That night, snowflakes began drifting down from a sky that had been heavy with clouds all week, and by Monday morning, the ground lay blanketed in snow.
Hagrid returned to the teacher's table during breakfast, but the applause that greeted him was lukewarm at best. The Slytherin table remained utterly silent, a stark contrast to the cheers coming from the Gryffindor table.
Even within Gryffindor, however, not everyone was a fan of Hagrid. Some of the girls much preferred Professor Grubbly-Plank's lessons.
After all, Professor Grubbly-Plank didn't spring surprises on her students—or more accurately, frights. A Knarl was far safer than a Fire Crab, and it was guaranteed to be on the OWL syllabus.
...
The sixth years had Care of Magical Creatures that morning, marking Hagrid's first lesson with them since his return.
After finishing their first Charms lesson, Kyle and Kanna trudged through the two-foot-deep snow to Hagrid's cabin near the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
A collective gasp rippled through the group as they caught sight of Hagrid.
He looked... intimidating.
His face was battered, his hair was wild and unkempt, and a few stray animal feathers clung to him. Most strikingly, he had half a cow slung over his shoulders, its blood dripping onto the pristine snow and staining it red. The scene was chilling and strange.
"I really do prefer Professor Grubbly-Plank," someone murmured nervously, the sentiment spreading quietly through the crowd.
If Hagrid heard, he gave no indication.
"Come on, follow me. Today, we're having class in here," he announced cheerfully, gesturing towards the forest.
Hesitantly, the students followed Hagrid into the dense woods. They didn't venture far, though; after about ten minutes, Hagrid stopped.
"Right then," he said, grunting as he heaved the half-dead cow onto the ground with a thud. He glanced around at the students, looking oddly pleased. "Don't get too excited now, but the creature we're learning about today is incredibly rare. I reckon I might be the only person in Britain who's managed to tame one..."
He paused dramatically, scanning the surrounding trees.
"Ah, there they are."
"What? Where?" The students whispered among themselves, straining their eyes.
For most of them, the forest seemed entirely empty, save for the occasional Bowtruckle nestled in the trees—creatures they had studied long ago.
"Ahhh!"
The silence was suddenly shattered by a scream.
A Ravenclaw girl was pointing ahead, her eyes wide with terror. "L-look! Over there!"
Everyone turned in the direction she indicated, and more screams followed.
Before them, pieces of meat seemed to peel themselves from the cow's carcass and vanish into thin air. The eerie sight sent chills down many spines.
Some students instinctively backed away, ready to flee the forest entirely. But a smaller group, braver or perhaps more observant, noticed something else.
They saw large, winged black horses, their skeletal forms sleek and menacing. The creatures lowered their heads, tearing into the cow with sharp teeth.
Recognition dawned on a few faces. These were the same creatures that pulled the school carriages each year.
"Thestrals!" Hagrid declared proudly. "Who can see them?"
About half a dozen hands went up.
"A few more than I expected," Hagrid said thoughtfully. "Now, does anyone want to come up and pet them? It's a rare chance, you know."
Every hand dropped, and whether they could see the Thestrals or not, no one seemed keen to get any closer.
Kyle considered stepping forward to spare Hagrid the awkwardness, but just then, movement caught his eye. On the far edge of the Forbidden Forest, he spotted someone—or something. For a brief moment, the figure was visible, then vanished again.
"Professor Hagrid," Kyle said, raising his hand.
"Well... I knew you'd—"
"Sorry, Professor," Kyle interrupted, "but I think I dropped something on the way here. Can I go look for it?"
Hagrid's face fell slightly, disappointment flickering in his eyes, but he nodded. "Alright, no problem."
"Thank you, Professor," Kyle replied, quickly stepping away from the group.
As he left, he saw someone approaching from the opposite direction. Dolores Umbridge, clipboard in hand, was walking purposefully toward Hagrid. She didn't even glance at Kyle as he passed.
Perfect. That saves me from having to explain anything, Kyle thought, relieved.
He continued back toward the forest's edge, stopping in front of a massive Rowan tree. Nearby, a faint rustling sound caught his attention.
