Carl sighed as he drove into the baking hot parking lot of the Walmart on a Thursday afternoon. The lot was packed with cars. He could see he was already going to have to park far away from the entrance.
Resigned to that fact, Carl drove straight to the back of the lot, instead of cruising up and down the parking lot hoping for someone to leave so he could take their spot.
The sweat rolled down his back and face and he walked towards the entrance in the height of the summer time heat. Carl internally groaned as he saw that there was a car just then leaving the spot next to the handicap parking.
'Of course, add insult to injury, why don't you.' Carl thought when he saw someone leaving the perfect spot just as he walked by. By the time he could relocate his car, the space would be taken, and the point was moot anyway, as he was already out of his air conditioning and walking in the blistering heat.
With a resigned shrug since he knew that fate or happenstance hated him, Carl soon entered the air conditioned interior of the mega store. Giving a polite nod to the greeter, he made his way to grab a shopping cart.
He had plans to join his friends this weekend on a trip up into the mountains where it was cool in summertime to spend some time fishing and he needed to stock up on supplies. Since they were leaving as soon as they were off work tomorrow, he needed to get everything tonight and pack it away in his ice chest.
So he began strolling up and down the aisles from one end of the grocery section to the other, picking up what he needed while dodging all the bratty kids that accompanied their mothers shopping.
After grabbing the last thing on his list, a pack of soda, he pushed his cart towards the checkout lines. Carl groaned internally again when he arrived. There were only three checkout lines open, and there were at least 21 people waiting, seven in each line. And half of them were family shoppers with carts heaped to the brim. This was going to take a while.
Carl picked the middle line, since it seemed like it would be the fastest line; the people in line had the least full baskets. Looking around to see that no other employees were coming to open lines despite calls of help from the cashiers over the intercom, Carl resigned himself to the wait. He pulled out his phone and started distracting himself with some internet browsing.
"Whoa! What is that?!"
Hearing some loud and excited shout from the aisle next to him, Carl looked up. In the direction that everyone was looking he saw something very strange. Floating about six feet in the air and about 8 feet from the line next to his was this glowing blue circle. It was only about the size of an Oreo cookie, but it was floating in air, unsupported and unmoving.
After gaping at the unknown floating item for a few moments while everyone bunched up in a crowd to look at the weird phenomenon, Carl almost absentmindedly opened the camera app on his phone and started recording it.
"What do you think that is?"
"I don't know."
"You think it's radioactive? It's glowing."
"Dunno. What color is radiation usually? Isn't it green?"
Carl glanced at the bystanders and saw that the mothers were clutching their children nervously, unsure if they should abandon their shopping carts and places in line because of the weird phenomenon. Some of the guys and gals that were alone were edging forward to get a closer look at the strange glowing circle. Many of them were filming it like Carl was.
"Dude, that is so cool! I bet it's a powerup!"
Carl looked to the side and saw one young guy getting closer to the blue glowing thing, and start reaching up for it.
"Hey, man, you probably shouldn't touch-" Carl suddenly choked on his words at the sight of the young guy's fingers being chopped off when he tried to grab the blue thing.
"Oh Fuck! My hand!" The young guy yelled as he clutched his wrist, blood spurting from where his fingers used to be, pooling on the floor.
More than a few expletives were heard from the surrounding people. The young man collapsed to his knees, clutching his hand in shock and pain.
"Come on, we're leaving!" A few women told their children as they gathered them up and ran off.
"What the hell is that thing!" Someone else exclaimed while continuing to film.
"Hey, man." Carl tapped a guy that was standing next to him. "Call 911 and get an ambulance here for him." When the guy Carl tapped looked at him, he ordered the dude. Seeing that the guy nodded and was getting ready to dial, he was satisfied that medical attention would arrive as soon as possible.
He pulled out the pack of paper towels from his shopping cart and tore open the plastic as he moved around the bystanders towards the guy who lost his fingers.
He carefully picked up the fingers and thumb and wrapped them up so they wouldn't just sit on the floor or get trampled. He then grabbed the man who was in shock and clutching his mangled hand by the shoulder to steady him. He pulled out a big wad of paper towels and wrapped up the bleeding hand. He then pulled out his belt and wrapped it around the guy's forearm, getting a bit of a tourniquet going.
