The thick snow crunched underfoot, and the cold wind whipped snow flurries against their faces with a bone-chilling bite.
Ron hunched his shoulders. When Professor Grubbly-Plank announced that Hagrid was unwell and couldn't teach class, he watched her retreating back and couldn't help elbowing Harry. "Hagrid, feeling under the weather? Last time a whole crate of Blast-Ended Skrewts exploded and made his hands bleed, and he acted like nothing happened."
His voice was low but full of teasing.
Harry had been staring blankly at the snow tracks on the ground when Ron's elbow knocked him off balance.
Before he could respond, Ron added another comment. "I reckon he's lovesick, don't you think?"
Harry was speechless.
Well, you might actually be right about that!
On Christmas night, Hagrid had foolishly asked Madame Maxime about being a half-giant. She had turned on her back immediately, grabbed her skirts, and stormed off in fury. What could have been a budding relationship had frozen over completely.
With his romantic prospects ruined, it was entirely possible that Hagrid had no heart for teaching and had arranged for a substitute.
"Sherlock, is this why you said earlier that we wouldn't be seeing the Blast-Ended Skrewts today?" Hermione's voice interrupted their thoughts.
She glanced around at the whispering students. The Gryffindor lions huddled together in hushed conversation, while the Slytherin serpents stood with arms crossed, watching coldly from the sidelines.
Harry and Ron perked up immediately.
Right! Why beat around the bush? Just ask Sherlock directly!
"First, Hagrid's absence from class is not due to heartbreak, or rather, not purely due to heartbreak. Second, I know about this because I spoke with Dumbledore this morning." Sherlock looked at Harry as he spoke.
Harry immediately understood that they must have been discussing the Horcruxes.
"Finally, Hagrid has indeed encountered a small problem, but the situation remains under Dumbledore's control."
"What problem?" Harry and Ron asked urgently.
"You lot—no chatting, keep up with me!" Professor Grubbly-Plank noticed them whispering and shot a glare in Sherlock and Harry's direction.
Harry and Ron had no choice but to suppress their curiosity and reluctantly follow the rather ill-tempered professor's pace.
Hermione shook her head helplessly and quickened her steps as well. She looked back at Hagrid's hut, where all the curtains were drawn shut. She couldn't help but wonder to herself: Sherlock said Hagrid had encountered a small problem—was he inside right now?
Professor Grubbly-Plank led them past the stables. The wooden fence was piled high with snow, and occasionally wisps of white breath from the horses drifted through the gaps.
Inside the enclosure, the Beauxbatons horses huddled together against the cold. Their manes gleamed in the snow light, and their long tails swished occasionally to sweep off the accumulated snow.
The group continued northward toward the edge of the Forbidden Forest. The closer they got to the forest, the denser the trees became, their bare branches reaching toward the sky like countless withered hands.
When they reached a stout oak tree, everyone stopped involuntarily. Tethered beneath the tree was a unicorn. Its silvery-white mane was so dazzling in the sunlight that it was impossible to look away, and beside it, even the surrounding snow seemed dull and gray.
"Wow—" Whether boys or girls, everyone couldn't help but gasp in admiration at the sight of the unicorn.
Except for a few individuals, most had forgotten all about Professor Hagrid and his Blast-Ended Skrewts.
"Oh, it's absolutely beautiful!" Lavender exclaimed, her voice trembling. "How did she catch it? I heard unicorns are extremely wary and very difficult to capture!"
The unicorn seemed to have heard the commotion. It pawed nervously at the snow with its golden hooves, raised its horned head, and its clear eyes swept over the approaching students with a hint of wariness.
"Boys, step back! All of you, back!" Professor Grubbly-Plank suddenly shouted sternly, waving her arms.
Her movements were so quick that they caught everyone off guard. Ron had been craning his neck forward when he was suddenly elbowed in the chest. He grunted, clutched his chest, and staggered back two steps.
