"Well, I s'pose I oughta go find me some new friends. Ain't been seein' many creatures 'round here lately—wonder where they've got off to." Hagrid sighs to himself, creaking open his door and heading off into the woods.

  The sun dipped low over the Forbidden Forest, casting long shadows that danced between the towering trees. Hagrid trudged through the undergrowth, a hefty sack of meat slung over one shoulder and his crossbow hanging at his side. "Now, don't you lot be givin' me trouble tonight," he muttered, scanning the dense forest for any sign of movement. "Just here fer yer dinner, like always."

  Over the many years of solitude, the creatures of the forest had grown to trust Hagrid, and tonight was no different. A soft rustling from the trees caught his attention, and a pair of glowing yellow eyes peeked out before disappearing into the dark. "That better not be yeh again, Fang," Hagrid grumbled, though his tone was fond. The boarhound had an endearing habit of following him on his nighttime errands.

  The forest was quiet tonight, the kind of quiet that usually set Hagrid's nerves on edge. He continued deeper into the woods as the sun faded out, the lantern clasped on his belt casting warm, flickering light on the mossy ground. "Strange, it is," he grumbled, glancing around at the towering trees. "A forest this big, and not a beast in sight. S'pose I oughta be worried 'bout that."

  He paused to set down the sack he'd brought for the thestrals, though he hadn't seen hide nor hair of them all evening. "Come on then," he called into the dark, his deep voice echoing through the trees. "Don't make me go home thinkin' yeh've gone off ter find trouble. Fang'll be laughin' at me all night if yeh do."

  A gentle sound caught his ear, and Hagrid turned sharply, his hand instinctively moving toward his crossbow. But the noise wasn't the heavy shuffle of a predator or the skitter of bowtruckles fleeing into the trees. It was softer, rhythmic. Like... breathing.

  "Who's there?" he called out, his voice gruff but not unkind. "Come on, show yerself now."

  He stepped cautiously into a small clearing, but the scene that opened before him stopped him in his tracks, and he lowered his crossbow in wonder. At the center of the glade, bathed in the milky glow of moonlight, lay a baby on a bed of moss. Her tiny fists waved in the air, and her face was hidden by a mask—smooth and wooden, adorned with intricately carved silver antlers that shimmered faintly in the light. The mask featured shallow, circular indents for eyes, with delicate streaks of pale red flowing downward like trails of tears.

  Around her, the creatures of the forest had gathered: a stag with eyes fixed on the child; bowtruckles perched in the branches above, unicorns standing earnestly in the shadows; even a niffler and thestral, hovering oddly silent at the edge of the glade. None of them moved, but their presence was anything but threatening. It was as if they were... protecting her.

  "Merlin's beard," Hagrid breathed. "This ain't somethin' yeh see every day, that's fer sure. What're yeh doin' here, little one?"

  The baby cooed softly, and for a moment, Hagrid was at a loss. His eyes dusted the clearing, looking for signs of anyone else—anyone human. "Can't be yer folks left yeh here," he muttered. "Not with all these creatures watchin' over yeh. What're yeh, some kind o'... forest guardian?" He chuckled, only half-joking. "Yer a brave one, layin' there like yeh own the place."

  He stepped forward cautiously, the leaves crunching beneath his massive boots. Then, he hesitated, glancing at the creatures, who made no move to stop him. To his surprise, instead of bolting or intervening, the creatures dipped their head to a bow, as though granting him permission.

  "Well, if they trust me," Hagrid muttered, "guess I've got no choice."

  He knelt carefully, his hand brushing against the earth as he reached for the child, lifting her into his arms. As he tucked the child close, the mask shifted, landing gently on her chest and revealing her delicate features. The baby stared up at him with wide, curious eyes as he observed the mask. "Blimey," he murmured, running his fingers over the intricate design. "Ain't seen nothin' like this in me life. This ain't jus' any ol' thing, is it? Somethin' special, no doubt."

  As he cradled the baby in one arm and tucked the mask into his pocket, the creatures began to retreat, fading back into the shadows. Hagrid gave them a nod. "Don't worry, I'll take good care o' her," he promised. "Ain't no place fer a little 'un like yeh to be growin' up, even with these lot watchin' out fer yeh. C'mon now, let's get yeh somewhere warm."

  But as he turned back toward the castle, a chill ran down his spine. Something about the mask lingered in his mind—the way it had seemed alive in his hands, the way the creatures had gathered around the child like a living shield. He glanced down at the baby again, her tiny fingers clutching his coat and eyes still staring at him in wonder. It's then that he finally met her eyes, and his breath hitched in his throat.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Her eyes blinked up at him, impossibly large for such a small face. A deep, vibrant green, and an other an otherworldly blue mixed in her iris, glistening as though the very heart of the forest had taken root within them.

  "Well, would yeh look at that," Hagrid breathed, leaning closer, his gruff voice unusually soft. "Eyes like tha'... like the forest's starin' right back at me. Never seen nothin' like it."

  "Yeh've got a story, little one," Hagrid whispered, cradling the baby against his chest as he started back toward the castle. "A story I reckon the rest o' us'll be unravelin' fer a long time. But don't yeh worry—Hogwarts'll keep yeh safe, and whatever secrets yeh're carryin'."

