Sirius's son

HAGRID'S TALE

Harry and Rigel ran right upstairs to fetch their Invisibility Cloak, pendant and the Marauder's Map while Hermione headed to her dorm to get the scarf and gloves leaving Eliza and Ron waiting in the common room. And Harry was so quick since only a few seconds later, he was down but not for another five minutes until Hermione's presence.

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

They crept through the portrait hole and covered themselves hastily in the Cloak-Rigel noticed how 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. They then set off at a quick march, toward the hut, now is lit up with light coming inside of it, with smoke coming out of the chimney. They crunched excitedly through the thickening snow until at last, they reached the wooden front door. Harry then 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 one another under the cloak; they 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's head appeared in the gap.

Hermione screamed, and Rigel's grin disappeared.

"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 four 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, and Percy even suspected a few broken bones and ribs as well. 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 do that's 'nuthin'?"

"It's 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 lot again-had good summers, did yeh?"

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

"Ya think?" Eliza and Rigel said.

"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."