The following morning, the paralyzing nausea and vertigo induced by the Emergency Portkey had finally subsided. Fred and George emerged from the Hospital Wing looking pale but energetic, their natural exuberance only slightly dampened by the memory of the giant, eight-legged horrors.
They made their way directly to the Great Hall, where they found Albert enjoying a leisurely, late breakfast, surrounded by a mountain of books.
"Look who decided to rejoin the world of the living," Albert greeted them, wiping a smudge of bacon grease from his cheek.
"Barely living, mate," Fred grumbled, sliding onto the bench. "I feel like I spent the entire night being wrung out by a giant, angry dishrag."
George, his eyes immediately drawn to a peculiar, large, brightly colored bag next to Albert's bench, asked, "What in the name of Merlin is this curious parcel? Did you purchase a new, oversized pet?"
"Dog food," Albert replied without looking up from his copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. "High-grade mixture, special order from a magical creature supplier. It's for Fang, or rather, as I think of him, Yaya. He earned a reward for his services the other night."
"Ah, the lumbering beast actually helped?" George interjected, only half-joking. "I still maintain the centaurs should get the credit, seeing as they pointed you toward our dazzling fireworks."
"Fang was instrumental in tracking your specific scent through a very dense and confused trail of creatures," Albert corrected smoothly. "His contribution was substantial, even if his courage is… selective."
Albert closed his book. "Now, I was thinking of dropping by Hagrid's cabin later to deliver this. Care to join? I'm sure he'd love to hear your tales of daring-do."
The twins exchanged a rapid, nervous glance that Albert easily caught.
"Uh, no thanks, Albert," Fred stammered, fiddling with a crust of bread. "We're actually, er, planning a serious catch-up session at the library. That detention starts soon, and we haven't finished half our holiday homework. Right, George?"
"Absolutely! The library. A mountain of work. We simply can't be distracted by… well, by anything, really," George added quickly.
Albert merely smiled, knowing full well that both twins were terrified of facing Hagrid's inevitable, guilt-ridden lecture about their recklessness and the danger they had brought to Fang. He didn't press the matter.
A short while later, Albert made the solitary walk down to Hagrid's kennel. He carried the heavy bag of premium dog food, savoring the cool, crisp air after the claustrophobic confinement of the Hospital Wing. The sun was warm, filtering through the bare branches of the trees, a stark contrast to the oppressive, shadowed terror of the forest just two nights prior.
Albert's mind, always active, was running a complex financial calculation. The 50 Galleons from the Acromantula venom sale, combined with the immense influx of Experience Points from his completed quests, was a phenomenal haul. He had survived a near-fatal encounter and turned it into the most profitable adventure of his life so far. He was now positioned perfectly to level up his Charms skills and further his reputation quest.
He found Hagrid sitting by a crackling fire, boiling water, while Fang (or Yaya, as Albert preferred to call the hound internally) was enthusiastically chewing on a piece of bone.
"Albert! Come in, come in!" Hagrid waved him over, his tone a mix of relief and barely contained irritation.
"Just dropping off a gift for the hero of the hour," Albert said, placing the heavy bag on the floor. Fang immediately bounded over, sniffing the exotic scents coming from the bag with great excitement.
"Ah, Fang did good, didn't you, old boy?" Hagrid rubbed the hound's head with a hand the size of a catcher's mitt.
"He was essential," Albert confirmed, taking a seat at the rough-hewn table. "We genuinely had to rely on Fang's guidance last time. I don't think I would have found the precise location of the red sparks without his tracking ability."
Hagrid frowned, pouring two steaming mugs of his potent, amber-colored tea. He settled his massive frame onto his stool, his hands on his hips. "You shouldn't have gone out there alone at midnight, Albert! That was profoundly reckless."
Albert met the giant man's gaze steadily. "But, Hagrid, didn't you tell me that if I had Fang by my side, I'd be safe from most of the common beasts in the forest? That the creatures wouldn't dare touch a friend of his?"
Hagrid stammered, his enormous face clouding with confusion. "Did—did I say tha' exactly?"
"You certainly gave me that impression," Albert insisted, allowing a hint of feigned certainty to color his tone. "Otherwise, why would I have dared to take the risk? I needed to believe I had some insurance."
"Well, alright, then I'll concede that I probably did say something along those lines," Hagrid grumbled, trying desperately to recall a conversation that had never actually occurred. He clearly didn't want to contradict Albert, who was, after all, his rescuer.
"And it wasn't an entirely false belief," Albert continued, taking a sip of the tea, which tasted strongly of soot and birch. "While Fang proved to be… timid when faced with the creatures, his early warning systems were impeccable. He certainly earned his reward." He tossed a large, bone-shaped, exotic biscuit to Fang, who devoured it instantly.
Hagrid's expression, however, remained troubled. "Professor Brood mentioned… he said you defeated a great number of those Giant Eight-Eyed Spiders in the forest."
"Ninety-four, according to my count," Albert stated calmly, leaning in slightly. "And that, Hagrid, is precisely what concerns me."