  Hagrid stepped into the castle, the baby cradled gently in his arms, her tiny body swaddled securely. He wasn't exactly sure what to say. This was no ordinary child, and he couldn't quite shake the feeling that he was standing on the edge of something far larger than he could comprehend. He shuffled towards Dumbledore's office, where the headmaster awaited him.

  The door creaked open, revealing Professor Dumbledore, his calm demeanor never faltering—except for the briefest flicker in his eyes when they landed on the child.

  "Ah, Hagrid, I had a feeling I might be seeing you tonight," Dumbledore said, his voice soft but his gaze piercing.

  Hagrid stepped forward, careful not to jostle the baby too much. "Professor," he said quietly, his voice low but steady. "I—I found her in the forest, deep within. Been wonderin' where all the creatures had gone off to, I 'ave. An' lo an' behold, they were all busy gatherin' 'round her—seemed to protect her. I've never seen anything like it."

  Dumbledore's eyes narrowed slightly, and he took a step forward, his face softening in disbelief as he peered at the child in Hagrid's arms.

  "Merlin's beard," Dumbledore whispered, more to himself than Hagrid. "She's alive..."

  Hagrid froze, a furrow of confusion wrinkling his brow. "Do y'know her Professor? But—how? I didn't even know she existed until tonight."

  Dumbledore's expression shifted, masking his surprise with a thoughtful look. "I presumed her lost," he murmured. "After her parents... after the attack, I thought... I feared she had perished as well."

  "Who is she?" Hagrid questioned.

  Dumbledore's eyes softened, but there was something unreadable in them as he studied the baby. "Her parents, Hagrid. They were members of the Order. They sent word—just before their deaths. A message asking me to find her, protect her. Keep her safe. But, in truth, I hadn't thought it possible. Not with all the dangers surrounding her. They didn't leave a clue as to where they hid her."

  Hagrid felt a chill run down his spine. "Merlin knows how long she's been in that forest then."

  Dumbledore nodded, his eyes full of something unspoken, something hidden. "Yes, Hagrid. There is more to this child than even I fully understand. Much more."

  The silence hung heavy between them, and for a moment, Hagrid couldn't quite place the weight of it. There was something Dumbledore wasn't saying—he could feel it, like a shadow in the air.

  "But what now?" Hagrid asked, his voice thick with concern. "Where's she gonna go? She can stay here, can't she?"

  Dumbledore's gaze softened, though the mystery in his eyes remained. "I'm afraid, Hagrid, that Hogwarts is no longer a safe place for her. Not yet. She cannot stay here, not with the shadow of Voldemort looming."

  Hagrid's heart sank. "Does she got other family somewhere? Like Harry? Someone's gotta look after her."

  Dumbledore shook his head solemnly. "I'm afraid she's the last of her kind..." He trailed off as if there was double meaning in his words. "There are... forces at work here, Hagrid. Ones that are far beyond the reach of even the Ministry. She has a destiny, though it is not one I can yet share with you. But for now, her safety is my foremost concern. And that safety lies in the muggle world."

  Hagrid felt a wave of frustration. "Muggle-raised, something as magical as her?" He protested gently, his voice full of concern. "How can we just send her off like that? She's just a little thing, Professor."

  Dumbledore gave him a soft, knowing smile. "I understand your concern, Hagrid. But the truth is, she is safer in the Muggle world, where she is least likely to be found by those who would do her harm. I need a few months to find a proper place for her, somewhere beyond reach. Somewhere... hidden."

  Hagrid looked down at the baby. "What do we do until then? Who'll take care of her?"

  Dumbledore turned back to him, his tone filled with a calm certainty. "You will take care of her, Hagrid, as you've cared for so many creatures in this world. She needs someone who will protect her without question. And for now, that person is you."

  Hagrid seemed unsure. He'd cared for creatures large and small, but a child? This was different. Sensing his unease, Dumbledore spoke again. "There's a reason you were the one to find her Hagrid. A reason that the forest opened to you and it's creatures yielded."

  Hagrid looked at the baby in his arms, who was still sound asleep, oblivious to the heavy conversation happening around her. He sighed, his heart heavy with the weight of responsibility. "Blimey, I don't know what's goin' on, but I trust yeh, Professor. I'll look after her. I'll make sure she's safe."

  Dumbledore hesitated, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze, before speaking in a low, almost cryptic tone. "There are many things, Hagrid, that I cannot explain just yet. But know this—the child is important, more than we can fathom. She has a destiny, one that is tied to forces older than Voldemort himself."

  Hagrid gave a slow nod, the mystery of it all sinking in. "Right, then... I'll take care of her, like yeh said."

  Dumbledore placed a hand gently on Hagrid's shoulder, his gaze firm yet kind. "Thank you, Hagrid. I knew I could count on you. We will wait until the time is right. And when that time comes, we will hide her in the muggle-world."

  Hagrid nodded slowly, though he wasn't sure whether it was the weight of Dumbledore's words or the mystery swirling around the child that left him feeling more uncertain than ever.

  "I'll protect her, Professor. I promise." Hagrid stood, resolved.

  "Good," Dumbledore said, his voice barely above a whisper, as he watched the child in Hagrid's arms. "The future is not yet written, but it is already unfolding."

  With that, Hagrid began the walk back to his hut, the baby nestled safely in his arms—and a mystery that would change the wizarding world forever.