Matou Shinji and the Master of Death (HP/FSN CYOA)

[Magus]

It could go horribly wrong however we do it, and Clemency certainly is more costly to us in the short-term. Maybe some good comes in the end from Clemency.

I don't mind if people pick Justice though, and that seems to be the "safer" option. The only option I'm adamantly against is Punishment, which obviously means the Dementor's kiss.

Actually, now that I see that Clemency is exile, we should probably choose [x] Justice, lest Hagrid repeat his crimes with dangerous creatures elsewhere. That would only compound whatever reputation penalties we get from choosing clemency. Justice avoids this, while preventing Harry from getting too used to destroying people with the Dementor's Kiss (which is certainly an excessive punishment in this case, given that Hagrid did not intend to hurt anyone).

So again, to be clear:

[x] Justice

[Ratman]

Yeah, the problem is we all know Hagrid is actually just retarded, and not nearly a bad person enough to actually deserve death. If you do that just to avoid trouble, you're basically actually being a bad guy, and taking this into an overly edgy direction.

We haven't done much in direction of preventing Harry from going nuclear aside of talking to him and making him not feel alone, either. While that's helpful, it's really just the first step and can backfire on its own.

[Malgos]

We haven't done much in direction of preventing Harry from going nuclear aside of talking to him and making him not feel alone, either.

Nuclear you say?

Sort of/minor spoiler (Was in a trailer) for Metal Gear Solid 5

Shinji, I'm already a demon. - Punished "Venom" Harry.

In regards to the discussion... I'm for forgiving. He may hate the Stone Cutters, but the primary reason they killed those spiders is because they were a menace. So asking for forgiveness, since he seemed to be ignorant of their feeding habits seems fitting. Apparently he's not the brightest bulb and he didn't do it out of malice. If he despises everyone so be it, although it would be great if they could show him the error of his ways so he could try to more thoughtful of his actions rather than straight up condemning him. Also it's the just choice, because letting justice be served means there's bias involved anyways.

Pretty big spoiler for Metal Gear Solid 5, as I already referenced it as a joke might as well use it as an analogy.

Also it would be like letting Huey off the hook.

[Caster]

If Clemency happens I'm in favor of trying to get him to talk to the centaurs somehow.

[mangafreak7793]

If Clemency happens I'm in favor of trying to get him to talk to the centaurs somehow.

this

[skulkidcachi90]

If shinji end losing Grimmauld Place for this, I am gonna laugh so hard.
The worst thing than shinji can do is something than make him have to give a favor to lucius.

[mr_Trickster]

What is the current tally, anyway?

[alfheimwanderer]

It looks like

[8] Justice
[8] Clemency
[1] Punishment

[EnigmaticFellow]

[X] Justice

[Caster]

So I'll vote conditional clemency. Namely that some sort of punishment outside of imprisonment is good, but exile alone is getting off lightly. The point is to show Hagrid the harm he caused so maybe he can try to do better. If we just let him run off he won't grow at all. I also think it sets a bad precedent. He did wrong, but it wasn't from his intent, he just was apparently very clueless.

[gesalt]

I change my vote from punishment to justice

[alfheimwanderer]

[x] Justice will always prevail AKA Harry stays out of this.

---

Chapter 42. Fragments of Dreams

“Dad, dad! What is that?” a young boy whispered excitedly to his father as they appeared at Platform 9¾ for the first time, his eyes widening in wonder as he saw the gleaming red locomotive that would take him to Hogwarts – and more people than he’d thought existed in the entire world. “I’ve never seen anything like it!”

“It’s a train, Rubeus. The Hogwarts Express, ter be precise,” his father replied from his perch on the boy’s shoulder – for the boy was of unusual size. Always had been, really. By the time he was six, Rubeus had already outgrown his father Amissio – who’d never been large even by wizard standards – and had amused them both carrying the older man around the house…or by setting him on top of dressers or the icebox when he was in a particularly foul mood. Still, for all his strength and carelessness, he had a good heart. “Been takin’ students to Hogwarts for more than a hundred years!”

“A hundred years…” eleven-year old Rubeus Hagrid breathed, though his expression soured as he noticed many of the others on the platform turning to look at him, some of the other children – so small, they – with curiosity, and their parents with barely-veiled disgust, as they pulled their children away, as if he was some wild, dangerous beast who would attack a person who dared to look at him the wrong way.

And perhaps he was a bit wild, having grown up in the Forest of Dean, where aside from his father – and a mother he barely remembered, since she’d left them when he was three – he’d had only the creatures of the forest for company. Going to Diagon Alley to buy his wand and school supplies had been his first hint that there was a world beyond the woods of oak and beech and chestnut he’d known all his life – and his first exposure to what others thought of…thought of people like him.

Freaks.

Their stares and whispers had made him want to sink into the earth and disappear forever, with joy and wonder he’d felt at seeing Diagon Alley for the first time evaporating away as they judged him and found him wanting.

“Dad,” he’d croaked, wanting to hide behind the older man – but knowing he physically couldn’t, given that his father was far smaller than he. “Why are they looking at us like that?” But then he’d noticed that none of them were looking at the older man – but at him. “No, no us. At…me?”

