Gray mountains showed faint light sinking behind mist. Snowflakes finally stopped, but they'd buried Hogwarts' gates.
"Damn it, I hate Christmas!"
Filch cursed while shoveling snow—not just because of snow, but because of energetic brats inside.
"Those stupid... Ah!"
His foot slipped. He sank into a snowdrift.
"Oh, careful! Argus!"
Hagrid's massive hand grabbed Filch's neck, lifting him like a chicken.
"You alright, Argus..."
Hagrid asked with concern.
While brushing snow off Filch, his beetle-black eyes showed honest confusion.
He'd forgotten his own strength.
Dangling by his neck, Filch's face turned red. He slapped Hagrid's arm.
"Let... go... idiot!"
"Oh! Sorry!"
Hearing Filch's strangled curses, Hagrid finally reacted and released his grip.
Like a stone, Filch dropped back into the snowdrift. Muffled thud.
He climbed out gasping. Curses poured out.
"Rubeus Hagrid!"
"You idiot..."
"I'll kill you..."
"Damn bastard..."
Hagrid stood helplessly, face full of embarrassment.
His thick beard hid his expression completely. Filch didn't notice.
The snow, Mrs. Norris's petrification, student troubles—all aimed at Hagrid now.
"Hey, I finally found you!"
"Mr. Hagrid, please come with me..."
Gilderoy Lockhart appeared in the entrance hall, beaming.
He hurried toward Hagrid like seeing an old friend.
This polished professor usually avoided Hagrid.
"Very sorry to interrupt, but I need a small favor..."
Lockhart's tone carried apology but more unquestionable confidence.
To him, Hagrid entering his office was an honor.
Like meeting a savior, Hagrid's eyes brightened. He fled toward Lockhart.
"Oh, of course!"
"Professor Lockhart, next time just send an owl..."
Hagrid knew the disdain in the man's heart.
But Filch's emotional state was worrying. The half-giant's wasn't much better.
He just wanted to escape.
"Sorry, Argus!"
"I'll come back soon!" Deep rumble carried relief.
Watching them leave, furious Filch slammed his shovel down...
Defense office.
Silent atmosphere. Awkward.
Hagrid sat on two chairs pushed together, hands on knees. Posture cramped. Gaze confused.
(???)
"Oh... yes... right... I should say... no no..."
"I should do it this way... oh no..."
Lockhart held a pink letter, pacing before the fireplace. Muttered continuously but couldn't hand it over.
"Maybe... forget it..."
Seeing him give up, self-portraits chimed in.
"No! This is your chance!"
"Gilderoy! Don't give up!"
"Just do what you planned!"
"For our love!!!"
"For Polly!!!"
"Right... for Polly..."
His smooth hair now looked like a nest. Lockhart muttered, lowering his hands.
His confident smile now overflowed with anxiety, fear, and faint anticipation.
Since learning Tiger was Polly's son, he'd been desperate for news.
But Tiger's fierce temperament was intimidating.
Not to mention fists faster than brain.
Dumbledore had even sent a "Shelby Chart."
Ears: Someone's threatening you. Brain: Something's nearby. Eyes: Where? Fists: Handled~
Lockhart: "..."
But as time passed, longing only grew. Today, he finally gathered courage to invite Tiger.
Perhaps in Christmas atmosphere, the volatile boy's mood would improve?
He'd prepared holiday sweets.
"Maybe... right..."
Despite anxiety, he encouraged himself.
"Um..."
"Professor Lockhart..."
"Professor Lockhart?"
"Professor Lockhart!"
Hagrid's deep voice boomed, startling Lockhart. Time had reached evening feast.
"Oh! Mr. Hagrid..."
"Sorry, I have things to consider... you know..."
"As a professor..."
Hagrid didn't listen. Just shook his head, interrupting:
"Professor Lockhart, it's Christmas. I have lots to do. If there's nothing else, I'll lea—"
"No no no!!!"
Lockhart rushed forward, blocking Hagrid. Nervous eyes held pleading. Face paled.
"I have something more important!"
"Please, Hagrid!"
"If I've wasted your time, I can pay you—lots!"
Hagrid froze.
Wizarding society wasn't kind to half-giants. "Payment" was rare.
Seeing Lockhart's serious expression, he sat back down. Chair groaned.
"No payment needed, Professor. Just a small favor."
"So, what do you need?"
Lockhart took a deep breath, putting the letter back. Tone turned solemn.
"Thank you, Hagrid."
"I hope for the next two hours, you can protect me in my office."
"Protect you?!" Hagrid's eyes widened. "Are you in trouble?"
"Should I notify Dumbledore?"
Remembering recent chaos, his heart tightened.
"Ahem... don't panic, not yet..." Lockhart cleared his throat awkwardly.
"It's like this..."
"After lunch, I sent Mr. Shelby a letter inviting him to spend the holiday."
"Right here!"
"I've prepared a feast—ingredients money can't buy, from my fans..."
Lockhart boasted, but noticing Hagrid's stiffening expression, hurried to explain:
"Of course, if possible, I'd also like to discuss his gentle, kind, lovely mother..."
Crash.
Hagrid shot up. Confident expression turned guilty.
"Shelby..." He covered his face. "Tiger?"
When Lockhart nodded in confusion, Hagrid's heart died.
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