Crossing the damp, dew-soaked grass, Douglas and the trio made their way to Hagrid's hut. Douglas knocked, and a gruff voice bellowed from inside:
"Come in, the door's open."
Douglas pushed the door open to find Hagrid, for once, dressed in a proper shirt, sitting at a freshly scrubbed wooden table. His massive hound, Fang, whimpered at the sight of Douglas, lifted his head from Hagrid's knee, and shuffled over. Fang grabbed Douglas's trouser leg in his jaws and tugged him toward Hagrid's side.
The air inside was thick with the smell of alcohol. Douglas wrinkled his nose and turned to the three students behind him.
"You lot wait outside. Leave the door open."
He snapped his fingers. A sudden gust of wind whipped through the room, swirling around before carrying the stench of spirits out the door. It took a good five minutes before the air cleared to something resembling normal.
Hagrid kept his head bowed in silence the entire time.
With a flick of his wand, Douglas sent the bucket-sized pewter tankard on the table flying into the corner. He sat down, while the three students lingered in the doorway, peering inside.
No sooner had Douglas taken his seat than Hagrid raised his bleary head. His eyes struggled to focus, but at last he recognized Douglas.
"I reckon I've set a record," he muttered, voice thick and muffled. "Never heard of a teacher only lasting one day."
Douglas chuckled.
"I thought you might break Professor Kettleburn's record—sixty-two probationary reviews."
At that, Hagrid managed a weak laugh, but the sadness quickly returned. He looked utterly miserable.
"I reckon it's just a matter of time before I'm sacked. Madam Pomfrey's done everything she can, but he still says he's in agony, moaning and wrapped up in bandages… Wait, where's my tankard?"
He reached for his drink, only to find it missing.
Douglas produced a small gourd from his pocket, tipped out a single pill—then, thinking better of it, shook out five.
"Open wide."
Hagrid obeyed without thinking. The pills zipped into his mouth and dissolved almost instantly.
"What sort of sweets are these? They're not sweet at all—melt faster than proper candy."
Hagrid didn't notice anything amiss, but Douglas and the students outside could see him sobering up almost immediately.
Douglas eyed him critically.
"They're Sobering Potion pills I brewed myself—much easier to carry than a flask, and they work even better."
Hagrid grimaced, recalling the taste of traditional Sobering Potion.
"Only you would turn Sobering Potion into a candy. Could use a bit more chew, though."
Seeing Hagrid finally clear-headed, Harry stepped inside.
"Madam Pomfrey can heal anything, Hagrid. Last year, I lost all the bones in my arm—she grew them back overnight. Malfoy's just making a fuss to get you in trouble…"
Douglas coughed lightly and looked away. If he'd known about his connection to Harry last year, he never would have used that method to draw out Dobby. Ultimately, it was Dumbledore's fault.
Hagrid's face fell again.
"I figured as much… His dad's on the Board of Governors. They say I started too big—should've saved Hippogriffs for later, done something with Flobberworms first. I just wanted to make the first lesson something special. That's how Professor Kettleburn used to do it… It's all my fault…"
Douglas rolled his eyes.
"You're forgetting Professor Kettleburn had sixty-two probationary reviews…"
Hermione spoke up earnestly,
"It's not your fault, Hagrid! Malfoy got what he deserved!"
Harry quickly added,
"We're all witnesses. You warned us—if you insult a Hippogriff, it'll attack. Malfoy wasn't paying attention, that's all. Uncle, you should tell Dumbledore the truth. He'll help Hagrid."
Ron chimed in,
"Yeah, we're behind you, Hagrid!"
Tears welled in Hagrid's small black eyes, glistening in the creases at their corners.
Douglas let out a sharp snort, voice suddenly stern.
"That's enough. Hagrid, you're a professor. Your first duty is to keep students safe. No matter what Mr. Malfoy did, it's still your responsibility. And you—stop those tears. You're a grown man, not a schoolboy. And lay off the drink."
Everyone in the hut jumped at the harshness in Douglas's tone. Hagrid quickly sniffed and wiped his eyes.
Harry stared at Douglas, stunned.
"Uncle!"
Douglas glared.
"I brought you here to comfort Hagrid and help him come up with a new lesson plan—not to sit around spinning conspiracy theories. Remember this: when you assume the worst of someone, whether they're truly bad or not, you've already made them the villain. Of course, be on guard, but don't go looking for enemies. I'll have a word with Mr. Malfoy about this."
Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but at Douglas's last remark, she wisely closed it and tugged on Harry and Ron's sleeves, signaling them to keep quiet.
Hagrid, hearing Douglas would help, finally relaxed. In his mind, if anyone could talk sense into Draco Malfoy—or even Lucius Malfoy—it was Douglas. After all, just a few months ago, after Douglas had a private chat with Lucius, the Malfoy family's ancestral house-elf had ended up as the Holmes family's butler.
But Hagrid's worry soon returned.
"Even so, Buckbeak could still be in trouble. Ministry rules say any magical creature that injures a person might be put to death."
Afraid Douglas would refuse, he quickly added,
"Buckbeak—that's Little Gray…"
Douglas blinked, surprised.
"When did he get a new name?"
Hagrid sighed.
"He only lets you call him Little Gray. Every time I try, he ignores me. In the end, I had to give him a new name—Buckbeak."
Buckbeak—also known as Little Gray—was a Hippogriff born in Douglas's fifth year. Hagrid had taken Douglas and two friends to visit the newborn, and Douglas, seeing its grey feathers, had dubbed it "Little Gray" on the spot.
At first, Buckbeak rejected the name, even putting up a fight at age one. But after Douglas bested him in every way, the Hippogriff had grudgingly accepted it—though only from Douglas. Hagrid, resigned, had to settle on "Buckbeak" in private.
Just last term, Douglas had transformed into his Animagus form for two more flying races with Little Gray.
Now, Douglas recalled the events of the original story—how the Ministry had indeed sentenced Buckbeak to death, only for Hermione to save him with a Time-Turner.
PS:
Sobering Potion Pills: An experimental concoction developed by Professor Holmes, blending Eastern alchemical techniques with Western potion ingredients. So far, Hagrid is the only known clinical trial participant.
Clinical results: highly effective, but the taste still needs work.
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