They all started waking up again when the sky was already darkening, and they had very little time to kill before another lavish feast was splayed out once more, and they had their dinner.
Moxxie hid the cloak in their room as best he could: for some reason, he wasn't too keen on anyone knowing he had it, not even Loona and Blitzo.
Leaving it behind made him uneasy - he was sure that something like that was worth a whole lot, and he didn't know who might come snooping into their rooms.
But he didn't have much of a choice on the matter. So, full and well-rested, they all took to lounging around the room just as they had done that afternoon, but now in a far better mood.
Even Loona seemed calmer in her phone-less state, even though her leg trembled and she kept tapping things rapidly with her fingers like a blind pianist.
Blitzo seemed particularly restless, and he kept talking about how much he craved some alcohol.
At some point, well into the evening, they had all taken to playing some stupid game that they all hated but at least kept them occupied.
Blitzo somehow managed to cheat, of course, even though it was almost impossible, and Millie was about to punch him in the face when a sudden knock came at the door and cut their charades short.
They all perked up at that, Blitzo more than any of them, being the most restless and also the one about to receive a beating from Millie. Besides, he kept clutching at his pig's tail, checking to see if it was still there or if, by some miracle, it had suddenly disappeared. He had been the object of teasing the whole evening.
Moxxie shot up from where he had been sitting and immediately opened the door to see the massive man from before, Hagrid, occupying the entire doorframe.
He started a bit at seeing Harry in his Imp form, but somehow he recognized him and didn't seem all that phased by it. "Hiya there, Harry. You lot ready?" They all went scrambling to the door and followed Hagrid.
Hagrid proved to be probably the funniest tour guide that they could've asked for. Dumbledore would've been too cryptic, McGonagall too boring, and anybody else just would've made it awkward.
But Hagrid had such an ease with them, like they weren't Hell dwellers, just some weird tourists.
He told funny and pretty wholesome anecdotes of the castle instead of talking about architecture, history, or other boring things that would've sent them straight to bed. "Did you study here?" Moxxie asked.
Hagrid stiffened a little bit. "For a bit," he replied but didn't mind elaborating, changing the subject almost immediately.
They weren't about to judge him, anyway.
It wasn't like Hell had a proper education system. And if it had, they probably would've dropped out. So instead, Hagrid led them through most of the floors (save for the restricted areas), and they all took their time ogling at their magnificent surroundings.
He took them to the Great Hall, where they had entered, which was now completely vacant, the sky in the ceiling tranquil and still; he led them to some classrooms and even to the astronomy tower, which proved to be a most fascinating and wondrous place.
The whole castle seemed imbedded in magic and beauty, down the last, mundane stone.
Moxxie felt a little bit less antipathetic towards magic - certainly, he'd seen more negative consequences to it. Still, he thought of the beauty of the castle, the sudden food appearing at the table, and he questioned whether he hadn't been a little unfair to it.
He might yet learn to harness it as he should, and he wouldn't be like Snape, who most likely used his magic for evil.
Or Voldemort. Finally, they left the castle and turned to what Hagrid called a 'Quidditch field.' He faced innumerable questions about what Quidditch was, how it was played, and, on numerous occasions, whether he was joking. He took these as light slights. "Why," he would say, "Quidditch is an ancient sport. Ancient.
Everyone knows that," he spouted as if forgetting that they were literally from Hell.
At some point, they had to wonder whether he knew their true origin and how much Dumbledore had actually revealed.
Did the old man plan on keeping it a secret? Maybe he could keep it from a well-meaning, well-disposed man like Hagrid, but what about that authoritative guy that they had met the other night?
He didn't seem to respond to Dumbledore's whims like the others, and that gave them a feeling that he worked for someone else.
What was more, Hagrid seemed to become uncomfortable when they mentioned something personal about themselves and avoided asking them questions at all costs, like he might be afraid of their answers or knowing more than he was supposed to.
In the cold night air, standing in the middle of the Quidditch field, Blitzo suddenly huffed. "So, you gonna play with us, or what?" "Oh, no, I'm no good at Quidditch. Just topple off my broom," he chuckled. "'Sides, none of you knows how to fly, that right?" They all fell silent at that.
Who in the hell knew how to fly? Hagrid shook his head. "Maybe I'll see about sneaking you lot into a match," he said to lighten the mood, and they all perked up at the prospect.
