HP: Redemption of The Platinum Boy

Chapter 131: The Debate on Giants

In early January, with the end of the Christmas holidays, Hogwarts students were forced to pull themselves out of the excitement of the Yule Ball and refocus their attention on their heavy coursework.

On the first day of the new term, the grounds were covered with a thick layer of snow. A weary Draco Malfoy hurried along with a listless Crabbe and Goyle, trudging through the snow toward Hagrid's cabin.

"Merlin, please bless that professor with the peculiar taste in Care of Magical Creatures, please don't create anything terrible again! My heart, already weakened from staying up all night, can't take any more stimulation!" Draco said darkly, his face set with irritation. "And you two—there won't be a next time! If you don't do your homework ahead of time, I won't help you anymore!"

Crabbe and Goyle nodded obsequiously, not daring to say anything more.

Fortunately, instead of Hagrid—who often "surprised" the students—Professor Grubbly-Plank, a temporary substitute teacher with grey hair and a prominent chin, appeared before them, which eased Draco's irritability somewhat.

This serious teacher always knew what she was doing and what the syllabus was all about. At least today's lesson wouldn't face any unforeseen dangers.

Come to think of it, Hagrid had disappeared for a while in his previous life as well. What was the reason? What exaggerated report had Rita Skeeter written about him? He rubbed his temples, thinking wearily.

He'd stayed up all night in the common room helping Crabbe and Goyle finish their homework, only getting two hours of sleep. He'd woken up a little late in the morning and hadn't had time to read the Daily Prophet yet.

For most students, the lesson was not only safe but also interesting. Following Professor Grubbly-Plank's guidance, they went to the edge of the Forbidden Forest to observe a beautiful, large unicorn.

It was dazzlingly white, anxiously pawing at the mud with its golden hooves, its horned head raised. Its pure and innocent appearance drew exclamations of admiration from the girls.

"Boys, step back!" Professor Grubbly-Plank led the girls closer. She called out sternly, "Unicorns prefer to be approached by young women. Girls, stand in front—approach it carefully, come here, relax..."

Draco remained by the paddock fence with the other boys. He stood beside the massive Beauxbatons students, watching Hermione. He saw her curiously reach out, wanting to try and stroke the unicorn's mane... her eyes reflected the snow, and a simple, childlike smile played on her lips. His mood instantly improved, and a slight smile appeared on his lips.

"Draco, come with me," Harry tugged at him, pulling him to a corner by the paddock, and whispered, "You said Professor Snape was a Death Eater?"

Draco's expression changed, and he casually cast a few Muffliato charms to isolate their conversation from the outside world.

"You really need to be careful about who might be listening, Harry." Draco glanced around warily.

"Who's listening? You mean these huddled, shivering horses?" Harry asked impatiently.

"Of course, it's not just these horses," Draco said casually to Harry. "As for Professor Snape, it's no secret. Go ask Sirius—he probably knows about it too."

"He never told me that," Harry said heavily.

"Professor Snape was indeed a Death Eater, but he was saved by Professor Dumbledore. I think a wizard as great as Dumbledore probably wouldn't have misjudged him," Draco reassured him.

Although he said that, Draco was inwardly apprehensive.

In his previous life, Snape had killed Dumbledore, a mystery that had always lingered in Draco's mind. Now, four years into his rebirth, Draco had never given up secretly observing Professor Snape, yet he still couldn't fathom the reason behind his actions.

Professor Snape had even secretly protected Harry because he'd deeply loved Harry's mother. Although Professor Dumbledore sometimes acted in mysterious ways, he was by no means a gullible person—Barty Crouch Jr.'s fate proved this—not everyone could gain his protection and pity.

However, why had Dumbledore given Snape such great trust and a stable, respectable job?

How had Snape convinced Dumbledore to dispel his doubts about him? And why had he ultimately betrayed Dumbledore—was it simply because the Dark Lord had returned?

Was it reasonable for him to rejoin the Dark Lord and actively assist him in dealing with and even killing Harry—the boy he had been secretly protecting—without hesitation?

If Professor Snape wasn't suffering from some sort of split personality, then there must have been some clue he'd missed...

Draco frowned, letting the thoughts roll through his mind like marbles, but still no suitable marble went into the right hole.

"But Voldemort is getting stronger—" Harry said with deep doubt.

"Don't say that name! Harry, you know it's dangerous!" Draco corrected him patiently, trying to sound nonchalant. "In short, there's nothing we can do until we find him. I believe Professor Dumbledore has his own plans."

He hadn't seen Dumbledore and Sirius Black at the staff table for several days since the Yule Ball. They might have gone to the Gaunt shack to gather clues—hopefully, their luck would be better this time.

