After leaving the headmaster's office, David found a line of students already waiting at the staircase on the eighth floor. Most of them were Ravenclaws, with a few Hufflepuffs among them.
After briefly explaining his punishment, David left with the crowd.
That night, he arrived at the door of Filch's office.
Dong! Dong!
"Come in!"
A hoarse voice called from inside.
As soon as he entered, David was hit by the strong smell of grilled fish. A skinny Maine C**n cat with dark fur sat perched on a chair, staring at him intently.
"Follow me."
Filch quickly packed up, grabbed an oil lamp, and limped out of the office without another word.
The journey was silent. Filch wasn't at all like Fred and Robert had described—no extreme foul mouth or unnecessary scolding. In fact, he seemed uninterested in David entirely.
David figured it out soon enough. Filch knew what had happened earlier that afternoon. He wasn't exactly a good person, but he also wasn't reckless. Unlike other students, David wasn't someone to provoke.
Filch wasn't afraid of students with sharp tongues, but he didn't want trouble—especially not retaliation.
But if anything happened to his cat, Mrs. Norris, that was a different story. That was a line he wouldn't allow anyone to cross.
When they finally reached Hagrid's cabin, Filch stopped abruptly.
"This is it. Go on your own."
Without hesitation, he turned and limped away as quickly as possible.
David watched him go, confused. He hadn't done anything to the man. Even when sneaking out at night, he'd never run into Filch before.
Woof! Woof!
Two sharp barks cut through the night. Moments later, a large, droopy-faced dog came bounding toward him, wagging its tail furiously.
"David, is that you? Come in!"
The door to the cabin swung open, and Hagrid's massive frame appeared in the doorway. He recognized Fang's excited barking instantly—he knew the visitor must be someone familiar.
Hagrid had already heard about David's punishment earlier at dinner.
"It's me, Hagrid!"
David stepped into the warm, cozy cabin, Fang trotting in beside him.
The fire crackled in the stone fireplace, casting a golden glow across the room. The heat was almost overwhelming after the chilly night air.
On the wooden table sat a large pot of steaming venison stew, a plate of crispy fried pork skin, and, of course, Hagrid's infamous rock cakes.
"Eat something first. The Forbidden Forest is cold at night, and the patrols take a while," Hagrid said, closing the door behind him.
He ladled a bowl of venison soup and placed it in front of David.
David knew the temperature in the Forbidden Forest dropped close to freezing at night, and patrols often lasted hours. Without something warm in his stomach, it would be miserable.
"Thanks, Hagrid."
He didn't hesitate, picking up a fork to spear a piece of venison. Surprisingly, it was quite good.
As for the rock cakes… well, he'd learned his lesson before. Instead of biting into one dry, he dunked it into the hot soup first. It softened just enough to be edible.
"Hagrid, do you like spicy food?"
Hagrid paused mid-bite, chewing thoughtfully before nodding. "Aye, I can handle a bit of heat."
David grinned. "I'll bring you a gift tomorrow—a Muggle way of eating that's really popular with the Hufflepuff students."
Hagrid's eyes lit up with curiosity.
Over the past few weeks, David had eaten in the Hufflepuff common room a few times, and hot pot was becoming a favorite among them. The house-elves were even trying to perfect the recipe, though it still needed some work.
He had already written home, requesting a shipment of authentic hot pot ingredients.
"Sounds good!" Hagrid said eagerly.
After finishing their meal, Hagrid stretched and got up. "Right then, let's head out."
He grabbed an oversized oil lamp, slung a massive crossbow over his back, and secured a quiver of arrows over his shoulder.
Fang followed them, though David suspected the dog wasn't exactly reliable when it came to danger.
They set off along the winding path leading into the Forbidden Forest. The dim light of Hagrid's lantern barely cut through the darkness. Shadows danced between the ancient trees, creating eerie shapes that seemed to move on their own.
Hagrid, however, was completely at ease. As they walked, he explained some of the forest's dangers and tried to reassure David.
In Hagrid's mind, a normal student should be at least a little afraid of the Forbidden Forest.
David, however, wasn't particularly scared. He had seen worse things before.
After an hour of uneventful walking—aside from a few magical creatures rustling in the distance—David finally spoke up.
"Hagrid, why do you use a crossbow instead of a wand?"
Hagrid glanced at him, surprised by the question.
"Well, for dealing with aggressive magical creatures, bows and crossbows can be useful," he explained. "But against poachers? Not so much. Wizards can block arrows with magic."
David frowned, considering that.
He had tested protective spells before. A strong Shield Charm could block bullets from Muggle firearms, as well as explosions from grenades.
Given that, a simple crossbow shouldn't be able to pierce magical defenses.
Yet Hagrid always carried one.
Was there some kind of magic-breaking property to it?
"For creatures, a crossbow works well," Hagrid continued. "But against poachers, it's more for show. They can block the arrows easy enough."
Hagrid wasn't particularly worried about poachers, though.
First of all, he had plenty of "pets" that were friendly to him but lethal to others. He also had a strong alliance with the centaurs, who would support him if needed.
His job wasn't necessarily to defeat intruders but to delay them long enough for reinforcements to arrive. With his natural resistance to magic and the immense strength inherited from his giant blood, he could do that just fine.
David nodded, filing the information away.
So there was no material with magic-breaking properties in this world—he had been overthinking it.
That said, firearms could still be a real threat to wizards. Not everyone was skilled enough to use Shield Charms effectively, and a well-placed bullet could be deadly.
"Look—Mooncalves!"
Hagrid suddenly pulled David to a stop and pointed toward a small clearing.
David followed his gaze and spotted several strange, llama-like creatures with large, round eyes.
They were standing in the moonlight, heads tilted toward the sky, their hind legs twitching as they danced.
It was… oddly adorable.
"Yer lucky," Hagrid whispered. "Mooncalves only come out on a full moon, and they're real shy. They'll disappear if they hear noise."
David watched in fascination.
Then, something caught his eye. Tiny, silvery-white spots scattered across the ground.
"What's that?"
"Mooncalf dung," Hagrid said cheerfully. "Fantastic fertilizer. Makes pumpkins grow enormous. I give some to Professor Sprout now and then."
David suddenly felt less enchanted.
Dancing and pooping at the same time? These creatures were bizarre.
As time passed, more silver light dotted the ground, creating a shimmering stage beneath the Mooncalves' feet.
After their dance ended, the creatures scurried back to their burrows.
Hagrid sighed happily. "That was a fine show."
Then he clapped his hands together.
"Right, let's collect the dung before the sun rises. It loses its magic when daylight hits it."
David groaned but helped.
He used Transfiguration to turn a pile of sticks into a wooden crate, then cast a Levitation Charm to gather the glowing droppings. Much easier than picking them up by hand.
Hagrid beamed. "That's the way, David!"
After a couple of hours patrolling, it was time to head back.
Holding the now-full crate of Mooncalf dung, Hagrid grinned. "That's enough for tonight. Let's get you back to Hogwarts."
David nodded, relieved.
One night down. Who knew what the next patrol would bring?
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