Adrian and Hagrid were continuing their idle chat about various magical creatures and holiday preparations, enjoying the peaceful autumn afternoon, when they suddenly noticed something unusual approaching across the grounds.
A large group of people was marching toward the cabin.
Adrian squinted against the sun and looked more closely at the approaching group, shading his eyes with one hand. He could make out that Dumbledore and Umbridge were leading at the front, walking side by side though maintaining a noticeable distance between them.
Following behind them were seven or eight unfamiliar faces—wizards and witches Adrian didn't immediately recognize from the Hogwarts staff or his usual contacts.
When the group finally drew near enough, close enough that faces became clear, Hagrid stepped forward.
"Professor Dumbledore," He called out in his booming voice, his eyes moving from Dumbledore to Umbridge to the unfamiliar looking officials with concern, "what's going on here? What's all this about?"
His tone carried worry and confusion.
"These are representatives from the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures," Dumbledore's answer came as brief. He gestured vaguely toward the group behind him. "Along with several Aurors from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for security purposes. They're here to handle matters concerning the Treants living in the Forbidden Forest."
'The Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures?'
Hagrid's face immediately darkened at these words. His eyebrows drew together in a fierce scowl, and he immediately stepped forward defensively, his massive body straightened to its full intimidating height as he prepared to defend creatures he considered friends.
"Treants?" He said in his gruff, emotional voice, gesturing with one huge hand. "Those are lovely little creatures! Gentle as anything! They've never harmed anyone! They've even helped students who've gotten lost in the forest! Why would you want to—"
"That's not necessarily true," Umbridge interrupted sharply, cutting across Hagrid's passionate defense with a dismissive wave of her hand.
Her toad-like face wore a cold smile. "The creatures have demonstrated violent tendencies and attacked Ministry personnel."
She was clearly referring to her own humiliating incident, though she didn't specify the details in front of this audience.
At this critical point, before Hagrid could launch into another emotional defense that would likely only make things worse, Adrian stepped forward smoothly and asked.
"May I ask specifically what you plan to do with the Treants?"
Upon hearing this question, Umbridge's smile shifted and became notably smugger and more self-satisfied. Her small eyes gleamed with triumph.
"That depends entirely on whether they choose to cooperate with Ministry authority," She said with false sweetness.
Hagrid blinked in confusion, his huge face showing he didn't quite understand what she meant by this. "What do you mean by 'cooperate'? Cooperate with what exactly?"
Umbridge smoothed down her garish pink cardigan with both hands, and when she spoke again, and spoke in a dangerous tone.
"I mean, if they refuse to cooperate with the Ministry's management, then I'm afraid this won't be a friendly meeting or pleasant negotiation."
"Hmm..." Adrian fell into silence for a long moment. Then he said with perfect politeness that somehow managed to sound almost mocking, "Good luck to you all, then. I suspect you'll need it."
"No," Dumbledore suddenly interjected, reaching out to pat Adrian firmly on the shoulder with one hand. "I'm afraid you'll need to come with us as well, Adrian. You'll lead the way into the forest and facilitate introductions."
The headmaster's words left absolutely no room for refusal or negotiation.
Adrian studied Dumbledore's face for a moment, reading the concern and calculation there, then shrugged with apparent resignation and reluctantly agreed. "Very well, Professor. If you insist."
He understood what Dumbledore was doing—keeping him present as a restraining influence, someone who might prevent this situation from escalating into outright violence.
"It'll be fine, Hagrid," Adrian said reassuringly, turning to address the worried-looking half-giant before departing. He gave Hagrid a confident smile. "Don't worry yourself too much. I suspect things will work out differently than certain people expect."
His eyes flicked briefly toward Umbridge as he said this.
And so, Adrian joined the group and they all began heading together toward the dark tree line of the Forbidden Forest in the distance.
At the same time, as they moved across the grounds in their loose group, Adrian was genuinely surprised to discover that there was a familiar acquaintance among the Ministry officials—someone he hadn't expected to see here.
"Mr. Diggory," Adrian said with surprise, moving closer to walk alongside the wizard in question. "I didn't expect to see you here. What brings you on this particular expedition?"
