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Hagrid didn't stay long. Today was also the start of the school year at Hogwarts. He unloaded a massive sack from Norbert's back, filled with dried Forbidden Forest specialties—mostly meat—along with a large bag of centaur spices, enough to last a year or two, and some miscellaneous trinkets. After all, Durmstrang had no Forbidden Forest. Though there was a magical forest nearby, it was relatively small and had already been converted into part of the school's experimental zone for biological and botanical research. Hunting for food here was much harder than at Hogwarts.
Hagrid was one of the people at Hogwarts who cared for Harry the most—second only to Snape. This somewhat clumsy giant wasn't just an elder figure to Harry; he was also a big friend who never put on airs and could play around with him.
"When Christmas break comes, why don't we set Hagrid up with Madame Maxime, Fleur?"
"They'd probably get along well," Fleur nodded. In terms of height and, well, everything else, Hagrid and Madame Maxime were indeed a good match.
At this moment, Hagrid, fresh from his holiday mishap, was still recovering. He had burned off a thick layer of fat, which hadn't yet been replenished. Dressed in an expensive, hand-stitched leather coat with a rugged style, his bulging muscles threatened to burst through the seams. Every inch of him radiated a primal, prehistoric masculinity—an aura of sheer dominance.
If even someone as imposing as Hagrid wasn't a match for Madame Maxime, then there was probably no one else in the world who would be. Sure, he wasn't the smoothest talker, and he'd likely be a bit flustered when the time came, but he wouldn't be short of eager strategists ready to help him win her over.
"Hagrid's got this in the bag!"
With that, Harry waved at Thor, who was standing nearby. "Hey, brat, come over and carry this sack."
"Don't be mean to Thor—he's such a good boy!"
Fleur had barely met the adorable, beautiful little dragon before she started defending him. But Harry, as his "father," still carried an air of authority. Thor, who had been prancing about, immediately trotted over, wrapped his tail around the massive sack—several times heavier than himself—and hoisted it onto his back, using his smaller wings to support it.
"Won't the sack tear? That thing must weigh five or six tons," Marcus asked, astonished. He tried lifting it himself but could barely budge it, his face turning red from the effort.
"It's made from unicorn hair. It could hold another fifty tons without breaking."
Harry grinned. Hagrid was practically the wealthiest man at Hogwarts when it came to unicorn hair. At his place, it was used for everything—from ropes to carpets—so making sacks out of it was nothing unusual.
"Wait… Does Hagrid need a godson? If I rush back to Hogwarts now, do you think I can ask him to adopt me?"
Marcus wasn't great at math, but he had a sinking realization—his entire family's fortune probably couldn't buy even a few of Hagrid's sacks. Becoming the godson of such a wealthy and generous man? He'd take that deal in a heartbeat.
"Tell you what," Harry smirked, clapping Marcus on the shoulder—so hard that Marcus actually shrank an inch. "You can ask him once you can beat even one of his fingers in an arm-wrestling match. Until then…"
"Hiss—!"
Marcus winced, rubbing his sore shoulder. Now he understood why Hagrid liked Harry so much—he hit just like him.
The rather eye-catching group soon arrived at the old Durmstrang castle, perched on the mid-slope of Hilbert Mountain. Though the mountain wasn't tall—just over a thousand meters—the view from the midway point was stunning.
To the left of the castle, a narrow lake stretched through the valley. The area had excellent geothermal resources, and on the right side of the castle, misty steam rose into the air. A glance at the map confirmed that it was a modified geothermal hot spring—perfect for students to recover from exhaustion before getting a good night's sleep in preparation for the next day.
Durmstrang might seem laid-back, with minimal academic pressure, but that was merely an illusion. Unless you were planning to drop out after three years and become a stepping stone for the wizarding world, graduating without hard work was nearly impossible.
Grindelwald had significantly raised the standard for an "ordinary wizard." Those who only knew a few convenient spells for daily life were considered no more than common folk. To truly enter the working-class ranks, a student had to master at least one specialized skill. Category B students fell into this group, making up the bulk of Durmstrang's student body. B- and C-level students accounted for about 80% of the school's population. If foreign exchange students weren't included, that percentage would rise to nearly 90%.
As one of the most competitive figures in the magical world, Grindelwald naturally ran an intensely competitive school. If you didn't work hard, that was fine—just be prepared to become the foundation that others would step on as they climbed higher.
"Whoa! Harry, am I just lucky to be your roommate, or are all Durmstrang dorms this fancy?"
Upon pushing open the door to their Room 4010 dormitory, Cedric was taken aback by the sheer luxury of their accommodations. But he wasn't from a poor family—his household was firmly middle-class by wizarding standards.
"A kitchen, a dining area, workout equipment… Wait, what's this? Some kind of magic…" He hesitated before realization struck. "Oh! I've seen one before—at my aunt's house in Paris! A magical… image projector or something?"