“Because they’re fools who don’t know how to appreciate what they have, son,” his father had replied, smiling softly at the boy. “Or anything different from the world they know.”

“But…”

“Never be ashamed, Rubeus,” the man had said firmly. “Not of what you are, or who you are. Aye, there’s some who’ll hold it against you, but they’re not worth botherin’ with. Now, let’s get you yer wand.”

Young Rubeus’ worry had faded as he walked into Ollivanders and found a length of oak being thrust into his hands.

“Give it a swish, lad,” a voice had said – one belonging to an eccentric man with pale silver eyes. “This one should be a good fit for you.”

And indeed it had been, with red sparks shooting into the air, delighting the young boy as the wand - a study but flexible instrument of English oak, like the trees he’d felt so at home among, chose him for a partner.

“Mm, interesting. What’s your name, boy?”

“Rubeus, sir. Rubeus Hagrid.”

“Rubeus…you don’t say,” the man had echoed softly. “A curious name.”

After all, Rubeus – Latin for “Red” – was one of the sixteen figures of geomancy: an overturned glass, meaning good in all that is evil, and evil in all that is good. A name for one who broke with convention, who would find himself driven by passion, violence, and vice.

“It’s just a name, Garrick,” Amissio had replied tersely. “Don’t read into it more than there is to see.”

“Beech and Unicorn hair, seven inches,” the wandmaker had said as his eyes took note of the other man. “One of my father’s creations, as I recall. One of the smallest.”

“Oh, you know it’s not the size of the wand that matters, Garrick,” Rubeus’ father had quipped. “It’s how you use it.”

Garrick Ollivander had looked between the small wizard who had once been his classmate at Hogwarts and his nearly eight foot son. Even if he had not been a Ravenclaw during his school years, it would have been a simple thing to deduce the boy’s parentage. And for Amissio Hagrid – a small man – to have charmed a giantess, well…

“…I suppose you of all people would probably be an authority on the matter,” the wandmaker had conceded dryly.

And if the wandmaker was surprised by the coupling, it was only in the particulars, as beech wands only performed well for those who not only rich in understanding and experience, but open minded and tolerant of unusual ideas.

“You’ve a good wand, Rubeus Hagrid,” Garrick Ollivander had said, turning his attention back to the boy. “English Oak and Dragon Heartstring, 16 inches. A wand which needs a strong and courageous partner, with an affinity for the magic of beasts and plants. Perhaps you will become the next Newt Scamander, boy.”

That had been a week ago, and young Rubeus had smiled then, at the thought someone besides his father believed he would make something of himself.

But now, as he stood at Platform 9¾, the stares were once more getting to him.

“Put me down, son,” Amissio bid, with Rubeus reaching up and lifting the man by the back of his coat before setting him gently on the ground, where he looked up at his son, meeting the young half-giant’s eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Dad…I’m scared. What if I’m not good enough?” He’d grown up in a forest, after all, without a chance to practice magic of any sort or really make friends with anyone. “Yeh said not ta be ashamed, but…”

“Everyone starts from the beginning at Hogwarts, Rubeus, whether you’re a Magbob or from one of the old families. Just be yerself, son. I know it’s hard. Yeh’ve been singled out, an’ that’s always hard. But yeh’ll have a great time at Hogwarts,” the man said to his son. “I did, after all, and I was always the runt. Not like you.”

“Only one who ever thought I was small was mum,” Rubeus rumbled, shaking his head. “Back when mum was with us.”

“…yeah,” Amissio replied after a moment, turning away so his son wouldn’t see the pain blossoming on his face – and in his chest – at the mention of the woman he’d loved – the giantess who’d left him behind forever. “Whatever you do, Rubeus, you’re my son, and I’m proud of you. Besides, I know you’ll be a thumpin’ good wizard, once you’ve been trained up.”

“With you as my dad, what could I be?” the boy asked as he looked down at his father – the man who had raised him, who had given up so much for him, who had been so very patient with him. Rubeus knew he hadn’t been the easiest person to take care of, but his father had never complained at all.

“Just remember what Ollivander said,” Amissio said as he looked over towards the Hogwarts Express. “And have courage.”

“I will…dad.”

“Give me a hug, Rubeus, and then off to the train with yeh.”

Like so many other children before their first day of school, Rubeus Hagrid hugged his father tearfully goodbye on Platform 9¾, before heading off, his head held high as he boarded the Hogwarts Express.

Before the half-giant was torn from dreams from the past by a frantic knocking at his chamber door.

---

Rubeus Hagrid lurched upright in bed at the sound from outside, his eyes wet as the last traces of the dream vanished from his eyes. He hadn’t known when he’d boarded the train all those years ago that it would be the last time he saw his father.

True, he’d swapped letters with his man, writing home in excitement about life at Hogwarts. There had been so much he’d wanted to share with the one who raised him: getting sorted into Gryffindor, the house of the courageous (which his father had found fitting, though Amissio himself had been a Hufflepuff), trying – and failing – to fly on a broom (as no ordinary broomstick would hold his weight), and of course, learning about the wonders of magic.

