Hogwarts Reimagined

CW: Outing and discussion of fantasy bigotry (not Rhiannon!)

Rhiannon had expected a scathing Prophet article to be published the day after the Yule Ball. When one was not forthcoming, she expected it the next day, and the next – but eventually Christmas finally arrived and there was no article, and Rhiannon had to put her anxieties aside in favour of culturally mandated holiday excitement.

Remus had stayed at the castle for the Yule Ball, and by the time it had come and gone he was feeling too unwell to Floo home, so Rhiannon and Dudley stayed in the castle with him, Sirius made plans to arrive on Christmas Eve and bring Xenophilius with him and Hermione, Luna and the Weasleys changed their Christmas plans to stay in the castle. Neville left as he always did – he always spent his Christmases with his parents, who he was very cautious and protective about, but Rhiannon gathered they had been hurt somehow in the past war and would never completely recover, and that they wouldn’t do well with a sudden routine change like their son no longer coming to visit.

Aside from the Weasleys, Luna and Hermione, virtually all the Hogwarts students had gone home, leaving the castle populated only by the exchange students and a scant handful of leftover Hogwarts students and faculty. Boxing Day night would be the first full moon transformation so Rhiannon and Dudley both felt pretty terrible by the time Christmas Day dawned, snowing and bitterly cold with the weather forecast to get only worse throughout the day. That thoroughly ruled out Christmas Quidditch. So Rhiannon, Dudley, Luna, Hermione, Ginny and the twins all piled into Remus’ cosy Head of Department suites to open presents and share body heat.

This year, Rhiannon was more excited about the gifts she had got for others than whatever her own presents might have inside. Dudley’s had arrived just in time – after Rhiannon had put a heavily-edited version of their story in the Quibbler they had hit their donation goal pretty quickly, but it had taken a solid month and a half just to make the thing. Technically it wasn’t a total surprise gift, Dudley had had to be involved every step of the way to get the measurements right, but the whole family and their friends were so excited about the damn thing it didn’t matter that they all knew what was in the giant box with the green wrapping.

Dudley knew, and though he’d professed that he could hardly wait to ditch his cane, when they all settled in Remus’ sitting room he changed his tune completely and instead decided to make them all wait, retrieving a gift for Ginny instead. This one Rhiannon recognised too, wrapped up in purple paper identical to one she had made for Luna, and she bounced in her chair in excitement as Ginny took the lead from their boyfriend and unwrapped the package as slowly as possible, cackling at everyone’s exasperated groans, until finally a round green badge about the size of a child’s palm tumbled out of the tissue paper into their lap.

“I know I was bein’ a dork about it, but really, uh – what is it?” Ginny asked, tilting the badge back and forth. Closer inspection revealed a pin on the back – it was all very sturdily made and clearly designed to be attached to clothing, although Rhiannon already knew that – she’d helped Dudley make the thing in Flitwick’s Enchanting club.

“It’s a badge! If you’re feeling like a guy, you just, twist this knob on the back, and – yep, there,” Dudley explained, demonstrating with the badge as he did so. The badge, previously a blank green, turned red and white lettering appeared on it. “So it’s got he/him pronouns and if you feel like going by a different name any time I can reconfigure it to make space for that on top too. There’s also – yep, blue’s for she/her and I left it green for they/them, I can add different ones if you ever feel like changing it up,” Dudley finished, leaning forward in his seat as he took in Ginny’s reaction to the gift that, though he wouldn’t tell anyone, had taken months of very careful handiwork with an engraving tool and more than a little help from Rhiannon and her wand, as Dudley hadn’t quite got the hang of harnessing ambient magic yet. “Do you – d’you like it?”

Ginny let out an excited little squeak and narrowly avoiding impaling Dudley with the spike of the badge as they pulled him into a tight hug. “I love it – no wonder you hid all your work when I asked about what you were doing in Enchanting!” they replied.

Rhiannon fiddled with her hair and got up to retrieve a similar purple-wrapped package from where she had tucked it at the back of the little gift pile beside the fireplace. “And, uh – I guess the surprise’s dead, but – we worked on them together. Merry Yule, Luna,” she added awkwardly, and shoved the package at her girlfriend.

Luna didn’t seem to mind the lack of a surprise, and carefully unwrapped the package to reveal a palm-sized badge identical to Ginny’s. She turned the knob until the badge turned blue, and pinned it to her chest with a shaky grin. “Making Yule gifts, it’s... well, you know we’re not exactly wealthy, so when my mother was alive we’d all make eachother something every year, and now that she’s not... we haven’t done that, not in a while. When we made Neville’s tablet together, that was kind of like it, and this is a bit like it again – it all sort of, adds up and, I’m rambling now.”