"If it weren't for the two beds, bookshelves, and wardrobes in here, I wouldn't believe this was a student dormitory. Aren't dorms supposed to be crammed with four or five beds, have a tiny, useless desk, and force you to trek downstairs to a communal shower? Basically, a prison without iron bars?"
Since getting together with Cho, Cedric's sharp tongue had only gotten sharper. He used to be the perfect Hufflepuff Prince, but now his entire persona had crumbled beyond recognition. If anyone called him out on it, he'd simply retort, "Do you even know how to make a girl happy?" For the sake of love, he had sacrificed himself—a truly touching tale.
"Cho, do you need help with anyth—ah, ow!"
Just as Cedric was about to head over to the girls' dorm, he walked straight into an invisible barrier at the doorway. The door across from theirs was wide open, but a transparent magical wall blocked the entrance. In the wizarding world, setting up a "No Entry Without Permission" spell was easy—just a few incantations, and that was that.
"You have to knock, Ced," Harry said, shaking the Durmstrang Student Handbook in his hand. "Breaking and entering gets you tied up and whipped."
"Durmstrang doesn't even have a Filch—where'd they get medieval torture methods from?" Cedric grumbled, rubbing his nose. He snatched the paper from Harry and skimmed through it before pressing a small button by the door. There was no audible chime, but within seconds, Cho and Fleur appeared at the entrance.
"So this is how visitors are supposed to enter?"
Fleur and Cho tapped a projection panel by the door. The invisible barrier remained, but now Cedric and Harry were temporarily granted access to step inside.
"Feels pretty much the same as our dorm."
The two boys curiously scanned the room. The setup was nearly identical to theirs, with the only difference being a slightly "softer" interior design—nothing drastically different.
"What, Cedric? What did you think a girls' dorm would look like?"
"Well, obviously—" Cedric hesitated, then scratched his head with an awkward smile. "Obviously, just like this."
It was only the first day of school, after all. Even if he had been hoping to see a chaotic mess with underwear strewn everywhere, that wasn't happening anytime soon.
"By the way, Harry, where are you keeping Thor?"
"Not sure. I'll ask around later, see if I can get him an ID tag or something. The dorms are spacious, so I'll just keep him in my room. If he ever gets too big to fit, I'll apply for a giant kennel and stick it on the castle roof."
"Right. And when that happens, you can sleep in the kennel and let Thor have your room."
"Huh?"
Harry stood there, mouth agape. How had his status fallen so low that his own "son" outranked him?!
"We're having hotpot tonight," he announced, putting on a serious face. "I brought some hotpot broth back with me—perfect for dipping some dragon meat. I bet it'd be nice and chewy."
"You wouldn't dare!"
Fleur's hands went to her hips, her presence instantly overwhelming. Within seconds, Harry found himself bent over, clutching his ear, apologizing profusely. In the process, he somehow lost all rights to his "son's" custody.
"You're lucky your mom loves you," he muttered at Thor. "Otherwise, you'd be in the pot by now."
After heading downstairs, Harry was immediately greeted by Thor, who had been waiting at the door. The little dragon launched himself forward in an enthusiastic pounce, covering Harry's face with slobbery licks. For all his supposed might and majesty, Thor had barely mastered a couple of imposing dragon roars. Instead, his default mode of communication was an uncanny imitation of Fang's "woof woof"—so much so that if not for his purebred ancient dragon appearance, anyone would have mistaken him for an overly energetic dog.
"Woof?"
Tilting his small head, Thor wrapped himself around Harry, putting on an innocent expression.
"If you embarrass me with that barking again, I swear I'll twist your head off and replace it with a real dog's."
Sensing that his "father" was in a bad mood, Thor let out a fake cough, cleared his throat, and bellowed a deafening, thunderous roar that shook the air.
"Now that's more like it."
Satisfied, Harry ruffled the little dragon's head. He had no idea where he was supposed to go next, but walking forward seemed like a decent start.
He still hadn't opened the letter Snape had given him from Grindelwald—now was as good a time as any. But the moment he skimmed over it, his heart dropped.
"What the hell?! I came here to study, not to get put to work! Thirteen years old, and I'm already child labor?!"
The letter wasn't just some greeting—it was a job assignment.
Two thousand Galleons a month, allocation of special forces training slots, and rights to test concept weapons…
Harry's eye twitched. "Principal Grindelwald really knows how to spot talent, huh?"
Thor, sensing that his father had just let out a very dog-like noise, turned his head in confusion. But the ways of filthy humans and their petty scheming were beyond his little dragon brain. Instead, he gave Harry's face another rough lick, as if helping him wash away his worries.
"Guess I don't need to go looking for anyone after all."
Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out his red-badged insignia. Teacher badges were slightly different from student ones—not in shape, but in function. More than just an identification token, it also served as a portable communication device. Unfortunately, outside of Durmstrang, its signal was weak. Though the Maginet was already rolling out across the Purist Party's territory, it wasn't fully operational yet. The school's 5G magic network instantly dropped to 3G the moment he stepped outside, making the connection frustratingly spotty.
