— CHAPTER TWENTY—

Hagrid 's Tale

Harry sprinted up to the boys' dormitories to fetch the Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map from his trunk; he was so quick that he and Ron were ready to leave at least five minutes before Hermione hurried back down from the girls' dormitories, wearing scarf, gloves and one of her own knobbly elf hats.

'Well, it's cold out there!' she said defensively, as Ron clicked his tongue impatiently.

They crept through the portrait hole and covered themselves hastily in the Cloak — Ron had grown so much he now needed to crouch to prevent his feet showing — then, moving slowly and cautiously, they proceeded down the many staircases, pausing at intervals to check on the map for signs of Filch or Mrs Morris. They were lucky; they saw nobody but Nearly Headless Nick, who was gliding along absent-mindedly humming something that sounded horribly like 'Weasley is our King'. They crept across the Entrance Hall and out into the silent, snowy grounds. With a great leap of his heart, Harry saw little golden squares of light ahead and smoke coiling up from Hagrid's chimney. He set off at a quick march, the other two jostling and bumping along behind him. They crunched excitedly through the thickening snow until at last they reached the wooden front door. When Harry raised his fist and knocked three times, a dog started barking frantically inside.

'Hagrid, it's us!' Harry called through the keyhole.

'Shoulda known!' said a gruff voice.

They beamed at each other under the Cloak; they could tell by Hagrid's voice that he was pleased. 'Bin home three seconds . . . out the way, Fang . . . out the way, yeh dozy dog . . .'

The bolt was drawn back, the door creaked open and Hagrid's head appeared in the gap.

Hermione screamed.

'Merlin's beard, keep it down!' said Hagrid hastily, staring wildly over their heads. 'Under that Cloak, are yeh? Well, get in, get in!'

'I'm sorry!' Hermione gasped, as the three of them squeezed past Hagrid into the house and pulled the Cloak off themselves so he could see them. 'I just — oh, Hagrid!'

'It's nuthin', it's nuthin'!' said Hagrid hastily, shutting the door behind them and hurrying to close all the curtains, but Hermione continued to gaze up at him in horror.

Hagrid's hair was matted with congealed blood and his left eye had been reduced to a puffy slit amid a mass of purple and black bruising. There were many cuts on his face and hands, some of them still bleeding, and he was moving gingerly, which made Harry suspect broken ribs. It was obvious that he had only just got home: a thick black travelling cloak lay over the back of a chair and a haversack large enough to carry several small children leaned against the wall inside the door. Hagrid himself, twice the size of a normal man, was now limping over to the fire and placing a copper kettle over it.

'What happened to you?' Harry demanded, while Fang danced around them all, trying to lick their faces.

'Told yeh, nuthin', ' said Hagrid firmly. 'Want a cuppa?'

'Come off it,' said Ron, 'you're in a right state!'

'I'm tellin' yeh, I'm fine,' said Hagrid, straightening up and turning to beam at them all, but wincing. 'Blimey, it's good ter see yeh three again — had good summers, did yeh?'

'Hagrid, you've been attacked!' said Ron.

'Fer the las' time, it's nuthin'!' said Hagrid firmly.

'Would you say it was nothing if one of us turned up with a pound of mince instead of a face?' Ron demanded.

'You ought to go and see Madam Pomfrey, Hagrid,' said Hermione anxiously, 'some of those cuts look nasty.'

'I'm dealin' with it, all righ?' said Hagrid repressively.

He walked across to the enormous wooden table that stood in the middle of his cabin and twitched aside a tea towel that had been lying on it. Underneath was a raw, bloody, green-tinged steak slightly larger than the average car tyre.

'You're not going to eat that, are you, Hagrid?' said Ron, leaning in for a closer look. 'It looks poisonous.'

'It's s'posed ter look like that, it's dragon meat,' Hagrid said. 'An' I didn' get it ter eat.'

He picked up the steak and slapped it over the left side of his face. Greenish blood trickled down into his beard as he gave a soft moan of satisfaction.

'Tha's better. It helps with the stingin', yeh know.'

'So, are you going to tell us what's happened to you?' Harry asked.

'Can't, Harry. Top secret. More'n me job's worth ter tell yeh that.'

'Did the giants beat you up, Hagrid?' asked Hermione quietly.

Hagrid's fingers slipped on the dragon steak and it slid squelchily on to his chest.

'Giants?' said Hagrid, catching the steak before it reached his belt and slapping it back over his face, 'who said anythin' abou' giants? Who yeh bin talkin' to? Who's told yeh what I've — who's said I've bin — eh?'

'We guessed,' said Hermione apologetically.

'Oh, yeh did, did yeh?' said Hagrid, surveying her sternly with the eye that was not hidden by the steak.

'It was kind of . . . obvious,' said Ron. Harry nodded.

Hagrid glared at them, then snorted, threw the steak back on to the table and strode over to the kettle, which was now whistling.

'Never known kids like you three fer knowin' more'n yeh oughta,' he muttered, splashing boiling water into three of his bucket-shaped mugs. 'An' I'm not complimentin' yeh, neither. Nosy, some'd call it. Interferin'.'

But his beard twitched.

'So you have been to look for giants?' said Harry, grinning as he sat down at the table.

Hagrid set tea in front of each of them, sat down, picked up his steak again and slapped it back over his face.

