Chapter 32: I Have a Golden House

Rubeus Hagrid is the Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, as well as Harry Potter’s first true friend. He lives in a wooden hut on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

As Sherlock, Harry, and Ron arrived at the threshold, Sherlock’s gaze swept over a crossbow and a pair of rubber boots by the door, already forming a preliminary judgment about the man’s character. If he were allowed to pick them up for a closer inspection, he could uncover much more, but there was no need.

As Harry began to knock, the sound of barking and Hagrid’s scolding followed in quick succession. Moments later, the door to the hut swung open.

"Wait a tick."

Hagrid opened the door just a crack, calling back over his shoulder, "Back, Fang, back!"

He struggled to grab the collar of a massive black boarhound to keep it from lunging, finally ushering the three boys inside. Unlike Hogwarts Castle, this hut had no space-expanding charms applied to it—it was small on the outside and just as small on the inside. Hams and pheasants hung from the ceiling; a copper kettle boiled over the hearth; a massive wooden table and chairs stood before the fire; and in the corner sat a large bed covered with a patchwork quilt.

To Harry and Ron, that was all there was to it. But to Sherlock... Hagrid’s hut was a golden palace shimmering with dazzling light. This confirmed his earlier predictions were entirely correct. Even without examining the crossbow and boots at the door, the items inside the room were enough for him to judge Hagrid’s character.

Indeed, he was a man worth befriending.

Hagrid had let go of the large dog named Fang. Once unleashed, it immediately leaped toward the three boys. Due to its sheer size, Harry and Ron were startled and instinctively stepped back. Sherlock, however, reacted much faster. He had seen through the dog’s nature at a glance, so the moment Hagrid released the collar, he calmly took a step back and maneuvered Ron in front of him.

To Ron’s utter shock, Fang reached his neck and began—licking his ear.

"Er..."

Seeing the "vicious" dog turn into a lapdog in seconds, Harry and Ron were stunned, momentarily at a loss for words. It was then that Sherlock spoke up with impeccable timing:

"The dog is like the master; Fang, much like his owner, is clearly not as fierce as he appears."

Hagrid: Σ(°△°|||)︴

If he understood correctly, that was a compliment, right? Yet... why did it sound so strange? Hagrid was a straightforward man, however, and since he couldn't quite wrap his head around it, he decided not to bother.

Harry introduced Sherlock and Ron to Hagrid. As Hagrid placed his homemade rock cakes onto a platter, he looked at Ron’s freckled face and remarked, "Another of the Weasley brothers, I take it? I’ve spent half my life trying to keep those twins out of the Forbidden Forest."

After this slightly exaggerated joke, he turned to Sherlock. "A genius wizard from a Muggle family. I’ve heard the professors speak very highly of you."

"Sherlock is amazing!"

Harry’s affection for Hagrid was visible; after all, in Harry’s eyes, this giant of a man was the one who had brought him into the magical world and changed his life. Furthermore, having been so suppressed in Potions class, Harry was particularly excited now, talking at length about Sherlock’s unique powers of observation and deduction, praising the art of deduction to the skies. In his conversation, there was an undeniable desire to show off his brilliant friend.

At first, Hagrid listened with interest. After all, it was a good thing for Harry to make friends in this new environment. But because Harry’s praise was so glowing, Hagrid began to feel that Harry was overstating things, exaggerating what he perceived as mere parlor tricks. As the person who had pulled baby Harry from the wreckage, delivered him to the Dursleys, and personally brought him here this year, Hagrid felt a need to test the boy himself.

"Then, Mr. Holmes," he said, looking at Sherlock with keen interest, forcing a smile, "since Harry speaks so highly of you, I wonder if you could deduce something about me?"

Harry and Ron leaned in eagerly.

"Er... I’m afraid I can’t deduce much," Sherlock said honestly, "but you likely don't like your mother."

The moment the words left his lips, the smile vanished from Hagrid’s face. He stared at Sherlock in astonishment.

After a brief silence, he spoke. "Although I don't remember her much... she truly wasn't a good mother. But how did you know that?"

"It’s not worth mentioning, really." Sherlock shrugged. "There is a photograph of you and your father on the nightstand. While it’s quite old, it is kept spotless, yet the rest of the room is rather cluttered, which shows you are a man who values family. From your father’s build, it is clear he was not a giant, so I surmised you were a half-giant. According to my knowledge, the tradition among the giant race is that the taller one is, the more authority one holds. At twelve feet, your father would have been considered a dwarf among giants. The fact that your mother is absent from the photo, combined with this tradition, led me to conclude that she left when you were very young, and your father raised you alone."

"You hit the nail on the head," Hagrid said with a deep breath, asking in a slightly unconvinced tone, "Anything else?"

"You are very fond of animals and have a profound understanding of their habits."

"That’s right too! How did you know? Was it from watching Fang?"

"No," Sherlock’s gaze swept across the room. "I saw it in your hut—a dog bed made of unicorn hair and umbrella flower petals, wind chimes crafted from Chizpurfle scales, a tablecloth stitched from Diricawl feathers, a rug woven from Puffskein fur..."

Sherlock’s words left Harry and Ron with their eyes wide open. They didn't know about the other materials, but unicorn hair... a single strand cost ten Galleons! The fragrant umbrella flower petals were not cheap either, costing at least five Galleons apiece.

In other words, this seemingly messy dog bed was worth thousands of Galleons! And, judging by Sherlock’s description, the other items were certainly not cheap either.

As they looked around Hagrid’s hut again, it no longer appeared humble. It was clearly a golden palace so dazzling it could blind the eyes. Harry was doing better, but Ron immediately lost all motivation to study. Study? To hell with that! Spending seven years of hard labor in school was not nearly as good as being a gamekeeper and a Keeper of Keys!