HP: Transmigrating as an Obscurial

Friday mornings at Hogwarts were delightfully free, with no scheduled classes for first-years. It was a rare opportunity to explore, and Vizet had already decided how to spend it.

The day before, an owl had arrived with a message from Hagrid, inviting him to stop by his hut. Vizet hadn't forgotten how the giant-hearted man had treated him with kindness before Hogwarts, nor how he had stood by him in Diagon Alley. Refusing such an invitation wasn't an option.

Besides, the Forbidden Forest intrigued him. Hagrid's hut sat right on the edge of it — close enough to offer a glimpse into its mysteries.

As he walked across the dewy lawn, the sight of Hagrid's home came into view. Hagrid called it a "hut," but to Vizet, it felt more like a miniature castle built for a giant. The massive oak door frame alone stood nearly four meters tall, and the one-story structure gave the illusion of a two-story house.

A rustic charm surrounded the place — tools of all shapes and sizes hung from the walls, many unrecognizable but clearly well-used.

Before Vizet could knock, a deep, thunderous bark shattered the morning quiet.

"Oh! That must be Vizet," Hagrid's booming voice called from inside. "Fang! Slow down! You'll scare him!"

A blur of black fur shot out from around the side of the hut. The next thing Vizet knew, a massive dog — a Neapolitan Mastiff — was bounding straight toward him, its tongue lolling out in excitement.

Fang leaped.

Vizet braced himself.

But just before impact, a massive hand caught the dog by the scruff and effortlessly hoisted him into the air.

"Hey now! Behave!" Hagrid scolded, though he was clearly amused. "You'll knock 'im over!"

Even dangling midair, Fang didn't seem particularly bothered. His oversized jowls drooped into a forlorn expression, and he let out a half-hearted whine.

"He's just happy to see someone new," Hagrid explained, setting Fang down gently. "Poor thing's a bit timid most of the time. But don't let that fool you — when it really matters, he'll do the right thing."

Fang, now on all fours, gave Vizet a thorough sniff before flopping onto his back, belly exposed in the universal dog request for affection.

Vizet crouched down and gave him a rub, feeling the thick folds of skin beneath his fingers. "He's friendlier than I expected."

"That's 'cause you're a friend," Hagrid said with a grin. "He knows."

Inside, the hut was just as oversized as its exterior suggested. The single-room home was dominated by furniture fit for a half-giant — massive chairs, a long wooden table, and a bed big enough to sleep three ordinary people.

Various objects cluttered the walls: a crossbow, an enormous leather coat, and a patched-up umbrella that Vizet strongly suspected hid Hagrid's wand.

The fireplace was enormous, large enough to roast a full-grown sheep. Smoked meats and dried herbs hung from the rafters, and in the center, a copper kettle steamed gently over the flames.

"Come in, come in! Drink some tea!" Hagrid pulled a baking tray off the fire, setting it on the table with a loud thud. "I just made some scones!"

Vizet took one look at the scones — thick, dense, and looking more like bricks than pastries — and hesitated.

Fang, however, had no such concerns. Hagrid tossed him a piece, and the dog immediately began gnawing on it, the crunch so loud it sounded like he was chewing on a bone.

Vizet swallowed. His teeth were nowhere near as strong as a mastiff's.

"Thank you," he said politely, accepting a cup of tea instead. "I already had breakfast, so this is perfect."

Hagrid nodded approvingly. "So? How's Hogwarts treatin' ya? Might be a bit different from what you're used to, but I reckon you'll settle in just fine."

Vizet took a slow sip of tea, watching as Fang continued his battle with the scone. He had no doubt Hagrid could bite into one without a problem, but for now, he'd stick to his tea.

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"You don't need to be so formal when you're here," Hagrid said, taking a scone nearly the size of Vizet's head and biting into it without hesitation. "You should treat Hogwarts like your second home."

For all his towering height and imposing presence, Hagrid had a way of making people feel at ease. His sheer size might create a sense of distance at first, but once you truly got to know him, his warmth was unmistakable. He was straightforward, unpretentious, and always eager to share.

As the conversation unfolded, he spoke about his younger days — the time he had been expelled from Hogwarts, the regret of not being able to continue his studies, and how that had shaped his life. There was no bitterness in his voice, only a quiet acceptance of the past.

From there, he moved on to the Forbidden Forest, describing its magical creatures and rare plants with a fondness that made it clear the place was more than just a mysterious, untamed wilderness to him.

"The Weasley twins are always sneakin' in there," Hagrid grumbled, shaking his head. "Always up to somethin'. Last time, they stirred up a group of centaurs! Nearly got themselves in real trouble."

Vizet could easily imagine the scene — the mischievous twins darting between the trees, leaving chaos in their wake.

"They're slippery, those two," Hagrid continued with a sigh. "Every time I have to track 'em down, it's a nightmare. At least they're third-years now. Maybe in a few years, I can finally relax!"

Vizet raised an eyebrow. "And by 'relax,' do you mean you'll just have new troublemakers to chase after?"

Hagrid chuckled, not denying it.

"But you called the creatures in the Forbidden Forest 'little cuties.' Which ones do you like the most?"

"Oh, too many to count!" Hagrid's entire demeanor brightened as he launched into a passionate list. "Thestrals, Mooncalves, Auguries, Hippogriffs, unicorns…"

As he spoke, he reached beneath the kettle and pulled out a worn cushion. "Take this, for example," he said, dusting it off. "Made from Augurey crest feathers. Fantastic for insulation. And see this?"

He pinched both ends of the cushion and gently pulled. The feathers stretched, expanding into something the size of a large fan. When he pushed them back together, it shrank down again, fitting neatly in his palm.

Vizet's gaze traveled around the hut. Now that he was paying attention, he noticed other objects that weren't as ordinary as they first seemed. A thin, silvery bandage draped over the wall… a scuffed, oil-stained handbag resting near the bedside… something about them felt oddly luxurious.

Hagrid caught his look and said casually, "That bandage there? Unicorn tail hair. The bag too."

Vizet nearly choked on his tea.

"You —" He blinked, trying to process it. "Hagrid, you're telling me you use unicorn tail hair… as bandages?"

"Yeah! Best material for it. Strong, flexible, and it doesn't bother the creatures when they move around." Hagrid scratched his head as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "When I bought Fluffy, I had to sell some of it to afford him. Need to restock soon, otherwise, I'll run short."

Vizet pressed a hand to his chest, reeling.

A single unicorn tail hair cost twenty Galleons. A full bandage required at least a dozen of them. That meant each roll of bandages hanging in this hut was worth a fortune!

Even that old, battered handbag — if sold to the right buyer — could fetch an unimaginable price.

Hagrid was unknowingly sitting on a goldmine.

A stealthy rich man, living in a hut.

Vizet took a deep breath and stood up with new resolve.

"Hagrid!" he declared, his tone serious. "When I master healing magic, I'll help you treat injured creatures. In exchange, would you be willing to share some unicorn tail hair with me?"

Hagrid looked momentarily taken aback, then gave a hearty laugh. "Course, of course! You don't even have to ask — if you need some, just let me know!"

Vizet clenched his fist, determined. He had just discovered an untapped treasure trove, and all it took was a bit of magic and goodwill. This was a deal worth making.