After leaving the Hospital Wing, Kyle didn't immediately post the letter. Instead, he waited until noon before heading to the owlery with the letter and the newly delivered photograph.
Ratton was so distinctive that Kyle worried Lucius might simply drive him away to avoid any association. It seemed wiser to choose another owl. Surveying the owlery, Kyle quickly picked a tawny barn owl and tied the envelope securely to its leg.
"Thank you for your help," he said softly.
The owl gave a small nod, spread its wings, and soared into the sky.
Just as Kyle turned to leave, a familiar pair of sharp eyes fixed on him. He sighed inwardly.
"Ah, Ratton... there you are. Honestly, I couldn't find you earlier..." Kyle began dryly. "Actually, um... this isn't an important errand. You don't need to trouble yourself—"
Before Kyle could finish, Ratton's feathers flared out like an overinflated Quaffle. Ignoring Kyle's attempt to explain, Ratton puffed up furiously, clicked its beak in irritation, and took off with an angry flap of wings.
"I really should've come when he wasn't here," Kyle muttered, rubbing his forehead.
He was about to head after Ratton when a sudden angry shout echoed from outside.
"Get away from me... you beast, get away!"
Kyle quickened his pace toward the commotion. Outside the owlery, Filch stood struggling with a wooden stick fitted with a hook at the end. Above him, two owls circled. One was Ratton, still fuming, who swooped repeatedly at Filch, battering him with powerful wings. Each strike sent Filch staggering backward.
Beside Ratton hovered a white snowy owl, clearly distressed.
"Hedwig?" Kyle called.
The white owl immediately broke away and fluttered down to land on Kyle's shoulder. Up close, Kyle noticed its ragged appearance: feathers sticking out at odd angles, a bent wing, and a letter clutched tightly in its claw.
"Ratton, hold on!" Kyle shouted.
Whether because he was tired or because Kyle's voice reached him, Ratton stopped his assault and flew to perch in a nearby tree. Filch, panting and disheveled, angrily hurled the stick—but it curved in the air and landed neatly in Kyle's outstretched hand. A white feather stuck to the hook at its end.
"Filch, are you intercepting students' letters?" Kyle asked sharply.
"This is a routine inspection," Filch growled. "Hand it over, or I'll—"
Snap!
Kyle tossed the stick to the ground and crushed it underfoot, breaking it in two. Hedwig let out a triumphant hoot.
"Inspection?" Kyle asked coldly. "Funny, I don't recall Hogwarts performing inspections like this."
Filch recoiled at the sudden aggression but quickly stiffened his posture. "This is authorized by Professor Umbridge. I'm only following orders."
"Nonsense." Kyle's gaze hardened. "Intercepting letters without permission violates Wizarding Law. Are you suggesting Professor Umbridge, the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic, authorized illegal activity? Don't you dare slander her name."
Filch's face paled to a sickly green. He knew full well how unlawful his actions were but hadn't expected to be so blatantly challenged. Before he could stammer a defense, Kyle dismissed him outright.
"I'll be reporting this to the professor," Kyle said firmly. With that, he turned and walked away, Hedwig still perched on his shoulder.
Halfway back to the castle, Hedwig let out a soft hoot and flew off toward Gryffindor Tower, presumably to deliver her letter to Harry. Watching her go, Kyle considered heading to his dormitory to fetch some owl tonic for Harry's injured companion. But as he reached the castle gates, something made him pause.
In the distance, near the edge of the Forbidden Forest, a thin column of white smoke curled from the chimney of a long-silent wooden house.
"Hagrid's back?"
Kyle immediately changed direction, striding quickly across the frost-covered grass until he reached the wooden hut. He raised a hand and knocked twice on the door.
Inside, the sound of familiar barking erupted.
"Shut up, Fang!"
The door creaked open, and Hagrid's bearded face appeared in the narrow gap.
"Kyle… how'd yeh know I was back?" Hagrid's voice brimmed with delight.
