A/N: Written for QLFC Round 5 by Chaser 1 for Montrose Magpies.

Prompt: Write about a character demonstrating resilience after a personal trauma or tragedy

Optional prompts: (word) influence; (word) difference; (object) thorn

Thank you to my amazing teammates for betaing this for me.

Word count: 2710

Rubeus frowned down at the plate in front of him. It was filled with his favourite food — shepherd's pie — yet he couldn't bring himself to take a second bite. He could hear the house-elves chattering away, their voices low and worried. They clearly did not believe his insistence that there was nothing wrong with the meal, although he was sure that it was delicious. He just couldn't stomach it. Had it been any other day, the idea of spending time in the kitchens, surrounded by the aroma of good food and a wide variety of herbs and spices, would have been like a dream come true. As it was, however, it was simply overwhelming.

Raising a hand to his face, he wiped at the inner corner of his eye and grimaced as his finger made contact with the sensitive skin. It felt dry and raw, as if it had been shorn back with sandpaper. After staying up all night sobbing into his pillow, plagued by the memory of the sound his wand had made when it was snapped in two, he supposed it had reason to.

In a matter of mere days, his whole world had fallen apart.

His parents would be so disappointed in him.

And so would Aragog, he thought. When it came down to it, that was the thing that bothered him the most. By taking him in, Rubeus had promised to look after him and make sure no harm would come to him. Instead, he had raised him to be domesticated and then let him run away into an unfamiliar forest that was filled to the brink with magical creatures that fought back and prey that ran away rather than standing still.

The Acromantula didn't know the first thing about surviving in the wild.

The only positive to the whole mess was that Headmaster Dippet had told him that he was allowed to eat breakfast in the kitchens with the house-elves rather than facing his peers in the Great Hall. He knew the older wizard was more concerned about his classmates than him, but that didn't make the privacy any less comforting.

Sliding a sliver of pork into his mouth, he realised that his food had started to cool. His fingers twitched, longing to reach for the wand that was no longer there. They had learned Warming Charms a few days prior, and while he wasn't much good at them yet, it would have been the perfect chance to practice.

Key words: would have. Past tense, then and forevermore.

He put his knife and fork down. Even the mere thought of eating more made him feel like retching.

"Mr Hagrid."

Flinching in surprise, Rubeus tore his gaze away from his mostly-untouched meal and turned in his chair to see Albus Dumbledore standing in the doorway. His usually vibrant robes were, instead, a dusty silver, and when Rubeus met his piercing blue eyes, he was taken aback by the sorrow that lurked in their depths. It seemed that the Transfiguration professor cared a great deal about Rubeus' expulsion.

"Professor Dumbledore," Rubeus said, his voice raspy and quiet.

"I was very sorry to hear about the Ministry's decision." He gestured to the empty seat beside the boy. "May I join you?"

Rubeus didn't really want him to — the professor was yet another reminder of everything he was about to lose — but the man had always been kind to him, and he didn't want to repay that by being rude now. Nodding, he moved his glass of pumpkin juice to his other side so that it was not in the professor's way.

As Dumbledore lowered himself into the seat, a house-elf came running over, wringing her hands together even as she beamed with unrestrained joy. "Would you be wanting something to eat or drink, Professor Dumbledore, sir? Twinkles would be honoured to get it for you."

"Chamomile tea would be lovely, Twinkles. Mr Hagrid, would you like anything else?"

"No, thank you."

Dumbledore turned back to the house-elf with a fond smile. "Thank you very much for thinking of me."

The moment the words left his mouth, the other house-elves immediately started attending to the beverage. Within minutes, the cup was sitting in front of the professor, steam gently rising from the amber liquid. Their strange mix of eagerness and starry-eyed nerves would have been endearing had Rubeus not felt so dismal inside.

"You should know that I believe you."

Rubeus looked up in disbelief, watching the man drink his tea as casually as if they were discussing their weekends rather than his conviction. After thinking that everybody would trust him only to have them accuse him of murder, it was strange to think of someone genuinely listening to him. "Why?"

The man shook his head. "It is a long story, and it is one that we would do best not to get into today. Suffice it to say that I know things, and that those things do, on rare occasions, prove to be quite useful."

The corners of Rubeus' lips slowly stretched into a smile. It was small, and it felt wrong after spending the night crying, but it was real. "An' one o' those things says I'm innocent?"

"And that your pet is as well." A moment later, however, Dumbledore broke the positive mood that had swelled within Rubeus at his words. "Bringing him into the school was a reckless decision, and I cannot overturn the headmaster's decision to expel you. Nevertheless, I spoke to him about your situation, and we came to an agreement. He is willing to allow you to stay at Hogwarts as Ogg's assistant. If you accept, Ogg will teach you the trade of groundskeeping so that you can take his place as Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts once he retires. You will receive free food and board, of course, and be paid a decent salary."

