The Tale of Swagrid

Chapter 5

Hagrid span around to face the crowd. He saw a mixture of shock, terror, and pity. A few also seemed openly happy. He internally smiled, while externally showing a face of rage and spite. Suddenly, he yelled, his battlecry reverberating throughout the crowd. Uncertainty flickered across their faces, as the monumentous creature stood before them, spittle flying as he screamed.

But his cry was paused when Micheal calmly replied, "Petrificus Totalus." He shot a wave of white energy at Hagrid, and he froze on the spot.

The crowd gasped, and stood as if the spell has been cast on them too. And slowly, very slowly, his huge, fuzzy hair splaying out behind him, Hagrid fell backwards into the fire. Swagrid yelled at him to move, but he knew Latin as well as Micheal, and Hagrid wasn't moving any time soon.

Grawp charged out of the forest, roaring and swinging the tree he held in his right hand. He raised it high above his head, and swung it into the crowd. They dived for cover, and the rest split, chaos reigning. His stroke hit no one, as intended, and the fire now only had five people in the immediate vicinity: Hagrid, slowly burning in the embers; Swagrid, stumbling towards Grawp, clutching his stump of a hand; Grawp himself, staring into the eyes of Micheal; Micheal, who had wet himself at the sight of Grawp; and a tall figure who strode out from the shadows, lightly resting on his silver snake-headed cane.

He had a thin face with hollow cheeks, and his silvery-blond hair flowed down to his collar. His cloak was black, and Grawp could see magic surrounding him, dark magic. The man smiled mirthlessly, pleased at the astonishment present in the faces of the others. He loved to be mysterious. As he squinted at Grawp, seemingly surprised, and shrugged his shoulders, he sighed, and said, "What a waste. You look very useful."

Grawp wasted no time pondering this man. If he wasn't quick, Hagrid would be burnt to a crisp. He threw his hand into the fire, ignoring his own charred flesh, searching for Hagrid. He'd fallen right through and hit the earth below, saving him from most of the fire's heat, but he was still scarred and he had only the shriveled remainants of his hair remaining. Grawp felt the coolness of his body, and wrenched it from the fire, and lay him down besides Swagrid. Swagrid resumed his yelling of "Move!", as Hagrid lay there, breathing shallowly, smoke leaving his lungs with every breath. The unidentified man laughed. "Micheal's a powerful wizard. You won't break his spell for at least twenty minutes!"

Hagrid's face was black, and his back was crisping and melting like marshmallow from where he'd lain on embers. Swagrid stopped yelling and started to pick out the remaining, sizzling embers. Even Swagrid knew that two minutes breathing smoke wasn't good, so Hagrid needed all the help he could get.

Grawp threw a rock the size of a small car at Micheal, who just about managed to crumble it mid air, with the spell Reducto, and then quickly Expulso, to avoid the smaller shrapnel. This quick pause was enough to allow Grawp to cast a spell of fire resistance and to heat up another stone he held in his hand. Once it was nearly molten, he prepared himself for his next move. He threw the putty-like rock at Micheal, but before he could cast his spells, Grawp used one of his own. "Confrigo!"

Nothing happened for a moment, before an explosion erupted behind the flying boulder. This firstly sent the rock flying faster than before, and secondly, the sheer heat of the explosion melted the missile, sending molten rock hurtling towards Micheal. As Micheal frantically cast Reducto, a small bang sounded, and the liquid rippled. Then he cast Expulso, and the liquid turned from a boiling blob to burning rain.

He screamed and waited for death to come, slow and painful. Defeated by a magical giant? What a way to go. And his death also meant the beast would inherit his wand. What a waste. Phoenixes were very rare in Siberia.