Finally waking up a bit at Carl's actions, the man looked up at Carl.
"What are you doing?"
"I don't think we can put pressure on your whole hand to stop the bleeding, so I'm putting a tourniquet on your arm." Carl kept his voice calm and even so he didn't panic the guy unduly.
"But it's so tight!" The man complained, grimacing at the belt on his arm.
"Yeah, it needs to be, to stop the bleeding." Carl inspected the effect of the tourniquet. "Okay, it looks like we've stopped the bleeding, for the most part. We've got your fingers. Once you get to a hospital you can get them reattached. It might take some time, but you should get use of your hand back."
The idiot who got his fingers chopped off shakily nodded, seeming to have needed some hope that he wouldn't lose his fingers permanently.
"What's your name?" Carl asked, trying to get the guy to focus on him and not the wound.
"Mark. It's Mark." The man was definitely in panicky shock.
"I'm Carl. Now, it looks like most of the bleeding has stopped, for the most part. Let's go to the entrance to wait for the ambulance so you can get to the hospital soonest. Do you think you can walk, Mark?" Carl had another reason for moving the guy. He really didn't want to be hanging around just under the glowing blue thing that just sliced right through the fingers so easily just from the act of him closing his hand on it. That thing was sharp!
"I don't know. I feel kind of woozy." Mark answered.
"I'll help you walk." Carl said, putting his shoulder under Mark's arm that didn't have the fingers chopped off.
"Hey, the 911 people say the ambulance will be here soon." The guy that Carl ordered to call 911 earlier said just then.
"Okay, good. Hear that Mark? You'll soon have your ride to the hospital. Let's get you up now."
Carl then helped Mark stand, doing his best not to slip in the blood on the tile floor. He knew those floors could be slick when mopped, he didn't expect it would be any better when soaked in blood. They shakily stood and Carl supported Mark to start walking on his shaky legs.
"What the hell!"
"Look at that!"
Carl had just gotten a few steps away when he heard exclamations from the crowd. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that the Oreo sized blue glowing thing had expanded to be 4 feet in radius. The bottom of it was now only about 2 feet off the ground, and the top towered above them.
"Ignore it. Let's keep moving Mark." Carl urged the injured man that he was supporting who had frozen after he too looked at the new size of the glowing blue disc. He could see from Mark's expression that he now had just as big a fear of the portal as he had previously had excitement for it.
Unfortunately Mark didn't seem to be able to hear Carl's urgings as he stood there, frozen, despite Carl's attempts to get him moving again.
Fresh screaming from the crowd caused Carl to once more look back. The sight chilled his bones. The blue disc was now moving forward towards him at the pace of a slow walk.
The crowd members around began panicking and running away in all directions.
Unfortunately for Carl, Mark also freaked out. Letting out a high pitched scream that hurt Carl's eardrums, Mark pushed Carl away before running. Carl, off balance and not expecting the sudden shove, stepped to the side and tripped over a shopping basket someone had left on the ground.
Carl fell heavily to the ground, landing on his hand the wrong way. Pain shot up his wrist in a burst of agony. Gritting his teeth at the pain and furious anger at Mark for being a bastard, Carl began getting his feet under him.
Carl warily kept an eye on the blue disc, so he saw it began to speed up towards him. It was so close, he wasn't sure he could get away from it in time with all the shopping carts around him.
Suddenly a scene from an old comedy show called "Sledge Hammer!" flashed into Carl's mind. He had seen one particular scene as a kid, and it always stuck with him.
In the show, Detective Sledge Hammer had been investigating a murder and was closing in on the suspect. The suspect, desperate to escape being caught had gotten in a truck and tried to run over the detective who was in his way. The narrow street had cars on either side, trapping the detective in place for certain death by being run over.
But Sledge Hammer had seen that the vehicle was a lifted truck and had enough clearance space underneath. Sledge Hammer had then dropped prone to the ground, avoiding getting run over.
That scene and Sledge Hammer's explanation to his partner of how he lived from being ran over flashed in Carl's mind. Carl instantly dropped prone, with his feet laid on their sides so they weren't sticking up and his arms spread out on the ground.
The portal passed over his feet. He had enough clearance to be fine!
