Ted and Hagrid were deep in discussion about the centaurs of the Forbidden Forest.
Hagrid, being on good terms with them, often visited their tribe and exchanged goods.
The centaurs might seem aloof, but in reality, they still relied on certain resources from the wizarding world.
Every month, Hagrid would collect the herbs and magical materials they gathered and, in return, bring them supplies they couldn't easily procure on their own.
Hagrid, of course, had free rein in the Forbidden Forest.
Not just because he was strong, but because he held a unique position—respect was just as important as brute force when dealing with the creatures of the forest.
As they walked, Ted curiously inquired about the centaurs' social structure.
He recalled snippets of information from Professor Quirrell, who had studied them briefly before shifting his focus to less-protected magical creatures, like trolls.
But Quirrell never delved into the deeper questions Ted found fascinating.
"Hagrid, are there many centaurs?" Ted asked.
"Not too many," Hagrid replied. "Less than eighty in the Forbidden Forest."
"What about the female centaurs and the young ones?"
"Rarely see 'em. They stay deep within the tribe's territory, well protected. Even the foals—centaurs call their young and young wizards 'ponies.'"
Ted nodded thoughtfully before hesitating, then asking, "So, do centaurs drink milk? And where do they get it from?"
Hagrid scratched his wild mane of hair. "I... I dunno. Never thought about it. Never seen it."
Behind them, Malfoy's eyes nearly bulged out of his skull.
'What kind of lunatic even asks that?!'
It was in that moment Malfoy became certain—Ted was someone he should never mess with.
He was weird!
Meanwhile, Ted felt wrongly accused.
'What?! I'm just asking a scientific question! What's so strange about wanting to understand centaur biology?'
That question would haunt Malfoy for years. Even long after their time at Hogwarts, a small voice in his head would whisper,
'Where did they drink from?'
Suddenly, a faint glow pulsed from the small crystal servant hidden in Ted's robes. A warning.
"Watch out!" Ted shouted, immediately raising his wand. "Frostbolt!"
A sharp, icy-blue projectile shot through the air, striking at a massive, shadowy form lunging from the underbrush.
"Frostbolt!"
"Frost Nova!"
Ted's reaction was swift—his freezing spell burst outward, a wave of icy energy slowing their attacker's movements.
Though the Frostbolt hadn't done much damage, the combined spells forced it to a halt.
A guttural croak, deep and wet, rumbled through the air as the creature struggled against the ice trapping its limbs.
A monstrous, slimy amphibian, almost the size of a small carriage, loomed before them.
Tentacle-like appendages sprouted from its head, each one adorned with an eerie, swiveling eyeball.
Hagrid didn't hesitate. He pulled the trigger on his hunting crossbow, sending a thick bolt deep into the creature's hide.
Then, with a roar, he discarded the weapon and charged forward.
His massive fists crashed down on the monster's slimy flesh with bone-jarring force.
A minute later, Hagrid was panting but victorious.
He wiped his forehead with his sleeve and growled, "Blimey! A Froghemoth this close to the forest's edge? That's not normal."
The beast, now lifeless, had been a formidable opponent.
Though it lacked magical abilities, its tough hide was highly resistant to spells, and its ambush tactics made it a nightmare for unsuspecting travelers.
Classified as a semi-dangerous magical creature by the Ministry, it was more than capable of swallowing a person whole in one bite.
"Good thing Peter noticed it in time," Ted said, patting the psicrystal in his pocket.
It had detected the creature's faint mental activity before the attack, giving Ted the crucial seconds needed to act. Without that warning, Malfoy would've been Froghemoth chow.
Though the battle was short, it had been intense.
If Ted hadn't been there, Hagrid might've struggled more, especially since he couldn't openly use his umbrella wand in front of the students.
Now, the half-giant was busy harvesting useful parts from the monster's corpse.
"Ted, yeh take half the spoils," Hagrid said as he cut into the beast with a large knife. "That freezin' spell was brilliant. Froze the Froghemoth solid!"
Ted and Malfoy, however, were keeping their distance.
The sight—and smell—of Hagrid dissecting the creature was a bit much.
Malfoy had been so startled during the fight that he had hidden behind Fang, which only earned him a look of disappointment from the large boarhound.
Ted, noticing Malfoy still looking a bit pale, sat down beside him. "We've got over an hour left. You hungry?"
