The Anytime Graduation Certificate was amazing, but not everyone needed a magical kick in the pants.
When Lynn offered one to Harley and Cho the next morning, both girls just shrugged.
Harley shrugged. "I mean… I'm pretty on top of things?"
Cho laughed. "Same. The only class I struggle with is Transfiguration, and I don't think a certificate can turn me into McGonagall overnight."
Fair enough. Compared to the first-year boys' dorm (now miraculously tidy and homework-finished), the girls were basically perfect already.
November rolled in with delicate flurries, the kind that melt the second they touch your nose. Real snowball-fight snow wouldn't show up until December, when (according to Cho) the grounds would be buried under several feet and the Black Lake froze solid. Apparently half the school spent weekends ice-skating, dodging the giant squid's prank tentacles, and definitely not fishing (the merpeople get cranky when you steal their dinner and leave you with half a fish).
The weekend after Halloween, Hagrid's owl tapped on the window with an invitation to his hut.
"Don't eat lunch in the Great Hall," Lynn told Cho at the Ravenclaw table. "We've got plans."
"Plans?" Cho's eyes lit up. "Hagrid finished the cloaks?"
"Yep. And I've got gifts. Trust me, he's gonna love us forever."
Harley bounced on her eyebrows. "Did you get him a baby dragon?"
"Tempting, but no. Dragon eggs are regulated. Dragon meat, though? Perfectly legal and delicious."
He'd ordered four hundred kilos of prime Chinese Fireball cuts (thanks to Cedric's dad at the Ministry for the hookup) and had it delivered overnight, and invited basically everyone they liked.
By the time the whole crew gathered at the castle doors, they looked like a small army: Harley, Cho, Marietta, Hermione, Parvati and Padma Patil, the four Gryffindor first-year boys, Fred, George, and Cedric (payment for services rendered).
Snowflakes drifted down as they trekked across the grounds, leaving a long line of footprints. From a distance Hagrid's bonfire looked like a volcano erupting in the middle of a snowstorm; the man had definitely used magical logs again.
"I've got everything ready!" Hagrid bellowed from fifty yards away, waving arms the size of Christmas hams. "Come warm up!"
Long wooden tables were loaded with platters of raw dragon meat: thick steaks, thin shabu-shabu slices, chunks for stew. A massive cauldron bubbled with red-wine dragon stew the house-elves had started at dawn.
Fred inhaled dramatically. "Lynn, mate, this is the greatest day of my life."
George elbowed him. "We've never had this many girls at a barbecue before."
"Should've invited Angelina," Fred muttered.
George fake-gasped and put him in a headlock. "You're dating my future wife and didn't tell me?!"
While the twins wrestled, the girls commandeered Lynn's portable futuristic kitchen (smoke-absorbing, self-flipping, the works). Harley proudly declared she was in charge of not burning anything. Cho insisted she could pan-sear dragon liver like a pro.
The boys handled skewers: dragon cubes, bell peppers, cherry tomatoes, whole garlic cloves. The smell was criminal.
At one point George nudged Lynn. "So… you and Cho, huh? I've seen you two sneaking off after dinner."
Lynn glanced over at Cho in an apron, cheeks pink from the heat, well, heat, flipping steaks like she'd done it a thousand times. Domestic and adorable.
"Nope," he said cheerfully. "We're not dating."
Fred raised an eyebrow. "Could've fooled me."
"I like them tall with long legs," Lynn deadpanned.
Cedric, standing nearby, suddenly started coughing into his sleeve and shot Lynn a frantic look that screamed ABORT ABORT.
Too late.
A plate of perfectly grilled skewers appeared under Lynn's nose, along with the faint scent of grapefruit and jasmine.
"Tall with long legs, huh?" Cho's voice was sugar-coated razor wire. "How tall exactly? How long are we talking?"
Lynn tilted his head back to meet her eyes. "Future potential is limitless?"
"You've got three seconds to rephrase."
Lynn pointed at the twins. "They said we were dating. I said no because we're twelve and don't even know what real liking feels like yet."
Cho blinked.
He smiled up at her, soft and serious. "So I'm waiting until you're older. Then you can tell me yourself."
Her ears went scarlet. "Who said I'd ever—"
"Christmas dinner at your place still on the table?"
She huffed, cheeks flaming. "My cat actually can do backflips."
"Deal."
She flounced off, ponytail swishing, trying (and failing) to hide a grin.
Cedric exhaled like he'd survived a dragon. "Mate. You're terrifying."
"Natural talent," Lynn said, and passed him a skewer.
The dragon meat was unreal: tender, juicy, with a faint sweetness that regular beef could never touch. The liver? Better than foie gras; silky, fragrant, perfect with just sea salt and pepper. Everyone stuffed themselves silly.
Afterward, the rest of the group waddled happily back to the castle, leaving Lynn, Harley, and Cho with Hagrid.
Inside the hut, Hagrid proudly presented three cloaks: Re'em hide lining (gold and impossibly warm), matte-black outer silk that looked plain but cost more than a Firebolt in unicorn-hair thread alone. The stitches were huge and rugged, but they'd survive a blast from a Hungarian Horntail.
Harley tackled Hagrid's arm in a hug; she barely reached his elbow. "You're the best!"
Cho went shy. "I… don't know how to thank you."
"No need," Hagrid rumbled, patting her head gently with a hand the size of a dinner plate.
Lynn just grinned. "We'll find you a girlfriend. Tall lady. Maybe French."
Hagrid scratched his beard. "Giants live three, four times longer than wizards, y'know. I'm barely middle-aged by giant standards."
He paused, then added quietly, "Me mum was a giantess."
The three first-years went very still.
Harley's eyes narrowed. "Wait… you got expelled, didn't you? But it wasn't your fault, right? Someone framed you!"
Hagrid's smile turned sad. "Old story. Fifty years ago. Let it lie, eh?"
"No way," Harley said fiercely. "We're fixing this."
Cho nodded. "You deserve to have your name cleared."
Lynn pocketed the giant handful of unicorn hair Hagrid pressed on him (plus unlimited access to the magical firewood pile) and promised silently: We've got your back, big guy.
Outside, snow kept falling.
Lynn offered both girls an arm. "Come on, it's cold. I'll walk you back."
One blink later, the three of them popped into existence outside the Room of Requirement, footprints erased, snowflakes still melting in their hair.
Harley brushed flakes off Cho's shoulder. "Operation Clear Hagrid's Name starts tomorrow."
Cho smiled, soft and determined. "Tomorrow."
Lynn just looked up at the castle windows glowing against the dark and snow, and thought: Yeah. Tomorrow.