On Saturday morning, a cool autumn wind swept across the Scottish Highlands, carrying several yellow leaves over the calm surface of Hogwarts’ Black Lake.
Most of the students were still buried beneath warm blankets, enjoying the chance to sleep late after their first week of classes.
Leon Cromwell, however, had already dressed and left the castle through its heavy oak doors.
His destination was the small hut standing near the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
Rubeus Hagrid had shown great interest in Leon’s decade of survival in Albania.
Ever since meeting him at the opening feast, the half-giant had repeatedly invited the new professor to visit for tea and discuss the creatures they had encountered.
Leon had been eager to accept.
The greatest difference between his Forgotten Realms spellcraft and British wand magic involved material components.
High-circle spells often required rare substances, and the quality, freshness, and magical concentration of those ingredients could directly influence the final effect.
Hagrid was famous for acquiring unusual materials.
A man capable of casually obtaining unicorn tail hair, dragon eggs, and other restricted goods was exactly the kind of contact an arcane researcher needed.
“Woof!
Woof!” The moment Leon crossed the fence surrounding Hagrid’s vegetable garden, an enormous black boarhound charged from behind the hut.
The dog barked fiercely, trying its best to appear intimidating despite the nervous look in its eyes.
“Fang!
Get back!
Leave him alone!” Hagrid’s thunderous voice came from nearby.
He emerged carrying a half-skinned dead ferret, and surprise spread across his heavily bearded face when he recognized the visitor.
“Blimey!
Professor Cromwell!” Hagrid quickly hid the bloody animal behind his back, then wiped his hands against his thick coat with little success.
“I didn’t expect you this early.
The place is a bit of a mess, and there might be a smell.
I hope you don’t mind.” Very few Hogwarts professors visited the groundskeeper’s hut apart from Dumbledore.
The surrounding area was usually filled with animal remains, strange tracks, droppings, and creatures that most sensible witches and wizards preferred to avoid.
“It doesn’t bother me, Hagrid.” Leon smiled and waved dismissively, though his attention had already shifted past the flustered half-giant.
His enchanted glasses focused on a cluster of writhing shapes in the corner of the garden.
Several enormous orange slugs were devouring Hagrid’s cabbages.
Each creature was nearly as long as a man’s forearm, and trails of steaming slime marked the ground behind them.
“Are those flesh-eating slugs?” Leon asked, unable to hide the admiration in his voice.
“A Cornish variety, perhaps?” “Er, yes, Professor.” Hagrid rubbed his hands together nervously.
“I know they aren’t exactly pleasant to look at.
They’ve been growing too quickly and eating almost everything in the garden, so I’ve been trying to find something that’ll kill them.” “Kill them?
Absolutely not.” Leon strode across the garden without caring that mud splashed across the bottom of his robe.
He crouched beside the largest specimen and studied it with the enthusiasm of a jeweler examining a flawless diamond.
“Look at the color of those markings and the amount of acidic mucus it produces.
This may be the healthiest flesh-eating slug I’ve ever encountered.” He drew his ebony wand and gently touched the creature’s back.
The slug contracted violently, releasing a fresh stream of corrosive slime.
“Excellent gland development as well,” Leon murmured.
“The acid concentration is remarkable.” If properly refined and used as a material component for [Melf’s Acid Arrow], the resulting spell might approach the strength of fourth-circle magic.
Hagrid stared at him in disbelief.
During his many years at Hogwarts, people had described his creatures as dangerous, disgusting, irresponsible, or illegal.
No one had ever praised the quality of his work with such sincerity.
“You really think they’re impressive?” Hagrid asked, his voice trembling slightly with excitement.
“I thought you’d find them revolting.” “Revolting?” Leon looked up with a serious expression.
“To a knowledgeable researcher, there are no disgusting creatures—only creatures whose uses haven’t been discovered.
A flesh-eating slug provides acidic mucus, alchemical glands, and skin that could be processed into acid-resistant gloves.” He stood and brushed the dirt from his hands.
“Hagrid, I would like to arrange a regular supply of materials.
Slug glands, naturally shed unicorn hair, unusual feathers, scales, venom, or anything else you collect from the Forbidden Forest.” Leon’s enthusiasm increased as he considered the possibilities.
“I’ll pay twice the highest rate offered in Diagon Alley.” “Don’t talk about money, Professor!” Hagrid waved one enormous hand, nearly striking the side of the hut.
“If you need any of it, take it.
Most of that stuff just sits around here anyway.” “In that case, stop calling me Professor.
Leon is fine.” Hagrid broke into a broad smile.
“All right, Leon!” Afterward, Hagrid eagerly invited him inside for tea.
The hut smelled strongly of boiling tea, smoke, and animal fur.
Hams and dead pheasants hung from the rafters, while a massive egg rested beneath a blanket in one corner.
Leon suspected it belonged to a creature that the Ministry would strongly disapprove of Hagrid owning.
“Would you like a rock cake?” Hagrid asked.
“Made them this morning.” He placed a tray of biscuits on the table.
They looked solid enough to reinforce a castle wall.
Leon felt it would be rude to refuse, so he selected one and cautiously took a bite.
His teeth immediately protested, and he quietly decided there would not be a second attempt.
As they drank tea, Leon described several monsters he had encountered during his years in Albania.
Hagrid listened with the fascination of a child hearing his favorite story.
“Those two-headed fire lizards sound brilliant!” Hagrid added another spoonful of sugar to Leon’s cup.