He pulled out a piece of beef jerky and offered it to him.
Malfoy hesitated.
He normally wouldn't touch such low-class food, but after that fight, his stomach had other opinions. He took it.
'This is beneath me,' he told himself.
Then he took a bite.
'...Wait. This is actually good.'
Malfoy: I can endure this...
Also Malfoy: Damn it. Why does this taste so good?
Ted leaned against the tree trunk, gazing through the thick canopy at the dappled moonlight filtering down.
"Draco, Can I call you that?"
Malfoy hesitated for a moment, then gave a small nod—partly for the sake of the beef jerky still in his hand.
Ted smiled. "Draco, I don't hate you."
Malfoy blinked, caught off guard.
"I don't think there are any real villains at Hogwarts," Ted continued. "I'd be friends with anyone, regardless of House. Just because we're in different ones doesn't mean we have to be enemies."
Malfoy stared at him, frozen mid-chew.
'What is he talking about? Is he insane?'
Ted kept his voice even. "Draco, I don't mind if you insult me. I can brush it off. But I won't tolerate you insulting my friends. 'Mudblood' shouldn't be in your vocabulary. Someday, I hope you'll have a friend you'd want to protect, too."
Malfoy opened his mouth, but no words came out.
He didn't know how to respond.
'Is he mocking me for not having friends? I... I do... I...'
Ted's voice broke the silence. "What do you think about pure-blood status?"
"Pure-blood?"
"Yes, the idea that it makes you better."
Malfoy straightened, his posture stiffening. "Pure-blood is a badge of honor!" he declared, as if repeating something he had been taught since birth.
Ted nodded. "What if I told you that's not true?"
"You—"
Ted raised a hand, cutting him off. "Do you actually know your own family's history?"
"Of course I do!"
"No, you don't," Ted said calmly. "History is written by the victors, shaped however they see fit."
Malfoy scowled, but Ted pressed on.
"Before the Statute of Secrecy, wizards and Muggles weren't separate. Many wizarding families can trace their lineage back centuries, but they intermarried with Muggles all the time. The concept of 'pure-blood' didn't even exist back then."
"That's rubbish!"
Ted smirked. "Is it? Let's talk about your ancestors."
Malfoy frowned but said nothing.
"Armand Malfoy was a member of the Norman army that followed William the Conqueror to Britain. He secretly aided William with magic and, as a reward, was granted land in Wiltshire. But before that? That land belonged to a Muggle landowner whose family had lived there for generations. Your family didn't even originate in Britain."
Malfoy's face darkened, but Ted continued.
"The idea of 'pure-blood superiority' only became popular after the International Statute of Secrecy was enforced in 1692. Before that, the Malfoys were deeply intertwined with Muggle aristocracy. There's even strong evidence that Lucius Malfoy I was a suitor of Queen Elizabeth I."
Malfoy's jaw dropped. "That's a lie!"
Ted shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe the reason she never married was because your ancestor cursed her when she rejected him. Some historians think so."
Malfoy looked stunned.
"Your family thrived by acquiring Muggle lands and wealth. You even dabbled in Muggle currency, which is why the Malfoys are one of the richest wizarding families today.
At first, your ancestors opposed the Statute of Secrecy. But when they couldn't stop it, they changed their tune, cutting ties with Muggles and rewriting their history to suit the new order."
Ted bit into another piece of jerky as Malfoy's world crumbled around him. Tonight was proving to be an educational one—between centaur biology and family legacies, Malfoy's entire worldview was being shattered.
"Depending on Muggles isn't shameful. In fact, it was the norm in wizarding history. Many of the greatest wizards—Merlin included—gained their renown by working with Muggle rulers. Pure-blood pride? It's just an excuse to keep power within certain families."
He clapped Malfoy on the shoulder, wiping his fingers on the back of his cloak. "Here's a secret for you."
Ted leaned in close, whispering in his ear. "The Dark Lord himself is a half-blood."
Malfoy stiffened like he'd been hit with a Petrificus Totalus.
He didn't even remember how he got back to the castle or into his dormitory.
When he woke up the next morning, it felt like he had lived through a nightmare.
In the end, he couldn't stand it any longer.
He grabbed a quill and parchment and wrote a letter to his father, demanding to know the truth...
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Word count: 1515
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