That's right—this person was none other than Cedric Diggory's father, Amos Diggory.
Amos Diggory's face immediately showed embarrassment at being directly addressed. A flush crept up his neck. He adjusted his glasses with nervous fingers and explained in a low, almost apologetic voice that showed he wasn't proud of his current assignment.
"I'm now in charge of the Centaur Liaison Office at the Ministry," He said quietly, glancing around to make sure others weren't listening too closely. "Considering there's also a large centaur population living in the Forbidden Forest, and in case we need to communicate with them during this operation or if they become involved..."
His voice gradually trailed off awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable with this entire situation and his role in it.
Adrian nodded with understanding and sympathy, keeping his voice equally low and private. "I see. Then I'll have to trouble you to do your best in a difficult situation, Mr. Diggory."
Upon hearing these kind words, Amos Diggory looked even more embarrassed. His face flushed deeper red.
Seeing this reaction and not wanting to make the man feel worse, Adrian said nothing more on the subject and simply continued walking beside him.
In fact, Adrian understood well that the Centaur Liaison Office was widely considered something of a joke within the Ministry of Magic—a dumping ground for officials who'd fallen out of favor or needed to be quietly sidelined.
This was because the proud centaurs had never once acknowledged the department's authority or legitimacy—it had been established unilaterally by the Ministry without any consultation or agreement with actual centaurs, and no centaur would ever pay the office or its officials any mind.
Being transferred to or initially appointed in this particular department was typically viewed as effectively the end of one's career prospects and advancement potential.
It seemed quite clear that Mr. Diggory hadn't been doing particularly well at the Ministry lately.
After a moment of walking in slightly awkward silence, Mr. Diggory moved closer to Adrian and lowered his voice even further, deliberately changing the subject.
"See that tall man near the back?" He asked softly, discreetly tilting his head to indicate direction without obviously pointing. "The big one with the stern expression? That's Walton MacNair, professional executioner for the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. He specializes in dealing with dangerous magical creatures."
He paused before adding in an even quieter whisper, "Some unfortunate creature at Hogwarts has really gotten on Umbridge's bad side, eh? MacNair doesn't usually come along unless someone important wants something definitively dealt with."
He gestured subtly, indicating a stern-faced, tall, exceptionally well-built man walking near the rear of their group.
"This fellow has quite a reputation—he's notorious throughout the Department for his particularly cruel methods and his apparent enjoyment of his work," Mr. Diggory continued with obvious revulsion. "Umbridge specifically requested him for this operation and thinks very highly of his... efficiency. I thought you should know what you're dealing with here."
Adrian looked in the indicated direction, studying MacNair's face and behavior with increased interest.
As Adrian observed the executioner, he suddenly felt a subtle movement beneath his robes against his skin.
His Devil's Snare vine had emerged from inside his sleeve without being summoned. The plant was now gently but insistently coiling around his wrist beneath his robes, tightening and loosening in a specific pattern.
'Well then.'
Adrian's expression shifted subtly.
He naturally knew exactly what the Devil's Snare was telling him.
The Devil's Snare had detected the aura and residual traces of Dark Magic clinging to the man named Walton MacNair.
Another dark wizard, then. Possibly even a Death Eater or former Death Eater, working within the Ministry.
Seeing Adrian suddenly frown and grimace, Mr. Diggory probably assumed Adrian was simply worried about what was to come in the forest.
"Sigh," Mr. Diggory sighed heavily and helplessly. "I'd genuinely love to help you and the creatures, but in matters like this, I'm truly powerless to intervene."
Adrian reached over and patted him reassuringly on the shoulder. "Don't worry yourself too much, Mr. Diggory. I appreciate your concern. But I suspect things may not develop the way certain people are expecting them to."
The Devil's Snare vine in his sleeve, having successfully delivered its warning, quietly retreated back beneath his robes and settled into dormancy.
After walking for around ten minutes along increasingly rough and overgrown paths, the group had completely entered the depths of the Forbidden Forest.
The temperature had dropped noticeably under the dense canopy.
Although individual Treants could now be found scattered throughout most of the Forbidden Forest, their main habitat and primary settlement was still located deep in the forest's heart.
