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Dumbledore clearly did not approve of Karkaroff's obsession with secrecy.
He believed that no one could ever discover all the secrets of Hogwarts in a single lifeti.
He even ntioned the Room of Requirent.
"One morning I got up to look for the lavatory," he said cheerfully, "took a wrong turn, and found myself in an extrely luxurious bathroom. There was a particularly extravagant urinal in it.
So I suspect the place only appears when one desperately needs a toilet in the early hours of morning."
He finished speaking and gave Darren a aningful wink.
Whether it was a hint or simply a joke—Darren couldn't tell, and he didn't bother dwelling on it.
He was happily busy ordering food.
Every dish that looked remotely interesting, he ordered.
He ate until he felt stretched to the limit.
When he finally leaned back, satisfied, the plates vanished.
Dumbledore asked everyone to stand.
He waved his wand—tables and chairs slid against the walls, clearing a large open space.
Another wave—and a full set of instrunts appeared: drums, guitars, cellos, violins, and more.
Then the Weird Sisters appeared.
A real witch-rock band, featuring torn clothing as their signature style, and chaotic, multi-colored hair.
As they prepared their instrunts, Darren saw Dumbledore gently levitate the champions and their partners onto the center of the dance floor.
Hermione looked flustered and shy.
Darren smiled and extended his hand.
He invited her to dance.
Hermione's expression brightened instantly.
She danced lightly and happily, causing Darren to quicken his own pace just to keep up.
When the first song ended, Hermione slipped out of his arms.
Darren was about to suggest another dance—
—but Fleur approached already.
Hermione winked at Darren and stepped away.
Fine.
Dancing with Fleur was an entirely different experience.
She was graceful, confident, and so skilled that Darren barely needed to do anything—she guided their steps effortlessly.
Darren tried to keep his focus on the dance, but her white dress kept flaring generously around her legs, and he couldn't help noticing it again and again.
For the third dance, he switched partners again—this ti Cassandra.
Her beautiful green eyes never left him, studying him with a calm intensity that made Darren feel slightly overwheld.
Fourth dance.
Fifth dance…
By the ti Darren finally escaped the dance floor, he had practically danced through the entire set.
Harry and Ron stared at him like he was mad.
"You actually danced with every girl who asked. Aren't you exhausted?"
"Yeah. I would never agree if it were ."
They spoke shalessly—earning snorts from nearby girls.
Because truthfully, no girl was going to ask Harry or Ron to dance.
Even Parvati had fled after the opening dance with Harry.
The rest of the night, everyone had been trying to dance with Darren.
No one wanted the two clueless boys.
At midnight, the music finally faded and the Yule Ball ended.
Harry and Ron dragged Darren outside to walk with them.
They thought Darren had been "lost in a pile of girls" all evening and had ignored them, so the rest of the night must belong to the three of them.
Darren didn't quite understand what three boys bonding in the cold accomplished, but he allowed himself to be dragged along.
Besides—there were still girls lingering inside who clearly wanted to continue the night with him.
As the resident Holy Father, he certainly couldn't let anything happen with them.
So he ran out faster than Harry.
When they reached the garden, they heard Hagrid's voice.
"My mum… she was one of the last giants in Britain… Then she died, and my dad raised . But he passed away too…"
Darren understood imdiately.
This was the familiar scene from the original book—one that always shocked him.
He still couldn't wrap his mind around it:
How could a man and a giant woman…
Even fit?
And yet they had a child.
It was one of those magical biology questions he preferred not to think about too deeply.
Hagrid continued awkwardly, "So—what about you? Was it your mother or father?"
"I don't know what you are talking about."
Mada Maxi's voice turned sharp.
She was clearly offended and ready to leave, but Hagrid reached out desperately.
"No—don't go. I've never t another—"
"Another what? Speak clearly!"
"Another half-giant like ."
Darren sighed.
Hagrid truly had zero social awareness.
Maxi had already shown she didn't want to discuss her heritage, and Hagrid still pressed on.
Perhaps he himself didn't feel the need to hide his bloodline.
But for soone like Mada Maxi—who denied it adamantly—this was deeply insulting.
She snapped:
"Half-giant? I have never been so insulted! I am rely—rely big-boned!"
Darren nearly choked.
Big-boned?
That wasn't a skeleton—
That was a dinosaur fossil.
No matter how wonderful the Yule Ball had been, it ca to an end.
After that night's excitent faded, Hermione returned to her ordinary self.
Her hair was ssy again.
When Harry and Ron asked, she said she couldn't dress like that every day—she had lessons to attend.
Harry quietly told her what they overheard about Hagrid being a half-giant.
Ron insisted that in the wizarding world, half-giants were feared—brutal, dangerous, and nearly extinct in Britain.
But Darren and Hermione disagreed imdiately.
They had known Hagrid for years.
He was reckless, impulsive, and couldn't keep a secret—but he was undeniably kind.
Even so, Ron muttered:
"Maybe he doesn't act dangerous now, but look at his history. He raised an Acromantula. He's friends with Blast-Ended Skrewts. That's… not normal."
But he didn't speak too loudly.
He was worried soone might hear and spread it.
Because if certain people—like the Malfoys—learned about Hagrid's heritage, they would use it instantly to try to get him expelled.
And Ron knew they had been waiting for such an opportunity for years.
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