'Yeah, all righ',' he grunted, 'I have.'

'And you found them?' said Hermione in a hushed voice.

'Well, they're not that difficult ter find, ter be honest, said Hagrid. 'Pretty big, see.'

'Where are they?' said Ron.

'Mountains,' said Hagrid unhelpfully.

'So why don't Muggles — ?'

'They do,' said Hagrid darkly. 'On'y their deaths are always put down ter mountaineerin' accidents, aren' they?'

He adjusted the steak a little so that it covered the worst of the bruising.

'Come on, Hagrid, tell us what you've been up to!' said Ron. 'Tell us about being attacked by the giants and Harry can tell you about being attacked by the Dementors — '

Hagrid choked in his mug and dropped his steak at the same time; a large quantity of spit, tea and dragon blood was sprayed over the table as Hagrid coughed and spluttered and the steak slid, with a soft splat, on to the floor.

'Whadda yeh mean, attacked by Dementors?' growled Hagrid.

'Didn't you know?' Hermione asked him, wide-eyed.

'I don' know any thin' that's bin happenin' since I left. I was on a secret mission, wasn' I, didn' wan' owls followin' me all over the place — ruddy Dementors! Yeh're not serious?'

'Yeah, I am, they turned up in Little Whinging and attacked my cousin and me, and then the Ministry of Magic expelled me — '

'WHAT?'

' — and I had to go to a hearing and everything, but tell us about the giants first.'

'You were expelled! '

'Tell us about your summer and I'll tell you about mine.'

Hagrid glared at him through his one open eye. Harry looked right back, an expression of innocent determination on his face.

'Oh, all righ',' Hagrid said in a resigned voice.

He bent down and tugged the dragon steak out of Fang's mouth.

'Oh, Hagrid, don't, it's not hygien—' Hermione began, but Hagrid had already slapped the meat back over his swollen eye.

He took another fortifying gulp of tea, then said, 'Well, we set off righ' after term ended — '

'Madame Maxime went with you, then?' Hermione interjected.

'Yeah, tha's righ',' said Hagrid, and a softened expression appeared on the few inches of face that were not obscured by beard or green steak. 'Yeah, it was jus' the pair of us. An' I'll tell yeh this, she's not afraid of roughin' it, Olympe. Yeh know, she's a fine, well-dressed woman, an' knowin' where we was goin' I wondered 'ow she'd feel abou' clamberin' over boulders an' sleepin' in caves an' tha', bu' she never complained once.'

'You knew where you were going?' Harry repeated. 'You knew where the giants were?'

'Well, Durnbledore knew, an' he told us,' said Hagrid.

'Are they hidden?' asked Ron. 'Is it a secret, where they are?'

'Not really,' said Hagrid, shaking his shaggy head. 'It's jus' that mos' wizards aren' bothered where they are, 's'long as it's a good long way away. But where they are's very difficult ter get ter, fer humans anyway, so we needed Dumbledore's instructions. Took us abou' a month ter get there — '

'A month?' said Ron, as though he had never heard of a journey lasting such a ridiculously long time. 'But — why couldn't you just grab a Portkey or something?'

There was an odd expression in Hagrid's unobscured eye as he surveyed Ron; it was almost pitying.

'We're bein' watched, Ron,' he said gruffly.

'What d'you mean?'

'Yeh don' understand,' said Hagrid. 'The Ministry's keepin' an eye on Dumbledore an' anyone they reckon's in league with 'im, an' — '

'We know about that,' said Harry quickly, keen to hear the rest of Hagrid's story, 'we know about the Ministry watching Dumbledore — '

'So you couldn't use magic to get there?' asked Ron, looking thunderstruck, 'you had to act like Muggles all the way ?'

'Well, not exactly all the way,' said Hagrid cagily. 'We jus' had ter be careful, 'cause Olympe an' me, we stick out a bit — '

Ron made a stifled noise somewhere between a snort and a sniff and hastily took a gulp of tea.

' — so we're not hard ter follow. We was pretendin' we was goin' on holiday together, so we got inter France an' we made like we was headin' fer where Olympe's school is, 'cause we knew we was bein' tailed by someone from the Ministry. We had to go slow, 'cause I'm not really s'posed ter use magic an' we knew the Ministry'd be lookin' fer a reason ter run us in. But we managed ter give the berk tailin' us the slip round abou' Dee-John — '

'Ooooh, Dijon?' said Hermione excitedly. 'I've been there on holiday, did you see — ?'

She fell silent at the look on Ron's face.

'We chanced a bit o' magic after that an' it wasn' a bad journey. Ran inter a couple o' mad trolls on the Polish border an' I had a sligh' disagreement with a vampire in a pub in Minsk, bu' apart from tha' couldn't'a bin smoother.

'An' then we reached the place, an' we started trekkin' up through the mountains, lookin' fer signs of 'em . . .

'We had ter lay off the magic once we got near 'em. Partly 'cause they don' like wizards an' we didn' want ter put their backs up too soon, an' partly 'cause Dumbledore had warned us You-Know-Who was bound ter be after the giants an' all. Said it was odds on he'd sent a messenger off ter them already. Told us ter be very careful of drawin' attention ter ourselves as we got nearer in case there was Death Eaters around.'