fast? What are you preparing, and when?"

“I’ve convinced a lot of people…” Hermione said. “To be precise, a lot of people, a lot of people, want you to teach them Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

"A group of people?" Harry said, somewhat surprised. "I... I thought it was just the two of you..."

“How could that be, Harry?” Hermione said. “We’re dealing with hundreds or thousands of Death Eaters. The three of us and the Order of the Phoenix alone are definitely not enough. We have to win over as many people and forces as possible.”

“We’re going to Hogsmeade on the first weekend of October, and I’ve already notified everyone who’s interested to come meet us in the village and discuss it properly,” Hermione said. “Quite a few people have agreed to come.”

"Why do we have to take it off-campus?" Ron asked.

“Because…” Hermione said, while continuing to copy the potion recipe, “If Umbridge finds out what we’re doing, I don’t think she’ll be very happy.”

Harry had been looking forward to spending the weekend in Hogsmeade, but when the day finally arrived, he started to get nervous.

The morning we arrived in Hogsmeade was sunny and breezy.

After breakfast, they lined up in front of Filch, who was checking their names against a long list of students whose parents or guardians had allowed them to visit Hogsmeade Village.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked after they arrived at Hogsmeade Village. "The Three Broomsticks Tavern?"

“No, no,” Hermione said. “No, it’s always crowded there, too chaotic and noisy, and not very private. I’ve arranged for the others to meet us at the Hog’s Head, which is another bar, you know, not on the main street. I also think it’s a bit…you know, not very safe, but classmates don’t usually go there, so I don’t think we’ll be overheard.”

They walked along the main road, passing Joko's joke shop—where, unsurprisingly, they spotted Fred, George, and Lee Jordan. They passed the post office, from which owls flew out every now and then, before turning onto a side street where a small bar stood at the intersection.

A dilapidated wooden sign hangs on a rusty bracket above the door, depicting a severed wild boar head, its white cloth soaked with blood.

As they approached, the signboard creaked and groaned in the wind. The three of them hesitated outside the door.

“Come on, let’s go in,” Hermione said, sounding a little nervous. Harry led the way inside.

The interior was completely different from the Three Brooms Bar, where the large bar always made you feel bright, clean, and warm. The Pig's Head Bar, on the other hand, was just a small, dark, and very dirty room that reeked of mutton.

Thick grime covered the bay windows, letting in almost no light. A few candle stubs burned on the rough wooden table. At first glance, Harry thought the ground was compacted dirt, but when he stepped on it, he realized it was originally stone paving covered with centuries of grime.

Harry remembered Hagrid mentioning the pub when he was a first-year student: "There are lots of fun guys in the Hog's Head."

He said this to explain how he won a dragon egg from a hooded stranger in a bar.

Harry was puzzled at the time, wondering why Hagrid didn't find it strange that the person always covered their face completely while they were dating.

He only realized now that hiding one's face seemed to be quite popular at the Pighead Bar.

There was a man at the bar whose entire head was wrapped in dirty gray bandages, but he was still able to pour one smoky, burning substance into his mouth through a gap in the bandage, one glass after another.

Two hooded figures sat at a table by the window, and if they weren't speaking with a heavy Yorkshire accent, Harry would have thought they were Dementors.

The bar owner slipped out of a back door and came to greet them.

He looked like a grumpy, filthy version of Dumbledore, tall and thin, with most of his face covered by a long, dirty beard.

"What do you want?" he mumbled as he asked.

“Three bottles of butterbeer, please,” Hermione said.

The man bent down and pulled three dusty, filthy bottles from under the counter, placing them heavily on the bar.

“Six Xike,” the old man said.

“I’ll pay,” Harry said quickly, handing over the silver coins.

The pub owner's gaze shifted to Harry, lingering for a moment on his scar. Then he looked away, placed the money Harry had given him into an old wooden money box, the drawer sliding open automatically and swallowing the money. Harry, Ron, and Hermione retreated to a table furthest from the bar, looking around anxiously, waiting for Hermione's classmates to arrive.

“So, who do you think will come to meet us?” Harry asked, unscrewing the rusty cap off his Butterbeer bottle and taking a big gulp.

“Just two or three people…” Hermione said, glancing at her watch and anxiously looking towards the door. “I told them to arrive around this time, and I think they’ll know where it is… Oh, look, this is probably them.”

The bar door opened again, and a thick beam of dusty sunlight pierced the room, only to disappear again in an instant, blocked by a large group of people who rushed in.

(End of this chapter)