But then, to Carl's dismay, the glowing blue disc stopped when it was over his knees.
"Just what the hell is this thing?!" Carl frustratedly growled.
Carl reconsidered the situation. If it was paused, he could wriggle away from it. He started backing away from the weird thing so he could get his feet out from under it. He didn't think he could roll properly sideways away from it without slicing his legs on the blue disc.
As if Carl's motion had been a sign, the blue disc dropped down suddenly, slicing straight through Carl's legs.
Carl froze.
He stared, horrified at where his legs ended at the blue disc.
Blood began spurting out of his legs.
Yelling in anger, horror, despair, Carl began using his arms to push himself desperately back from the damned thing. Blood from his leg stumps spurted out, staining the floor as his efforts to move smeared the blood around.
The blue disc moved quickly forwards once more, very quickly this time. When it passed over Carl's body, it completely engulfed and swallowed Carl until nothing was left of him but a puddle of blood and his two legs, severed just below the knees.
After swallowing up Carl, the blue disc paused in place for a second, before winking out of existence.
Quiet fell upon the Walmart. The only evidence that anything had happened was the bloody scene left behind. Carl's two legs from the knees down were lying in a pool of blood, surrounding by abandoned groceries.
When the police showed up later, they isolated the scene and investigated. They interviewed people, watched the recordings from the people as well as the security footage of the store. The strange footage briefly made waves in the news and on the internet, but the hype died down soon enough.
In the end, the police couldn't do anything about the case, Carl was just gone. They filed a missing persons report on Carl since they had no body to declare him deceased. Carl was eventually declared legally deceased after a few years. The case file was buried deep in the archives that the archivist jokingly referred to as the X-Files.
Carl had been floating in darkness for a while now. He had no idea how long it had been, really, since that blue disc thing swallowed him up.
All the fear and terror of those few critical moments in the Walmart felt so long ago and far away.
At first, when he had found himself in the void, he had railed against his fate. He had been so very, very pissed at the panic and actions of freaking Mark. And all those other people who just ran like scared animals, no concern for anyone but themselves. At least he took Mark's fingers with him, so Mark was out of luck, the bastard!
He felt quite petty when he got over that phase. Hell, he didn't even know if the blue disc had stopped with him or if it hunted down Mark after that. He guessed it didn't really matter. It definitely didn't matter in the midst of the void he was currently in.
Then Carl had gotten mad at himself for a good while. He was so stupid! He should have just done what everyone else had done, and leave Mark to his fate. It wasn't up to him to figure things out and help someone else, especially when he was repaid so poorly with everyone's selfish behavior.
He should have been selfish too. Maybe then he wouldn't be floating in this damned void!
After a while, Carl had realized that being so angry wasn't useful either. He had acted according to his normal behavior and concern for other people. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing for him to act the way he had. If nobody acted like responsible citizens, then anarchy and chaos would reign supreme, and he wouldn't want to live in a society like that. Definitely wouldn't want to raise a family in an environment like that. Not that he had had a chance to have a family.
So, he finally got over being mad at himself for acting like a decent human being and losing out. He just wished things hadn't happened the way they did.
But damn, did he hate the void. He wished he could at least have an internet connection to distract himself from the all encompassing nothingness. Maybe some physical sensations? No?
He floated in the darkness, the absence of anything to distract himself, and wondered if he would ever get to experience something besides the void from now on.
He had heard, or read stories rather, of people being able to relive and sharpen their memories in situations like this, in depravation tanks. But he just didn't have that good of a memory, apparently. The void didn't do anything to focus and sharpen his memory, it seemed to be doing the opposite, actually.
He struggled to remember what sensations felt like. He struggled to remember what the important people in his life looked like. But it seemed to all be seeping away from him. And that worried him immensely.
There was nothing he could do about that either. He was…helpless.
But, eventually, he gave up worrying and fearing that he would forget everything. There was just nothing he could do about it. So, he just gave up and floated. Trying to hold on to the important things about his life and himself. And feeling like it was all slipping away.
Memories of faces, events, smells, tastes, and everything just continued slipping away, leaving nothing for him but the void.
And that's when he, how to describe it? Saw a light drawing near? Sensed a heat getting warmer? Smelled a scent getting more potent? The vibrations of an oncoming train rattling everything around him?
