Professor McGonagall led Morris straight out of the Castle, heading northeast.
They passed through a row of greenhouse-like structures, skirted a massive willow, and finally stopped in front of a small, lopsided cabin.
It was a single-story wooden hut, clearly built by hand. What drew the eye most, however, was the oversized door, as if a giant lived inside.
Professor McGonagall raised her hand and knocked.
"Coming!" a rough voice called from within.
Morris immediately knew whose home it was. The door swung open, and sure enough, Rubeus Hagrid's towering frame filled the doorway.
"You're here, Professor McGonagall," he said with a nod. "Cup of tea before we start?"
She waved the offer away. "No time, Hagrid. Mr. Black is in your care—I have a class to teach."
With a brief nod to Morris, she strode off.
Only Morris and Hagrid remained outside the hut.
"Well, hello there," Hagrid said, bending down and offering a friendly hand. "Reckon you know who I am—just call me Hagrid."
"Morris Black," he said, shaking the huge hand.
Hagrid's palm swallowed Morris's forearm entirely. He swallowed hard—one careless squeeze, and his arm would be crushed.
"So, Professor McGonagall's told you why you're here," Hagrid said gently, stepping aside. "Let's talk inside."
The interior was a single room, furnished for someone twice normal size: a bed, a table, chairs, and a fireplace. Bundles of dried herbs, hams, and oddly shaped plants hung from the ceiling.
"Make yourself at home," Hagrid said.
Morris tried one of the oversized chairs, then settled on the edge of the bed.
"So, where are these Thestrals?" he asked.
"The Forbidden Forest," Hagrid said, nodding toward the trees outside. "Normally off-limits to students, but we're a special case. We'll head there soon. Biscuit?"
"Thanks."
"Help yourself—I baked 'em!"
Morris took the hefty, coarse biscuit and bit down—then instantly regretted it. It was less a biscuit than a sun-dried roof tile. He'd need Dragon fangs to make a dent.
He set it on the table, trying to appear calm. "When do we leave?"
"Now." Hagrid nudged the huge hound snoring beside him. "Up you get, Fang—work to do."
Fang gave a groggy whine and stood. Only then did Morris realize the dog was almost his own height; beside Hagrid, it looked small. It sniffed Morris, huffed warm breath over him, and gave his hand a friendly lick.
"See? He likes you!" Hagrid beamed, patting the shaggy head. "Fang's a coward, but company's company."
Morris eyed the slobber on his hand, drew his wand, and muttered a Cleaning Charm—one he'd picked up from a stray book in Diagon Alley, not on any syllabus.
"Right, off we go," Hagrid said, heading for the door. "Thestral clearing's a fair walk. And mind you stay where I can see you."
Man, dog, and boy set off toward the dark woods.
The Forbidden Forest. Morris remembered Principal Dumbledore warning students about it at the start-of-term feast. He had always wondered what lived inside.
"Thestrals stay deep in the Forest," Hagrid explained, pushing aside branches, "but they come nearer when Hogwarts needs them or when a foal's due. They're clan-minded—always pick the safest spot for their young."
"You're saying the Forest isn't safe?" Morris asked.
"Not trying to scare you, but there're things in here that aren't too friendly—Acromantula, for one. Aragog and his brood mostly keep to the deep glades, mind."
"Acromantula? Aragog?"
"Er—never you mind. Just don't wander in alone."
Hagrid changed the subject, though not too smoothly.
"Fair enough." Morris shrugged. Hagrid had brought it up. Acromantula—a name that fired the imagination. He wasn't squeamish about hairy arthropods; in fact, he quite liked them. A few in the manor grounds would be perfect. He filed the name away for later research.
"Nearly there," Hagrid whispered, motioning for quiet. "Thestral glade's just past those bushes."
They pushed through the last thicket and stepped into a wide clearing ringed by ancient trees. The canopy was so dense that sunlight barely filtered through, and the hush felt almost holy.
Several gaunt, black creatures stood motionless, identical to the one that had carried Morris the night before. Thestrals.
Oddly, Morris felt each of them looking at him.
"They're shy," Hagrid said proudly. "Took me three days to earn their trust the first time—tricky business."
"Er… they don't look shy to me." Morris could have sworn he saw something eager in their pale eyes, as though they'd spotted a treasure.
The lead Thestral threw back its head and let out a long, ringing neigh that echoed through the trees. Then something astonishing happened:
From every shadow, more Thestrals stepped into view. They converged from all sides until Morris and Hagrid were ringed by dozens of the strange creatures.
"Look—they're welcoming us!" Hagrid spread his arms toward the nearest beast. "Come here, good lad."
The Thestral took a single step forward, then pressed its head against Morris's chest in open affection, ignoring Hagrid's outstretched hands. Hagrid froze.
Morris froze too, his heart pounding. These creatures, feared by most students, were showing him warmth instead. The moment was surreal—hauntingly beautiful, yet tinged with unease.
"See?" Hagrid whispered, a hint of awe in his voice. "They know you're… different."
Morris ran a hand along the sleek, cold hide of the nearest Thestral, feeling a shiver run down his spine. There was intelligence here, curiosity, a bond he hadn't expected. He'd read about magical creatures in books, but never had he imagined this.
The forest seemed to lean closer, as if watching, waiting. Morris glanced at Hagrid. "We really are alone here, aren't we?"
"Mostly," Hagrid admitted. "But don't worry. Thestrals are peaceful… if you respect 'em."
The creatures shifted around him, their dark eyes reflecting the dim light that filtered through the canopy. Each movement was precise, deliberate, and strangely graceful for beings with such skeletal forms.
Morris felt a thrill of excitement mixed with unease. Magic this old, so raw and untamed, had a presence he could feel in his bones. He swallowed hard. This was no ordinary lesson.
Hagrid crouched beside him, lowering his massive frame closer to the creatures. "They can sense a lot, you know. Emotions, intentions… even pasts."
Morris blinked. Pasts? Could these creatures really see that? He glanced around the circle of Thestrals. Their eyes held a depth that made him shiver.
"Don't be afraid," Hagrid said softly. "They've accepted you. That's rare. Most students… never see 'em up close."
Morris exhaled slowly, letting his tension melt slightly. The creatures were strange, even unsettling, but there was a bond here—a recognition that transcended fear.
The Thestrals shifted again, stepping closer, brushing against his arms and legs, each movement deliberate. Morris realized that these creatures, feared and misunderstood by almost everyone at Hogwarts, had chosen to trust him.
He felt a surge of pride, tempered by caution. Magic, after all, could be dangerous—but this… this felt different. This was a connection.
Hagrid clapped his hands lightly. "Right, that's enough introductions for now. Let's get you learning. They'll follow if you need 'em, but remember—the Forest is alive. Pay attention, always."
Morris nodded, feeling both excitement and a strange weight of responsibility. Today, he had stepped into a part of Hogwarts few students ever saw, and the creatures around him—silent, skeletal, yet watchful—were now his allies.
He had a lot to learn.
But for the first time since arriving, he didn't feel afraid.
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