ᴀ ᴅ ʀ ɪ ᴇ ɴ ɴ ᴇ [1]

04. crackpot old fool

chapter four

CRACKPOT OLD FOOL

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"LOAD OF OLD TOSH," says Uncle Vernon, and I jump, because I'd forgotten that the Dursleys were here. Uncle Vernon certainly seems to have gotten his courage back. He's glaring at Hagrid, his fists clenched.

"Now you listen here, you two," he snarls, "I accept there's something strange about you, probably nothing a good beating wouldn't have cured - and as for all this about your parents, well, they were weirdos, no denying it, and the world's better off without them in my opinion - asked for all they got, getting mixed up with these wizarding types - just what I expected, always knew they'd come to a sticky end-"

Hagrid leaps from the sofa, drawing a battered pink umbrella from inside his coat and pointing it right at Uncle Vernon.

"I'm warning you, Dursley - I'm warning you - one more word. . ."

In danger of being speared on the end of an umbrella by a bearded giant, Uncle Vernon'n courage fails again and he flattens himself back against the wall, silent.

"Tha's better," sighs Hagrid, sitting back down on the sofa, which sags right to the floor under his weight.

"But what happened to Vol- sorry, You-Know-Who?" asks Harry, wanting to know everything.

"Good question, Harry. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried ter kill you. Makes yeh even more famous. That's the biggest myst'ry, see ... he was gettin' more an' more powerful – why'd he go? Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say he's still out there, bidin' his time, like, but I don' believe it. People who was on his side came back ter ours. Some of 'em came outta kinda trances. Don' reckon they could've done if he was comin' back. Most of us reckon he's still out there somewhere but lost his powers. Too weak to carry on. 'Cause somethin' about you two finished him, Harry an' Ada. There was somethin' goin' on that night he hadn't counted on – I dunno what it was, no one does – but somethin' about you stumped him, all right."

Hagrid looks at Harry and I with some kind kind of warmth and respect blazing in his eyes. Instead of feeling proud or at least pleased, I feel guilty and as though there's been some terrible mistake.

Saying what it is I must be feeling, Harry looks sideways at me.

"Hagrid, I think there must be some kind of mistake. I mean - I can't be a wizard, and neither can Ada be a witch."

To my surprise, Hagrid chuckles.

"Not a wizard or witch, eh? Never made things happen when you was scared, or angry?"

I look into the fire. I can easily summon every incident to mind that occurred whenever I was feeling hurt, alone, scared, sad or angry . . . talking to snakes one summer on the coast . . . blasting the cupboard door off . . . throwing fire at Dudley . . . being chased by Dudley's gang and then suddenly finding myself out of their reach. . .

I smile, knowing Harry must be wrong. I look at him to tell him this, but he's smiling too.

"See?" says Hagrid, positively beaming. "Harry and Adrienne Potter, not a wizard or witch – you wait, you'll be right famous at Hogwarts."

"Haven't I told you they're not going?" hisses Uncle Vernon from the shadows. Clearly, he's not going down without a fight. "They're going to Stonewall High and they'll be grateful for it. I've read those letters and they needs all sorts of rubbish – spell books and wands and –"

"If they want ter go, a great Muggle like you won't stop 'em," grows Hagrid. "Stop Lily an' James Potters' children goin' ter Hogwarts! Yer mad. They're name's been down ever since they was born. They're off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and they won't know themselves. They'll be with youngsters of they're own sort, fer a change, an' they'll be under the greatest Headmaster Hogwarts ever had, Albus Dumbled–"

"I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH THEM MAGIC TRICKS!" yells Uncle Vernon at the top of his lungs.

It seems he's finally gone too far. Hagrid seizes his pink umbrella and whirls it over his head.

"NEVER -" he thunders, "INSULT - ALBUS - DUMBLEDORE - IN - FRONT - OF - ME!"

Hagrid brings his umbrella swooshing down, pointing at Uncle Vernon, and is opening his mouth when he is distracted by something over Uncle Vernon's shoulder.

I learn to the right to see Dudley, with his back to us, clearly in his own world, stuffing fistfuls of our birthday cake down his fat throat.

"HEY!" I yell, "That's mine!"

Dudley looks up, his round, pink face covered in green icing, and all of a sudden is engulfed with purple light. There is a sharp squeal, and next second, Dudley is dancing on the spot with his hands clasped over his fat bottom, howling in pain. When he turns his back, I see a curly pig's tail poking through a hole in his trousers, and burst out laughing.

Uncle Vernon roars. Pulling Aunt Petunia and Dudley up the stairs and into the other room, he casts one last terrified look at Hagrid and slams the door behind him.

Hagrid looks down at his umbrella and strokes his beard.

"Shouldn'ta lost me temper," he says ruefully, "but it didn't work anyway. Meant ter turn him into a pig, but I suppose he was so much like a pig anyway there wasn't much left ter do. Be grateful if yeh didn't mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts," he adds, throwing a sideways glance at Harry and I. 'I'm – er – not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin'. I was allowed ter do a bit ter follow yeh an' get yer letters to yeh an' stuff – one o' the reasons I was so keen ter take on the job –"

"Why aren't you supposed to do magic?" I ask, frowning at the guilty expression oh Hagrid's face.

"Oh, well – I was at Hogwarts meself but I – er – got expelled, ter tell yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wand in half an' everything. But Dumbledore let me stay on as gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore."

"Why were you expelled?" Harry aks.

"It's gettin' late and we've got lots ter do tomorrow," said Hagrid loudly and quickly. "Gotta get up ter town, get all yer books an' that."

He takes off his thick black coat and throws it to Harry and I.

"Yeh can kip under that,'' he says. "Don' mind if it wriggles a bit, I think I still got a couple o' dormice in one o' the pockets."

Harry and I lie down, in front of the fire, pulling the warm, cosy coat around us. It's extremely comfortable, and, for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, I fall straight to sleep, Harry next to me.

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PUBLISHED: 13.04.2020

EDITED: 27.12.2020

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hugs, bri ☽