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Chapter 645: The Plight of the Giants
🕑 Added 2025-03-21 13:17:31 +0000 UTCAfter hearing Hagrid's explanation, Kyle rubbed his forehead, feeling the weight of the situation.
There were seventy or eighty Giants in total, yet he had only managed to sway six or seven to their cause—a mere fraction, just one-tenth of the whole. Even if this small group joined, the effort wouldn’t have been entirely in vain. But even that tenuous hope hinged on uncertainty.
As Hagrid had pointed out, these Giants would only consider switching sides if they were unwilling to submit to Golgomath's brutal rule. But if Golgomath truly was as bloodthirsty and ruthless as described, how could he possibly tolerate dissent? Let alone the possibility of these defectors aligning themselves with enemies?
And even if they somehow managed to escape his grip, they would only potentially join their side. The likelihood of both conditions being met seemed increasingly slim.
To put it bluntly, Kyle thought, Hagrid’s mission had been futile.
Kyle tapped a finger thoughtfully against the wooden table and asked, “What kind of strength are we talking about when it comes to the Giants?”
“Very powerful,” Hagrid replied, his voice grave. “Giants, like Dragons, can resist most magic. They’re unbelievably strong, with stamina to match. A wizard who encounters a Giant... well, they’ve no chance. You can’t fight them, you can’t even run fast enough to get away. Why d’you ask?”
“Just curious,” Kyle replied evenly. “Since they’re likely to become our enemies, it’s good to understand what we’re up against.”
There was a moment of silence. Then Kyle broke it with another question. “Hagrid, are there any other groups of Giants elsewhere?”
“No,” Hagrid said with a heavy shake of his head, his tone tinged with sadness. “That’s all of ’em.”
He sighed before continuing, “There used to be over a hundred tribes spread across the world, but now… now there’s just this one. Most of the others were killed off—some by wizards, but most of ’em by their own kind. Giants aren’t meant to live close together, y’see. But when wizards started huntin’ them, they had no choice but to stick together to survive.”
“I see,” Kyle murmured, glancing at Hagrid.
It was clear that Hagrid had a deep connection to the Giants—more than just sympathy. It was something instinctive, a tie rooted in his heritage. Kyle remembered that Hagrid’s mother had been a Giant, a bond that couldn’t be ignored. Even if Hagrid disliked the Giants’ violent ways, he couldn’t completely detach himself from their plight.
After a moment of thought, Kyle asked, “You mentioned that Golgomath sided with the Death Eaters because of his bloodthirsty nature, right?”
Hagrid nodded in confirmation.
The previous leader, the old Gurg, had leaned towards supporting their side. But at the most critical moment, he had been killed—beheaded by Golgomath. Hagrid and Madame Maxime’s efforts had been undone in an instant.
“The Death Eaters must’ve planned it long in advance,” Kyle said, his voice dropping slightly. “That’s why they armed Golgomath with that Goblin-forged sword. But… if—hypothetically speaking—a new Gurg replaced him, would it change anything?”
Hagrid hesitated. “Maybe, but it wouldn’t be easy,” he admitted. “Golgomath’s the biggest Giant there—he’s over three feet taller than the rest. With that Goblin sword in his hands, no Giant can stand up to him.”
“Not even you?” Kyle asked curiously.
Hagrid shook his head solemnly. “No. The Giants hate Wizards because of how we use magic against ’em. If I killed a Giant using magic, they’d never trust us. They’d side with the Death Eaters straight away.”
He paused before adding, “Even the Death Eaters didn’t try to use magic to win them over. All they did was give Golgomath that sword so he could kill the Gurg himself.”
A heavy silence filled the room once more, broken only by the soft crackling of the fire in the hearth.
“What about magical creatures?” Kyle asked, his voice slightly unsteady. “Like a lost Dragon... or something even more dangerous?”
“That’s even less likely,” Hagrid replied, waving the suggestion off. “There are at least seventy Giants there. No magical creature would go near ’em—not even a Dragon.”
The copper kettle on the stove began to whine, its shrill sound cutting through the room.