Xenophilius, his gangly frame folded up in a small armchair in the corner, looked distinctly teary-eyed at the memory, and Luna got up and flopped down on her father for a comforting hug. There wasn’t a dry eye left in the room and they all took several moments to compose themselves, after which Dudley evidently decided he’d made his family wait long enough and reached out to make grabby hands at the box. “The force!” he spluttered, reaching for humour as he evidently realised he’d only got half a plan here – without active magic, he had no way of summoning that box across the room to him.

“Accio box,” Remus supplied, sounding a little like he had the flu – but it was just full moon symptoms, he always felt them worse than the teenagers did.

The box scooted across the room and shuddered to a stop just before it bumped into Dudley’s feet. Dudley grumbled at the intervention but wasn’t so churlish as to turn down help with something he couldn’t do himself, and quickly set about tearing into the box that they all knew contained his new wheelchair.

Soon the machine was revealed. Made of gleaming wood, it was certainly different in design to a modern self-propelled wheelchair – the wheels themselves were designed to fold up when in flight and there was a knob on one side, but as Dudley quickly discovered its purpose was to camouflage the chair for use in the nonmagical world rather than steering. “I feel really stupid but uh... how do I steer this thing?” Dudley asked, wincing as he shifted position in the seat – the cushioning was fitted specifically so as to best avoid pressure that might cause pain and sores, but some level of pain was Dudley’s usual especially around the full moons.

“If there’s no controls... what I read when we ordered the thing was that it’s based somewhat on a broomstick, so it should be thought and motion directed. Just go easy – I think I remember something about a sensitivity switch, maybe best to keep wheels on the ground until we get out into the hallways,” Sirius suggested. “And I know there’s a harness, don’t let me catch you off the ground without it.”

“I won’t,” Dudley replied quickly, before he muttered under his breath, “let you catch me.”

“DUDLEY Benjamin Black, my ears are as good as yours,” Sirius retorted swiftly, with rather the air of a bristle-hackled dog about him. Dudley cackled, he had only been trying to rile his adoptive father anyway, and after Sirius had beaned Dudley in the face with a small pillow they carried on with the remainder of the gifts.

Rhiannon had been most excited for the enchanted badges and wheelchair, she wasn’t particularly concerned about her own gifts. Still, Mrs Weasley’s Russian fudge, caramel toffee and gingerbread biscuits were as tasty as ever even if she was only allowed a very small amount at a time, and she would never turn down books. She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about this year’s Weasley sweater, purple with a very familiar black dragon on the front, but decided pride was probably the reaction her friend’s mother had been looking for – she had outsmarted a dragon and lived to tell the tale after all, a little pride didn’t seem unwarranted. But Sirius took the prize for the most surprising gift – a folding knife with a handle of what felt like old antler that hummed with magic so strong Rhiannon’s fingertips buzzed before she even unwrapped it. The blade and handle both were etched with runes, and Sirius explained that it was enchanted to pick locks and untie knots easily. Dudley was given a similar one, though a little longer and heavier, apparently once belonging to Sirius’ younger brother.

“No offense, Da, but... what am I g-g-gonn-n-n-na do with a knife?” Rhiannon asked, tilting it back and forth before she shrugged and slipped it into her pocket. Maybe she should get a sheath or pocket for it.

Sirius shrugged. “Dunno. It’s a knife. Get into trouble... er, provided that trouble does not involve Hogwarts desks or anybody else’s body unless they are actively attacking you,” he replied, the hasty afterthought added as Remus glared at him from his nest of blankets in the corner of the couch. “There should be a pouch in the wrapping somewhere if you look... unless I put it in a different package, which is also possible. Magically sealed leather, it’ll fit around your wrist and adjust itself to fit so you can get the thing to hand whenever you need it... I dunno, you never know when you’re gonna want a lockpick, and with the two Triwizard tasks still ahead... well, I figured it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that you’d need to undo rope or something quickly.”

Rhiannon decided to shelve the reply that she could use alohomora or the severing charm to pick locks and get out of ropes respectively – Sirius had a point, she still had two Triwizard tasks to beat and it wasn’t unlikely that she might drop her wand or be unable to cast spells verbally for some reason. Besides, Dudley couldn’t cast spells yet even if she’d had some ideas about how he might be able to do so in future. No point reminding him of that.

Christmas soon passed, a quieter day than usual with the bad weather and sick werewolves, but they all enjoyed themselves well enough. Cedric, having left the day after the Yule Ball, arrived at about five that evening in a towering storm of ill-temper that had not quite evaporated by dinnertime and to Rhiannon’s consternation Hagrid did not seem to be present.