In his youth, Rubeus had been enchanted by the wonders of the magical world, with his favorite classes being Herbology under Professor Beery, and Care of Magical Creatures under Professor Kettleburn, though Transfiguration under Professor Dumbledore had been interesting as well.

And his letters had shown that.

But slowly, as the workload built up, he’d had no time to write, and the letters from home stopped coming. And when he’d come home for the winter, riding the Hogwarts Express alone, with some chocolate he’d bought from a third year who’d gone to Hogsmeade for his father, he’d been met at King’s Cross by a representative from St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

“Rubeus Hagrid?”

“Aye…who’s askin’?”

The Healer had told him that his father been hospitalized with Cerebrumous Spattergroit and was currently in critical condition.

“No…there’s a mistake,” young Hagrid had said. “Ter’s got ta be mistake. My dad can’t be…”

“I’m afraid there’s no mistake, Mister Hagrid. I’m sorry, but you have to return to Hogwarts for the holidays,” the Healer had told him, breaking the news as kindly as he could.

“I can’t go home?” the boy had asked. “Or even see my father?”

But the Healer had shaken his head.

“I wish I could say yes,” the man had replied, not sympathetically. “But your house in the Forest of Dean is currently being decontaminated and your father is in no condition to receive visitors. He’s highly contagious right now.”

“I…” The boy had gotten on his knees before the healer, startling the man, who had never seen any proper wizard react like this. Then again, he had never encountered someone quite like Rubeus Hagrid…and if his information was right, the eight-foot tall boy before him was only a first year at Hogwarts. “Please. Is there any way at all I can see him?”

“Mister Hagrid, I…”

“Please, sir,” the half-giant had begged, his dark eyes filled with anguish as he held onto the man’s legs. “I beg you. Dad’s never gotten sick like this before. He’s…he’s all I have.”

“…I…alright Mister Hagrid, you win,” the Healer had relented at last. He had a family too, after all, and if one of them were deathly ill… “I’ll take you to see St. Mungo’s and show him to you then. But when I say it’s time to go, its time. We can’t risk you getting infected as well. The last outbreak we had…”

“Thank you, sir. Thank you. You won’t regret this,” Rubeus had blubbered, hugging the Healer so slightly he almost broke the man’s ribs.

“Ow….”

“Sorry,” the boy had said hoarsely. “Don’t know me own strength.”

True to his word, the Healer – a certain Helbert Spleen – had brought the boy to the Magical Bugs and Diseases wing of St. Mungo’s to see his father – but only through the window of an isolation room, since the man was a very serious issue.

“Dad…!” Rubeus had uttered in shock, at the sight of Amissio Hagrid laying on a bed in the pure white room, wearing only a white hospital gown. The man’s body was thin…too thin…with no liveness in him whatsoever, with angry purple pustules and blotches covering almost every inch of exposed him. “What…what happened to him?”

“Cerebrumous Spattergroit,” Mister Spleen had said, shaking his head solemnly. “A particularly virulent strain of it, too.”

“Splatter…groit?” the boy had repeated, looking at his father’s body.

“It’s a wizarding disease caused by an infectious fungus,” the Healer had explained. “The pustules – the purple splotches you can see – are just one of the symptoms. Right now, your father can’t talk at all, since his throat is almost completely swollen, can barely move, and…”

“…and…?”

“…he doesn’t know who he is right now,” the Healer had said with some reluctance. “Or who anyone is. If he’d been brought in sooner, maybe things would be different, but…” Mister Spleen had just shrugged. “Things are what they are, I’m afraid.”

In addition to being rather like the Muggle disease smallpox, Cerebrumous Spattergroit had the rather severe effect of causing lesions in the brain as it progressed, leading to severe confusion and memory loss, and in some cases, the eventual breakdown of muscle movement and coordination altogether.

“Will he…will he be ok?” Hagrid had asked, turning away from the painful – too painful scene of his father laying there, helpless.

“We’re doing everything we can, son,” had been the Healer’s reply. “I can’t make any guarantees. I can’t. I…we’re doing everything we can.”

He’d been taken back to Hogwarts after that, and in the solitude of his dormitory, Rubeus Hagrid had broken down in tears. In his letters he’d talked on and on about Hogwarts, about how nice life was at the castle. He’d never really thought to ask how his dad was getting on alone. What he was getting up to. Even though his father was so much smaller than him, Rubeus had always seen him as an example of what a man should be – someone who was strong and brave and loving, someone who had chosen to raise his son alone rather than force him to endure taunts and jeers.

Who had taught Rubeus Hagrid to believe in himself – to believe that he was a person with a good heart, and that while many might not understand or accept him, they weren’t worth his while anyway.

In the spring, he’d been over the moon when he learned that his father had been discharged from St. Mungo’s, but when he came home, eager to see his dad, to give him a hug for the first time in almost a year…the man didn’t know who he was.

“Who are you?” Amissio Hagrid had asked his son, his eyes holding no sign of recognition as he looked over the half-giant who stood at the entrance to their home.

“Dad, it’s me…I’m back from Hogwarts.”

“Hogwarts?” his father had repeated, his expression confused as he waved the boy away. “Are you sure you don’t have the wrong house? My son isn’t old enough to go to Hogwarts.”