It seemed that, with their fascinating surroundings and Hagrid's good disposition, they had all forgotten how badly they wanted to be back home and really wanted to know more about the wizarding world, as crazy as it was. "Can't we even see the balls?" Loona asked timidly. "Wow, Loona, your dad is right next to you," Blitzo told her. "Ugh," she rolled her eyes at him.
Hagrid explained to them that he couldn't bring out the Quidditch balls without setting some loose and getting wild, so aside from the massive stands and the weird setting of the Quidditch field, the likes of which they had never seen before, there wasn't much to do there.
They followed Hagrid elsewhere. Blitzo seemed to take to Hagrid quite well since Hagrid, along with Dumbledore, appeared hard to offend. "So, why are you so goddamn huge, Hagrid?" That could've been an invasive and inappropriate question, but Hagrid took it with a laugh as they walked through the Quidditch field and beyond.
The castle grounds were pretty and all, but they did require an irritating amount of walking. "Well, I come from a line of giants," was his prompt and cheery reply. "No shit, giants are real?" Hagrid puffed. "'Course they're real, you're seeing one of their descendants," he answered. "Well, I'll believe you on that.
You know, you'd do well in the porn business, a grizzly like you." "The what?" "Anyway," Blitzo said, rubbing his hands and ignoring Hagrid's question. "How much alcohol does it take to get a big man like you drunk?" He asked interestedly.
Hagrid let out a curt laugh. "Well, a whole lot," he answered naively. "Why don't we try it?" Again, another chuckle. "You can try. We're heading for my cabin now. You lot have never tried Fire Whiskey, have you? But, wait," he suddenly paused, looking down at them seriously. "Are you lot minors?"
There was a pause before anyone replied, and then they collectively burst into laughter.
Hagrid blushed deeper and didn't dare ask again, even though no one had actually responded. "So, Fire Whiskey," Blitzo finally said, licking his lips. "You have to share." "I've got some," Hagrid said, looking like a kid who had suddenly been landed in the cool crowd.
Even though he was massive. "You're not afraid of dogs, are you?" "You're kidding," Loona cut in, crossing her arms. "Err, right, sorry," he laughed together with him, this time, adapting to their sense of humor quite well.
It turned out that Hagrid's cabin was just at the limit to some intense, potentially scary woods.
Just looking at them gave Moxxie the creeps, but Hagrid's cabin was like a beacon, lit up golden from the inside, defying the darkness that seemed to be creeping in from the outside.
They were greeted by a humongous, rather lazy dog that Hagrid affectionately called Fang, and the home turned out to be quite small for such a large man.
Inside, it felt rather crowded with the five of them, but it was hot and cozy and made for the first real and homey atmosphere that they had felt for the past few days. "You know, I like you, Hagrid," Blitzo declared as they entered. "You're not pretentious like the other dickheads we've met so far." "Who do you mean?" "McGonagall," said Blitzo bitterly. "Dumbledore," said Millie shyly. "Moody," said Loona with a shiver. "Snape," Moxxie cut in, thinking of how he had lifted him up in the air without a care in the world. Surely that couldn't be legal.
Was there any limit to what a wizard could do to another? "Well, I'll tell you one thing," Hagrid said, taking off his coat and feeding a log to his tiny fireplace. "All of them are Dumbledore's professors, chosen specially by him. So ain't no way they're bad.
But Snape…" he said, looking at Moxxie. "I understand not liking him," he said, coughing. "So!" Blitzo interrupted. "Where's that Fire Whiskey?"
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The Fire Whiskey proved to be even stronger than the things that they had in Hell. Part of the reason was probably that it wasn't watered down with piss.
It was an hour in, all of them taking shot after shot of the Fire Whiskey and listening to Hagrid's long and not uninteresting story as a Gamekeeper. He told them of all the wild animals that he had had in his possession, animals that they had only heard of in mythology or didn't even know existed at all.
Hagrid was easy-going and generous, and they all liked him well for it, keeping the bullying at a minimum, knowing that it wasn't worth it to tease a guy who didn't even know you were doing it.
Blitzo and Hagrid smacked each other (but they all got the distinct sense that Hagrid went easy on Blitzo), daring one another to drink more and more.
Millie and Loona keep up a good pace with them, though Loona is doing it more discreetly even under Blitzo's drunk yet watchful eye.
Moxxie, however, restrained himself from drinking too much since he couldn't keep Moody out of his head and the fact that he was supposed to meet him at the staircase at midnight.
Not even knowing what time it was put him uneasy, and he didn't feel like making Moody wait or getting on bad terms with him.