And then he heard the first word he had heard in who knows how long.
"Gryffindor!"
And suddenly, Carl had a body again.
Sensations exploded in his mind!
The feel of the cotton clothes rubbing against his skin. The pressure of a very small hard wood circular seat pressed into his bottom. The feel of a hat over his head. The air felt nice, just a hint of coolness! But after so long without sensation it felt amazing! He saw light through his eyelids!
Hell, he had eyelids once more! He had a body once more!
Opening his eyes, he saw a large hall filled with little kids. They were seated at four long tables that stretched directly away from him, or there were standing in line in the middle of the hall. Everyone was looking at him. It felt very uncomfortable to be the focus of so many stares.
He felt the hat being taken from his head.
The table to his far left, where a bunch of kids wearing black robes with red trim, were clapping and smiling and cheering.
The table next to them, with kids in yellow trim, had politely clapping kids, not as enthusiastic as the red trimmed kids.
The next table over, with the kids with blue trim, only had half of the kids politely clapping. The rest of them looked downright bored.
The kids at the table to his far right, where the kid's robes were trimmed in green, weren't clapping. Many of them were ignoring him, a bunch of them were sneering at him, as if he was the most disgusting thing they had seen.
He wasn't that ugly, surely?
"Go on, then, Mr. Hagrid, and join your classmates."
He heard a voice slightly above him to his right. He turned his head and saw a kindly looking middle aged man with a brown beard several inches long.
Carl stared blankly. What did this guy just call him?
"Mr. Hagrid, kindly go and join your fellow Gryffindors at the table so we can continue the sorting." The bearded fellow told him with a gentle smile, indicating the table to his far left.
"Okay." Carl numbly said, striving for all he could not to break down in tears to actually feel something again.
'Keep your cool, keep your cool.' He thought as he sought to stabilize his emotions.
He stood up. And up. He stood head and shoulders above the brown bearded man.
'Damn, I'm tall!' Carl thought as he stumped over to the table on his left that the brown-bearded man had indicated. The one where the kids had clapped the most for him, up until he sat there like a stump on the stool, anyway.
As he was making his way over, towering over the students at their seats, he could hear plenty of whispering about him.
"Merlin, did you see him sit there like an idiot?"
"Well, obviously it's because of his brute nature. It's obvious he has some kind of creature blood, or else he wouldn't be so tall, would he?"
"Why they let someone so stupid attend Hogwarts is beyond me."
"Well, he'll fail out this year and we won't have to see him anymore after that."
Carl carefully sat in an open space that the kids already at the table pointed him to, barely wedging himself in, and proceeded to try to figure out just what was going on. It had been a while since he actually thought about stuff, instead of just floating around that he was feeling a bit rusty about it.
He didn't even get angry at the nasty things the kids said about him. It wasn't even worth it, in his mind. Get mad at a bunch of socially inept kids? Better use of time to figure out what was going on, now that he suddenly had a body once more and could think again.
The brown bearded man had a list in hand, and was calling up the other kids to sit on a stool one at a time and putting a talking hat on their head.
'Damn, look at the tiny kids. If I'm the same age as them, and I'm already this tall, it's no wonder the kids are saying things about me. The nail that sticks out gets pounded in, and the kid that sticks out gets mocked.' Carl thought.
As Carl sat there, something in the back of his mind began coming forward. He almost caught it. Just a little bit more.
'Gryffindor. Hufflepuff. Ravenclaw. Slytherin. Hogwarts.'
The thought solidified.
'Holy Shit! I'm at Hogwarts!' Carl sat there, stumped, flabbergasted, and bamboozled. He was in a fictional world. At a magic school.
'Wait, what did the brown bearded guy call me? Mr. Hagrid? Mr….Rubeus Hagrid.'
And with that realization, that he now occupied the body of one Rubeus Hagrid, memories began flooding his mind. Eleven years of memories of growing up as an unusually large boy with his unusually small father that was a wizard.
He remembered seeing his giantess mother that towered above them.
'Seriously, how did a four and a half foot tall man mate with a 25 foot tall giant?!' Carl thought as he watched scenes of the family of three interacting before he was three years old. 'Well, that's magic for you, I guess.'