“Dad. It’s me. Rubeus. D…don’t you recognize me?”

The half-giant felt like someone had stabbed him in the chest as his father looked at him and saw only a stranger.

“Rubeus? You can’t be Rubeus. He’s just a little boy,” the man said quietly, tilting his head. “I think you must be a little confused. Look, it is getting late. If you want, you’re welcome to stay for dinner, and I can help you find your dad tomorrow. There’s only so many of us around these woods, after all.”

This…was more painful than anything he could have imagined. All of his life, his dad had been the one person he could always count on to acknowledge him, to accept him and love him unconditionally – and now the man didn’t even know who he was.

Still, the amnesiac Amissio had treated Rubeus as a friend, given him a room to stay in, shared meals with the boy, and went walking with him each day, trying his best to help Rubeus find his father – never quite realizing that he was the boy’s father all along. Yet he never seemed to mind when they failed, giving the boy a home to live in.

Rubeus had counted his blessings, as it had been a chance for him to learn about the man who no longer remembered him – to learn that Amissio Hagrid was a very good man – one who saw the very best in everyone around him, whether wizard, beast, or something else.

Around the end of the summer though, Amissio had fallen sick again with what was thought to be another bout of Spattergroit, and had been admitted to St. Mungo’s once again. Young Rubeus had been unable to stay with him as the school year was beginning, though the boy found his grades slipping as he worried about his father.

Until after about a month into the year, Amissio Hagrid had passed beyond worry’s – or any Healer’s – help, having contracted Dragon Pox during his time at St. Mungo’s that, coupled with the aggravated symptoms of his original illness, led to the man’s untimely demise.

There had been no funeral – the Hagrid family had no money for one, after all – with the body being cremated due to concerns about infection, so Rubeus had never had the chance to say goodbye. The only reason he even knew his father had died and not just disappeared was that he had been called to the Headmaster’s office one evening, where a visiting Healer Spleen had had given him the news.

Amissio Hagrid had passed away.

For Rubeus Hagrid, the world might as well have ended in that moment. His father…his dad…had been everything to him. Without his father telling him things would be alright, what did the world really have for him?

He had rejected it, refused to believe it, stormed out of the office screaming that it wasn’t possible – that his father couldn’t be killed by something so small, so…weak.

But slowly, the news had begun to sink in, with the half-giant alternating between periods of extreme grief…and utter rage, especially when any of his peers dared to make comments about his family’s poverty, to make fun of his distraction, or to say that it was better off that a man who had such poor taste was finally dead.

Those unfortunate enough to make such comments had ended up in the hospital wing, with the other students at Hogwarts growing fearful and quickly learning to avoid him, lest the violent second-year set upon them.

For a time, Hagrid had been happy about this.

After all, it was a painful thing to be around so many people, and the half-giant wasn’t feeling very sociable, but towards the end of the year he began to feel…lonely, because no one was willing to talk to him.

Everyone was frightened. Intimidated. Scared.

And so in his third year, he’d scraped together what money he could to acquire an Acromantula egg from a traveler he’d met in Knockturn Alley. He’d named the spider Aragog. Following his father’s example, he vowed not to react in fear, but to see the best in anyone – or anything. And because he had no one else to talk to, the spider had become his best friend and companion – almost a brother to him…

…until a Slytherin Prefect named Tom Marvolo Riddle framed him for the death of Myrtle Warren, claiming that Rubeus Hagrid had opened the Chamber of Secrets and unleashed a mighty beast for revenge on all those who had taunted him. After all, a disturbed loner – a half-giant, to boot! – who had a record of getting into fights and savaging his enemies was quite believable as a perpetrator, while the school’s model student certainly was not.

The fact that Hagrid had attacked Riddle to prevent the older boy from capturing – or killing – Aragog – had not helped his case, and so Rubeus Hagrid had been expelled from the school, with the Ministry snapping his wand shortly thereafter.

He’d never formally been tried for the killing for a number of reasons. First, because Myrtle Warren had been a Muggleborn, so she didn’t really matter to those in power. Second, because people were still afraid of him at the time, and had believed that expelling him from the school and breaking his wand – effectively exiling him from the world of magic – would be enough. And third, because Albus Dumbledore had vouched for him, and the Transfiguration Professor’s name had held a certain cachet in Britain, as he was the only person that Grindelwald had ever feared.

The great man had convinced Headmaster Dippet to let him stay at Hogwarts as Gamekeeper Ogg’s assistant, and had even allowed him to keep learning magic in secret – despite the official prohibition. Over the years, Dumbledore had been something of a surrogate father to him, which was why he in turn had been so loyal to the man – for Dumbledore had stood up for him when the rest of the world stood against him, believed him instead of that lying snake, and had given him a place to belong when he had nowhere else to go.

But with Albus Dumbledore now dead and Lucius Malfoy holding the reins of power…

‘It’s a mad world…’

Hagrid shook his head sadly as he clambered out of bed and padded over the door, blinking away the tiredness in his eyes as he undid the latch – and came face to face with a visibly distraught Harry Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived looked very pale, almost ill, with his eyes frenzied and unfocused, and he was wearing something very unusual – robes of what looked like grey dragonhide.