Draco suppressed his inner unease and said to Harry, "Don't worry too much about this. Do you know what you should be worried about right now? You should focus your energy on the clue in the golden egg, Hogwarts champion! The second task is starting in a little over a month, and your rivals have probably already figured it out! You need to prepare well."

"Well, what you're saying is exactly what Hermione says. She reminds me about this almost every day and always looks at me with a suspicious expression..." Harry said dismissively.

"Hermione's relentless urging for you to research the golden egg isn't because she doubts your abilities—it's because she's very worried about you," Draco said. "By the way, have you worked out the golden egg yet?"

"Of course, I will look into it, but it won't be that quick..." Harry muttered, seemingly unwilling to delve into the topic.

Draco gave him a meaningful look. Judging from Harry's unsettled appearance, he probably hadn't figured anything out.

Could this youngest and most controversial champion do something to bring honour to Hogwarts?

Since Sirius became a substitute teacher at Hogwarts, he could no longer openly instruct Harry. While representing a part of Hogwarts, he had to maintain a distance from the school's champions, a practice known as avoiding any appearance of favouritism.

To ensure the fairness of the Triwizard Tournament, "avoiding favouritism" had become a common attitude among all Hogwarts teachers. Of course, Draco believed that the headmasters of the other two schools might not be so scrupulous.

This meant that Harry's pool of potential helpers had become much smaller.

"Harry, for Merlin's sake, try Diggory's method, however much it sounds like a joke," Draco said. "Even though I don't like him much—"

Harry showed an expression of agreement.

Although reluctant, Draco changed the subject. "But you helped him before, didn't you? Maybe he really wants to repay you."

"If he really wanted to repay me, he should have been more explicit, instead of giving me advice that sounded worthless," Harry said, annoyed.

"He's being cautious. You know, as public figures, anyone could find a way to eavesdrop on you. You weren't caught last time just because you were lucky—looking back, it was a very flawed tactic," Draco said thoughtfully. "There are plenty of Invisibility Cloaks in the world besides the one you have. If someone else were wearing one and following you, would you notice? If someone could transform into an Animagus to confuse you, would you be able to detect them?"

Harry fell silent.

"Also, you need to learn to ask us for help," Draco reminded him. "I'd wager the headmasters of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons will do everything in their power, within the rules, to help their champions. There's nothing shameful about that. The Triwizard Tournament isn't just a battle between champions—it's also a contest of honour between schools."

"But—"

"I know what you're thinking. Harry Potter, who upholds the principles of fairness and justice, believes he should do things himself and that seeking help from friends is shameful. I suggest you stop carrying so much psychological burden on yourself." Draco ruthlessly punctured the facade Harry had painstakingly constructed in his mind. "This whole thing is inherently unfair. You weren't even on the same starting line as your opponents. They're older than you, they know more spells than you, and they have more experience casting spells than you—that's an undeniable fact."

Harry's face darkened.

Seeing his gloomy face, Draco softened his tone and forced a smile. "Harry, haven't you learned your lesson from the dragon task? Your opponents knew the details beforehand. Guess how they found out—by themselves? Can you imagine what you would have faced if you hadn't known all this beforehand with Sirius's help?"

"Yes, but I don't think it's the right thing to do. I shouldn't have talked so much about the golden egg with you—" Harry insisted.

"Then let's not talk about the golden egg. Just tell us what you need. What problem do you want solved? What spell do you want to practice? Just ask us. I'd wager Hermione's always ready to lend a hand—just say the word—" Draco glanced absently at the smiling witch stroking the unicorn for a moment, then turned back to speak seriously, "Harry, you need to understand one thing: we'll all do everything we can to help you. No one will laugh at you. We're willing to do anything for you—just ask."

Harry looked at him in surprise—he hadn't expected to receive Draco's support instead of blame—and smiled at him.

"All right. I'll think about it. I'll probably give that method a try." His expression suddenly relaxed. "Thank you, Draco."

Just then, a commotion erupted from the paddock fence where the boys were gathered, interrupting their conversation. They exchanged a glance, quietly went back, and found Ron holding a newspaper, quietly reading its contents with a shocked expression.

Draco immediately spotted the photo of Hagrid on the cover, looking furtive in the photo taken by Rita Skeeter's photographer.

"Hagrid was a large, menacing man who abused his newly acquired power by bringing in a series of terrifying animals to frighten the students under his care..."

In an interview with the Daily Prophet last month, he admitted to breeding an animal he named the "Blast-Ended Skrewt," a creature somewhere between a Manticore and a Crab, and one that was extremely dangerous. Soon after, serious accidents occurred involving the animal, and the school's Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Alastor Moody, was even admitted to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries to treat the severe injuries caused by the Blast-Ended Skrewts...

Unlike his usual disguise, Hagrid is not a pure-blood wizard... We can exclusively reveal that his mother is the giantess Fridwulfa, whose current whereabouts are unknown..."

