Chapter 109: The Giant's Doubt
The silence in Hagrid's hut was heavy, thick with the implications of his story. The firelight danced on the walls, making the shadows of the enormous furniture loom and twist. Elian watched as Harry, Ron, and Hermione processed the grim news. Giants, an army of them, likely throwing their lot in with Voldemort.
"What… what was the result?" Harry finally asked, his voice small against the weight of it.
Hagrid sighed, a sound like rocks shifting. "We found 'em, alright. A whole colony, seventy or eighty of 'em. It weren't easy, dodgin' the Ministry watchers they've got on anyone connected to Dumbledore." He prodded the raw steak against his bruised cheek. "They didn't try ter kill us on sight, if that's what yer askin'. Did just what Dumbledore said: bowed, laid our gift at the Gurg's feet—the chief, that is."
"A gift?" Ron perked up slightly. "Food?"
"Giants can find their own food," Hagrid said. "We gave 'em magic. The kind they respect. A branch of Ever-Fire."
Hermione's eyes widened. "A perpetual flame charm! That's incredibly advanced magic!"
"Yeah," Hagrid nodded, a flicker of pride in his sad eyes. "Dumbledore's own work. Burned bright even in the snow. The Gurg… he acknowledged it. Showed respect for Dumbledore's power."
"But did they agree?" Harry pressed, leaning forward.
Hagrid's massive shoulders slumped again. "Don't know. They speak Giant. An'… an' it's more complicated than that." He looked down at his giant-sized hands. "See, You-Know-Who… he don't like magical creatures. Not really. Pure-blood maniacs think they're… well, vermin. Beasts. But he's desperate now. Last time he rose, he had creatures fightin' for him—werewolves, giants, trolls—promisin' 'em a better world. They gave 'em everything."
He took a deep, shuddering breath. "An' then he fell. An' the creatures who'd followed him… they were left worse off than before. Hunted, hated, driven deeper into the wilds. They paid a high price for backin' the wrong wizard."
Hermione's sharp mind made the connection first. "So they're hesitating. They remember the last failure. They're afraid of being betrayed again."
"Exactly!" Hagrid said, pointing a thick finger at her. "That's the crack! That's why Dumbledore sent me. Not ter recruit 'em for us, but ter keep 'em out. Ter remind 'em that the Dark Lord's promises are hollow. That he sees 'em as tools, not allies."
"But… did it work?" Ron asked, though the answer was clear from Hagrid's wounds.
Hagrid shook his shaggy head. "The Gurg took the gift. Listened. But the Death Eaters… they were already there, whisperin' promises of conquest, of revenge on the wizards who've pushed 'em around. They're offerin' the giants a chance ter be the strong ones for once. It's a powerful thing, that promise." He touched the gash on his hand. "We were… encouraged ter leave. Forcefully."
The despair in the room was palpable. Dementors were already turning. If the giants fell too, the balance of power would tilt catastrophically.
"It's hopeless then," Ron muttered, slumping in his chair.
Harry looked furious, his hands clenched. "We can't just let it happen!"
"Harry, what can we possibly do against giants?" Hermione asked, her voice full of pragmatic despair. "We're just students."
It was then that Elian spoke. He had been silent so long, his calm presence almost forgotten. Now, all eyes turned to him. He wasn't looking at his friends, but at Hagrid, his gaze steady and clear.
"Hagrid," Elian said, his voice quiet but cutting through the gloom like a knife. "You know where they are. The giant colony. Could you take me there?"
A stunned silence followed, broken only by Fang's whimper.
"Take you there?" Hagrid boomed, half-rising from his chair. "Are yeh mad, boy? It's not a school trip! They'd squash yeh like a flobberworm!"
"Not to fight them," Elian said, his expression unchanging. "To talk to them. Or rather, to show them something."
"Show them what?" Harry asked, a wild hope dawning in his eyes.
Elian met his gaze. "That there is another kind of power in this world. One that doesn't come from a wand, or a club, or empty promises. One that Voldemort doesn't understand and can't control. A power that respects nothing but itself."
He turned back to Hagrid. "You said they respect magic. The Ever-Fire impressed them because it was strong, lasting magic from a great wizard. I have… a different kind of magic. One that might speak to them in a language they haven't heard before. A language of pure force, not persuasion."
Hagrid stared at him, his small eyes wide with a mixture of terror and awe. He was remembering the stories from the Order meeting, the things Moody and Sirius had said about the Christmas attack. The golden shields, the flying, the captured Fenrir Greyback.
"Yeh mean… yer other magic?" Hagrid whispered. "The… the strange stuff?"
Elian gave a single, slight nod. "They're uncertain. They remember betrayal. I won't offer them promises. I'll offer them a demonstration. A reason to doubt that Voldemort is the strongest force they can follow. A reason, perhaps, to stay neutral."
Hermione's hand flew to her mouth. Ron looked utterly baffled. Harry's face was alight with a fierce, desperate faith.
"Blimey," Hagrid breathed, sinking back into his chair. The idea was insane. Suicidal. But the look in Elian Throne's eyes wasn't one of bravado. It was cold, clear calculation. It was the look of a general assessing a new battlefield.
The Supreme Mage System's mission glowed in Elian's mind: 'Demonstrate a power that challenges their understanding of strength.'
He intended to do just that.
(End of Chapter)
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