Precisely where the Acromantula colony used to flock before the Treants had... dealt with that situation.
Before long, a rough wooden fence appeared before them through the trees, clearly marking some kind of boundary or enclosure. The fence was made from whole tree trunks lashed together with vines, standing perhaps eight feet tall.
Beyond the fence, partially visible through gaps in the wood, was an enormous cave entrance—pitch black, bottomless, radiating cold air that smelled of damp earth and something else.
Umbridge, maintaining her position at the front of the group and apparently determined to demonstrate her authority and courage, walked forward boldly toward the fence. She peered inside curiously through the gaps between logs, trying to see what lay within the darkness. "Is there something kept in there?"
"I would strongly suggest you don't get too close to that fence," Adrian warned sharply from behind her.
But before he'd even finished speaking his warning—
Two massive dark figures suddenly shot out from the cave's depths with startling speed and horrible clicking sounds.
CRASH!
Two enormous Acromantulas lunged at the fence from inside. They crashed against it with tremendous force that made the whole fence shudder. They stopped just barely steps away from where Umbridge stood.
"Ah! AHHHH!" Umbridge shrieked in terror. She stumbled backward frantically. Her face had gone pale; all color was draining away. Her eyes were wide with fear.
The Aurors who had accompanied them, along with Walton MacNair, quickly reacted and moved forward to shield Umbridge.
However, after the initial violent lunge and display of aggression, the two massive Acromantulas didn't actually cross or attempt to break through the fence—they merely continued to emit hoarse, rattling cries from behind it, clicking their chelicerae threateningly but not pressing their attack further.
Only then, as the initial panic subsided and people's racing hearts began to slow, did everyone present notice an important detail they'd missed in the chaos.
Both agitated Acromantulas were actually bound quite securely by thick brownish-green vines that extended deep into the cave behind them like reins or chains. The vines wrapped around their bodies and legs, clearly restricting their range of movement and preventing them from actually escaping the enclosure.
"These are merely penned livestock," Adrian explained calmly. He stepped forward casually as if enormous venomous spiders were completely ordinary and unthreatening.
A peculiar mixture of lingering terror and returning smugness immediately appeared on Umbridge's still-pale face as she processed this information. She straightened her pink cardigan with shaking hands, trying to recover her dignity.
"Well! I cannot let that pass unnoticed!" She declared, raising her chin in an attempt to reassert authority despite her fear moments before. Her voice still trembled slightly, somewhat undermining the effect. "Privately breeding Acromantulas without proper Ministry permits is a serious violation of multiple regulations! These creatures are classified XXXXX for a reason!"
Adrian maintained his calm tone. "As I just explained, these are being raised and managed by the Treants themselves, not through any private breeding operation. The Ministry has no jurisdiction over how forest creatures manage their own territory and resources."
This logical explanation left Umbridge momentarily speechless, her mouth opening and closing as she searched for a counterargument that would hold up legally.
But she recovered quickly and immediately turned to face Dumbledore, who had been standing silently in the background observing this entire confrontation with calm expression.
She spoke in a sharp, accusatory tone.
"Headmaster Dumbledore, surely you have something to say about this situation?"
Everyone in the group turned to look toward Dumbledore, waiting to see how he would respond to this.
Dumbledore who hadn't spoken much since they'd entered the forest, simply clasped his hands in front of him.
"As Adrian has accurately explained, Professor Umbridge," He said mildly, "these Acromantulas are indeed being raised and managed by the Treants as part of their community's resources. I, as Headmaster of Hogwarts, have no authority to dictate or interfere with the lifestyle choices, resource management, or territorial practices of the Forbidden Forest's native inhabitants."
Umbridge's lips pressed together into a thin, tight line that nearly disappeared. She was clearly extremely dissatisfied with Dumbledore's answer and his continued refusal to give her the ammunition she wanted. But she couldn't directly refute it on the spot.
"Very well," She said finally with a cold snort. "We can discuss this particular matter at a later date."
Adrian, standing slightly to the side of the main group, grimaced faintly at her back.
The truth was that a good portion of the valuable venom from these penned Acromantulas had actually been going directly into Hogwarts' potion ingredient inventory for the past few months, providing a steady supply of this expensive material.
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