Ron didn't read any further. The boys around him immediately fell silent.

"So what? So what if he's a half-giant?" Harry suddenly became furious—he was surprised by everyone's avoidance of the topic. "He's still our Care of Magical Creatures teacher—he doesn't have an extra eye or a missing ear, does he?"

"Harry, why do you think he didn't show up today? Is it because he's ill?" Draco said meaningfully, gazing at the small wooden cabin with its curtains tightly drawn in the distance. "Just watch—once his bloodline is questioned, the students' parents won't stand for it. I'd wager tonight Dumbledore's desk will be overflowing with owls sent by worried parents."

Harry was furious. He snatched the newspaper from Ron's hand and stared at every word of the article, trying to find something different. Ron, on the other hand, stared blankly with his mouth agape, saying nothing more.

Before the afternoon Arithmancy and Divination lessons, Draco was resting with his chin in his hand, eyes closed in his favourite window seat. Hermione suddenly blew into the seat next to him like a gust of wind.

"Rita Skeeter is really going too far!" She slammed the newspaper on the table and said indignantly to Draco.

Draco lazily opened his eyes, raised an eyebrow, and glanced at the newspaper—the same one Ron had read that morning.

"Although I don't like Rita Skeeter either, she didn't spread rumors in this particular report," he said casually.

"No lies?" Hermione puffed out her cheeks angrily. "She said he was huge and had a fierce appearance, and that he brought a bunch of scary animals to frighten the students he was in charge of! And what does she mean by 'abusing his newfound power'... and his 'strange behaviour' in Care of Magical Creatures?"

"Personally, I think his teaching ability has always been rather poor. Think back to Hagrid's lessons—has he actually imparted much knowledge to his students? Why not compare him to Professor Grubbly-Plank, the substitute teacher this morning?" Draco reminded her.

"That class was very good. I didn't know half of what Professor Grubbly-Plank told us about unicorns..." Hermione gradually regained her composure.

"Yet in Hagrid's class, you even help him mentor others, don't you? When has he ever systematically taught students solid knowledge? And how much time has he spent indulging his own personal interests?" Draco said with measured patience. "Think about those Blast-Ended Skrewts he bred. Do you really think they contributed anything to your education?"

"All right, Draco, I won't lie—the Blast-Ended Skrewts really aren't very useful." She stared at his arm, her voice trembling with anxiety. "Has that scar healed? The one the Skrewt gave you?"

"There's nothing seriously wrong," he said calmly.

"That's good. Ah, it's nice to have Professor Grubbly-Plank for Care of Magical Creatures once in a while—a change of pace." Hermione wrinkled her nose in annoyance, continuing to point at the Daily Prophet. "But I still think this paper goes too far. Look at this sentence: 'Giants are inherently cruel and bloodthirsty...' Hagrid has always been friendly to us—"

"Oh? Don't you think Hagrid's fondness for certain brutal creatures is a bit much?"

"I still can't understand his obsession with certain animals. But you have to admit he hasn't hurt anyone!" she argued.

"I'm not saying he's malicious. However, sometimes the harm isn't immediately apparent. I think he's irresponsible and careless, and not suited for a job like teaching that requires a sense of responsibility and rigour," he said bluntly.

"How could you say that?" Hermione frowned.

"Do you remember when he took it upon himself to raise a dragon in first year? You were just starting out in the wizarding world then, and perhaps you didn't understand what a fully grown dragon really meant. But now you do, don't you? You still vividly remember Harry's first task—do I need to elaborate on how dangerous dragons are? Could an ordinary wizard afford to keep one?"

Draco paused for a moment, and seeing Hermione nod reluctantly, he continued. "However, he disregarded the danger of hurting himself and others by keeping it without proper care, which was irresponsible toward the dragon itself. What's worse, he actually made you first-year students clean up his mess, causing you to lose fifty points, be miserable for weeks, and be ostracized by your fellow Housemates—have you forgotten all that?"

"Oh, Draco, let's not talk about the past!" Hermione said uneasily, unwilling to admit that Draco's words made some sense. "We were the ones who offered to help! Hagrid didn't ask us to do anything."

"That's what's so terrible about him. He makes a mess and then just cries, waiting for someone else to solve his problems, and then he drags down someone as responsible and kind as you." Draco said bluntly. "Personally, I sincerely hope he takes some time away. To be honest, he's better suited to just be the gamekeeper at Hogwarts."

"Draco, have some compassion!" Hermione said, somewhat annoyed. "I've always felt that you have a deep prejudice against Hagrid."

"This isn't prejudice, it's a fair assessment," he said coolly. "The truth is, he's good to you, but he's not a qualified teacher and can't shoulder the responsibilities that come with the role. He's consistently turned what should be an interesting subject into a farce, and if you hadn't been there to stop him, he'd probably have gone even further! Think of how many teaching suggestions you've given him since he took office—"

"All right, maybe you're right," Hermione quickly interrupted him. "However, what angers me isn't just her evaluation of Hagrid's teaching methods, but also her attack on his giant heritage!"