Ron wore an expression of pure grievance as he looked at Professor Grubbly-Plank, who seemed completely unaware. He strongly suspected the professor was retaliating for their earlier whispering, but unfortunately, he had no proof.
"Unicorns prefer female company," Professor Grubbly-Plank said, her tone softening slightly as she beckoned to the girls. "Girls, come to the front. Approach it slowly—don't frighten it. Come on, relax..."
The girls responded excitedly, forming a line and walking carefully toward the unicorn. The boys remained by the stable fence with disappointed expressions, gripping the rails and watching wistfully.
Once Harry saw that Professor Grubbly-Plank had moved far enough away and couldn't hear them, he immediately turned and grabbed Sherlock's sleeve, lowering his voice to ask, "Sherlock, what exactly happened to Hagrid?"
Ron also leaned in, rubbing his still-aching chest and nodding. "Yeah, yeah, tell us—ow, that elbow really hurt..."
Sherlock didn't answer directly. He simply smiled faintly and turned to look in a particular direction. Harry and Ron followed his gaze and saw Malfoy leaning against a tree, talking to Crabbe and Goyle.
The two exchanged confused glances—what did this have to do with Hagrid?
Fortunately, Sherlock didn't keep them guessing long and walked straight toward Malfoy.
Malfoy was speaking enthusiastically when he caught sight of Sherlock approaching. The smile on his face froze instantly. He instinctively stepped backward, his voice trembling. "Holmes, what... what do you want?"
Ever since Gemma had warned him that time, Malfoy had behaved himself and never provoked Sherlock or Harry again. For one thing, he feared Sherlock's methods. He had learned his lesson thoroughly—despite Crabbe and Goyle's imposing size, all three of them together were no match for Sherlock.
For another, Pansy Parkinson had been distracting him. After all, he was a teenage boy, and after tasting forbidden fruit, it was perfectly normal to develop an appetite for it.
He hadn't expected that even when he minded his own business, trouble would come looking for him.
Sherlock stopped in front of him and extended his hand. "Give it to me."
"What?" Malfoy was momentarily confused and instinctively touched his pocket.
"Today's Daily Prophet." Sherlock's tone grew impatient, his sharp gaze fixed on Malfoy's pocket. "I know you have it."
Malfoy's expression changed. Reluctantly, he reached into his robe pocket and pulled out a neatly folded newspaper. However, though his fingers gripped the edge of the paper, he hesitated to hand it over. "B-but..."
"Give it here!" Ron had been waiting impatiently.
Before Malfoy could finish speaking, Ron stepped forward and snatched the newspaper from his hand. This action immediately soothed the chest that Professor Grubbly-Plank had elbowed earlier.
Malfoy looked stunned. For a moment, he even considered having Crabbe and Goyle attack. But catching Sherlock's cold, indifferent gaze from the corner of his eye, he suppressed the impulse.
Patience brings calm, retreat brings clarity!
Sherlock alone was more than they could handle, not to mention Harry's godfather, Sirius Black, who had made a powerful return and become a hero figure even the Ministry of Magic relied upon.
The Malfoy father and son had always prided themselves on being members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight pure-blood families. But compared to the House of Black, the Malfoy family really didn't measure up. Besides, Malfoy's mother Narcissa was herself from the Black family.
Moreover, at the Christmas Ball, he had seen clearly that Gemma Farley had also danced with Sherlock. Malfoy didn't know about Gemma becoming a dragon trainer, so he assumed, by his own standards, that Gemma was to Sherlock what Pansy was to himself.
He didn't want to bring trouble to his family. The Malfoy family wasn't powerful enough to simultaneously oppose the House of Black, the Farley family, and the Potter family—even though the Potter family now consisted only of Harry Potter.
But Harry was the wizarding world's Chosen One, the only one to thwart the Dark Lord, the Boy Who Lived... His influence alone was enough to support an entire family.
