John didn't stay long in the common room—he still had a class to attend.
Crossing the lawn, he spotted Hagrid standing with his hands on his hips, looking confident.
"John! You're the first one here," Hagrid said happily, clearly pleased that John had chosen his class.
He hadn't received the official roster yet, but he was sure his course would be popular.
"I think the Zouwu's been getting a bit restless lately," Hagrid said, since no one else had arrived yet. "He's been tearing up the forest again, but there aren't any female Zouwus nearby."
John rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe you could make him some toys—something to help him burn off energy."
"That's a brilliant idea, John." Hagrid looked genuinely impressed.
But as time passed, his enthusiasm gradually faded. Half the class time had gone by, and still no one else had shown up.
"Only you signed up for my course, John," Hagrid muttered, looking dejected. "There must've been a mistake—they must've mixed up the schedule!"
"Hagrid," John sighed, "you have to face reality. Avoiding it won't help."
"Fine, fine, thanks, John," Hagrid said gruffly, though he was clearly hurt. "They just don't like my lessons anymore."
"Then maybe we can visit Grawp," John suggested, patting Hagrid's stomach comfortingly. "That's something only you can offer, right?"
At the mention of Grawp, Hagrid's spirits finally lifted a little.
He didn't even bother bringing a weapon and followed Hagrid toward the Forbidden Forest.
"Grawp will be glad to see you," Hagrid said cheerfully. "He really likes those fluff balls you made for the Zouwu."
Hagrid pushed aside a branch that nearly slapped him in the face. "He didn't even break them! Tough little things, they are."
"If Grawp likes them, I don't mind making a few more," John said casually. "Actually, he might enjoy having a writing board. It could help him learn letters."
Hagrid's eyes widened. "That's a brilliant idea, John! You always think of the best details."
He'd only ever thought about teaching Grawp to speak—never to read or write.
John, however, treated Grawp like a human child, and that warmed Hagrid's heart.
After walking for a while, they reached a cave.
The rough stone walls wouldn't hurt a giant's skin—if anything, they probably made good scratching posts.
"Grawp! Look who I brought to see you!" Hagrid shouted from the entrance.
A moment later, there was movement inside the cave.
Grawp emerged, ropes tied around his legs—thicker ones than before.
During Hagrid's absence in their fifth year, Grawp had broken free and rampaged through the Forbidden Forest.
If the Zouwu hadn't driven him back, the centaurs might've banded together to kill the giant.
John raised an eyebrow and said to Hagrid, "You need to teach him not to wander off—not just tie him up."
Hagrid scratched his head. "I'm just worried he'll end up at Hogwarts."
Facing a full-grown giant, even a half-giant like Hagrid had limited options.
John thought for a moment. "If you don't mind, I can help make sure Grawp doesn't run around again."
"Really?" Hagrid asked, his face lighting up. "But how, John?"
John stepped forward. The moment Grawp saw the small human approach, he instinctively reached out a massive hand to grab him.
But the next second, the familiar aura of dragon might made him flinch and pull back in fear.
John hadn't unleashed his full power. In the Witcher's world, he'd learned more than just how to kill magical creatures—he'd learned how to communicate with them.
He motioned for Grawp to crouch.
The giant bent down, his huge face coming level with John's.
John placed a hand against that enormous cheek and cast a telepathic spell.
Grawp's expression shifted from confusion to something strange—almost as if he understood what the little human was trying to say.
Under Hagrid's astonished gaze, Grawp slowly nodded.
Then, in a slurred, clumsy voice, he managed to say, "J.. oh..he..nn."
"He's calling you, John!" Hagrid exclaimed, overjoyed.
John looked up at the giant. "Without Hagrid's permission, don't go anywhere people live," he instructed.
Grawp nodded again, and Hagrid practically bounced with excitement.
"What did you do, John? How did you manage that?" he asked eagerly, desperate to learn.
Unfortunately, John poured a little cold water on his enthusiasm. "You'd have to learn from a unicorn first."
"A unicorn?"
