At Hogwarts, everything—flying, diving, going underground, including pranks and extracurricular activities—seemed to revolve around magic.
The logic seemed to be: If what you're doing doesn't involve magic, then aren't you basically a Muggle?
So, you can imagine how shocked Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts, was when he saw a scrawny little wizard climbing a tree with his bare hands—his jaw practically dropped.
Why was he climbing a tree?
Was he seriously just climbing a tree?
Why was he so good at it?!
[Successfully climbed ten meters vertically. Climbing proficiency +1]
[Successfully climbed twenty meters vertically. Climbing proficiency +2]
This was Regulus, seasoned gaming nerd, grinding out skill proficiency the hard way. Unlike the old days of furiously clicking mice, hammering keyboards, ruining his eyes and liver, this time he had to physically scale heights—hands, feet, and all.
In this moment, he really wished the game he'd been obsessed with before transmigrating hadn't been Assassin's Creed, but Hogwarts Legacy—if only anyone here knew how OP he'd been in that game.
…
"Oi, kid! What're yeh doin'?!"
Hagrid squinted up at him for a while, then finally shouted, "Careful now—get down from there!"
Fully focused on climbing, Regulus nearly slipped—wait a second, no one should have been able to see him up in the tree.
Did his Stealth status wear off?
He glanced down from the treetop.
Beneath the layered canopy, a bearded half-giant stood holding the leash of a massive black hound.
His beetle-black eyes gleamed from beneath a mess of hair, staring up at Regulus with concern—Hagrid!
Maybe Stealth failed because of his giant blood?
A faint smile appeared on Regulus's face, one he didn't even notice himself. Going with the flow, he dropped and slid swiftly down the tree to the ground.
Hagrid frowned as he looked at the familiar young Slytherin.
"Hello, sir. You must be Mr. Hagrid, the gamekeeper," Regulus said warmly, bowing slightly. "Regulus Black—awaiting your instructions."
"Er, oh, right, you're that young Black in Slytherin," Hagrid said, clearly caught off guard by Regulus's overly polite tone and unexpectedly friendly manner. For a moment, he looked like he might offer a handshake, but ended up doing nothing. "I'm Hagrid. And you don't have to serve or anything. Uh… what were you doin' up there?"
"I was climbing a tree, sir."
"Climbing trees? But… why?"
"I believe wizards should train their bodies, sir!" Regulus declared firmly. "Wizards may have many abilities and longer lifespans, but we're too fragile. If more wizards were as strong as you, I think we'd be better equipped to handle danger—and to enjoy the world, sir."
"So that's why you're climbing trees?" Hagrid asked, skeptical. Then added, "And you don't have to call me 'sir'…"
"Alright, sir," Regulus said with absolute seriousness. "Tree climbing is an excellent form of exercise. It lets you enjoy the outdoors, the sunshine, and fresh air. The higher you climb, the better the view of the castle and the Forbidden Forest. Plus, it's a full-body workout—it builds core strength, boosts confidence, and reduces stress—"
"Alright, alright," Hagrid nodded, finding some of it surprisingly reasonable but also feeling a laugh bubbling up. "Still, fallin' from that height's no joke, young Black."
"And stop calling me 'sir'—just call me Hagrid."
"Got it, Hagrid."
Regulus leaned over and petted the hound's head. The fur was rather coarse—almost prickly.
The black dog sat quietly, not fierce at all despite its looks. Maybe this was Fang?
"Looks like Claw likes you," Hagrid said with a smile. "So, you plannin' to keep climbin'?"
Looks like it wasn't Fang.
"I just happened to be tired from climbing, Hagrid. What are you off to do? Can I come along?"
"Uh, sure. But you've got to stick close. Claw, let's go."
…
When you're around someone straightforward, genuine, and kind-hearted, it's easy to feel lively and energetic.
So walking alongside Hagrid, Regulus suddenly felt like he'd run into an old school friend—he became unusually talkative.
"Is being the gamekeeper fun? And key keeper—how many keys do you have to manage?"
"There are so many magical creatures in the Forbidden Forest—have you met them all? Which one's your favorite?"
"You know so much! I think you could totally teach us Care of Magical Creatures."
Hagrid's face turned a quiet shade of red beneath his thick beard.
"You know the school so well—where do you think's a good spot for climbing practice? Trees or rock faces are both fine, but it has to be steep."
"Could I visit your hut sometime?"
…
Hagrid was enjoying the chat too—it was rare for a student to treat him with such respect and genuine interest. Rarer still was a younger student who wasn't the slightest bit afraid of him.
And to top it off, this student was from Slytherin—his least favorite house, or perhaps more accurately, the house that least liked him.
But this young Black—Hagrid simply couldn't bring himself to dislike him. Even Claw seemed to like him a lot, and Hagrid knew Claw had a good sense for people.
"You really jumped off the Astronomy Tower? …Are you sure you're a Slytherin?" Hagrid said. "With how much you like adventure, you should've been in Gryffindor with us."
"Well, we Slytherins are just a bunch of kids too, after all. And kids come in all kinds," Regulus nodded, starting to spout nonsense again. "Besides, you know, my brother's in Gryffindor. We're just… diversifying the family investment."
"By the way, have you met my brother and his lot? Has he ever been to your hut?"
"Oh—then I'll bring him along next time to visit you, alright?" Regulus said eagerly.
…
The two chatted as they walked, until a massive, striking willow tree came into view in the distance. Regulus's gaze was instantly drawn to it—
Its thick trunk twisted unnaturally, and its burly branches stretched out at strange angles, some as thick as giant pythons. In the gentle summer breeze, the tree shuddered unnaturally, radiating an unmistakable "don't mess with me" aura of violent villainy.
"You probably haven't studied this kind of plant yet, have you? It's rare!" Hagrid's eyes lit up as he led Regulus closer. "It was transplanted from somewhere else about two years ago. I helped with it myself."
"Whomping Willow," Regulus said softly, staring at the tree without blinking.
"You know that? For a young wizard your age, you sure are knowledgeable," Hagrid chuckled. "Then you must know it's very dangerous—don't go climbing this tree while you're practicing."
"Of course." Regulus nodded earnestly, studying the tree carefully. But no matter how hard he looked, he couldn't find any kind of button or trigger mechanism.
"Pomona asked me to come by before the full moon and add some more fertilizer," Hagrid said. "She wants to make sure the tree can fight in every direction."
Regulus clicked his tongue in amazement—this Whomping Willow already looked like a combat-ready beast. And Professor Pomona Sprout still thought it wasn't enough?
These people are all beasts.
Hagrid pulled a pink umbrella from beneath the folds of his coat and tried to recall, "I think I'm supposed to bury some dung on the northeast side. Yeah, northeast."
"I'm off to spread some fertilizer. You stay here, don't move," Hagrid instructed.
"Hagrid, is it really safe to fertilize it like this?"
Hm? Hagrid paused.
"I remember reading somewhere that the Whomping Willow usually has a weak spot. If it's triggered, it'll stop moving for a while—do you know about that?"