So both Lucius Malfoy and Draco Malfoy were actually somewhat grateful to Gemma Farley. It was her reminder and warning that had prompted Malfoy to apologize to Harry at school in time, preventing their conflict from escalating to an irreconcilable level.
As for Ronald Weasley... he was just lucky to have latched onto Sherlock and Harry's coattails early.
Therefore, he must exercise restraint!
Sherlock and Harry both looked at Ron with some surprise. When had he become so bold?
But Harry's attention was quickly drawn entirely to the newspaper. Not just him—Neville, Dean, Seamus, and other boys who couldn't approach the unicorn gathered around to see.
The newspaper featured an article with Hagrid's photograph. The photographer must have caught him at an unfortunate moment—the expression on his face looked decidedly furtive.
Below the photo was the headline:
DUMBLEDORE'S GIANT MISTAKE
Special correspondent Rita Skeeter reports: Albus Dumbledore, the eccentric headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has never been afraid to hire controversial teachers.
Last September, he hired an extremely controversial instructor to teach Care of Magical Creatures—Rubeus Hagrid.
Rubeus Hagrid has admitted that he was expelled from Hogwarts in his third year for keeping a dangerous creature. Since then, he has served as the school's gamekeeper and keeper of keys—a position arranged for him by none other than the then-Transfiguration professor, Dumbledore.
If it were only this, we might consider that Dumbledore simply cared about students and meant no harm. But just last year, Hagrid mysteriously exerted influence over the headmaster, winning himself the position of Care of Magical Creatures teacher over many more qualified candidates.
Hagrid is a man of enormous stature and fierce appearance who has abused his newly acquired authority by bringing in a series of terrifying creatures to intimidate the students in his care.
In a series of lessons described by many as "absolutely horrifying," Hagrid has already caused several students to be injured and disabled, while Dumbledore turns a blind eye.
According to informed sources, in his very first lesson, Hagrid exposed third-year students to Hippogriffs, creatures with an XXX classification.
One student who wishes to remain anonymous said, "My friends and I have all been injured in this class—we hate Hagrid, but we dare not speak out."
However, Hagrid has no intention of stopping his intimidation tactics. To avoid negative consequences from this matter, he has even resorted to despicable methods, using gifts of Puffskeins and the like to silence teachers and students.
Last month, in conversation with a Daily Prophet reporter, he admitted to breeding a creature he has named "Blast-Ended Skrewts," a cross between Manticores and Fire Crabs that poses considerable danger.
The breeding of new magical creature species is normally closely monitored by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures at the Ministry of Magic. Yet Hagrid believes he can bypass such tedious regulations.
"I just thought it would be fun," he said, offering this obviously perfunctory explanation before hastily changing the subject.
However, these are merely minor details about Rubeus Hagrid. The Daily Prophet has recently discovered evidence that Hagrid is not the pure-blood wizard he has always pretended to be. In fact, he isn't even fully human.
We can exclusively reveal that his mother was the giantess Fridwulfa, whose current whereabouts are unknown.
Giants are naturally brutal and bloodthirsty, nearly driven to extinction last century through their own internecine warfare. The dozen or so survivors joined the service of You-Know-Who, and during his reign of terror, they were responsible for some of the most vicious Muggle massacres.
Many of the giants serving You-Know-Who died at the hands of Aurors fighting against the Dark forces, but Fridwulfa was not among them. She likely escaped to one of the giant communities still existing in foreign mountain regions.
However, if we analyze the bizarre behavior in Care of Magical Creatures classes, Fridwulfa's son seems to have inherited his mother's brutal nature.
Unexpectedly, Hagrid is said to have formed a close friendship with a certain boy—the very boy who stripped You-Know-Who of power, forcing Hagrid's own mother, like You-Know-Who's other followers, to hide and live in fear.
We believe Harry Potter may not yet be aware of these disturbing facts about his oversized friend.
An anonymous professor has stated that Dumbledore's controversial choices extend beyond just the Care of Magical Creatures position.
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