And his mother left them behind when he was about three years old. Carl felt all the emotions that little Rubeus felt when his "momma" left them behind. Watching/experiencing the emotions of baby Rubeus, he could feel the distress he felt when his mother left, and he saw how hard his father, Raeburn Hagrid, took it.
Which was not at all hard. The man was totally fine with it.
From what Carl saw in the memories, his father only felt bad about Fridwulfa the giantess leaving because his son was upset about it. With a more experienced eye that young Rubeus didn't have, Carl saw that his father was actually quite a mad little wizard with a plan.
Things that Rubeus saw but didn't understand, or ignored, led Carl to believe that his father actually mated with a giantess because he despised his own small stature. He could only guess that something in his past caused Raeburn to absolutely hate being short. And so like a true mad wizard, he hatched a plan to have a very tall son to live vicariously through.
Mate with a giant, that'll give him a tall son.
And it worked. Little Rubeus, when he was born, was as tall as his father at four and a half feet.
By the time little Rubeus was six years old, he was already six feet tall and could pick up his father and put him up on the cupboards when he got too pushy about eating vegetables that Rubeus didn't like, or forcing him to learn reading and 'riting and 'rythmatic.
And that was another thing about little Rubeus. He was very strong for his size and quite a bit magic resistant. His father was a wizard, but had a hard time using spells to control Rubeus. He had to cajole and bribe him to get him to do things he didn't want to do.
Looking through the memories, Carl found out that young Rubeus was born in the West Country of England. He wasn't sure exactly where he was born, since he didn't get a muggle birth certificate or anything.
'Imagine having Fridwulfa going to a muggle hospital or calling in a midwife. Hilarious!'
But he knew that young Rubeus grew up about a mile south of a small village called Lydbrook just outside the Forest of Dean. They had a magic house like the Weasley's burrow and everything.
And the Forest of Dean was Hagrid's stomping grounds growing up. Anytime he wanted to escape the reading and writing lessons his father cajoled him into, he would wander around the forest for hours at a time.
He would oftentimes catch game, rabbits and pheasants and the like, for his father to cook up for dinner. He liked meat.
And in his memories, he watched as his father Raeburn had been ecstatic that Rubeus had gotten a letter to Hogwarts when he turned 11 on the 6th of December 1939. Obviously his father hadn't been sure if Rubeus would be considered a wizard, having been half giant. It's not like there were a lot of them around in the wizarding world, the creature and blood purity stigma being what it was.
At least that's what Carl was assuming based on his impressions of the world of Harry Potter that he found himself in, based on what he'd read about it in his past 's not like Rubeus spent time reading the paper and gathering information about the culture norms of the wizarding world, after all. The kid liked to be doing things and wandering the forest, rather than spending his time on reading and scholarly works.
Carl had just finished watching/experiencing the trip to Diagon Alley, which looked very similar to what was described during Harry Potter's time, as well as his lonely trip in an empty compartment on the train, when the sorting was finished. He had caught up on his body's memories just in time for the announcements.
The white haired old man sitting on the throne-like seat of the Headmaster stood up.
"Welcome back to Hogwarts for another year. And greetings to our newcomers. Just a couple announcements to new and returning students before the feast begins. There will be no using magic in the halls on pain of corporeal punishment. Don't test me on this. Stay out of the forbidden forest, the Centaurs will have their way with you if you don't heed this warning, and what's left of you will suffer further punishment for rule breaking in the dungeons. Let's eat." The old man sat back down.
The food appeared on the table, greatly tempting Carl. He was more than pleased to be able to feel hunger again, but it was better to assuage that hunger. He didn't stand on ceremony and began piling his plate with all the delicious looking food around him.
Baked and quartered herb smothered chicken. Piles of buttery potatoes. Roasts, lamb, and even a large pile of vegetables found its way down his gullet.
'Sooooo goooood! Delicious!'
"Whoa, you got an appetite to match your size, don' cha?"
Carl looked over to his right and down to see another firsty smiling up at him in amusement.
"Yup. Gotta eat a lot to keep my energy up." Carl smiled genially back down at the boy. "The name's Rubeus Hagrid, sorry I didn't catch yours?"
"Eugene Longbottom." The little firsty replied.
