"Come have a cup of tea."
Hagrid called out warmly.
His dark eyes gleamed with a kind of earthy wisdom. After they rounded the bend in the path, the worry he'd been carrying—that he might not be able to care for this adorable little fellow—finally melted away.
Once they were inside the forest, this was his territory. No matter how long the Ministry's reach was, it certainly didn't stretch into the Forbidden Forest.
As for whether this little dragon would make trouble at school… well, a dragon only a bit over six meters long when fully grown? Hagrid could take on five of those with one hand. He could grab one by the tail and swing it around for fun if he wanted to. Even a Ridgeback's venom wouldn't get through his half-giant constitution.
In the magical world, wild giants were apex predators, the kind you'd compare with full-grown fire dragons. Medium or small dragons would run from them like they'd seen a ghost; if they didn't run fast enough, they'd end up skewered over a fire. Any dragon that could challenge a giant had a wingspan stretching dozens of meters.
Hagrid might have been only half-giant, but his strength wasn't far off. In fact, in a straight fight, an ordinary giant might not even win against him.
If he could train a mountain-rage lizard the size of a four- or five-story building and weighing over fifty tons, this little creature was hardly worth fretting over.
Yet something about Lynn's suggestion felt oddly familiar to Hagrid—like something similar had happened in a past life—but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't recall what it was.
"I need some iced lemonade…" Holly wiped the sweat from her forehead. She had already taken off both her cloak and jacket, and she still felt like she was melting.
"Maybe what you need is an Adaptation Lamp."
A few biu-biu flashes later, the stifling heat inside the hut instantly vanished.
"I just forgot to bring mine," Holly said sheepishly. "We don't learn the Fire-Protection Charm (Caloris Deflecto) until next year, and Autumn hasn't learned it yet anyway."
"Oh, right—Hagrid, we actually came here today because we need your help. It's something really important!"
Holly turned toward him then, and her serious expression made Hagrid straighten a little.
"Have you run into trouble, Holly?"
Now that the big worry on his mind had been resolved, Hagrid was in unusually high spirits.
"It's about you, Hagrid. I figured out what really happened fifty years ago."
"We know you were framed. Acromantulas might have terrifying venom, but the girl who died back then clearly didn't die from poisoning. I asked Hogwarts' ghosts and portraits—especially Moaning Myrtle—"
"It took me almost a month to convince her." Holly sighed inwardly at the memory. Being a girl wasn't always an advantage; Myrtle didn't like her at all—not for any complicated reason, but simply because Holly was pretty. Myrtle never had patience for girls like that.
"She told me that right before she died, she saw a pair of enormous yellow eyes. Those definitely weren't the eyes of an Acromantula. It had to be something else, something far more terrifying."
"We want to clear your name, Hagrid. You're our best friend, and we want to do everything we can for you."
"Even if fifty years have passed—if there's even one chance—then we're going to find the real culprit and prove your innocence!"
Holly's voice rang out, clear and determined, her green eyes reflecting Hagrid's heavily bearded face.
For a long time, Hagrid didn't react. He just kept mechanically gulping tea, his beard hiding whatever expression he wore. Aside from the crackling of the fireplace, the little stone hut fell into silence.
"That was all fifty years ago…" Hagrid finally muttered in a defeated voice. "It's been so long, hasn't it?"
Another heavy pause, his lips trembling faintly.
"The girl's death had nothing to do with me… not me, nor Aragog…"
He screwed his eyes shut, his huge hand curling into a fist.
"The Ministry lot—blasted fools, every one of them!"
His sudden slam on the table shook the entire hut, making the walls rattle. The blackened dragon egg on the firepit jumped and rolled deeper into the flames.
"They never even investigated! They just believed someone else's word and blamed me!"
"I spent a week in Azkaban…" Hagrid shuddered, voice cracking. "If it weren't for Professor Dumbledore, I might've died on that island."
"Can you tell us who framed you?" Holly asked gently, pushing forward now that she finally had something solid.
"It was Slytherin's prefect back then," Hagrid muttered. "Name of Tom Riddle. A smooth-talking liar, he was."
"But what good does that do now?"
"That Tom—every professor adored him, except Dumbledore. Everyone believed everything that came out of his mouth."
Hagrid grabbed a small keg from the cupboard, crushed the top in one hand, and drank half of it in one go, letting out a sharp boozy breath.
"And me? I was a half-giant. You kids know how badly half-giants are treated. They see us as violent, brutish—just like full giants. Only Dumbledore believed me. He defended me and stood guarantee for me."
"He even gave me this job as Groundskeeper so I wouldn't be homeless."
"But it's been fifty years. That filthy Tom is who knows where. I've never heard of another famous wizard named Tom—except Tom the barkeep at the Leaky Cauldron, and he's a good man."
"So… did you and Tom Riddle have some conflict before that?" Autumn asked quietly, a puzzled crease on her brow.
"No." Hagrid shook his head immediately. "Never spoke to him once. But the reason's easy to guess."
He drained the rest of the keg and wiped his mouth.
"Hogwarts back then wasn't like it is now. Slytherin House was worse—far worse. Mixed-blood kids had an awful time, let alone someone like me."
"That Tom was mixed-blood too, but he had a real talent for charming people. He gathered a whole group around him. Maybe he wanted to climb his way into the pure-blood circle, so he picked on mixed-bloods even more viciously. Dumbledore saw right through him from the start—that's why he didn't believe his accusations. But sadly, there was only one Dumbledore."
"Professor Sprout was here too back then—not as a professor yet, just an assistant. She didn't stand up publicly, but she secretly helped me a lot when I became Groundskeeper. I don't blame her—it was dangerous for her to help me at all. Things only calmed down after Dumbledore became Headmaster."
"That's all I know. It's not much help to you. Honestly, I'd already given up. Hearing that you kids want to help me…" His eyes shimmered with tears. "It means more than you know."
He pulled out a handkerchief the size of a tablecloth and blew his nose loudly.
"You kids should really spend your time studying. Don't waste too much time on an old man's troubles."
"But I'm grateful. Truly."
He forced a gentle smile.
"Go enjoy your weekend. Off you go. I'll take care of myself—you take care of yourselves too. And don't go doing anything dangerous."