Chapter 288: Giant Rebellion and Last Lesson
The group arrived at Hagrid's hut, their footsteps crunching softly on the frost-covered path. Harry raised his fist to knock, but the door creaked open before he could make contact.
Hagrid's massive frame filled the doorway, and the sight that greeted them made Hermione gasp audibly. His usually wild hair was matted with dried blood, creating dark streaks against his scalp. His left eye had swollen shut, the skin around it a violent tapestry of purple and blue bruises. Fresh cuts crisscrossed his weathered face and hands, some still weeping crimson droplets that caught the lamplight.
"Merlin's beard, Hagrid," Ron breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "What happened to you?"
"Oh, it's you lot." Hagrid's voice was hoarse, each word seeming to cost him effort. He stepped aside, moving with the careful precision of someone whose ribs might be cracked. "Come in then, before someone sees you."
Inside the familiar warmth of the hut, Fang was contentedly gnawing on what appeared to be a chunk of green, scaly meat. The smell of herbs and something medicinal hung heavy in the air. Hagrid lowered himself onto his sofa with visible pain, then reached over and snatched the dragon meat from Fang's jaws.
"Raw dragon meat for the swelling," he explained, pressing the bloody chunk against his battered face.
Hermione's jaw clenched at the sight, and Aiden could actually hear her teeth grinding together. The sound made him wince.
"Never mind that mediaeval treatment," Aiden said, already drawing his wand. "Let me help you properly."
"Episkey."
Golden light flowed from Aiden's wand, and Hagrid's collapsed ribs began to realign with audible pops and cracks. The half-giant's face contorted in discomfort, his massive hands instinctively moving to scratch at the healing bones.
"Don't touch," Aiden warned sharply, then bit down on his own finger. A small bead of silver blood welled up, floating in the air like liquid mercury. He touched it with his wand tip, and it dispersed into a fine mist that seeped through Hagrid's skin.
Within moments, the cuts sealed themselves, the bruises faded to nothing, and Hagrid's swollen eye returned to normal.
"Your blood can do that?" Ron asked, raising an eyebrow hopefully. "Could you maybe..."
"Absolutely not," Aiden cut him off before he could finish the request.
A sharp rap at the door made them all freeze. That sickeningly sweet voice rang out like nails on a chalkboard: "Open up! Senior Investigator from the Ministry of Magic, Umbridge!"
Hagrid's eyes went wide as dinner plates. Aiden's wand moved in a swift arc, and the group vanished from sight just as the door handle turned.
Hagrid composed himself and opened the door, his movements now fluid and pain-free thanks to Aiden's healing.
"Oh, you must be the former Care of Magical Creatures professor," Umbridge said, her toad-like eyes surveying the hut's interior with obvious distaste. "Listen carefully. I'll be conducting teaching evaluations on you for some time, so do prepare yourself. Also, as a Hogwarts professor, your extended absence requires explanation. What exactly have you been doing?"
"Uh, well," Hagrid stammered, affecting an embarrassed expression. "Family matters, you understand. We half-breeds have... complications."
The moment Umbridge heard the word "half-breed", her face twisted with unconcealed revulsion. She took a step backward, as if Hagrid's very presence might contaminate her.
"I see," she said coldly, then turned on her heel and left. Outside, they could hear her frantically spraying perfume, the floral scent wafting back through the open door.
Aiden snapped his fingers, and the group reappeared.
"Hagrid," Hermione said, her voice deadly serious, "you must tell us what happened. Even Dumbledore wouldn't send you on a mission this dangerous without good reason."
"Don't even think about lying," Ron added, jerking his thumb toward Aiden. "We've got a Legilimens right here."
Hagrid sighed deeply, the sound like wind through trees. He glanced around nervously before leaning forward.
"Alright, I'll tell you. But this is top secret, understand? Not a word to anyone." His voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "Dumbledore sent me to negotiate with the giants."
"Giants?" Hermione's voice pitched higher with alarm.
"Shh!" Hagrid pressed a finger to his lips, eyes darting toward the windows. "To avoid Fudge's surveillance, I went through France first. Madame Maxime and I searched across Europe until we found them on a highland in the far north."