"Nice to meet ya." Carl said before grabbing up some more food without slowing down. He was pretty sure this feast had an end time, since it was up to the teachers, and he wanted to make sure he got his fill before it ended. It had been a long, long time since he last ate.
"Good to meet you, too." Eugene replied, and started talking with another boy next to him that was named Charlus when he saw that Carl was too busy stuffing his face to talk properly.
Which was good, because Carl was big at seven and a half feet tall. He was already two inches taller than Andre the Giant. While Andre wasn't the tallest man on record in his last life, last world, whatever; Andre was up there and was very muscular and athletic. Which is why Carl couldn't help but think of him now that he was a very tall boy that was bound to get taller.
From what his father had gleefully measured of his height every year on his birthday, he was easily growing three inches every year, which is how he was now seven and a half feet tall.
After some time, while he was still eating, Carl became aware of the fact that everyone was staring at him. Darting his eyes around without turning his head or stopping, he saw that he was the last one still eating. He was apparently making a spectacle of himself, judging by the whispers, despite the fact that he was being quite clean and courteous in his table manners.
He just rolled his eyes at the nasty things some of the kids were saying. He wasn't going to stop eating until he was full or they took away his food.
'Peer pressure from a bunch of brats doesn't work on someone who lived in the void for so long!' Carl spitefully thought in criticism for said brat's ill manners.
Before Carl could actually finish eating his fill, the food was taken away. He pouted a bit seeing the last of it disappear.
"Yes, now that we are all quite done." The white bearded headmaster said rather pointedly with a look his way, causing Carl to almost roll his eyes. Almost. "It's time to sing the school song."
And out of nowhere, some music started playing, while the words to the song appeared in the air above the teachers. Carl followed along and muttered the words. He was never much of a singer in his past life, and didn't want to belt it out here.
Apparently the individual tempo and tunes that Dumbledore allowed the school song to become in his time as Headmaster didn't fly here in the time of Dippet. Everyone stuck to the music and sang the song properly. The way it was supposed to be done.
Carl was beginning to wonder if part of Dumbledore's overly permissiveness while he was Headmaster was because of what he had to deal with from Dippet and those old school professors.
'Dippet did talk about corporeal punishment. And wasn't it a thing that Filch said they used to be able to clap students in chains and whip em? Molly did say that Arthur was caned so hard at one point he still had the marks. So…Dumbledore was the wizarding equivalent of a Hippy? That could explain his robes later in life.'
Right now Dumbledore wore a decent pair of black robes. But Carl guessed the moment Dippet was out and he was in, he would start getting flamboyant.
'Huh, now that I think about it, ever since I got myself a body, my memory has been returning to me in more and more clarity. I can start remembering quite a bit that seemed lost to me in the void.' Carl thought in surprise as the song came to a close.
Once the song was sung, and they were released, Carl saw the older years dispersing first. There was one male and one female fifth year left behind with their prefect badges that began slowly guiding them up to the tower.
Carl paid attention to what they were saying as they were pointing out the various parts of the castle as they climbed the stairs.
"Over there is the way down to the potions classroom in the dungeons. Over there is the DADA classroom. Watch out for this trick stair, your foot will sink in and you'll need help getting out. This particular main staircase moves every fifteen minutes. Be sure to note the time that it moves, because if you have to wait for it to move back, you'll likely be late to class and be docked points and earn a detention."
And wasn't that an interesting experience for a tour. A crazy shifting, confusing, but above all magical castle. With moving and talking portraits, armored suits and weapons standing in alcoves, passages and hallways that didn't obey the right angle rules, and enormous vaulted spaces everywhere throughout.
It was amazing.
When they arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady that was the entrance to the Gryffindor common room, all the rest of the years of students had already entered. The male and female prefects stopped in front of the entrance and faced the groups of small little firsties and Carl, who stood in the back and loomed over everyone.
'Well, I suppose I need to start thinking of myself as Rubeus Hagrid now.' He thought as he dragged his attention to the two prefects as they began talking to the group of eight first years.
"My name is Jules Prewitt, and this is Rachel Weasley. We're the ones you lot will come to when you have questions. The entrance to the Gryffindor common room is through this portrait." Jules Prewitt briskly explained.