“Harry, what’s wrong?” the half-giant growled, concerned for his young…friend, he supposed. It had been nearly two years since the last time they’d talked, but Rubeus had always felt something of a kinship for the boy.

The two of them were orphans, after all – people who different, denied their rightful place in the world by vicious bullies who thought they were freaks, who bullies who thought they had the right to do as they pleased to those who couldn’t fight back.

Well, he’d showed Vernon Dursley what that was like, hadn’t he? Showing him that against magic, there was nothing he could do. And to really rub in the lesson, he hadn’t aimed his wand at Vernon, but the man’s pig-like son, giving him a tail.

…yes, he’d told Harry that he’d meant to transfigure the boy into a pig, but given that he wasn’t supposed to use magic, he’d settled for a tail, since that could just be cut out, as a nice permanent reminder to that family of bullies not to pick on those he loved.
“My friends…” Harry replied, nervous, worried, anxious all at once. “The Twins. They…trouble. In the forest.”

“What?!” Hagrid stiffened as the boy’s words sunk in. “I warned ‘em,” the half-giant growled. “I warned ‘em over and over again. The Forbidden Forest is forbidden for a reason!”

“I know,” the Boy-Who-Lived responded, pain plainly written across his features. “Hagrid, please, we need your help.”

Hagrid sighed, but nodded.

“Alright, Harry,” the caretaker said gruffly. “But once we get done with this, you and I will need to talk. It’s not safe to be around this late. Not ev’n for you and yer friends.”

Stopping only to pull on his moleskin overcoat, he left the room, heading towards the nearest set of stairs, with Harry trailing behind him.

“The Forest is a dangerous place, Harry, and you’ve not been trained to deal with them,” the half-giant explained as they walked, frustrated. “And neither’ve your friends, for that matter. For three years I kept them out the forest, and then now when I can’t, they go looking for trouble.”

“What kind of dangers, Hagrid?” Harry asked, his voice unusually subdued.

“All kinds, Harry. Wolves, trolls, gytrashes, bloodsuckin’ bugbears, an’ more,” Hagrid listed, shaking his head as they stepped into the Great Hall. “An’ centaurs are the worst. Right proud they are, an’ unfriendly to any wizard they see. Ruddy stargazers.”

They continued in silence for a few moments more, their footsteps carrying them across the Hall at a pace Harry found difficult to keep up, until they came at last to the door.

“…and Aragog?” the boy asked quietly.

“Bah, Aragog’s no danger to anyone. Promised me that when I raised—“ And then the half-giant froze as Harry’s question sunk in, his eyes widening in shock. “Harry…” he said slowly, almost nervously, “how do yeh know about Aragog?”

In response, the Boy-Who-Lived bade Hagrid to open the door, which he did - only to recoil in horror as he saw the unmoving corpse of the monstrous Aragog simply laying there.

“Aragog!” Hagrid uttered, moving to the spider’s side, checking for any sign of life, any sign that maybe his first impression had been mistaken. But the more he looked, the more he saw that pained him – deep, bloody gashes in the spider’s side, holes ripped through its body. Aragog’s legs ripped almost clean off, torn apart by something vicious and powerful. What…what could have done this to his oldest friend? “Harry, what happened?” he breathed, the plight of the Twins forgotten in his shock. “How did Aragog…?”

But his voice trailed off as he saw the cold look on the face of the boy called the Heir of Slytherin, one which reminded him of another boy from just over fifty years ago.
“…no,” the half-giant whispered, stepping back as a dark realization filled his mind. “Yeh…don’t tell me that yeh…”

“Yes Hagrid,” Harry said gravely, his eyes hard and flashing. “I killed him. Him and the rest of his offspring.”

“Why…?”

“Hagrid, look at him,” the Boy-Who-Lived stated, iron in his voice. “He and his kind are vicious, dangerous killers. It was only a matter of time before they killed someone else. And we did what was necessary.”

“Someone…else?” Hagrid asked incredulously. “Bollocks! He…Aragog wasn’t no ‘arm to anyone. And his sons and daughters never hurt me when I went to feed ‘em.” Noting an utter lack of surprise on Harry’s face, the half-giant’s eye widened. “But yeh knew that. Yeh knew I knew Aragog. That I took care of him.”

“That you found him a mate?” Harry inquired.

The caretaker’s hard expression was all the answer he needed.

“Why…?” Hagrid asked again, stricken with grief…and betrayal. Three years ago, he’d saved Harry from the Dursleys, and this…this was how the Boy-Who-Lived repaid him?

He didn’t expect an answer this time – not something that would make sense, anyway.

…he certainly didn’t expect what Harry said next.

“…I’m sure Myrtle’s parents still ask that every day,” the Heir of Slytherin uttered – echoing the sentiment of another powerful, charismatic young wizard. An orphan who had become the greatest terror Britain had ever known.

“That’s, no!” Hagrid roared, stepping towards Harry – but stilled as the boy drew his wand, pointing it at the half-giant’s heart. “Aragog never – !”

