Rubeus Hagrid

Chapter 17: Rubeus Hagrid

Several towering trees concealed them well, hidden from anyone in the castle's direction.

"You're not thinking of planting those fungi here, are you?"

"Of course not."

Brook's mind stirred, and the flowerpot in his arms vanished in an instant.

Hermione stared, dumbfounded, her face full of question marks.

Brook placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder.

"Come on, I'll take you somewhere."

"Oh. Okay."

Then Hermione's vision blurred.

The trees around them disappeared, replaced by an immense, empty space with only a bare mountain before them.

"Where is this?"

Hermione's eyes brimmed with curiosity.

"One of my ancestors was a wizard. This is his only heirloom. I only recently figured out how to use it."

"Your ancestor was actually a wizard." Hermione was astonished.

"Had one, that's all."

"This place is amazing. You can even see the sun."

Brook only then noticed that the stars from last night were gone, replaced by a fiery red sun.

It seemed this space mirrored the outside world—stars and sun cycling as usual.

"Alright, put the flowerpot down. We'll plant them here."

"Oh."

Brook pointed to a patch of open ground nearby.

"I need a twenty-square-meter greenhouse, temperature constant between twenty and thirty degrees Celsius, humidity kept between eighty-five and ninety-five percent."

As his words fell, a greenhouse materialized out of thin air.

Brook felt a wave of fatigue, but it was much milder than last night.

"This... this is incredible."

Hermione's mouth hung wide open, big enough to fit a corn cob.

"It's a function of this space. I can reshape it however I want."

"How amazing!"

Brook began transplanting the fungi one by one, following the method Professor Sprout had just taught him.

Though he only planted a few fungi, he felt a peculiar sense of satisfaction.

As if some bloodline within him was slowly awakening.

He suddenly wanted to plant more things.

Not for food.

Just for the pure joy of planting.

Brook gazed at his work with contentment.

Hermione had been helping too, and now both of them were grimy, covered in dirt.

"Alright, let's head back to guard the tower!"

Brook placed his hand on Hermione's shoulder.

In a flash, they reappeared in the Forbidden Forest.

They were about to return to the castle.

Suddenly, a loud roar came.

"Little wizards, you're forbidden from entering the Forbidden Forest!"

Hermione's heart skipped a beat, and her face crumpled instantly.

We're done for.

Brook frowned slightly and looked toward the source of the voice.

A giant over three meters tall was striding toward them.

Oh, it's Hagrid.

Thank goodness!

As Hagrid drew near, Brook explained.

"We didn't enter the Forbidden Forest. We were just talking here for a moment."

"Talk?"

Hagrid eyed them suspiciously, then noticed that while they had dirt on them, there were no scratches from branches.

A knowing, almost maternal smile spread across his face.

"Strange creatures do wander near the edge of the Forbidden Forest. You'd still best 'watch your step.'"

"Are you Hagrid?" Hermione asked cautiously.

"You know me." Hagrid's face lit up with surprise.

"I heard Potter call you that," Hermione explained.

"Rubeus Hagrid, Key Keeper at Hogwarts. I usually patrol the Forbidden Forest to keep young witches and wizards from going in."

"We really weren't planning to enter the Forbidden Forest."

Hermione explained again, a hint of helplessness in her tone.

Hagrid nodded his big head, looking like he believed them—or at least pretended to.

Brook introduced himself and Hermione to Hagrid.

"You're Gryffindor students, then."

"Hagrid, could we visit your hut?" Brook suddenly suggested.

"Really? You'd want to come to my hut?"

Hagrid looked overjoyed, with even a trace of nervousness and anticipation.

"Of course, as long as you don't mind."

"Welcome, very welcome. You can come anytime," Hagrid said warmly.

Hermione really wanted to head back to the castle for a bath, but since Brook had already said it, she had no choice but to follow.

Hagrid's hut wasn't far, and he cheerfully led the way.

"Woof woof!"

As soon as they reached the hut, a big black dog charged over, its wet tongue hanging out.

If that dog stood on its hind legs, it would probably be as tall as Hermione.

Hagrid was quick—he grabbed the dog by the collar.

"This is Fang. He doesn't bite."

He explained as he fastened Fang's leash to a post.

Brook and the others didn't react much.

A big dog was nothing unusual.

"Come on in, the place is a bit small."

Hagrid pushed the door open and warmly invited them inside.

Hagrid's hut was indeed cramped, especially for someone his size.

The furnishings were sparse.

The bed was just a wooden plank propped up on stones.

The bedding was patched with all sorts of bright colors.

It had a bit of a jungle vibe.

As they chatted, Brook gradually realized that Hagrid was incredibly simple at heart.

"Simple" wasn't quite the right word for Hagrid, either.

He was more like a child living in an ivory tower, with no guard up against the outside world.

Every joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness was written plainly on his face.

Brook didn't even need to pry deliberately.

He'd just start a casual topic, and Hagrid would spill everything he knew, like a dam breaking.

As if Brook were an old friend he'd known for years.

But what set him apart was that Hagrid had unique takes on many things.

It was like "everyone else is drunk, but I alone am sober."

Take Hogwarts sorting students by their traits, for example.

Hagrid didn't comment on Slytherin.

Because bloodline came first there, personality second.

As for how the other three houses sorted students, He always thought the Sorting Hat was nonsense.

Hagrid mentioned someone, but for some reason, he didn't reveal that person's name.

"I'm telling you, that man graduated from Gryffindor. By all rights, Gryffindor values courage. But what happened? He betrayed his own friends and got them killed! What kind of courage is that?"

Hagrid's face was full of anger.

"He's just a born bad seed! He should've been sorted into Slytherin, like the rest of his family."

"And I know plenty of people from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. They've got extraordinary courage too, no less than Gryffindor."

Brook listened quietly.

Hermione, meanwhile, was lost in thought.

The Sorting Hat had initially wanted to put her in Ravenclaw, but then decided she had plenty of courage.

In the end, after a long struggle, the Hat sorted her into Gryffindor.

(Rubeus Hagrid is one of Little Author's favorite characters, so he'll have a bit more screen time.)