Still, between his roles as Groundskeeper, Gamekeeper and Professor of Care of Magical Creatures, Hagrid was a busy man and perhaps one of his creatures was keeping him away for the evening.

But when the moon waxed full the next evening and Rhiannon, Dudley, Remus and the werefolk amongst the exchange students gathered to transform and roam the highlands, Hagrid was once again nowhere to be found and while the lights were on inside his cabin, there was only stale scent outside his door. Something was definitely wrong, but there wasn’t much Rhiannon could do about it in her four-legged shape and she had to tamp down her anxiety ‘til the next day.

The next day, the proverbial storm broke. For an empty castle, it certainly managed to fill up with whispers pretty quickly and Rhiannon was thoroughly irritated by the time she got down to the breakfast table. “F-f-f-f-f-fffff- f-f-fuck sake, what’s the matter with everyone?” Rhiannon complained as she filled up her plate.

Silently Cedric slid a newspaper across the table to her, and Rhiannon lost all interest in eating as she took in the title.

CHEATING, CROSSBREEDS AND CHRISTMAS CONTROVERSY – Rita Skeeter reports.

For a brief terrifying moment Rhiannon thought that her secret had been uncovered, but as she flicked through the article it made only brief mention of her new relationship with Luna as well as Hermione – that would be the cheating, she remarked drily to herself. Scathing, but certainly nothing to merit the whispers and sideways glances. She frowned, and carried on reading – a brief mention of Headmaster McGonagall having taken Professor Sprout to the ball but nothing actually bad to say about them aside from some generally insulting quibbling about the sexualities of those involved...

Rhiannon knocked her cutlery from the table with a clatter as she slammed the paper down on the table and shoved back her chair, fizzing with anger as she finally reached the section of the article that merited the insulting Crossbreeds designation. This author has uncovered one of Hogwarts’ many scandalous secrets – Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys, Grounds and Game and ‘Professor’ of Care of Magical Creatures, is half-giant, son of none other than the giantess Fridwulfa, whose name readers may recognise from the record of You-Know-Who’s inhuman followers from the past war.

“Inhuman – the bitch!” Rhiannon spat, leaning heavily on her cane as she stormed out of the room, muttering angrily to herself as she went. “Af-f-f-f- After what they put m- put Remus through last year!”

“Rhi, I know you want to murder Rita Skeeter and trust me the feeling’s mutual, but it’d be really bad publicity,” Nina interjected, having rushed from the room without Rhiannon’s noticing.

Rhiannon whirled on her friend, too angry for humour. “Bad publicity?” she growled. “It’s happening all over again, l-l-l-l-l-like it doesn’t even matter what my D-d-d-d-da went through last year? Ev-v-v-v-v-eryone rallied around a werewolf, suddenly a half-giant’s so much different? Wiz-z-z-z-zards have short memories and I’m tired.”

Nina backed up quickly, her hands raised in a placating gesture. “Hey, don’t bite my face off! He’s my favourite teacher!” she protested.
Rhiannon grumbled under her breath, not really paying Nina much attention as they made their way up to the Hufflepuff common room, where Rhiannon bundled up in her outdoor clothes and stowed a vial of Wolfsbane in her pocket. Thus equipped, they both turned around and set off up through the castle and then out across the snowy hillside to Hagrid’s cabin.

“Rhi, slow down,” Nina puffed, struggling to keep up despite much longer legs. “I’m not pretending it’s fair

or right, but Giants... they are different from werewolves-”

“What, evil?” Rhiannon retorted angrily.

“So help me, Black, stop putting words in my mouth!” Nina snapped, finally roused to anger. “Slow the fuck down and listen before you march in and upset Hagrid even more!”

That got through to Rhiannon and she forced herself to slow down to a pace Nina could match. “Nope. Slower. We are gonna sit down and revise a brief history of Giant-wizard relations before you go anywhere, got it?” Nina told her firmly, and finally Rhiannon slowed to a halt. Nina prodded her firmly in the middle of the chest and Rhiannon toppled backwards, landing with a remarkably bad-tempered huff in the nearby snowdrift, where she lay stiff on her back until Nina poked her and she sat up with a growl.