“There, Kyle, you don’t need to worry about that,” Hagrid said, reaching for the kettle. He poured boiling water into two enormous, bucket-like mugs and handed one to Kyle. “Now, tell me about Hogwarts. I haven’t heard a peep about what’s been happenin’ there... How’s Harry?”
Kyle sighed. “I hate to worry you, but things haven’t been great for him lately. He had a run-in with Dementors during the holidays.”
“Dementors?” Hagrid exclaimed, his voice rising sharply. “How’s that even possible? That can’t be true!”
“It’s true,” Kyle said, nodding grimly. “The Dementors attacked Little Whinging. But don’t worry—Harry’s fine. He used the Patronus Charm to drive them off. Still, he ended up on trial for using magic in front of Muggles.”
“That’s outrageous!” Hagrid shouted, his hands curling into fists. “Harry was just defendin’ himself! What’s wrong with that?”
“Don’t worry,” Kyle reassured him. “With Professor Dumbledore’s help, Harry’s safe for now. But his current trouble is with Umbridge.”
“Umbridge? Who’s that?”
“A Ministry of Magic official. She...” Kyle’s words trailed off suddenly. He froze mid-sentence, his expression turning unreadable.
Hagrid tilted his head in confusion. “Kyle, what’s—”
Before he could finish, Kyle interrupted, his voice taking on an unnatural tone. “If you keep being stubborn, Harry’s situation will only get worse. Choosing the Ministry of Magic is the right path.”
Hagrid stared at him, baffled. “Kyle, what are you talkin’ about—”
A loud knock at the door cut him off.
Both men turned toward the sound. Hagrid glanced at the window beside the door, where the silhouette of a short, stocky figure swayed against the thin curtain.
Kyle quickly shook his head and signaled for Hagrid to stay quiet and open the door.
Though confused, Hagrid complied. He nudged Fang aside, who was pawing excitedly at the door, and pulled it open.
Standing in the doorway was Dolores Umbridge, wrapped in a pink, fluffy duffel coat and wearing a matching earflap hat. She craned her neck to look up at Hagrid, who towered over her.
“So,” she said, her voice slow and grating, “you are Hagrid, I presume?”
Without waiting for a response, she stepped inside, her small, deliberate movements exuding self-importance.
“Ah, Kyle,” she said, feigning surprise. “I thought your voice sounded familiar. No wonder you’re here.”
“Yes, Professor Umbridge,” Kyle said smoothly. “Hagrid and I are on good terms, and I wouldn’t want to see him take a wrong step.”
“A wise sentiment,” Umbridge said, smiling broadly, though her laughter carried an edge that set Hagrid on edge.
“Well...” Hagrid muttered, scratching his head. “Not meanin’ to be rude or anythin’, but who exactly are you?”
“My name is Dolores Umbridge,” she said, her sugary tone clashing with her steely expression.
“You’re the Umbridge?” Hagrid glanced at Kyle, whose earlier strange behavior suddenly made more sense. Still, Hagrid kept his thoughts to himself.
“I thought you worked for the Ministry of Magic,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “I’ve seen you before, always hangin’ around Fudge.”
“That’s correct,” Umbridge replied. “I am Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. I am also currently the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor and High Inquisitor at Hogwarts.”
Hagrid blinked, clearly unimpressed by her self-aggrandizing list of titles. “Well, that’s brave of you,” he said, ignoring her last remark. “Not many folks are willin’ to teach that class these days. How about a cup of tea?”
Before she could respond, he poured another mug of hot water and grabbed a handful of tea leaves, tossing them in without ceremony.
Umbridge’s eyes flicked to the chipped mug in his hand, and her frown deepened. “No, thank you,” she said curtly, barely masking her distaste.
“I’ve come to inform you,” she continued, straightening her posture, “that as High Inquisitor, it is my duty to assess the teaching standards of all Hogwarts professors.”
“You’re investigatin’ us?” Hagrid asked, furrowing his brow.
“Yes,” Umbridge said with a syrupy smile. “The Minister is determined to root out any unqualified instructors.”
She didn’t elaborate further but took a slow lap around the room, her eyes darting over every detail before turning back to the door.
“We’ll meet again soon, Hagrid,” she said from the threshold, her tone both polite and foreboding. “I trust you’ll make the right choices by then.”
