In the Melancholy Moonlight

Chapter CXLIII: Tug-of-War

LUCY:

Five minutes later, we were rushing through the night down to Hagrid's hut. I was shaking with excitement, and I was constantly pushing the pace as a result.

"Lucy, we have the Marauder's Map for a reason!" Hermione hissed when I once again kept walking after Harry stopped.

"The full moon's in a couple nights, I would hear if someone were coming," I hissed back. "Come on, the coast is clear for at least the next two hallways."

"Your word's good enough for me," Harry whispered, tucking the map into his pocket and shoving me to the front of the group.

"What can I say, it has its advantages," I muttered as I led the way through hallway after hallway. Finally, finally, finally, the hut was in sight, and it was light inside. Hagrid was home.

I reached forward and knocked eagerly.

"Hagrid, it's us!" Harry called.

"Shoulda known!" Hagrid said from inside over the sound of the dogs' excited barking. "Bin home three seconds! Out the way, Fang, out the way, yeh dozy dog. Tuck's well-behaved, Lucy, though he surprised me quite a bit..."

The door opened a bit, and Hagrid's face appeared in the crack.

Hermione screamed at the sight. His face was a mess of cuts and bruises. But Merlin, I had never been happier to see him.

"Merlin's beard, keep it down! Under that cloak, are yeh? Well, get in, get in!"

We shuffled in and shed the cloak as soon as Hagrid closed the door behind us.

"I'm sorry, it's just—" Hermione stammered. "Oh, Hagrid!"

"It's nuthin', it's nuthin'!" he said, glancing worriedly out a window. I scooped Tuck up and draped him over my shoulders so he could lick my face as I darted around the hut closing the curtains.

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"Told yeh, nuthin'." Hagrid grabbed a kettle. "Want a cuppa?"

Ron shook his head. "Come off it, you're in a right state!"

"I'm tellin' yeh, I'm fine," he insisted.

"He sounds like you after a full moon," Harry muttered. I swatted his arm in response.

Hagrid smiled at us, wincing as he did so. "Blimey, it's good ter see you four again — had good summers, did yeh?"

I bit my lip. Worst summer of my life, actually. But I wasn't about to say that.

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

"Fer the las' time, it's nuthin'!"

"Would you say it was nothing if one of us turned up with a pound of mince instead of a face?"

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

"I'm dealin' with it," he said, reaching for a dragon steak that had been hidden under a tea towel.

Ron cringed. "You're not going to eat that, are you, Hagrid? It looks poisonous."

"It's s'posed ter look like that, it's dragon meat, an' I didn' get it ter eat," he replied as he slapped it over the more injured half of his face. "Tha''s better. It helps with the stingin', yeh know."

"So are you going to tell us what's happened to you?" Harry pressed.

"Can', Harry. Top secret. More'n my job's worth ter tell yeh that."