“Good. Sit up and shut up.” Nina admonished her friend. “Look, wizards and Giants don’t get on. Last... three? Three-ish, anyway, three-ish centuries, wizards rounded them all up and forced them to live on patches of land they allocated across the world. Not fair, not right, and not enough room for humans let alone Giants. They don’t do well all crowded, and a lot of them die over the next three hundred years, so the ones that are left have lost a lot of their skills, language and culture and they are, yes, before you say anything, justifiably upset with wizards by the time we get to the... the whenever the war started, it was. Then You-Know-Who takes over. And he had a lot of human followers especially at the start, all of the Greyback-type werewolves but not the assimilationists or were-pride types... But he wanted a real army, the break castles down kinda army. So he goes to the giants, and promises them freedom if they’ll fight for him. Those that didn’t fight for him were killed by those that did. Every single one of those giants that fought, their faces were everywhere, I mean they’re big like twenty, twenty-five feet tall, can’t miss ‘em, papers everywhere. Every single face, pictures. Every attack they were in, written down, where they were before the war, their families, every single little thing... you get the idea. Once that Skeeter woman got wind Hagrid’s mum was a giant, it would’ve been pretty simple to identify which one through all the bits of paper and pictures and shit, wizards love their paper. There’s... maybe fifteen left in Britain. You-Know-Who, he got so many killed and they got so many wizards killed... pretty much all everyone remembers when you get the word Giant is the war, and digging up his mum’s war record... that ties to people whose parents, siblings, kids, died in the attacks, recent stuff.”

“You had b-b-b-b-better not be about to tell me there’s wrongs on both sides,” Rhiannon growled.

Nina shook her head hastily. “Much as I’d be okay with being a werewolf, I’d prefer not to get bitten today... I’d need a Writ of Transmutation first so my mum didn’t murder you right after. No, more like injustices done by wizards, stacked on top of more injustices, piled up over centuries and culminating in a very recent and very bloody mess that hurt everybody involved except You-Know-Who and his merry band of fucks who actually needed to get dead, and now all the wizards can remember is their wizard friends that got killed and not how the giants joined the war to do the killing in the first place and how maybe You-Know-Who didn’t come outta thin air.”

Rhiannon spluttered and burst out laughing at the inappropriate hilarity of Nina’s style of narration. “I’m sorry, but... merry, b-b-b-band of... pfffhahahahaa- Nina, did you memorise one of Hermione’s talks and add swears in? B-b-b-ecause you sound just like her, except I’ve never known her t' say ‘fuck’ that much,” she choked out, before lapsing into silence as she processed the rest of Nina’s remarkably succinct rundown. It all came back to wizards enacting bullshit upon everybody else and somehow still having the nerve to be the wounded party at the end of it all, and she said as much to Nina.

“Maybe. Possibly. Might’ve been a textbook too, I honestly don’t remember half of what I just said,” Nina retorted frankly. “I just wanted to, explain, why everyone’s in such a mess over the news and I guess the answer was rattling around in there somewhere. ‘sides, aren’t you usually the one that eats textbooks?”

“That was one time!” Rhiannon protested, which set Nina to cackling helplessly.

“I thought that was a pi-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Rhiannon retorted, but the genuine anger had faded out of her tone and she lapsed into laughter alongside her friend before growing serious once again as the actual content of Nina’s spiel played over in her head.

“S-s-s-s-so basically it’s not even about Hagrid at all, it doesn’t matter that he’s two steps off being a war hero, it’s all about human wizard feelings about his mother?” Rhiannon exclaimed, throwing up her hands in exasperation when she finally managed to get her head around it.

Nina shrugged. “Yeah, that’s about the shape of it. Look, Hagrid’s basically been a model citizen – all the sympathy since they found he was wrongfully convicted of somethin’ You-Know-Who did as a teenager is a big mark in his favour. He’s been employed at the most proper wizard-y place outside of the Ministry ever since his expulsion from school, passed his magic exams first time despite years of being banned from carrying a wand, student marks in his class have picked up a solid... off the top of my head says fifty percent but I could be way off base, yeah like a big pickup in class signups, attendance and exam marks since Kettleburn retired, single-handedly started animal therapy programs at St Mungo’sand he volunteers for the Ministry Search and Rescue patrol when he somehow has spare time. But the second wizards can’t pretend he’s just a genetic blip or the product of a magic accident anymore, it doesn’t matter how good his record is. Suddenly he’s not a devoted teacher anymore, he’s at best a reckless idjit or at worst a terrifying danger to students, just for introducing students to animals that are a little more interesting than a Flobberworm... sure we all kinda hate the Skrewts, but they’re scientifically kinda int’resting, and everything aside from them has been great. It doesn’t matter what he does, it’s all gonna get twisted to fit their picture of the Ravening Evil Half-Giant Lurking In Your Child’s School, what would ‘mione call it – confirmation something?” Nina explained.