"It's been a long time. I'm glad to see you at school," Kyle said, turning his head and smiling. "Mr. Lucius Malfoy."
Lucius Malfoy stood a short distance away, his face pale and his hands gripping his snake-headed staff tightly. If Kyle hadn't spoken just then, it seemed likely Lucius might have acted.
"I'll give you a friendly warning, Mr. Lucius," Kyle continued calmly. "This is Hogwarts, and if I so much as get a scratch, you won't leave here unscathed."
"Dumbledore is not at school," Malfoy hissed, his voice low. "That kind of threat won't work."
"You're welcome to test it," Kyle replied, still smiling. "Though I don't quite understand... Does Dumbledore's absence comfort you that much? I would have thought it'd make you uneasy."
Lucius tightened his grip on the staff but then, with visible effort, lowered it again.
"What do you want?" he snarled. "I don't believe you'd dare harm Draco at Hogwarts. Dumbledore wouldn't allow it."
"You just said he wasn't at school," Kyle pointed out lightly. "And for the record, I haven't done anything to Draco. As for your master—while you might've thought to claim credit the night he was resurrected, that's all in the past now. I've forgiven you for it."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Lucius replied coldly, though the flicker of unease in his eyes betrayed him.
Of course, he knew.
The night Voldemort was resurrected, Lucius had considered capturing Kyle and Harry as a prize to deliver to his master. But Kyle had proven far more dangerous than anticipated, nearly ending Lucius's plans—and perhaps Lucius himself.
Even now, the memory of that moment sent a shiver down Lucius's spine: the splintered tree beside him, felled with a single devastating blow.
But admitting any of it aloud? Impossible.
"Don't you dare slander me," Lucius added curtly.
"If you insist," Kyle said with a casual shrug. "So, what are you so worried about? Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a class to attend."
He turned to leave, but Lucius quickly stepped forward, blocking his path.
"Wait!" Lucius barked, his tone edged with desperation. "Draco doesn't know anything."
"As I've said," Kyle replied patiently, "I'm not going to harm him. We're good friends. Why, just the other day, I even visited him in the common room. Peeled him a Chocolate Frog, in fact. We had a lovely chat."
Kyle's tone remained light, but his words were deliberate. He wasn't just trying to placate Lucius; he truly had no intention of harming Draco. If he'd wanted to, there had been countless opportunities earlier in the year.
"You swear..." Lucius began but hesitated, then stiffened. "No. We need to make an Unbreakable Vow. To ensure you won't—"
"An Unbreakable Vow?" Kyle narrowed his eyes. "You're overreaching, Mr. Lucius. Or do you think I'm some kind of threatless child?"
Instinctively, Lucius pulled his wand from the snake-headed staff.
Kyle didn't move. His expression didn't change. But his voice dropped, a quiet warning. "Think carefully, Malfoy. Is this what you want to do? This is the Forbidden Forest..."
A low growl rumbled through the air, faint but unmistakable.
Lucius froze. The sound was distant yet carried a weight that made his skin crawl. His instincts, finely honed over decades of survival in dangerous circles, screamed at him to stop.
The growl grew louder, and Lucius's grip on his wand faltered. He suddenly felt as though an invisible force was coiled around him, ready to strike at the slightest provocation.
He cast a long, searching look at the sixth-year standing before him. There was something unsettlingly familiar about Kyle—something reminiscent of a presence that could command fear with just a name.
But it wasn't the same. Lucius's first impression of Kyle hadn't been fear, after all. Otherwise, back at the foot of the mountain that night, he wouldn't have considered capturing him to curry favor with Voldemort.
Why does Hogwarts always produce such monsters... Lucius thought bitterly.
But there was no time to dwell on it. The growl deepened, and Lucius caught the faintest whiff of a sweet, almost sickly scent on the wind.
In that moment, he made his decision. Slowly, deliberately, Lucius turned his wand in his hand and released it, letting it fall to the ground.
The growl stopped immediately, as though a switch had been flipped.
The oppressive tension lifted, replaced by the faint earthy aroma of the Forbidden Forest. Yet, the feeling of being watched lingered in the air.