“Shame I’ll probably never get to see anything like that myself.
You know, because of what happened when I was at school.
They snapped my wand and banned me from using magic.” He glanced toward the pink umbrella leaning in the corner, and the excitement faded from his eyes.
“If I traveled somewhere that dangerous, I wouldn’t be able to protect myself.” Leon set down the rock cake he had no intention of finishing.
His gaze moved toward the umbrella, which almost certainly concealed the remains of Hagrid’s broken wand.
Dumbledore had probably repaired it to some extent, but the Ministry’s ruling still prevented Hagrid from openly practicing magic.
“Hagrid,” Leon said, suddenly serious, “do you truly believe that waving a wand and reciting an incantation are the only things that qualify as magic?” Hagrid scratched his head.
“Aren’t they?” “When magical children first awaken their abilities, they don’t possess wands.
Yet accidental magic still occurs.” Without reaching for the ebony wand at his belt, Leon lifted one hand.
A glowing sphere appeared above his palm before drifting through the room.
It was the cantrip [Dancing Lights].
Hagrid stared at it with wide eyes.
“How did you do that?” “Years of study,” Leon replied.
“More importantly, I believe you can do it as well.” He rose and stepped closer to Hagrid.
Leon was tall by ordinary standards, but he still appeared small beside the half-giant.
Nevertheless, the certainty in his voice made Hagrid straighten instinctively.
“I told my students that everyone possesses talents suited to a particular class.
From the moment I met you, it was obvious that you had been trying to follow the wrong path.” Leon pointed toward the Forbidden Forest visible through the window, then toward Fang, who was affectionately pressing his head against Hagrid’s leg.
“Your half-giant heritage gives you far greater physical strength and endurance than an ordinary human.
You possess excellent Constitution, as shown by your resistance to exhaustion, injury, and poison.” He continued before Hagrid could respond.
“Years of caring for magical plants and creatures have taught you to recognize animal emotions and understand the forest.
That represents unusually high Wisdom and a powerful natural affinity.” Leon pushed his glasses higher on his nose.
“Where I come from, no one would force a person like you to memorize complicated wand movements and Latin-derived incantations.
We would call you a Druid.” “A D-Druid?” Hagrid struggled with the unfamiliar word.
“Is that some kind of magical creature?” “No.
A Druid is a spellcaster who draws power from nature rather than relying on a wand.
Through harmony with plants, animals, and the land itself, they can perform magic.” Leon’s eyes brightened.
He had been searching for a suitable candidate to test whether the D&D class system could be taught to native inhabitants of this world.
His students still lacked experience, but Hagrid already possessed nearly every quality required for a Druid.
“No wand?” Hagrid repeated.
His breathing grew heavier as hope and disbelief fought across his face.
“You’re not joking, are you?
How am I supposed to cast anything without one?” “Would you like to try?” Leon interrupted him with a mysterious smile.
He reached into his robe and removed a sprig of mistletoe prepared in advance.
After placing it in Hagrid’s enormous palm, he guided the half-giant to close his fingers around it.
“Shut your eyes.
Don’t think about incantations, wand movements, or complicated formulas.
Concentrate on the plant instead.” Hagrid squeezed his eyes closed, his heavy brow furrowing.
“Feel the life within it,” Leon continued softly.
“Remember the affection you hold for this forest and every creature you’ve cared for.
Guide those emotions into the mistletoe.” Hagrid remained silent for several seconds.
Fine beads of sweat formed across his forehead.
“I only feel my hand itching,” he muttered.
“That is the plant responding to you.
Imagine it growing, flowering, and bearing fruit.
Hold that picture in your mind and repeat after me.” Leon lowered his voice.
“[Goodberry].” “Good… berry…” Hagrid unconsciously repeated the word.
A surge of primal green magic erupted from his body.
The wild energy flowed down his arm and gathered around the mistletoe.
A soft cracking sound echoed through the hut as the plant dissolved into countless golden-green sparks.
Those points of light swirled together and formed four fresh berries in Hagrid’s palm, each one glowing with gentle restorative magic.
Hagrid’s eyes snapped open.
“Merlin’s beard…” He held the berries as carefully as priceless treasures, his hands trembling.
“I did it.
I actually cast magic without a wand.” “To be precise, you cast the first-circle Druid spell [Goodberry].” Leon studied the result with satisfaction.
The casting had been rough and inefficient, but Hagrid’s natural talent far exceeded his expectations.
He patted the half-giant’s arm.
“The magic came from your bond with the Forbidden Forest and the natural power already present within you.
I merely showed you how to reach it.” Leon removed two handwritten books from his robe.
The first was titled Druid: Nature’s Chosen, while the second was a copy of The Adventurer’s Handbook.
He placed both volumes on the table with great solemnity.
“Congratulations, Hagrid.
You are now a first-level Druid.” Hagrid looked between the books and the glowing berries in his palm.
His eyes became wet, and his voice caught in his throat.
“Thank you, Leon.
Truly.” The D&D Panel displayed the change clearly.
[Name: Rubeus Hagrid] [Class: Druid] [Level: 1] Leon had not expected the advancement to happen so smoothly.
The thought of Hagrid eventually unlocking Wild Shape and transforming into a bear produced an image that was both impressive and strangely amusing.
Before either of them could say more, someone knocked rapidly against the wooden door.
“Hagrid!
Are you in there?” [Reader Event Active]