Grindelwald had left his short-contact code. After fiddling with the device for a bit, Harry finally figured out how to use the magic call function and sent out a video request.
The moment Grindelwald's holographic projection appeared before him, Harry was momentarily taken aback. He had seen the old man's magical communication devices before, but those had only been tiny pop-up video windows with external audio. In just a year, the technology had evolved significantly.
"Well, if it isn't our dear Professor Harry Potter."
Grindelwald, half-reclining in his chair, set down the documents he had been reading and greeted Harry with a smile.
"So, has Durmstrang given you any surprises yet? Quite different from Hogwarts, isn't it?"
Harry narrowed his eyes. "Just get to the point. What else do you want from me?"
It had been a while since their last interaction. The time they spoke the most was back when Harry was still at Hogwarts two years ago. But Grindelwald—who had lived for over a century and had an even sharper eye for people than Dumbledore—could tell exactly what Harry was about to say with just a glance.
"If it's about Professor Snape, I can't help you."
Grindelwald's tone remained casual, but there was no room for argument.
"That was one of his conditions for taking the job at Durmstrang. And as for you—your body is still recovering, isn't it? Taking his potions will do you good."
"That's because you've never tasted it."
Harry's mouth twitched. What he really wanted was for Grindelwald to dump more work onto Snape—enough to keep him too busy to poison—no, medicate—him.
"Alright, just two things then."
Looking slightly disappointed, Harry held up two fingers.
"First, I need to register my dog—uh, my dragon. Otherwise, he won't even be able to get into the dorms."
"Hagrid's Thunder Rift Dragon, right?" Grindelwald nodded knowingly. "I read his research paper on it—absolutely brilliant. Full of imagination… and, shall we say, unique breeding techniques. I'd love to bring him over to Durmstrang. Your Professor Snape misses him quite a bit, you know."
"Yeah, right. More like he wants to rope Hagrid into some weird experiments."
Harry rolled his eyes. Snape had always been fascinated by Hagrid's unique biology, but after getting in touch with Slytherin, that interest had skyrocketed. A perfect hybrid of giant lineage, an extreme example of physical evolution—someone like Hagrid was likely one of a kind in the entire world.
"I won't deny it."
Grindelwald chuckled. "Even Slytherin himself is intrigued by Hagrid. That alone makes him quite special."
It wasn't surprising that Grindelwald knew about Slytherin. Given how close he and Dumbledore were—practically sharing each other's robes—there was no way Dumbledore would've kept it from him. In fact, it was likely that Grindelwald had even spoken with Slytherin personally.
Slytherin's spectral remnant wasn't some fleeting projection that dissipated in minutes. Unlike ordinary magical echoes, a Revived One's magic didn't naturally fade away. As long as he didn't exert himself too much, Slytherin's shadow avatar could exist indefinitely, since maintaining a projection required minimal magical energy.
"As for registering your pet," Grindelwald continued, "just walk him up to your dorm's entrance. It'll be handled automatically."
"Great. That brings me to my second issue."
Harry lowered one finger.
"I need a laboratory. The alchemized armor Nicolas Flamel made for me should be arriving soon, but I've changed quite a bit since then. The original design might not fit perfectly anymore—I need to modify it myself."
Grindelwald nodded. "You now have access to Central Tower. The alchemy labs are on the 77th floor. Master Bohant, one of the most renowned alchemists, works there. While Flamel is undoubtedly more powerful and versatile, Bohant specializes in alchemized weaponry. He's a true master—you might learn a thing or two from him."
"Appreciate it, Headmaster."
"A trivial matter." Grindelwald waved a hand dismissively. "Once you're settled, come find me when you have time. I have something that requires your assistance."
Harry raised a brow. "With what, exactly?"
"You didn't even explain it in the letter. When I first read it, I thought you were about to weigh me by the pound and sell me off."
Grindelwald smirked. "Not even I can afford a Revived One. We may not know much about your kind, but one thing's for certain—your elders are fiercely protective of their own."
That confirmed it—Grindelwald must have interacted with Slytherin before. And judging by the certainty in his tone, he might've even gotten an earful from the ancient wizard.
Slytherin wasn't known for his gentle nature. Even when he was just playing around, he had managed to turn himself into a Black Magic Overlord even scarier than Grindelwald.
"For now, just enjoy the Durmstrang experience," Grindelwald said. "If you need anything else, look for Vice Headmaster Sestian. He handles most of the school's internal and external affairs."
With that, the ever-busy Grindelwald ended the call.
As the projection flickered out, Harry could just imagine the mountain of paperwork sitting on Grindelwald's desk—easily over a foot high.
Running a newly rising magical empire wasn't exactly a job with a lot of free time.
(End of Chapter)