“He’ll never hurt anyone again,” the Boy-Who-Lived declared. “Two years ago, after Sokaris died, I made a promise to myself that I would save everyone. That I would make sure no innocent would die if I could stop it. Am I supposed to spare Aragog and his ilk after he already killed centaurs? Am I supposed to believe that an Acromantula would restrain itself from seeking prey, especially after he already killed someone fifty years ago?”

“THAT’S A DAMNED LIE!” Hagrid thundered, seeing red as he stepped forward—

Whump-BOOM!

—and was blinded by a flashbang ofuda that detonated immediately before his eyes, with him staggering back in pain until he was backed against the Hogwarts castle wall.

"I thought yeh would end up like yer parents," the half-giant said bitterly, grief, betrayal and fury writ across his face as he looked between the corpse of the Acromantula he had once raised – and the boy he had brought out of captivity. The boy who lied. The boy who killed. "But yeh turned out just like him."

"Him, Hagrid?" the Heir of Slytherin inquired, his wand still pointed at Hagrid’s heart.

"You know who. You-Know-Who," Hagrid grunted, his body tensing. "Yeh must feel proud, slaughterin' the innocent, bein' a right mighty Slytherin, choosin’ who lives and who dies."

"Hagrid, please…"

"Don’t talk to me, monster!” the half-giant shouted. “I don't know yeh. I don’t think I ever knew yeh, and I don't want to know yeh, either. Why did you even call me here, to taunt me? To show me what became of my oldest friend, who I raised from an egg? To see how I would react to knowing you’re a ruddy murderer?! "

"No,” came another voice, this one belonging to Gilderoy Lockhart, as he and a full squad of Aurors appeared from the night, shrugging off their invisibility cloaks, with their wands joining Harry’s in pointing at the half-giant. “To get you to confess, as you have done. Stand down, Rubeus Hagrid, unless you wish to die this night."

“You…!” It took everything the half-giant had not to just rush at them – and even then, he didn’t know why he stopped. He had nothing holding him back, after all. No future. No friends. No family. Nothing. In the end, he settled for a few final words the Boy-Who-Lived – the boy who had obviously begun to walk in You-Know-Who’s footsteps. “Yer just like him,” Hagrid repeated venomously, his eyes filled with loathing. "I shouldna brought you here, Harry. I shoulda left yeh with them. World would be better off without yeh."

Shortly thereafter, Rubeus Hagrid was placed under arrest and taken away.

---

“Matou?” came a subdued voice – almost a whisper, with Shinji rising from his chair and looking up from his bedside vigil towards the door of the Hospital Wing to see a troubled-looking Harry Potter holding a copy of the Daily Prophet in his hands. “Can we talk?”

“What do you need, Harry?” Shinji said tiredly, shaking his head to clear it of the cobwebs in his mind. He hadn’t slept much these last few days, as he’d been sick with worry. It had been three days since the raid on the spider hollow, and Luna Lovegood had not yet opened her eyes.

And not because of any physical injury, either.

No. This was something else – something which magi and others dealt with far more often than wizard-kind, given the kinds of spells each used.

Prana depletion.

And given that prana was the energy not just of magic, but of life…that was a very dangerous thing indeed.

“Lovegood hasn’t woken up yet, huh?” Harry asked, with Matou shaking his head. “I hope she’ll be alright.”

“You and me both, Harry,” Shinji replied, rubbing the bags from his eyes. “What can I do for you? And I can’t help but notice you chose to visit while Madam Pomfrey was out.”

“Mm. Which reminds me,” Harry noted. “Muffliato.”

Shinji frowned as a low buzzing, just at the threshold of his hearing, sounded – and lingered on and on.

“Privacy spell, I take it?” he inquired.

“It has its uses,” Harry admitted. “Snape taught it to me.”

“So he did,” Shinji noted, wondering what else the Potions Master had taught his friend – but knowing Harry wasn’t about to share. After all, they were also rivals for the position of Potions Champion of Hogwarts, if each for their own reasons.

Without another word, the Boy-Who-Lived handed his friend the Daily Prophet, a special edition that was all about Rubeus Hagrid, featuring a basic biography of the half-giant, as well as coverage on the Chamber of Secrets incident of fifty years ago – and how he’d avoided prosecution because of Albus Dumbledore – a man whose corruption was becoming more and more clear as the years went on, the dragon that Hagrid had attempted to raise two years ago – and which had been sent back to a reserve since, as well as the Acromantula colony the half-giant had established…and which the Stone Cutters had destroyed.

The Prophet hailed them as heroes who had, against all odds, exposed the half-giant’s crimes and protected the students of Hogwarts – all of whom had been at risk from the actions of the man who had once been Hogwarts’ gamekeeper.

“Lucius Malfoy asked me if I had any preference for what was to be done with…Hagrid,” the Boy-Who-Lived said quietly, when Shinji had finished. “Right now, I…I don’t know. I never thought Hagrid would hurt someone, but Aragog? He…he and his spawn…nearly killed us, Matou. If it wasn’t for…” Harry trailed off. “I don’t know what to believe right now, and I don’t really know if there is something I want. Part of me thinks that we should give Hagrid another chance, that he means well. Part of me wants to throw him in Azkaban, where he can’t hurt anyone ever again. And part of me…”

Shinji sighed and folded the newspaper.