His expression grew wistful. "I delivered Dumbledore's gifts. Gained their friendship, I did. Just when I thought they'd side with us..." His face darkened. "A rebellion broke out. The new giant king accepted the Death Eaters' recruitment. We were driven out like common thieves."
"They beat you?" Hermione's voice carried genuine heartache.
"Aye... well, not entirely," Hagrid said with a rueful shrug. "But it's not all bad news. Some of them still remember Dumbledore's kindness. And I found news about my mother in their settlement." His expression became strange, shifting between grief and something like relief. "She's dead, but at least I know now."
"I'm afraid it's not that simple," Aiden said, raising an eyebrow meaningfully.
Hagrid gave him desperate, pleading looks, clearly wanting to avoid further discussion. Seeing his discomfort, Aiden decided not to press the matter of whatever family complications Hagrid was hiding.
"By the way, Hagrid," Hermione said, her tone almost pleading, "please don't try raising Blast-Ended Skrewts or Chimaeras anymore. Umbridge will definitely find a way to fire you if you do."
"Alright, alright. I'll do my best," Hagrid nodded, rising from his chair. "Well then, it's getting late. You should head back before someone notices you're gone."
As they prepared to leave, Hagrid caught Harry's arm.
"Harry," he said quietly, his eyes serious. "Be careful. The storm is coming."
The next day's Care of Magical Creatures class proved Hermione's concerns were well-founded. Following her advice, Hagrid had chosen to work with the Thestrals he'd tamed, preparing large chunks of raw meat to demonstrate their feeding habits.
What he hadn't anticipated was that only a handful of students could actually see the winged skeletal creatures. To everyone else, it appeared as though chunks of beef were being torn apart by invisible jaws, the meat disappearing into thin air with wet, tearing sounds.
Several students turned green at the grotesque display. Umbridge scribbled furiously on her pink clipboard, her quill scratching like claws on parchment as she recorded every perceived failure.
Hermione's hands clenched into fists, her knuckles white with the effort of restraining herself. Only Ron's firm grip on her arm prevented her from hexing the Ministry toad on the spot.
As Christmas approached, the DA prepared for what would be their final meeting before the holidays. In the dreamscape that night, Aiden felt an unusual melancholy settling over him as he watched Amin and Nura practise their techniques.
"Teacher," Nura said softly, approaching him as the other DA members continued their spell practice. "I'll miss you."
She wrapped her arms around him in a warm embrace, and despite his usual composure, Aiden felt his throat tighten slightly.
"Hmph," Amin muttered nearby, trying to maintain his aloof facade. But Aiden could sense the longing radiating from the boy's thoughts.
With a gentle gesture, Aiden drew Amin into their embrace. The three stood together in the shifting dreamscape, surrounded by the silver threads of woven magic.
"There's plenty of time in the future to develop advanced techniques," Aiden said softly. "But tonight, as our final lesson, I want to show you something different."
He waved his hand, and the practice area dissolved around them. The DA members, absorbed in their spell work, didn't notice as their section of the dream separated and drifted away.
Aiden merged his memories into the dreamscape, crafting a vivid recreation of his encounters with the Deep Realm King. Using his abilities as a Sequence 3 Dream Weaver, he shielded his two students from the corrupting influence while weaving spirit threads through the vision to maintain their sanity.
For the first time, Amin and Nura faced the true enemy directly.
"Teacher," Nura whispered, her voice trembling as she witnessed the cosmic horror of their foe. "This is..."
"Yes," Aiden nodded gravely. "These are our future enemies. The ones you, as the next generation of Silent Slates leaders, must oppose."
"I..." Amin's voice shook, but he forced himself to speak through his fear. "I will protect you, Nura. And the teacher too!"
A gentle smile curved across Aiden's delicate features. He placed his hand on Amin's head, ruffling the boy's hair with affection.
"I hope that one day you'll understand," he said quietly, "that our daily battles against the Deep Realm are fought so that moments like this can be repeated again and again."
Though Amin and Nura couldn't fully comprehend his words, they committed their teacher's image to memory with fierce intensity. Years later, when Nura had become Egypt's Minister of Magic and Amin headed the Sun Boat organisation, they would still remember this lesson in the dream and the teacher who had shown them both the darkness they must fight and the light they must protect.