Walking the unicorn girl through the castle, Coen could clearly tell how curious she was about this new place. Compared to the half-finished castle inside the suitcase, Hogwarts' winding corridors and shifting staircases felt to her like wandering into some kind of magical hedge maze.
Coen had to pull her away from the mistletoe hanging in the outer corridor of the Great Hall. He wasn't sure if unicorns could be poisoned by it, but he was sure the human body he made for her definitely wouldn't handle it well.
Besides, normal humans would choose to kiss under the mistletoe—not stare at it like it was a juicy snack.
After crossing the grounds, they arrived outside Hagrid's hut. Coen knocked, and there was an immediate loud crash inside.
"Ah—who is it—wait a sec—"
Hagrid sounded a bit flustered. There were more sounds of something heavy being knocked over inside.
After a long moment, the wooden door finally creaked open and Hagrid poked his head out.
His hair and beard were soaking wet, like he'd dumped a bucket of water over himself, and his flushed skin peeked out from beneath the dripping hair.
"Coen? You're not supposed to be out looking for a dance partner—oh…" Hagrid looked confused at first, but then noticed the girl behind Coen—someone he'd never seen at Hogwarts before. Probably foreign. "Hello there—"
Once Coen confirmed that Hagrid wasn't, in fact, naked, he let go of the unicorn girl's hand.
Without Coen holding her back, she shot into the hut like a little rocket and immediately latched onto Hagrid.
"Oh—huh?" Hagrid blinked in panic, black beetle eyes wide. No stranger had ever hugged him so enthusiastically before—maybe his dad had, back when he was alive.
And to make things more awkward, this was Coen's dance partner. Hagrid stood there, frozen, eyes darting between the girl clutching his leg and Coen.
Thankfully, Coen didn't look upset.
[Flower!] The unicorn girl pulled a blooming yellow flower from her pocket and offered it with a sweet fragrance. [For nice man!]
"She loves magical creatures," Coen explained. "And I told her all the ones in the Forbidden Forest are looked after by you—and that they live really well."
"O-oh, that's… well, thanks—I mean, I didn't really do that much…" Hagrid scratched at his still-stiff hair, which, judging by how firm it stayed, seemed to have been drenched in some kind of extreme hold gel that refused to wash out. "Thanks for the flower."
"You going to the ball tonight?" Coen asked as he stepped inside and took in the chaotic state of the hut: messy bed, crooked cabinets, chairs knocked over...
"I'll stop by later tonight…" Hagrid muttered. "Been years since the last one, right?"
"With Madame Maxime?" Coen added with a raised eyebrow. "From the tracks outside, looks like she's been visiting a lot."
Seeing Coen's knowing expression, Hagrid quickly waved his hands. "No—no—it's not like that—I'm not dancing with her or anything—"
"Why not?" Coen looked puzzled. "She seems pretty interested in you."
"N-no way—she wouldn't fancy me—" Hagrid's face turned beet red, like someone had pressed a branding iron to it.
"If she wasn't interested, she wouldn't keep wandering over here," Coen said seriously. "The dragons are gone, Hagrid. She's definitely not here for them. Hogwarts is full of that sappy, syrupy love energy today. If you don't have a date, people are gonna laugh at you."
"Uh… does your partner want some tea or something?" Hagrid clearly wanted to change the subject and looked around for the unicorn girl. "I've got a few tea bags, or maybe—"
Too late. She'd already found his liquor stash.
"Knew it," Coen said flatly.
"Wait—can you two drink?" Hagrid asked uncertainly. "I thought—"
"She's technically old enough…" Coen mumbled, glancing at her chugging the bottle. Stopping her now would just ruin her Christmas mood.
"Let's talk business, Hagrid. Madame Maxime isn't the kind of neighbor who drops by every other day. Miss this chance, and your only shot at seeing her again is flying to France."
"I know…" Hagrid sighed, shoulders slumped. "But I just don't have the nerve to talk to her too much… you know… about… relationship stuff..."
"Whether you miss your chance or get rejected, the result's the same," Coen said bluntly. "Be brave—You're one of a kind. I bet she can't find anyone else in the Triwizard schools who can even reach around her waist like you can."
"I guess I'll… give it a shot this afternoon?" Hagrid said hesitantly. "I've just been so rattled these past few days… that reporter's really gotten to me… Especially those pieces about you and Harry—she really exaggerates."
"Rita Skeeter came to see you?" Coen's face darkened. "When?"
Looks like his earlier warning hadn't fully scared her off. Or maybe she thought she'd found some big-shot backing her.
"Last week, I think. She knocked when I didn't have class," Hagrid said, frowning at the memory. "Said she wanted to talk about magical creatures for the Prophet's Creatures Column… but all she did was ask about you and Harry—mostly you…"
"Me?" Coen narrowed his eyes.
If she was still trying to drag Harry and Hagrid into her stories, that was one thing. But digging into his background? That was something else.
She was either stupid—or she thought she had someone powerful in her corner now.
"She asked if I knew about your… 'real identity,'" Hagrid muttered. "I told her I didn't, and then she started making up all kinds of creepy stuff… about Dementors and such…"
Hagrid visibly shivered. Clearly, Dumbledore hadn't shared Coen's origins with him.
"Yeah, that would sound pretty creepy," Coen said stiffly. "She was right, though—I am a little Dementor baby."
"PFFFT—HAHAHAHA!" Hagrid burst out laughing. "Merlin's beard, that woman really will say anything for a headline, won't she?"
"Forget her," Coen waved it off. "Your top priority now is to become a master of romance. And fix your look, by the way—is that setting glue in your hair? How much did you use?"
"I tried washing it out, but water just made it harder..." Hagrid grumbled.
"Scourgify." With a flick of his wand, Coen cleared the stubborn gel from Hagrid's hair.
"Actually, you look better with it all fluffy—think about it, that's how it looked the first time she saw you."
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