When Hagrid dropped the name Cinder Serpents, Hermione's eyes flew wide.
"Cinder Serpents? I've never seen that in A History of Magic."
Hagrid chuckled. "'Course yeh haven't. There's plenty o' things history books don't write down." He leaned in, lowering his voice. "Their end, they say, had to do with a mysterious power that surfaced at Hogwarts a century ago. Ancient magic. Dumbledore mentioned it to me once—by accident, I reckon.
"For that magic, things got ugly. Goblins marched on Hogwarts. The Cinder Serpents made a try of it too. But yeh know the ending—Hogwarts still stands, safest place there is; goblins penned back to Gringotts; the Serpents wiped out. To keep that old magic hidden, the whole mess got scrubbed from the histories. Still—people with ears to the ground hear whispers.
"Why d'ye think You-Know-Who tread careful around Hogwarts? This school's got secrets. More than Dumbledore himself can count, I'll bet."
The four of them drank it in, rapt—and a little shaken. Harry's brow furrowed with a new worry for Hagrid's job. Theo idly thumbed the ancient staff, a spark passing behind his eyes.
Old magic at Hogwarts… almost certainly tied to this staff. His Seven-Apertures Heart hummed. If there are traces, the castle will remember. And if anything knows Hogwarts' bones, it's Slytherin's basilisk. Ask the oldest witness.
Hagrid, sensing he'd gone too grave, happily veered to lighter ground: this morning's Slytherin fiasco. Even as an expelled ex-student, he bled Gryffindor red; the tale of green robes "practising posture" had him slapping his knee.
"Brilliant! Seven House Cups in a row for those Slytherin sneaks—well, not this year! The Cup's ours!"
His eyes landed on Theo. The big man hesitated, then stood, shoulders nearly brushing the rafters. He paced. Whatever he'd been nursing looked hard to say out loud.
"Er—Theo, I've a question. Might be a bit rude. I'll only ask yeh, not the others."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione blinked, then, at Hagrid's look, slipped outside. Hagrid faced Theo squarely.
"I heard—er—you understand troll speech. You tamed the one in the castle. Named him Abba?"
Theo nodded. "That's right."
Hagrid drew a breath. "See, trolls an' giants—go far enough back—they share blood. Distant kin. Trolls are more… muddled, more beast. Giants've got more sense. Giants can understand trollish.
"And—well—you're strong. You swing that heavy staff like a twig. You cracked Flint's teeth like sugared almonds. You understand a troll. You spared him. And—er—right from the get-go, I felt we… got on. We like beasts. You even like my rock cakes." He winced. "This'll sound daft. Don' get offended. I don' mean bad by it. Truly I don't. I just—"
He swallowed. "D'you figure you might have, er, a touch o' giant in yeh? Not that I'm saying you do—just—maybe a—tiny—bit o' mixed-blood giant?"
He said it like he was stepping onto thin ice. Mixed-giant blood drew stares and slurs; it lived just a rung above werewolves on the ladder of prejudice. Hagrid himself had worn the brand for life: tall enough to scare children, gentle enough to break for them. Expelled on a frame-up that would've gone differently for a smaller boy. The sort of loneliness that makes you befriend every creature because beasts judge you by your hands, not your height.
Before Theo could answer, a shadow of disappointment crossed Hagrid's face. He shuffled, waving it off. "No, no—ha! Course not. You're a Muggle-world author, proper handsome, clever, popular—top marks… What'm I sayin'? S'stupid. Forget it. I'm stupid."
Theo sighed—then met him with clean, steady honesty.
"Hagrid, I'm Muggle-born—raised in a Muggle orphanage. What I do is… a stack of gifts I've picked up, not blood. I'm afraid I don't share your lineage."
He lifted the staff, then let it rest, voice gentling. "And I'm… honestly sorry about that."
Hagrid blinked. "Sorry?"
Theo's mouth quirked. "Since term began, I've met plenty of 'noble blood' from Slytherin—and found it mean and small. But you, Hagrid… you're the warmest, kindest man I've met. If 'mixed-giant' meant you, I'd call it the most honourable blood alive." He spread his hands. "So yes—if I were a little giant, and a little like you, I'd be proud. I'm not offended. I'm your friend. And I'll visit often."
Hagrid froze, huge and still, eyes wet. The door creaked; Hermione, Harry, and Ron edged back in, unable to pretend any longer.
"We didn't mean to eavesdrop," Hermione sniffed, "but, well… you project." She swallowed. "I feel the same. You're a good man, Hagrid. A grand one."
Ron nodded hard. "If I could choose? I'd take being like you."
Harry smiled. "Me too."
Hagrid's composure gave out. He scooped all four of them into a crushing bear hug, tears leaking into his beard.
Through those shaggy arms, Theo's vision sharpened—the System's light-screen flickered to life.
[You meet once more the white-ape sage Yuan Hong; your candid words move him—he claims you as a kindred spirit.]
[Your bond with Yuan Hong rises to: Intimate Friend.]
[You gain the talent — Staff Arts Transcendent.]
[Claim reward now?]
◇ BONUS & SUPPORT ◇
◇ 1 bonus chapter for every 10 reviews — drop a comment!
◇ 1 bonus chapter for every 100 Power Stones.
◇ Read 50 chapters ahead on P@treon → patreon.com/StrawHatStudios