“Confirmation bias,” Rhiannon supplied helpfully. Then her scowl darkened. “Which is still bullshit, by the way. I mean- sure, I hear you, and I t-t-thi-thi-think I v-v-v-va-vaguely understand the pathway of bullshit logic the bullshit-mongerers have bullshitted their way along... but that doesn’t make it any less-”

“Bullshit?” Nina suggested innocently. “You’re one to talk about adding swear words as punctuation.

“Well I-I-I-I-I-I’m angry and I d-d-d-d-don’t know how else to ex-x-x-press that except with s-s-s-swearing,” Rhiannon grumbled, punching the snow with her gloved fists for emphasis.

“Completely fair, and I’m surprised more students don’t walk out of Binns’ class yelling in frustration. Maybe because he hides all the infuriating details in his droning,” Nina replied mildly. “Now, do you think you’ve worked that temper out enough to be able to go see Hagrid without losing it on him because it’s not his fault and you’re there to support him not vent?”

“I hate when you condescend,” Rhiannon growled, as Nina bounced to her feet and held out her hands to pull Rhiannon up along with her.

“Yeah, you do, but you hate it more when I’m right,” Nina retorted easily, pulling Rhiannon to her feet. Tempers thus thoroughly vented, they set off again down the snowy hill towards Hagrid’s cabin.Just as it had been the night before, the scent outside was stale – even moreso by now, Hagrid had evidently not left his house for days. Maybe he’d been sent an advance copy of the article – it did seem like the sort of spiteful thing Rita would do.

“Hey Hagrid, open up!” Nina yelled, hammering on the door. There was a rustling inside and a muffled growl of what sounded somewhat like rack off.

“Hagrid, we d-d-d-on’t think you’re a monster, open the d-d-damn door!” Rhiannon tried. The rustling from inside drew nearer and she yanked Nina back just as the door swung open and Hagrid peered out, looking very disheveled.

“I don’ mean to be blunt an’ all, but it don’ really matter what you two think. Story’s out now, go away an’ let me pack in peace,” Hagrid told them both firmly. Rhiannon started to reply but Hagrid retracted his head and slammed the door closed again.

Well, pleading wasn’t going to work, Rhiannon mused irritably. She turned the Wolfsbane bottle over in her pocket, and suddenly an idea formed. It was hours until sundown, but it had been Hagrid’s advice to begin with that she carry wolfsbane whenever she went out on full moon days, just in case she got caught out. “Nina, I have an idea, but are you alright sitting here with me if I’ve got no wolfsbane?” she whispered – Hagrid had always had sharp ears, but giants had hearing as good as any werewolf – he’d probably been consciously downplaying just how sharp his had been for years and she didn’t want him to overhear before she had a chance to act.

“I mean, it’s hours ‘til moonrise,” Nina replied with a shrug.

“I need a formal yes or no, in case something actually does happen and they search my memory,” Rhiannon answered tersely.

“Then yes, I don’t care – because it’s hours before you turn anyway, and last time you actually did turn without Wolfsbane near me you were a giant puppy who just wanted to sleep in the sun,” Nina retorted. “You won’t magically infect me by breathing the same air.”

“Technically I could be guilty of endangerment for being in your presence knowing I’m going to turn later and don’t have wolfsbane on me,” Rhiannon replied with a shrug – she’d read most of the bullshit legislation in her free time. “And it is technically possible to transmit it that way, saliva droplet transmission, it’s just not likely.”

“So we just... avoid you whenever you’re sick?” Nina asked curiously.

Rhiannon shrugged. “I generally go to Madam Pomfrey anyway. I can’t catch most human diseases so if I seem to have a cold it could be something really weird... but yeah, I’m supposed to avoid human contact while I’m sick for just that reason. Anyway,” she carried on, retrieving the potion from her pocket. She considered it, grimacing at the memory of the taste, and unstoppered the bottle, then cocked her arm back and hucked it into the treeline. There was a distant tch-ink kind of sound, she guessed it had probably smashed against a tree.

“HAGRID!” Rhiannon bellowed, stomping up to the door. “I know you heard me chuck the Wolfs-s-s-s-s-b-b-bane and so help me, I will-l-l- I w- I w- I will s-s-ssit her on this doorstep until I turn and th-th-th-th-then I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your damn house down!”

Nina stared at Rhiannon and then burst out laughing, spluttering and wheezing as she tried to restrain the sound. “Your idea of a scary werewolf is... the Three Little Pigs?” she gasped, tears of mirth rolling down her cheeks.

“W-w-well it-t-t-t- it- it seemed like a good idea at the time, HAGRID, OPEN UP!” Rhiannon replied diffidently before turning her attention back to the door.