“Harry.”

“Yes?”

“Right now, I think you’re emotionally compromised,” the boy from the east said calmly. “You’re confused, you’re tired, you don’t know what to think. You want to know my advice, Harry?”

“What is it?”

“Stay out of this,” Shinji cautioned, shaking his head.

“But…”

“I know you want what’s best for Hagrid, but you’re not even sure what’s best for him right now. And even if you wanted him to be given a second chance…” Shinji held up the Prophet. “They wouldn’t let you. Not with everything that’s happened. Just let the system run its course. He’ll get a trial like anyone else would, and I’m sure in the end, justice will be served.”

“I…you’re probably right, Matou,” Harry conceded, closing his eyes. “Sorry for bothering you with this. I know you’ve had a lot to deal with yourself, since Lovegood…”

There was a long moment of silence as the Boy-Who-Lived didn’t know what to say.

“…she looked after me when I collapsed after fighting a demon bear – one I almost ended up dying to because of my own stupidity,” the Matou scion admitted. “That she’s here, because I asked her to…”

“—if you hadn’t, Matou, we’d all be dead. Or well, the Twins would be. So would Robert. And me. I guess you two would have lived.”

“…I guess. But still…”

“This is what Lockhart means by the difficult choices a leader has to make, huh? The needs of the many and needs of the few?” Harry mused as he looked over to the sleeping girl, with her white fox laying on her pillow.

“She told me…” Shinji paused, shaking his head. “She said her magical energy was adequate. But with what happened, she must have been running low.”

“If she’d been honest, what would you have done?” Harry asked quietly.

Shinji just looked away.

“…that’s what I thought,” the Boy-Who-Lived murmured. “And I guess she knew that too.”

“…I guess.”

The air between them was silent for almost a minute before Harry spoke again.

“You love her, don’t you?”

Shinji looked down at Luna’s sleeping form, and reached out to stroke her cheek.

“I do, actually,” he admitted, a vulnerable expression flitting across his face for a moment before it vanished. “I guess that’s why I’m so worried right now.”

“…as much as you loved Sokaris?” Harry questioned, as the boy from the east winced. “Actually, don’t answer that. That was…sorry.”

“I’m looking forward to facing you for the final potions challenge,” Shinji said after a while, changing the topic. “Especially since you’ve been trained by Snape himself.”

“…that doesn’t worry you, Matou?” Harry inquired, noticing the change, but letting his friend get away with it. It was his fault for bringing up a sore topic, after all.

“I was thinking I could use a good challenge,” the Matou scion rejoined, smirking for the first time. “If you want to become champion, you’ll have to work for it, Snape’s protégé or no.”

Harry sighed.

It was clear to him that Shinji had no intention of backing down, and that the boy from the east had his own reasons for competing. That they probably began – and ended – with Sokaris was not really something he could judge, given that Harry knew how devastated he’d be if he were to lose Daphne.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else from my best friend,” the Boy-Who-Lived replied softly. Without another word, he took back his copy of the Daily Prophet and dismissed the Muffliato spell, before leaving his fellow Stone Cutters in peace.

In the silence that followed, Shinji returned to his chair by Luna’s side, reaching out to hold her hand, and twine his fingers with hers. He knew that in the last few days, Zelkova had been busy converting the magical energy of Hogwarts into a trickle of prana for Luna and her kitsune. Enough, at least, to sustain them her and allow their bodies to heal from their exertions.

And yet the outcome was far from certain.

While those descended from the fey – or youkai – tended to have greater resilience than normal humans, it was because of the extra prana their bodies could store – and use. The same thing made magi – especially those with crests – a tad more resilient to death, as long as they weren’t killed outright.

The sword’s other edge of course, was that their bodies needed more prana – and could burn it far faster than normal humans, and if they fully ran out…

And so Matou Shinji kept a quiet vigil by Luna Lovegood’s bedside, hoping she’d wake up.

If she didn’t…if she died because of what he’d asked of her, he’d…he’d…

…and then he felt something.

A twitch – no, fingers tightening on his, as quietly, Luna Lovegood opened her lovely silver eyes.

“I…” she began, finding her voice scratchy. “I had the oddest dream.”

Shinji quickly stood, helping her sit and handing her a cup of water, which she drank gratefully, in small sips.

“What did you see?” he asked curiously, thinking that the sight of her awake and whole was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“You told me…,” she whispered, leaning toward him, her silver eyes looking into his grey. “In the dream. You told me…you loved me.”

His heart seemed to stop for a moment at the emotion in her words, as he leaned forward and kissed her with a passion that surprised even him.

“It was right,” he said, once they pulled apart – and then he knew he’d been wrong – that the expression of wonder and joy on her face – the way her eyes lit up, the way she smiled – was the most beautiful thing in the world. “I do.”

---

Choice 101: It is time for the final Potions Challenge. And this time, it is a dark and stormy night, with the ground very much like mud. Each of us have been dropped in at a different insertion point. Our objective is collect potions ingredients and create the most advanced potion we can, with the one who creates the best potion being chosen as champion.

