Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 180: Fear Curse

A heavy silence settled over the restricted area. Dumbledore appeared deep in thought, his head lowered, while Hagrid instinctively touched his chest, as if to reassure himself that he was indeed still alive.

“You’re saying… Fluffy thought I was dead, and that’s why he went berserk?” Hagrid asked, scratching his head in confusion.

“Yes, that seems likely,” Kyle replied, then turned to Dumbledore. “Professor, could it be that someone used the Confundus Charm on Fluffy?”

Given the Three-Headed Dogʼs high resistance to magic, a typical charm would be as effective as a tickle. But it all depended on the caster. For instance, under Dumbledoreʼs magic, Fluffy was no stronger than a rag doll—a simple Stunning Spell had easily put him to sleep.

“It’s possible,” Dumbledore replied after a pause. “But I don’t think it’s a simple Confundus Charm.”

Kyle frowned. “You mean there’s another charm on Fluffy besides the Confundus Charm?”

“Yes—and it’s dark magic,” Dumbledore confirmed, stepping forward to examine Fluffy more closely, his nose almost brushing the dog’s fur. Then he tapped his wand gently on Fluffy’s middle head, muttering, “Just as I thought… the Fear Curse.”

“The Fear Curse?” Hagrid gasped, clearly unfamiliar with the term.

“Yes. Technically, it’s not considered classic dark magic; it only appeared about fifty years ago, so it’s understandable that you haven’t heard of it.” Straightening up, Dumbledore asked, “Kyle, do you know what a Boggart is?”

“Of course, Professor,” Kyle responded. “It’s a magical creature that shapeshifts to match the worst fears of anyone facing it.”

Dumbledore nodded. “Precisely. This dark magic is inspired by the Boggart’s nature,” he explained, a grim edge to his voice. “It creates illusions, trapping the victim in a constant vision of their greatest fear.”

“It seems someone cleverly combined the Confundus Charm with this dark magic, inducing Fluffy’s current state,” he added.

Kyle nodded thoughtfully, beginning to understand. The Fear Curse had made Fluffy see Hagrid’s “death” over and over, tormenting his mind, while the Confundus Charm made him perceive everyone else as a “murderer.”

Kyle felt a flicker of relief. If Dumbledore hadn’t detected Fluffy’s condition in time, and if Fluffy had managed to escape into the castle… Kyle shivered, unwilling to imagine the potential disaster. Almost all the professors were at the Quidditch Pitch; only a few students, disinterested in the match, remained in the castle. Encountering a crazed Fluffy would have meant an instant and brutal danger. Hogwarts itself might have been forced to close.

Thankfully, Dumbledore had intervened in time, preventing the worst from happening.

Kyle exhaled deeply and asked, “Professor, do you have a way to lift the curse?”

“A solution?” Dumbledore’s eyes glinted briefly. “It’s actually quite simple. Just—”

“No, Dumbledore!” Hagrid suddenly burst into tears, rushing toward him. “Please… don’t kill Fluffy. He’s a good boy… please…”

“Hagrid, you’ve misunderstood,” Dumbledore said, looking up at the sobbing Hagrid and patting his arm comfortingly. “I never intended to kill Fluffy.”

“Really… truly?” Hagrid asked, clutching his chest as he choked back sobs.

“Absolutely,” Dumbledore chuckled, “I promise.”

Though killing Fluffy would indeed have been the simplest solution, it was never in Dumbledore’s plan. In this entire situation, Fluffy was the most innocent party.

Once Hagrid had calmed down, Dumbledore continued, “As it happens, before I became headmaster, I spent some time studying the Fear Curse and understand it quite well.”

Turning to Kyle, he added, “But for now, Kyle, would you mind taking Hagrid to the Hospital Wing?”

Dumbledore winked. “I believe he could use a good night’s sleep.”

Kyle nodded and led Hagrid from the room. It was clear Dumbledore didn’t want them around for what was to come next. Hagrid kept glancing back every few steps, reluctant to leave.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Dumbledore called from inside the room. “Hufflepuff earns 50 points.”

...

Once they left the restricted area, Kyle accompanied Hagrid to the Hospital Wing. Hagrid was hesitant to go but didn’t put up much resistance. His thoughts lingered on Fluffy’s suffering, leaving him so distracted that he nearly stumbled down the stairs several times. Dumbledore was right; he really did need a good night’s rest.

When they reached the Hospital Wing, Kyle briefly explained Hagrid’s condition to Madam Pomfrey, though he chose not to mention the details of what had happened in the restricted area, only saying that Hagrid was deeply shaken. Madam Pomfrey took one look at Hagrid, who was standing with his head bowed, and without pressing for more information, she pulled out her wand and enlarged a bed in a quiet corner.

Then, she retrieved a bottle labeled “Draught of Living Death” from a cupboard, pouring its contents into a wooden bucket about the size of a Quaffle. She repeated this twice more until she had filled the bucket, then handed it to Hagrid.

“Lie down on that bed over there and drink this,” she instructed.

Hagrid took the bucket and, as he lumbered over to the bed, managed to knock over a few others along the way, earning a disapproving look from Madam Pomfrey. Fortunately, Kyle hurried to set the beds back in place, so she held her tongue and simply gave him a brief, pointed reminder before heading off.

Not long after, the sound of Hagrid’s snores filled the Hospital Wing, and Kyle exhaled in relief, drawing the curtain around Hagrid’s bed to give him some privacy.

Leaving the Hospital Wing, Kyle made his way quickly across the courtyard. Looking in the direction of the Quidditch Pitch, he sighed softly. The sky above the pitch was empty now, and he could see a large crowd of students heading back toward the castle. Clearly, the match had ended.

Kyle rubbed his forehead. He had anticipated this outcome. It seemed that ever since last year, every time there was an important Quidditch match, he was destined to be swept up in some sort of chaos. He’d hoped this year might be different, but it appeared things would remain the same.