This time it was Nina’s turn to pull Rhiannon back as movement sounded from inside and Hagrid peered out again. It didn’t look as if he was planning on slamming the door this time, and he opened it a little wider so they could talk openly. “Of all the stubborn, irresponsible werewolves I’ve met – fine, it’s bloody cold out so come in already,” Hagrid admonished them, finishing with a sigh. He stepped out of the way of the door and gestured for them to come inside.

Nina and Rhiannon filed inside and sat down in two of the three armchairs remaining in front of the hearth. Since Hagrid had received his wand license he had been reconfiguring the internal dimensions of his hut to make more space, it had been about the size of a regular small house in here last time Rhiannon had visited, but it looked as if Hagrid had undone all his dimensional enchantments to leave the space bare for whoever might use it next.

“So, if I can’t get rid o’ yeh, what d’you want?” Hagrid asked them both, his tone brisk and heavy with ill-temper.

“For you to come back and teach, obviously,” Nina replied promptly. “Obviously classes are still out, but – who’d be able to take over the curriculum at this time of year?”

Hagrid grunted and settled himself down in the third armchair, scowling at the fire as he did so. “Everyone hates th’ Skrewts anyway,” he replied gloomily. “Minerva’s bin havin’ enough trouble with the old traditional types complainin’ about ‘er changes, keepin’ me on would be a real hit to ‘er reputation – it could get her fired, an’ damage any future options for a progressive Headmaster to get things done.”

“We all hate the Skrewts,” Rhiannon agreed with feeling. “But... uh, I dunno – we could feed them to the Acromantula, that’d b-b-be scientifically int’resting, and the Ac-c-c-c-crom-mantula would probably love the challenge. Also it’d be kinda cath-th-th-th-artic to see those scorchy fuckers die.”

Hagrid snorted, sounding genuinely amused despite his terrible mood. “Not a stupid idea, but I’ve got to keep a couple – the champion folks want ‘em,” he replied. “Uh – shouldn’a said that. Forget that.”

Rhiannon shuddered. “I will – I’ll never be able to forget that, until this whole thing is over. But – in all s-s-s-seriousness, this happened to Remus last year and we dealt w-w-with it. Why do you have to leave? Maybe Dudley and I should come out, tell everyone just how much you’ve helped.”

Hagrid shook his head hurriedly. “No! No, no, no, bad idea – then it turns into Vicious Giant Trafficks Werewolves Into School, they’d imply I’d done things to you – no, that would just involve you in this mess of wilfully narrow-minded people rather than improving the mess at all... and speaking of werewolves, Rhiannon Black, what the hell were you thinking throwing out your Wolfsbane? That stuff doesn’t grow on trees!”

Rhiannon winced – she’d been allowed to forget how expensive the potion was as she’d never had a problem paying for it. “I guess I was-s-s-s just t-t-tryin’ to a- I was b-b-bettin’ that you wouldn’ just leave a w-werewolf out there on a full moon day knowin’ they had no potion,” she replied with a shrug.

Hagrid grumbled under his breath. “Well, you were right... but it was still reckless, an’ wasteful.”

Rhiannon sighed. “I won’t, I won’t... but you’re a good t-t-teacher, Hagrid, it’d be a waste of that too if you lef-f-f-ft. Not to mention we’d miss you.”

“Please, Hagrid, at least talk t’ Headmaster McGonagall about options before you just leave,” Nina begged him.

Hagrid shook his head firmly. “I’m not puttin’ Minerva in that position. Better t’ jus’ leave, rather’n put her job at risk too.”

Rhiannon groaned. “Hagrid – she’s at risk jus’ f’r havin’ employed you, nobody’s gonna believe she didn’ know, you’re like ten feet tall. If you st-st-st-ss-s-s-ssss-stick around, at least there’s people t’ weather the shitstorm along with you and then it’s easier on ev’ryone, including you,” she wheedled.

Hagrid screwed up his face in a wry frown, but as the silence stretched longer and longer it seemed he had no way of refuting that. “Well... I s’pose I mighta catastrophised just a bit, yeh did get a whole lot o’ support when the same thing happened t’ Remus...” he pondered out loud. “It’s jus’, public sent’ment about Giants, ‘s even worse’n about werewolves and I panicked, yeh know? That Skeeter woman, she sent me the article days b’fore she even published it, warned me to get out before parents showed up with pitchforks.”

Nina snorted derisively. “And that’s Rita Skeeter’s perspective, which should tell you it’s built on a foundation o’ complete shit and best ignored,” she retorted. “You’re a great teacher, I dunno if I’d want to keep going with the subject under anyone else.”

