Heart of the Guardian

6. Hagrid's Tale

Poppy's cheerful tone and Hagrid's gruff voice woke him.  "... sent him down to breakfast."

Hagrid sniffed and blew his nose. "He's a good boy, our Harry. Did ya' see...?"

"Yes. They're nearly always like that in the mornings. He won't leave the man," came Poppy's soft reply.

Snape shifted as he struggled to wake up, irritated at being talked about, talked over.

"P'fessor?"

"Shh... don't wake him."

"I'm awake, Poppy." He finally pried his eyes open and squinted at the light coming through the window, framing nothing but blue sky.

"P'fesser! It's good to see you, sir!" Hagrid's dustpan-sized hand patted his shoulder – patted him! – exceedingly gently, which is to say it pounded him down into the mattress, making his buttocks ache again. Snape bore it without even a wince.

"Hagrid..." Snape realized he was checking a name off on a mental list he had not been aware he had been keeping, one column labeled Us, with Potter at its head, followed by Minerva, Arthur, Miss Granger, Draco, and half a dozen other voices, a second column labeled Them, containing Bellatrix, Dolohov, Greyback, Lucius...

His relief must have shown on his face, because the half giant sniffled again. "Aye, I'm a'right, P'fessor... me and Grawpy too – and Fang. We all made it." Snape's stomach tightened.

He barely noted Poppy tending to his nearly-healed wounds until Hagrid winced when she pulled back the sleeve of his left arm. "Poppy," he murmured. She continued what she was doing, without looking up. "Poppy," he said again, grasping her wrist lightly. She looked up, read his expression, and stopped.

"I'll just let you finish with these yourself, Severus, shall I, now that you're awake?" He nodded. "I'll check that you do," she warned.

"Poppy..." he begged.

She nodded, lifted her chin to direct his attention to the breakfast tray on the bedside table – solid food... his stomach growled – patted his knee and, throwing a meaningful look at Hagrid, went off to breakfast.

The chair creaked ominously under Hagrid's weight, but it held as he leaned to place the tray on Snape's knees.

"Me an' Grawpy are doin' jes' fine, P'fessor," Hagrid said, his beetle-black eyes crinkling warmly. "Y' should see 'im helpin' with th' buildin'. I ain't never seen 'im so happy. 'Course it helps that ever'one is nice to 'im now. 'Specially after th'..." Hagrid caught himself. "An' Fang – he's as happy as a pup. You shoulda' seen 'im..." Hagrid interrupted himself again. "Try some o' that porridge, P'fessor. Harry put some honey in it fer yeh before he left."

Snape hesitated a moment, then dipped a spoon into the porridge, his mind rapidly calculating the best way to keep the man talking. "Go on," he said to Hagrid. "You were saying about Fang...?"

"Oh – er – yeah... he's... he's a good dog, Fang, i'n' he?"

"Indeed." Snape eyed the half-giant over his spoon. Clearly he had been instructed not to say anything upsetting. Snape's stomach constricted at the thought of what upsetting might include. Fifty four... Fred Weasley... Fifty four... Fred... "...after Potter came out of the forest with Voldemort..." ...What?

"And... how is the faculty?"

Hagrid's eyes crinkled again. "Oh, they're right busy, P'fessor. Got th' students busy too, the ones tha' decided to stay to finish out th' term. Yeh'd be proud of 'em, P'fessor, carrying on after... after... Well – yeh'd be proud of 'em is all I'm sayin'. Flitwick ..."