"I saw the smoke," Kyle replied. "Someone must have lit the fireplace."
"Ah, I should've thought o' that," Hagrid said with a broad smile. "Come in… Move over, Fang, outta the way…"
He swung the door wider, and Kyle squeezed into the warm but musty interior. As soon as he stepped inside, Hagrid shut the door behind him.
The room reeked of damp wood and mildew, but Kyle barely noticed. His focus was entirely on Hagrid. The half-giant was in dreadful shape—dark red clots of blood clung to his matted hair, both eyes were swollen nearly shut, his chin was still oozing blood, and two teeth were clearly missing. It was as if he'd been pounded into the ground and then pummeled some more.
"It's fine… It's fine," Hagrid muttered, quickly covering his bruised face with a massive hand. "I could use a drink… but the tea's gone moldy. Water'll have to do in this weather."
Kyle stared at him, his tone suddenly sharp. "It was the Giants, wasn't it?"
Hagrid froze mid-motion. "What?"
"I mean," Kyle said with quiet certainty, "a Giant hit you, didn't it?"
"No…" Hagrid protested, but his voice was faint, unconvincing.
"Then what was it?" Kyle asked evenly. "There's no trace of magic on you, so it wasn't a wizard. And no ordinary wizard could've done this with their bare hands."
"It was… a dragon," Hagrid stammered, avoiding Kyle's gaze. "I went to Romania—"
"Sorry, forgive my ignorance," Kyle interrupted, raising an eyebrow. "Which species of dragon prefers hand-to-hand combat? They usually rely on fire."
Kyle glanced pointedly at Hagrid. "And yet, no burns."
"Oh, well, maybe it was a Chimaera," Hagrid said hastily.
"The Chimaera's most dangerous weapons are its claws and teeth."
"I…"
"Hagrid," Kyle said, his tone dry, "are you testing my knowledge of magical creatures?"
Bang!
A copper pot clanged loudly as Hagrid slammed it onto the stove.
"I know, I know! Your Care of Magical Creatures class is outstanding," Hagrid grumbled. "But right now, I wish you weren't so clever."
"So, you admit it, then?" Kyle said with a faint smile.
"This isn't something a kid your age should be askin' about," Hagrid said sternly, glaring at him with his one good eye. "Don't push it, Kyle. It's confidential. I won't say another word."
"Alright," Kyle said cheerfully, backing off without further argument.
Hagrid blinked in surprise. He'd been gearing up for more questions, but none came. He suddenly remembered that Kyle wasn't like Harry or his friends—Kyle didn't have the same habit of badgering people for answers.
Thank goodness there's only one of him, Hagrid thought with relief.
He could handle Harry's inquisitiveness on most occasions, but if Kyle shared that same trait, Dumbledore's top-secret mission would be doomed. Worse, Kyle might uncover more than Hagrid wanted anyone to know… like the object hidden deep in the Forbidden Forest.
But Kyle wasn't pressing further. Instead, he leaned casually against the table. "I just want to know one thing—what side are the Giants on? That's why you're back, isn't it? You were sent to them as Dumbledore's emissary."
Hagrid's smile faded, his expression turning serious.
"They were on our side," he said slowly. "But the Giant leader—the Gurg—we met, well… you know that means their chief."
Kyle nodded.
"Well, he had his head chopped off on the third day by another Giant, Golgomath, usin' a Goblin-made sword."
"A Goblin sword?" Kyle asked, frowning. "You didn't give it to him, did you?"
"No!" Hagrid exclaimed. "It was the Death Eaters… Macnair, that murdering lunatic, and Golgomath got along right well."
"So now we're facing all the Giants?" Kyle pressed.
"Maybe not all," Hagrid said, his voice heavy. "There's been more fightin'. Olympe and me managed to persuade six or seven of them to consider our side. If they refuse to follow Golgomath, they might join us."
"How many Giants are there in total?" Kyle asked.
"Well… about seventy or eighty."