The water in the copper kettle over the brazier came to a boil, gurgling as bubbles rose, and the room fell silent for a moment.
Hagrid looked himself over—left, then right—and, seeing no change whatsoever, sniffed the remaining biscuits in puzzlement.
Outside came a thunderous, booming bark. A black boarhound was tromping in from the edge of the pumpkin patch.
"Fang!"
Hagrid exclaimed, then rushed out of the hut.
"I think Fang's back—he's very gentle. You'll like him."
And then Sean was the only one left inside.
He stared for a long time at the pumpkin field outside, recalling a giant's exceptionally high resistance to magic.
A giant's thick hide—like a natural suit of armor—can deflect or blunt the force of spells.
In Order of the Phoenix, when the Ministry's Umbridge tried to drive Hagrid out of Hogwarts, she led Aurors to seize him by force. McGonagall, shielding him with her own body, was struck by multiple spells and badly weakened. Hagrid, after taking several spells himself, was still unharmed and broke through their lines.
There are other examples—like the battle at the Astronomy Tower, when Hagrid faced a group of Death Eaters. Their spells could do nothing to him; they had to set his hut on fire to distract him.
All of which is to say: ordinary-strength spells—or transfigurations—won't do much to a giant.
So, time to increase the dose.
Sean took out all his remaining stock from his bag—five more Kneazle transformation biscuits.
(Originally they'd been called Mrs. Norris Biscuits, but the name had been changed later to make selling easier.)
The door creaked open. From behind the stacked feed sacks and pet supply crates loomed a broad silhouette, leading a black, fierce-looking boarhound.
"Looks like Fang's taken a shine to you," Hagrid said, letting him off the lead. Fang immediately hurled himself at Sean to lick his ears. Like Hagrid, Fang clearly wasn't as fearsome as he looked.
When Sean transfigured a bone and tossed it, Hagrid popped another biscuit into his mouth—and, as expected, nothing happened.
"I reckon these don't work on me, m'boy. It's all right. I'm used to it."
He said it lightly, but his expression was downright pitiful.
He looked at the remaining biscuits, clearly wondering what would happen if he ate three different ones at once… grow a stag's head, cat's paws, and owl's wings?
"You can't eat them at the same time," Sean reminded him quietly.
Each transformation biscuit carried his unique intent; eat them together and even the maker couldn't say what might happen.
But most likely the different intent-charged magics would clash—the transformation magic would rampage inside the user, not unlike a magical backlash.
"Oh—of course, of course you can't eat them together, ha—who would even think to do that… even a fool wouldn't…"
Hagrid laughed weakly, full of guilt, and finally wilted under Sean's steady stare.
"If there's no trouble, then that's luck enough—"
He snatched up the biscuit box in a flash; he couldn't fuss about niceties any longer.
"I still have a few," Sean said. Hagrid froze mid–hand-to-mouth, the biscuit now neither eaten nor put down.
His face slowly flushed.
"My stomach's not quite right just now," he said.
The stone brazier in the center of the hut was over a meter across. Hagrid took the matching giant copper kettle off the fire; it wasn't time for tea yet, but he plainly wanted to keep himself busy.
Sean placed his last five in Hagrid's hands, and the giant, who had been so eager a moment ago, grew oddly bashful.
"These look very precious. Must've been hard to buy so many before the other wizards. If you give them all to me, what will you play with yourself?"
He rubbed his hands together, peeking at Sean.
It had been hard—if Manager Gert knew he still had that much stock, she'd give him an earful. And the shop's dun-owl hadn't even come yet today… that owl was nearly as temperamental as Mr. Owl.
Sean shook his head. "Go on—try them. It's fine."
Hagrid decided it must be his lucky day. He downed all five in a few bites, patted his belly, and winked at Sean:
"Oh, I never thought in me life I'd turn into an animal. Merlin's beard—thank yeh, Sean. An' that alchemy master who invented these biscuits—if I ever meet 'im, I'll give 'im some rock cakes…"
While Hagrid muttered, Sean—thanked twice—said nothing, simply waiting with him for something to happen.
Different wizards can yield different forms for the same animal. One might be a black cat; another, a white.
Could such a transformation… be guided?
The thought sprang into Sean's mind.
There are plenty of cat breeds: Norwegian Forest Cats, Maine Coons that resist the cold; sand cats that live in deserts…
Magic is such that the more you learn and master, the stronger you become. Sean filed the notion away.
As he pondered, Hagrid's eager face slowly cooled. Fur sprouted on his cheeks—and then… nothing.
The air fell into an odd silence. Hagrid stroked the fur on his face.
"See—there's something, at least?"
A chill wind skimmed the treetops at the forest's edge, rattling the pumpkin patch outside.
Sean was a bit helpless. Extremely high magic resistance wasn't always a blessing, it seemed.
Just as Hagrid was giving up hope, a fierce-looking owl streaked across the gray-blue sky, smashed into a window of Hagrid's hut, and burst it open.
It dropped a parcel and a letter and flew off.
"A bold owl, that—"
Hagrid boomed in admiration. He recognized the letter at once—a Howler:
The envelope was red; as soon as Sean took it, the corners began to smoke—if you didn't open it in time, the consequences could be severe.
["My dear boss—if you'd like to return from holiday to find your Weezes not torn down by angry customers, send me transformation biscuits—five! whole! days! I've received nothing except word that you're 'still busy!'
May an alchemy master as brilliant as you—fit to stand alongside Nicolas Flamel—remember that you own a little business in Diagon Alley.
And that there's a poor lady manager in that little business… who's being driven mad by frantic customers!"]
The Howler's voice was deafening. When it finished, it burst into flame and burned itself to ash.
~~~
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