So what is our strategy against our good friend Harry?

[ ] Force him into an engagement on the field, where we hold the edge - after all, if we are the only one left to brew, then we will be the winner
[ ] Attempt to match him in brewing
[ ] Take all of the ingredients in the any caches you find, leave none behind - after all, he needs ingredients, doesn't he?
[ ] (write-in)

Choice 102a: If you win, who will your second be?

[ ] Harry
[ ] Fred
[ ] George
[ ] Daphne

Choice 102b: In the event you lose and are chosen as a second, would you accept? Note that you will only have access to the public facilities on the island and will not be allowed to compete unless something happens to the Champion.

[ ] Yes
[ ] No

[skulkidcachi90]

So we unlocked the worst Route (the Luna route), fuck everything.

Choice 101
So what is our strategy against our good friend Harry?

[X] Force him into an engagement on the field, where we hold the edge - after all, if we are the only one left to brew, then we will be the winner

Choice 102a: If you win, who will your second be?

[x] Fred

Choice 102b: In the event you lose and are chosen as a second, would you accept? Note that you will only have access to the public facilities on the island and will not be allowed to compete unless something happens to the Champion.


[x] No

[Caster]

The Potions challenge, what is the goal? Is it brew the best potion possible or brew a certain potion? I think it might be best to monopolize ingredients, given that I'm betting Harry is counting on a direct confrontation. Beating Harry in brewing is impossible, and both sides know that. So I'm betting Harry is expecting us to fight him. Playing into that is unwise. But I would want to organize the ingredient stealing in the best way possible.

Which of the Twins is better at potions if you had to say? If not repeating elemental affinity and just general stuff like that is good. I'm sure they have specific talents after all, would want to do one of them.

I vote no on being a second. Not sure it has as much value.

[Nephirin]

[ ] Force him into an engagement on the field, where we hold the edge - after all, if we are the only one left to brew, then we will be the winner
[ ] Harry
[ ] Yes

Man, forced Luna development yet again. :P

So now that the vote's locked in, what would have happened had the Clemency vote gone through?

[mAc Chaos]

It's not really forced, when we decided not to use our own fusion that means we were choosing to let Luna shoulder the burden. When I was reading the battle chapter I was thinking "good thing we didn't do that or Shinji would've been exhausted early and they'd all die," but this is a consequence of it. Almost had a repeat of last year.

Not sure what the long term consequences of Hagrid will be. Maybe Harry will get upset with Shinji for telling him to stay out of it and blame him, or maybe this is the last we'll hear about it.

[saki]

[ ] Force him into an engagement on the field, where we hold the edge - after all, if we are the only one left to brew, then we will be the winner (Tough im a little hesitant since Harry probably is aware that this is Shinji best bet on wining and could have developed some countermeasures. But i dont want to overthink it to much)
[ ] Harry

If we say no can we go to the tri wizard competition?

[Omida]

Great chapter, with absolutely heartbreaking peek at Hagrid's school years and events from the end of previous chapter from Hagrid's perspective. And scene at hospital wing was touching too. Not only as it solidifies Shinji's relationship with Luna, but also his friendship with Harry. I mean, Shinji expressed our decision as concern for Harry, and well, he was right, Harry really was in no state to make any decision regarding Hagrid.

[X] Attempt to match him in brewing - Taking all ingredients is bad. It means that not only Shinji has to brew the potion, but to also defend himself from literally everyone else. It's incredibly arrogant option, in my opinion. Taking Harry out on the other hand is risky and shady. While we fight, someone else might finish and besides Shinji expressed desire in finding someone who could challenge him. I would like to think that he wouldn't be a dick in his methods.

[X] Harry - Because Twins already have booked vacation with Shinji and we fulfilled Pansy's fantasy. Harry had shown that he is great, probably the only one on our level, so the is he best contingency for us.

[X] No - If Shinji fails, I think he would try his hand at Tri-Wizard Tournament, so that he could show Sokaris something to his name.

[saki]

[X] Attempt to match him in brewing - Taking all ingredients is bad. It means that not only Shinji has to brew the potion, but to also defend himself from literally everyone else. It's incredibly arrogant option, in my opinion. Taking Harry out on the other hand is risky and shady. While we fight, someone else might finish and besides Shinji expressed desire in finding someone who could challenge him. I would like to think that he wouldn't be a dick in his methods.

Isnt this a mano-a-mano between Harry and Shinji??
I was running on that assumption. Anyway, i think we have word of god that Harry out class shinji in potion making so you are trying to beat him at his strongest.

[Nephirin]

It's not really forced, when we decided not to use our own fusion that means we were choosing to let Luna shoulder the burden. When I was reading the battle chapter I was thinking "good thing we didn't do that or Shinji would've been exhausted early and they'd all die," but this is a consequence of it. Almost had a repeat of last year.

Not sure what the long term consequences of Hagrid will be. Maybe Harry will get upset with Shinji for telling him to stay out of it and blame him, or maybe this is the last we'll hear about it.

No, Luna suffering from prana exhaustion makes sense. I was referring to the forced romantic development of Shinji declaring his love for her and kissing her.