Hagrid’s shoulders slumped. “I s’pose... fine. I’ll stick around and talk t’ Minerva. But if she doesn’ want the trouble, I’m not fightin’ it,” he replied wearily.

“This-s-s- this ‘s the second outing of a teacher in less ‘n six months,” Rhiannon began carefully. “If – I get ‘f you don’t wanna make a big deal or anythin’, but... we’d like to do somethin’ about it, run a support piece maybe – but only if you agree. It just... seems like there’s a big problem with n-n-n-nonhumans not havin’ a right t’ privacy, and we want to do something b’cause this isn’t fair.”

Hagrid held up his hands, already shaking his head. “Okay, slow down, one thing at a time,” he responded quickly. “I appreciate the support, but – rein the horse in a bit, okay?”

“Sorry,” Rhiannon mumbled awkwardly. “I just – there are people that support you, lots of ‘em, and I wanted to... make sure you heard what they’ve got t’ say as well as the nasty stuff.”

Hagrid got up from his chair and filled up a kettle with water, then set it to boiling on the stovetop while he rummaged in a half-packed crate for supplies. Neither Rhiannon or Nina had asked for tea, but Rhiannon knew Hagrid was probably trying to keep busy so as to hide his embarrassment over their show of support.

Once the tea was ready – ginger by the smell of it, which Rhiannon appreciated for the calming effect it had on her nausea, a usual side effect of her full moon pain – Hagrid passed out the cups and sat back down in his armchair with a sigh. “I appreciate th’ support, an’ I’ll think about it – really. I’ve just bin lyin’ about it so long it’s a big adjustment to think of tellin’ the whole world, you know?” he said, by way of a reply to Rhiannon’s earlier suggestion.

“You wouldn’t have t’ say anything,” Nina replied quickly. “The general idea is to show that there’s people on your side, who don’t care that there’s a half-giant teacher at Hogwarts and are upset about how you’re bein’ treated. It’s sad, but people’re more likely to listen to a human about it than you.”

Hagrid grunted. “Not untrue. Jus’ not sure I’m comfortable with bein’ the face o’ some Big Thing, you know? Like I’m not ready for leadin’ some big campaign for nonhuman rights with this, I support you all with that and I’d get behind yeh with yer own campaigns I’m just... not really up for bein’ right at the front o’ one, that’s not me.”

Rhiannon made a face – of course she understood. “I get it – really I do, y’ know I do. And we don’ have to make a b-b-b-big thing about it, we jus’... don’t want t’ take this lyin’ down, you’ve liv-v-v-v- lived here, ever since you got expelled... it’s not right Rita could take that away all ‘t once, and if you want t’ fight that, we’re with you.”

Hagrid’s dark eyes looked distinctly misty and he looked away, wiping his eyes as he took a deep draught of his tea. “I ‘preciate it,” he mumbled, and paused, audibly casting around for something else to focus on. “You two had better finish your tea an’ head back up t’ the castle though,” he said finally. “Can’t stay down ‘ere with me all day, not now yeh chucked yer potion into the trees, I’d feel better if yeh’d pick one up sooner rather’n later.”

Rhiannon frowned for a moment – usually Hagrid kept spare Wolfsbane under the sink around full moons, but she supposed he must have sent it back to the castle when he decided to resign as it was technically the property of the school. “Hagrid, if-f-f-f – if anyone could put a leash on a werewolf, it’d be you,” she replied with a self-deprecating snort. “It’s bloody cold out, c-c-c-can-can’t imagine I’d do anythin’ more’n curl up in front o’ your fire anyway.”

“You could come with us and talk to Minerva about maybe not resigning,” Nina suggested, ever hopeful, and Hagrid threw up his hands in defeat.

“Fine! Never met a stubborner bunch o’ teenagers... I suppose I’d better plan some lessons for the New Year now, if I’m plannin’ on stayin’,” he grumbled mock-resentfully.

Nina snorted. “How best to execute a blast-ended skrewt?” she suggested drily.

“If they’re in the Tournament, that could c-c-c-c-ount ‘s unfair extra practice,” Rhiannon chimed in, grinning.

“I told yeh to forget about that!” Hagrid protested, flushing red at the mention of his least popular creatures. “I could do a thing on dragons if yeh’d be alrigh’ with the reminder, though – lotta people interested in ‘em after that first task.”

