Immortal Magic (Book 1)

Chapter Forty-Six

Allison's Point of View.

By the time lunch ended, rain had begun to patter steadily against the windows of Hagrid's cabin, turning the grounds outside grey and misty. The four of us stayed curled up in front of the fire while Hagrid poked at the flames with his pink umbrella, sparks dancing up the chimney.

Hermione, however, had not given up on S.P.E.W. "Hagrid, they deserve wages," she argued stubbornly, clutching the box of badges in her lap. "And proper holidays, and fair treatment," Hagrid snorted loudly.

"Yer not listenin', Hermione," he said, shaking his shaggy head. "House-Elves like workin'. They're happiest when they're lookin' after witches an' wizards."

"But that doesn't make it right!" Hermione protested. "It ain't cruelty if they love doin' it," Hagrid replied firmly. "Tryin' ter pay 'em'd insult 'em more than anythin'."

"Hagrid, Harry freed Dobby, and he was thrilled about it," Hermione insisted. "He even wanted wages!"

"Yeah, but Dobby came from the Malfoys," I pointed out, pulling my knees closer to my chest as I sat beside Harry near the fire. "Any elf would celebrate escaping that family." Harry nodded in agreement.

"Exactly," Hagrid said quickly. "Dobby's different. Most house-elves don't want freedom." Hermione huffed angrily and shoved the badge box back into her cloak.

"You're all impossible," she muttered. Ron grinned from where he was sprawled beside the hearth. "We prefer realistic."

Hermione shot him such a dangerous glare that he wisely looked away. Outside, the rain gradually darkened from drizzle to a cold autumn downpour. By half past five, the sky beyond Hagrid's windows was nearly black.

"We should head back soon," Hermione said, glancing outside. "The feast'll be starting."

"And the champions are being chosen tonight," Harry added, sounding nervous despite himself.

My stomach twisted slightly at the reminder.  The Tournament. Nothing about tonight felt right.

"I'll walk yeh back," Hagrid announced, hauling himself upright from his chair. "Jus' gimme a minute."

We waited while he disappeared into the back room. A second later, a horrendous smell drifted through the cabin. Ron gagged dramatically. "Blimey."

"What is that?" I coughed, wrinkling my nose. Hagrid reappeared, looking oddly embarrassed. "Er... Eau-de-Cologne," he muttered. Hermione blinked at him in astonishment.

"You're wearing cologne?" Hagrid rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Thought I'd make a bit o' effort."

"A bit?" Ron wheezed. "It's just... strong," I said diplomatically, though my enhanced senses made it feel like the scent was physically attacking me.

Hagrid mumbled something about washing some off before stomping outside toward the water barrel. Harry looked between all of us in confusion. "What's with the hair and the suit?" he asked.

Ron pointed dramatically out the window. "Look." We all turned just in time to see Hagrid straighten up hurriedly as Madame Maxime approached across the grounds, her enormous carriage looming behind her in the rain.

Hermione's eyes widened. "Oh my goodness." Hagrid's face turned crimson. "He's going with her," she whispered.

"I thought he was walking us back," Harry said blankly. I snorted softly and stood up, grabbing my cloak. "Come on. I think Hagrid has other priorities."

The four of us left the cabin and crossed the courtyard toward the castle while rain soaked the edges of our robes.

Ron, naturally, would not stop talking. "Hagrid fancies her," he whispered loudly. "Imagine if they had kids."