He set his mug down, his expression becoming solemn. "I've looked them up. They are called Acromantulas. They are not native to this country; they originate deep in the rainforests of Southeast Asia. They are Class XXXXX beasts—untameable, highly venomous, and notoriously carnivorous."
Albert fixed the gamekeeper with a piercing look. "They should not be in the Forbidden Forest. Their numbers are too great, and their presence indicates one of two things: either they are breeding wildly and unchecked, or, more disturbingly, someone intentionally introduced them to the ecosystem."
Hagrid's face had gone a peculiar shade of crimson, and he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding Albert's eyes.
"It's no joke, Hagrid," Albert continued, pressing the point. "If those creatures are breeding exponentially—and they certainly are—they will soon pose a threat not just to Hogwarts students, but to the entire surrounding village of Hogsmeade. They are incredibly dangerous."
"They ain't… they ain't as bad as all tha'," Hagrid mumbled, his voice tight. "They got their own territory, they keep to themselves…"
"Keep to themselves?" Albert repeated, his voice incredulous. "Hagrid, I personally fought a swarm that was actively attempting to capture and consume my friends. They had surrounded the Guardian Tree, and their numbers were overwhelming. If I had arrived even ten minutes later, you would not have found the Weasley twins' bodies in the forest. You would have only found their remains."
Hagrid sank lower onto his stool, defeated by the inescapable logic and the horrifying images Albert's words conjured.
"They are related to you, aren't they?" Albert asked, shifting his tone to a low, quiet certainty. "You're protecting them. You released them into the forest, perhaps decades ago."
He saw the immediate flinch of guilt in Hagrid's eyes.
"Don't deny it," Albert said gently, raising a hand to cut off any attempt at denial. "The simple fact that you are defending creatures that just tried to eat three first-years confirms it. Giant Spiders don't naturally materialize in the Highlands. You have a profound responsibility here, Hagrid. Just because they don't eat you doesn't mean they won't hesitate to devour your friends, or any unsuspecting student who wanders into their hunting ground."
Albert leaned back, observing the distressed gamekeeper. He knew this was the moment to deliver the second, far more serious warning—the one that had triggered the quest prompt.
"Hagrid, I need to remind you about something else—a sensitive matter, so listen carefully," Albert began, his voice dropping to a near whisper, ensuring only Hagrid could hear over the crackling fire. "Your extraordinary ability to handle these monstrous magical creatures, your size, and your general lack of fear around them… that all points to something. You possess Giant blood, don't you?"
Hagrid's face paled further, and he involuntarily drew back, his eyes darting toward the door as if checking for eavesdroppers. "Now look here, Albert, I don't know what you're talking about, I—"
"Don't deny it, and absolutely never admit it publicly," Albert cut him off sharply, his tone devoid of judgment but full of cold, clinical urgency. "Your secret is your shield, Hagrid. The fact that you have Giant blood is an enormous risk to you in the wider wizarding world. Wizards fear Giants as much, if not more, than they fear He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."
He paused, letting the severity of the comparison sink in.
"Think about it. If someone were looking for an excuse to have you removed from the school, or worse—if someone wanted to cause Dumbledore trouble by attacking one of his most loyal confidantes—that piece of information is a weapon. They would use it to twist your actions, your kindness towards dangerous beasts, and your very nature into a malicious attack against you."
Albert's gaze was solemn and penetrating. "I don't mean to be cruel, I'm simply being pragmatic. Your worldview, Hagrid, is shaped by your natural affinity and immense resilience. It's an innocent view—you see the beauty in a dangerous creature. But most people see only the danger and the darkness. Your life is valuable, and your position at Hogwarts is important. You have powerful enemies—everyone who supports Dumbledore does—and they will use any vulnerability to attack you."
He stood up, signaling the conversation's end. He knew he had gone far enough—he had shaken Hagrid and made his point without causing irrecoverable offense.
"I only offer this as a well-intentioned reminder, Hagrid," Albert concluded, his hand resting briefly on the man's massive shoulder. "Be careful what you protect, and be even more careful what you reveal about yourself. My business here is done. I have to go study."
Albert quickly left the hut, walking away without looking back at the stunned gamekeeper.
As Albert reached the edge of the forest, the subtle, high-pitched ding of a successful task completion sounded in his mind.
Quest Update:
Your friend Rubeus Hagrid has a slightly different worldview regarding the danger of magical beasts and his own heritage. As his friend, you should fulfill your responsibility by reminding him of this before he makes a stupid mistake that could compromise his safety or position.
Reward: 500 Experience Points, and Rubeus Hagrid's Favor +5.
Albert felt a sudden, detached surge of satisfaction. The task was complete, the experience points banked, and the relationship stat boosted. The prompt framed his actions as a friendly duty, yet he knew the entire interaction had been coldly calculated—a necessary intervention to prevent a future disaster that would break the flow of his carefully structured school life.
It had been an act of self-preservation cleverly disguised as genuine compassion, and it had worked perfectly.