There was something about Moody that frightened him quite a bit, and the last thing he wanted to do was upset him or have him angry.
So he discreetly drank one shot per every five that everybody else drank, trying to make sure that no one caught him lacking, and observed as they all got wasted out of their asses.
He felt Hagrid's careful eye on him at certain moments, sneaking looks in his direction as the night wore on, and Moxxie had the feeling that it wasn't because of the drinking.
It couldn't have been more than two or three hours in before most of them had collapsed.
Millie had long since been snoring on Hagrid's sofa, and a while ago, Loona had occupied Hagrid's bed without even asking if she could.
Blitzo had his head plopped down on the table, completely unconscious after wanting to match Hagrid and finding he wasn't up to level.
He was drooling much like Fang was. The only two conscious people that remained were Hagrid and Moxxie.
Hagrid swayed a little where he stood, clearly drunk but still quite well because of how difficult it was to knock him out, and though Moxxie was a little tipsy, he was alert and awake, keenly aware of the late hour and what it might mean for his meeting with Moody.
He considered, at some point, that he was now playing a game that he hadn't even realized had started.
He hadn't told Millie about his meeting with Moody or the weird interaction he and Loona had had with the kids in the hallway.
For some reason, he kept those things to himself and felt he had to.
He felt that the whole situation kept adding more and more layers that he couldn't even explain to himself, but which were clearly there, and even now, he found himself working an angle that he hadn't previously thought of.
It was clear that Hagrid and Dumbledore were close - but just how close? From how he talked about him, it seemed that Hagrid would trust Dumbledore with his life wholeheartedly, so Moxxie thought maybe the sweet oaf might know some things, some things that Dumbledore would not answer or might want to conceal.
But just before he could ask Hagrid his first question, the man spoke. "I took you from Lily and James' house that night… in a basket.
Wee little thing you were," the man said, looking like he was close to tears. "I always had faith in ye, Harry, always." Moxxie gulped hard. He wasn't the person that Hagrid thought he was, of that he was sure, but his words had a lot of weight to them.
Just how exactly did this wizarding world perceive him? It was crazy to him that everyone here seemed to know his name, his story, even when he didn't.
A stranger on the street probably knew more about him than he did. "Hagrid," he began, "I don't understand. Why does everyone here know me?
What do they want from me?" He asked, half out of despair.
He never would've posed a question like that to Dumbledore, but he didn't understand what his position meant, what he was to people, how they perceived him, and he was anxious to know. Hagrid started. "Why, you're the boy who lived.
The one to stand against… You-Know-Who." "What? You mean Voldemort?" Hagrid hushed him, clearly uncomfortable. "You shouldn't… shouldn't say his name," Hagrid said, rearranging himself and looking around as if someone might be hiding in the shadows.
After a moment, he took another swig of whiskey. "You're destined for greatness, Harry. The whole wizarding community… we've been lost without you. Waiting for you," he explained. "Some even thought you were dead!"
He said with great outrage. Moxxie snorted in his sleep. Hagrid shook his head. Then he leaned in closer to Moxxie. "You-Know-Who will rise to power again," he whispered as if afraid someone might overhear them. "And they expect me to… what? Fight him? I don't even know the guy," Moxxie hushed back, exasperated.
Everything that Hagrid was saying seemed unfair, even ridiculous. What the hell did he have to do with any of this? He had just had a murder attempt when he was a baby - nothing more.
There was nothing else to it, and yet these people expected him to turn up as some sort of savior? It made no sense.
He wanted to go back home. "It doesn't matter, Harry.
He knows who you are." That made Moxxie's blood run cold. He was silent for a moment, looking down at his half-empty glass. "Who's Sirius?" He suddenly asked. Once again, Hagrid looked taken aback. "Sirius Black?" He exclaimed, far louder than the tone he had adopted.
Moxxie hit his head against the table abruptly and then started snoring again. "I- well- how do you know about him?" Hagrid asked, exasperated.
Moxxie was about to explain, feeling the greatness of the situation begin to oppress him when he suddenly remembered Moody. "What time is it?" He asked with some urgency. Hagrid grumbled and got up from his chair.
After a moment, he produced a watch from a massive pocket in a coat. "Ten past midnight." "Shit," Moxxie muttered, getting up from his chair and darting to the door. "Where are you going?" Hagrid asked, alarmed. "I just- I need to do something. Don't worry.
If they wake up, just tell them to get back to the rooms," he said before rushing out the door.