Emma Potter; Going to War

26: Hagrid And the Giants

I hurried to dress warm, and in an hour met Harry, Ron and Hermione by the Portrait Hole. Harry and Ron were wearing sweatshirts but Hermione was wearing scarf, gloves, and one of her own knobbly elf hats. 

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

We crept through the portrait hole and covered ourselveshastily in the cloak — Ron had grown so much he now needed tocrouch to prevent his feet showing — then, moving slowly and cautiously, we proceeded down the many staircases, pausing at intervalsto check the map for signs of Filch or Mrs. Norris.

 We were lucky;they saw nobody but Nearly Headless Nick, who was gliding alongabsentmindedly humming something that sounded horribly like"Weasley Is Our King." We crept across the entrance hall and thenout into the silent, snowy grounds. With a great leap of my heart, I saw little golden squares of light ahead and smoke coiling upfrom Hagrid's chimney. I set off at a quick march, the other three jostling and bumping along behind me, and we crunched excitedlythrough the thickening snow until at last we reached the woodenfront door; when Harry raised his fist and knocked three times, a dogstarted barking frantically inside. 

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

 "Shoulda known!" said a gruff voice. We beamed at one another under the cloak; we could tell thatHagrid's voice 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'shead appeared in the gap.Hermione screamed.

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

"I'm sorry!" Hermione gasped, as the 4 of us squeezed pastHagrid into the house and pulled the cloak off ourselves so he couldsee us. "I just — oh, Hagrid !" 

"It's nuthin', it's nuthin'!" said Hagrid hastily, shutting the doorbehind us and hurrying to close all the curtains, but Hermionecontinued to gaze up at him in horror.Hagrid's hair was matted with congealed blood, and his left eye hadbeen reduced to a puffy slit amid a mass of purple-and-black bruises.There were many cuts on his face and hands, some of them still bleeding, and he was moving gingerly, which made me suspect brokenribs. It was obvious that he had only just got home; a thick black traveling cloak lay over the back of a chair and a haversack large enoughto carry several small children leaned against the wall inside the door.Hagrid himself, twice the size of a normal man and three times asbroad, was now limping over to the fire and placing a copper kettleover it. 

"What happened to you?" I demanded, while Fang dancedaround us all, trying to lick our 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 us all, but wincing. "Blimey, it's good ter see youthree 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 poundof mince instead of a face?" Harry 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 themiddle of his cabin and twitched aside a tea towel that had been lyingon it. Underneath was a raw, bloody, green-tinged steak slightly largerthan the average car tire.