Rhiannon was at first unenthused with the idea – the first task had been terrifying and downright traumatic, and she’d rather not think about it ever again. But realistically, that wasn’t healthy or helpful, and it made sense to do a lesson focusing on dragons at a time when more people were thinking about them – make use of something already in their sphere of attention and all that. “I mean, I d-d-don’ love it, jus’... don’ ask me t’ talk about it in class or anythin’. And you should play up jus’ how fuckin’ incredible it was that Viktor survived that blast at all, ‘cos I’ve heard some idiots suggestin’ he must not have done the charm right or somethin’.”

Hagrid spluttered, the embarrassed flush draining from his face as his expression turned horrified instead. “They wha’ now?” he inquired disbelievingly. “He survived the hottest flame of any dragon breed at point blank range, and they’re focusin’ on the fact that he got a bit injured? Boy shoulda’ bin melted, if he hadn’t cast that damn charm in time – and then he killed the thing wandlessly! Not that I’m happy a creature died, it’s awful that it w’s ever in that position, but objectively tha’ fight should be taught as the exemplary standard for Defence, really an incredible feat o’ magical power.”

Nina nodded sympathetically – she’d heard the spiel before and even given similar ones herself. “You’re right, ‘course. But, exhibit A, this is why you’re a great teacher,” she replied, her ever-sunny smile turning a little mischievous as Hagrid groaned, outmaneuvered. “No, really – you pay attention t’ what people are thinkin’ about and if they have the wrong idea you’re quick t’ correct them, especially if it’s hurtin’ someone. Please stick around.”\

“There’s no need t’ butter me up, I already agreed t’ talk to Minerva,” Hagrid muttered under his breath, but his face flushed red under his beard and Rhiannon suspected he was probably touched by Nina’s earnest affection.

They all finished their tea in short order and then set off back up the hill to the castle with Fang bouncing in their wake, the usually dozy dog uncharacteristically sprightly in the brisk, snow-laden air. Rhiannon and Nina both wanted to accompany Hagrid to his meeting with the Headmaster to back him up, but Hagrid was insistent that he was a grown adult who could handle his own problems and didn’t Rhiannon need to go and get another vial of Wolfsbane anyway?

There was no way Rhiannon could go all the way down to the Hufflepuff dorms and common room to retrieve her potion and then get all the way back to the Headmaster’s office, so she had to give up on that one and went to relax in the common room instead. Hermione and Luna showed up later on, and Rhiannon was perfectly content to do virtually nothing for the rest of the day so long as they could spend that time together, but eventually night fell and it was time to make their way out of the castle to transform. Dudley was happier than ever, far more energetic and alert now that he had the use of a wheelchair and he hovered along beside Ginny as they led the way outside, followed by Rhiannon, Luna and Hermione with Nina bringing up the rear.

The six of them parted from the little column of werefolk from the visiting schools and met McGonagall in a side courtyard, and Rhiannon and Dudley split off from their friends so they could transform in private. When they were returned, Rhiannon was surprised to see that Hagrid had joined Minerva and her tail began to wag delightedly as she trotted up to him.

Hagrid laughed and ruffled the fur of her hackles gently as she shoved her nose into his knee. “Oh, you got me – I couldn’t leave, where else could I hang out with werewolves every month?” he joked in a self-deprecating sort of way.

“More accurately, he attempted to offer his resignation and I firmly denied it,” Minerva chimed in with a wry smile. “Now, let’s get a move on, we’re wasting moonlight,” she added, and raised her wand. With a high-pitched shriek of magic that had the werewolves and Hagrid covering their ears in pain she transformed into a sleek swirl-patterned silver tabby cat and with her black-tipped tail held high she trotted across the courtyard and then turned back to look at them as if to say well come on then.

“I should really learn that,” Hagrid grumbled as they all followed Minerva at a brisk pace. “I think I’d make a good bear, meself.”

Rhiannon snorted and pressed her side into Luna’s leg, a low rumble rising in her chest at the tickly sensation of Hermione’s fingers gently scratching the scar tissue on the back of her head. “It’s not a bad idea,” Luna commented thoughtfully, exchanging a glance with Hermione. “I suppose I’d be a snow leopard like my Patronus. It’d be nice to be able to keep up with you more easily, I can tell you have to hold back when we play tag.”

Hermione hummed quietly, it sounded as if she liked the idea too. Having never cast a full Patronus herself, she had no idea what animal she might turn into if she became an Animagus and she, Luna, Ginny and Nina chatted happily about the idea as they walked. The future was a long way from certain, Rhiannon could not entirely push aside her anxieties about the oncoming Tournament, but as always the full moon was a welcome break from regular life stress and by the time the sun rose in the morning Rhiannon was exhausted in the best way possible – worn out, but ready to chase down Hagrid’s persecutors as soon as she’d had a proper nap. Rita Skeeter would come to regret crossing a werewolf.