Draco sighed.

"Hermione, giants are very ferocious. It's in their nature to kill. That's common knowledge in the wizarding world. All pure-blood wizards talk about giants as if they've encountered a natural disaster. You must understand that they are different from us," he said seriously.

Something seemed to have stung the witch—Hermione suddenly let out a cold laugh.

"Pure-blood wizards don't just see giants as monsters. They view everything with prejudice, knowing nothing and unwilling to learn. Don't you see the kind heart beneath Hagrid's rugged exterior before arrogantly condemning him and categorizing him into social classes..." She revealed a mocking expression, her face tense. "You've always maintained a respectful distance from werewolves. When Professor Lupin resigned, didn't you secretly approve? And about house-elves—you were always sarcastic and never once supported me! Perhaps you think the same way about other groups in private... To be honest, your attitude isn't anything new, but it's a pity I only see it now... Always thinking you're superior, isn't that right?"

"Werewolves are indeed dangerous—you have to understand that... wait, what are you actually saying?" Draco suddenly realized, looking at her icy face, somewhat amused and exasperated. "Are we still discussing giants?"

"We've never just been talking about giants," Hermione said coldly, looking at the blackboard before her rather than the boy beside her.

"Hermione, don't do that—" he said, annoyed. "You're misinterpreting me."

But she seemed determined to stay angry. In the following lessons, she kept a straight face and didn't say another word to him.

Hermione felt that her recent emotions were very inexplicable.

She couldn't help but lash out at Draco because of Hagrid's problems, even though she knew that Hagrid's current situation was not Draco's fault.

Her irritability and anger toward Draco might stem from the fact that Draco's way of thinking was, at times, genuinely unreasonable.

That Slytherin-style calm analysis, while correct in its logic, was absolutely cold-blooded.

Hagrid—he had always been kind to her. Before, when she'd cried because of Draco, it was Hagrid who'd clumsily comforted her and cheered her up. He was like family to her, a warm and caring friend, not some cruel and bloodthirsty half-giant.

Draco neither understood Hagrid nor wanted to understand him.

She'd tried to persuade him to go to Hagrid's hut for tea with Harry and the others, but he'd never gone. He always slipped away like an eel, as if the hut were some kind of prison that bound his soul.

He was prejudiced against Hagrid from the very beginning!

That's it! He's incredibly prejudiced! He's no different from those pure-blood Slytherin supporters—he looks down on the underdogs: giants, werewolves, house-elves, and maybe even Muggle-born wizards! Hermione thought bitterly.

She was determined to prove Draco wrong and that good giants did exist! She made up her mind and diligently searched for information about giants in a corner of the library.

However, after spending a week consulting about thirty books, she still couldn't find a single good word to describe a giant.

She even went to discuss this with other children from wizarding families who should have been "open-minded," such as Ron.

Surprisingly, Ron also became anxious about the "giants," adopting an attitude of avoiding them at all costs, not much better than Draco's.

"Well... those who know Hagrid think it's fine because they know he's not dangerous," Ron said earnestly. "But giants are very vicious. It's in their nature. Hermione, they're born to kill—everyone knows that."

It was then that Hermione truly realized something. Despite the vast differences in their parents' ideologies, children from wizarding families were remarkably united on certain issues. They had far more in common with each other than with children of Muggle origin.

Those prejudices, misunderstandings, and dismissive attitudes toward giants—whether they were Malfoy or Weasley—were all the same.

This was disappointing.

Afterward, Hermione abandoned her plan to enlist the help of her friends and instead sought assistance from the library. Through extensive reading, more troubling truths about the giants were gradually revealed, turning Hermione's disappointment into despair.

All information related to giants was sending her the same signal:

They were inherently brutal and bloodthirsty, nearly extinct in the last century due to infighting. The remaining few had joined the forces of the Dark Lord, and during his reign of terror, they had perpetrated some of the most horrific Muggle massacres. Many giants who served the Dark Lord had died at the hands of Aurors fighting against him...

Hermione put down the last large book in her hand and sighed as she looked at the towering mountain of books on the table.

Draco was largely right about the giants—they were indeed exceptionally dangerous.

But Hagrid was an exception, and Hermione still couldn't forgive Draco's harsh judgment of him.

At the same time, the contemptuous look that the Slytherin boy inadvertently revealed—characteristic of pure-blood wizards—stung her heart.

This stinging sensation only intensified as her affection for him grew, because she couldn't accept that Draco could be a cold-blooded, arrogant, and prejudiced person.

What she found even more unacceptable was that Draco might one day, for similar reasons, give her a cold look—or even say the same hurtful things about her.