Now I'm imagining the events during Chamber of Secrets, when Hagrid is taken to Azkaban. He’s thrown into a cell across from Sirius Black. They don’t speak, just stare. The dementors aura have reduced Hagrid to a state of silent, wide-eyed terror. Sirius, though gaunt and wasting away after eleven years in prison, recognizes Hagrid. He knows who Hagrid is—remembers him as the one who carried Harry to Dumbledore all those years ago. Sirius knows that Hagrid must know Harry.
But time has changed Sirius. He’s no longer the man Hagrid might have recognized. It’s clear the half-giant doesn’t realize who is sitting across from him behind the bars. A few hours go by and Sirius can’t help himself.
"Is he safe?" Sirius rasps, his voice rough and cracked from disuse.
Hagrid jerks his head up, startled. His thick eyebrows knit together as he stares at the man, the familiarity of his face finally clicking. Recognition dawns, but Hagrid doesn’t speak. Instead, he turns his head away, refusing to meet Sirius’s eyes.
Sirius, ever relentless, doesn’t back down. "A bit of advice from a friendly convict; time passes faster in this hellhole if you talk."
"I’ve nothin’ ter say ter you," Hagrid growls, his voice dangerous.
"I know you think I killed them," Sirius replies evenly. His tone is calm, almost resigned. "I good as did. But the guards whispered before you even got here. They say you’re here because of students being petrified. I’m not stupid enough to believe you actually killed anyone. But something in Hogwarts is targeting the kids." Sirius’ voice drops to a whisper, heavy with desperation. "Is the boy safe?"
Hagrid turns his head again, his voice dripping with disgust. "Unfortunately for you, the boy lives."
"I know he lives," Sirius snaps, his tone sharp. "Is he safe?"
Hagrid hesitates, thinking of Dumbledore’s recent dismissal from Hogwarts. The board of governors voted him out after Hermione went under. Not that the board of governors gave two shits about Hermione. Without Dumbledore there, Harry is exposed, vulnerable in ways Hagrid doesn’t want to think about. Slowly, his anger softens, replaced by a deep, gnawing worry.
“He’s like his mother,” Hagrid murmurs into the gloom of the cells, his voice heavy with affection. “Kind, empathetic, and a bit cheeky when he needs ter be.”
For the first time in eleven years, Sirius feels tears sting his eyes, the words cutting through his despair like a blade.
Hagrid continues, his voice quieter now. “He plays Quidditch like James—only he’s a Seeker. And he’s brilliant at it. Does well in classes, too. He’s got his father’s courage, through and through.”
Sirius’s voice wavers as he asks again, for the final time, "Is he safe?"
Hagrid meets his gaze, his own grief barely concealed. “No,” he says, his words laced with bitterness. “He’ll never be safe again. No thanks to you.”
Sirius remains silent until the human guards return, their heavy footsteps echoing through the grim halls. They stop at Hagrid’s cell, unlocking the door with a loud clang. One of them is an auror Sirius recognized. Moody.
“Harry Potter cleared your name,” Moody says gruffly, “Albus Dumbledore and the board have asked we escort you back to Hogwarts, Hagrid.”
“Harry?” Hagrid gasps, taking in a deep breath. “How?”
Moody flicks a look back to Sirius cell, knowing exactly who Sirius is, before glancing back to Hagrid as the half giant stood up. “It seems Potter has once again defeated a dark wizard. I might as well set up a desk for him at the Ministry, he’s got more balls than half my team.”
No one sees Sirius’ mouth lift into a smile in the shadows.
As Hagrid is escorted out, his massive frame stooped under the weight of the air thick with dementor despair, Sirius finally speaks.
“I’m glad I gave Harry to you that night,” he says.
Hagrid pauses mid-step, his shoulders tensing. For a moment, he doesn’t turn, doesn’t respond. Moody places a hand on Hagrid’s forearm, glaring back at Sirius’ wasted form. Then, without looking back, Hagrid lets Moody and the guards lead him away into the shadows.
A few weeks later, Sirius asked the Minister of Magic politely for the crossword.
And the rest of this is history.