That immediately shut Hagrid down—his bulky frame and clumsy hands weren't exactly suited for lessons from those elegant creatures.
Even though he couldn't communicate as clearly as John, Hagrid was still thrilled with the progress.
That day's Care of Magical Creatures class ended with Grawp's ropes untied—and, more importantly, with him staying put.
For once, Hagrid didn't need to tie his brother down.
Back at the hut, Hagrid waved happily as John headed off.
"John, don't forget our next class!"
As if worried John might not show up, Hagrid made sure to remind him again.
John assured him he wouldn't forget.
On his way back to the castle, he ran into Moaning Myrtle in the second-floor corridor.
The ghost girl had been pestering him lately, hoping for more gifts.
The hairclip John had given her in second year was still tucked into her wispy hair. Standing before a suit of armor, she fussed with her reflection and said, "John, if you give me a pretty necklace next time, I'll be so happy."
"Good suggestion," John replied with a smile. "As long as you don't tell the other ghosts."
"Really?" Myrtle's face lit up as she twirled through the walls in delight.
"You've helped me plenty too," John added, wagging a finger. "Use this time to think about what kind of necklace you'd like most."
Because of that one sentence, the girls of Hogwarts suffered greatly afterward.
Myrtle would sometimes appear out of nowhere, sneak up onto their shoulders, and whisper, "Can I take a look at your necklace?"
When John finally returned to the Slytherin common room, the lovey-dovey couple had at last stopped showing off.
Seeing him come in, Malfoy looked up and asked, "So, how was the class?"
John told him it had been pretty interesting.
Malfoy looked skeptical—he knew exactly what Hagrid's classes were usually like.
"Professor Snape seems to be on strike," Malfoy said, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Word is he's 'not feeling well.' But I think he just can't stand the new guy—Sirius Black."
You didn't need insider knowledge to see Snape's hatred for Sirius; his expression last night had said it all.
Malfoy, bold as ever, speculated that Snape had simply feigned illness to avoid running into him.
After all, if anyone could fake being sick convincingly, it was a Potions Master.
"We've got Defense Against the Dark Arts and Potions today," John said, glancing at his schedule. It was crammed full of classes, though he didn't actually need to attend most of them.
"If he's not coming, then who's teaching?"
Malfoy frowned, just as puzzled. Slughorn was Snape's former mentor, but even that apparently couldn't outweigh his hatred of Sirius.
It was only Slughorn's second day as the Headmaster, and already Snape had gone on strike.
On that point, even Malfoy had no idea what was going on.
Anyway, if there was no class, it just meant a bit of free time to relax.
An hour later, it was time for Defense Against the Dark Arts.
When they arrived, a long line had already formed outside the classroom.
John strolled over unhurriedly—after all, this was Sirius's class.
Malfoy, of course, shared the same lack of enthusiasm.
After having fought alongside him at the Ministry, it was hard for either of them to show Sirius any real respect.
Defense Against the Dark Arts was one of the core subjects, so the class was packed with students.
When Daphne showed up, her face was full of resentment.
"For Ancient Runes, we have to write two fifteen-inch essays, translate two inscriptions, and finish reading all these books by Wednesday," she complained.
She held a heavy stack of books in her arms, her frustration practically radiating off her.
She'd thought this year's workload would be like last year's—only to find it had doubled.
"And there's something else," Daphne said, pulling an old manuscript from between the books and handing it to John. "Professor Babbling asked if you could help translate these runes."
John took it and glanced over it briefly. "Advanced Runes. She really knows how to slack off, doesn't she?"
Slack off?
Daphne looked at the heavy book, lost in thought.
John opened his small bag and said, "You can leave the book here with me for now."
Daphne put the book inside.
Malfoy envied John for having that small bag; it was so convenient.
The classroom door opened.
Sirius strode out, his vanity as a new teacher overflowing as he looked at the long line.
"Come in."
John noticed Sirius's gaze sweep over him. He glanced at Sirius's left side, thinking he'd recovered quite quickly.
Sirius saw John's expression, as if he understood, and his face darkened.
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