"It requires a password to enter. If you forget the password, you'll have to hope someone comes by, or go see our head of house, Professor Dumbledore to gain entrance. The current password is Cockroach Clusters." Rachel Weasley finished with a grimace at the choice of password.
"Professor Dumbledore is our head of house, and he seems to like making our passwords the names of snacks or sweets. He seems to think it'll help us kids remember the password if it's something we like to eat." Jules shrugged in a 'what can you do' way.
As they filed in, Carl wondered if that was just another symptom of Professor Dumbledore infantilizing the students.
'I mean, everyone is striving to grow up and become an adult at this age. And Dumbledore seems to want to coddle kids and hold them back and make them enjoy their childhood. Ah, well. It's all guesswork.' Carl chuckled in his head.
Something he had noticed ever since he entered, possessed, took ownership of this body. His memory and thought process was actually much better than he remembered it being in his past life. He was remembering everything he saw with crystal clarity, easily.
He wondered if it was a function of having a body that made his mind sharper and better able to think. Or if it was the presence of magic. Maybe it was that he had merged with a second soul, that of Rubeus Hagrid, that improved his mental condition so much?
'Well, more questions that have no answers.' Carl returned his attention to the prefects as they started talking.
"And here we are, the common room. Curfew is at nine, so be in the common room by that time. Breakfast is at eight in the morning. If everyone will meet down here at quarter till eight in the morning, we'll take you down to the great hall so you don't get lost." Rachel continued the introduction to Hogwarts speech.
"You see two sets of stairs over here?" Jules grabbed their attention. "Boys are on the left, girls are on the right. Boys aren't allowed up in the girl's dorm. An alarm will sound if you try, and you'll receive punishment. Now come on boys, I'll show you your dorm."
Carl and the three other boys followed Jules up the stairs on the left while Rachel brought the girls up to their dorm on the right. They went up one floor and found the door. Inside there was one massive bed and three normal sized beds.
"Ha! Don't have to guess which bed is yours, Rubeus." Eugene said in good humor.
Rubeus took two steps over to the nearest normal sized bed.
"Yup, it's this one." He laughed out as he patted one of the posts, causing it to shiver violently.
"Nooo! That one's mine!" The boy who was the owner of the bed yelled out. Rubeus hadn't caught his name at the feast, but his name printed on his trunk at the foot of his bed, Aaron Bell.
"Only kidding there, Aaron." Carl chuckled as he stepped over to his very large bed. Aaron gave a huge sigh of relief while Charlus and Eugene cracked up laughing. "I'm just as relieved as you are, believe me. You would not believe how uncomfortable it is sleeping on a bed too small for you."
"Yeah, I imagine so." Aaron sheepishly said.
"Yeah, whenever my dad says something my mom doesn't like, he ends up sleeping on the couch. Very uncomfortable." Charlus said with a shake of his head. "I asked him why he didn't just transfigure something more comfortable one time. He just said if he did so, mum wouldn't have thought he suffered enough and the punishment would have lasted three times as long before he could get back in her bed."
Rubeus chuckled at that. He wasn't sure if the eleven year olds here really understood the full meaning behind that, but whatever. They would one day. Opening up his big trunk, he saw that it had expansion charms on it to make it much larger inside. Which was a good thing, since his things were just so big they wouldn't have fit in a normal trunk.
He had a memory of visiting the cheaper robe shop called Weavers in a side Alley off of Diagon and getting several sets of clothes made for him that would grow with him for the next couple years. So he was set there.
He pulled out his sleep wear, took a shower, and got ready for bed. Crouching down a bit to look in the mirror, he sighed at his crazy and fly away brown hair. It was easily down to his shoulders. And the old Rubeus didn't have anything to tie up his hair. He would have to get some kind of bands to fix that. Unlike the original, he didn't want to leave his hair all loose like that, it was too annoying and in the way.
He was satisfied with his features, though. While he wasn't handsome by any stretch of the imagination, he at least wasn't ugly, dumb looking, or beastly in anyway. It would do. Just looking like a normal, very tall, but normal looking bloke was good enough.
Getting into his massive bed that fit just right felt quite comfortable. He was pleased.
The three boys and one dimensional traveler continued chatting for a bit before their fatigue caught up to them, and they went to sleep.