At first, all Rubeus could do was blink. This was the second time that Albus Dumbledore had used his growing influence to advocate on the half-giant's behalf — first, for the right to go to school, and second, now that he had messed that up, for the opportunity to stay, even if it was not as a student. It was an amazing offer. Since the Ministry had been seriously discussing sentencing him to Azkaban at one stage, it was far better than he could have hoped. Even so, the idea was daunting. It would mean constantly seeing his old classmates as they studied and learned things that would forever be barred to him. It would mean walking amongst people who hated or feared him for something he didn't even do. It would mean watching them all move on while he was stuck there, always to stay in the place that had rejected him.

The professor's eyebrows furrowed. "You do not need to decide today. It is an enormous decision; you may take as long as you like."

"No," Rubeus said, leaning forward in his seat. "I wan' ter do it."

It was impulsive, but at the same time, he knew it was true. A little bit of Hogwarts was better than no Hogwarts at all. If he went home without even trying to stay, he would always regret it.

Dumbledore's face cleared, and a broad smile settled on his face. "Excellent. I am proud of you, my boy. Facing one's fears is always a difficult task, but it is usually a most rewarding one. I look forward to the day that you can look around you and see a kingdom built out of the bricks you shaped from your fears."

In that moment, Rubeus decided that Albus Dumbledore was the greatest man alive. "I will, sir. I promise yeh; I will."

"Very well. Oh — before I leave, there is one more thing." Reaching a hand into his dusty silver robes, Dumbledore pulled out the broken pieces of Rubeus' wand and placed them on the table between them. "I asked the Minister for Magic if I could return this to you. They are useless in their current state, of course, but I thought it was important for you to have them."

"Thank you," Rubeus said, gingerly reaching out to touch one of the pieces. The wood was slightly warm against his fingers, but it wasn't the hum of magic that he had grown accustomed to feeling whenever he picked up his wand.

After finishing the rest of his drink, the professor stood up and made his way to the door. Before he reached the threshold, he turned and inclined his head so that he was staring at Rubeus over the top of his half-moon spectacles. "It was most peculiar, but despite being adamant that a broken wand could never be restored, the Minister for Magic did tell me to caution you not to experiment with them. Why that would concern her if there is no risk of something happening, I have no idea. Politicians are the most interesting of creatures, are they not?"

-x-

Five weeks later

Rubeus slipped the pieces of his wand back into his pocket as he reached the hut where Ogg lived. For the past few weeks, he had been carrying them around with him wherever he went like some kind of lucky charm. He knew that Professor Dumbledore had been trying to tell him something with his cryptic last words, but he had no idea what. Still, it was nice to have the pieces back, even if it wasn't quite the same as the real thing.

Pushing the subject from his mind, he turned his attention to the building in front of him. Small, wooden, and perfect, it had become the base of operations where they met each morning, the crackling fire staving off the cold as they discussed the tasks that had to be done that day. Rubeus had been amazed at the sheer volume of work that occurred without the children's knowledge. Going from a student to a full-time employee overnight had been eye-opening — and exhausting. His muscles, strained by all of the physical exertion, frequently protested against the change. On the whole, however, Rubeus didn't mind. Ogg was gruff, but he had an extensive knowledge of the grounds and all of the creatures that lived there; as long as they were being productive, he was willing to answer any of the boy's questions in great detail.

"Rubeus," Ogg said a few moments later, after the boy had knocked on the door and waited for the familiar sound of his mentor's quick footsteps walking across the hard floor to slow to a stop. "You've finished fixing the benches?"

"Yes, sir," Rubeus replied as he entered the hut and put the hammer and remaining nails away in their proper place. That morning, Ogg had shown him how to do it by hand before leaving him to finish the job while he attended to the tasks that he had deemed too dangerous for the fourteen-year-old. Rubeus had been disappointed at the decision — in his experience, the things and creatures that people called dangerous were usually the most fun — but had conceded with only minimal protest.

"Good lad."

The words were simple and brusque, but Rubeus' chest swelled with pride. Even from the short time they had spent together, he knew that Ogg wasn't one for false praise. "Did yeh tell Headmaster Dippet tha' we know who trashed 'em?"

"We don't know," Ogg corrected him. "We suspect. That might be enough for us, but it isn't for the headmaster. Not without proof that we don't have and can't get. But, yes, I did tell him, and he said he'll tell all of the professors to keep an eye on them. In the meantime, I cast Strengthening Spells on all of the timber so that it doesn't happen again."

Rubeus nodded as he took in the new information. Professors, he was learning, knew far more about the castle and its inhabitants than he had realised. His former peers — and Rubeus himself, he supposed — weren't anywhere near as good at hiding things as they thought they were.

He had found that one out first-hand. Whenever he passed by his former classmates, they would stop talking and immediately look away, pretending to be studying or doing whatever other excuse they had close at hand. He could tell they were trying to be subtle; perhaps, if it had only happened once or twice, they would have been. But, given how frequently it occurred, it was clear that there was a pattern and that that pattern revolved around him. He was willing to bet, however, that if someone asked any of the students whether they thought he had noticed them avoiding him, they would say no.

The difference in perspective was astounding.

"What d'you wan' me ter do next?" he asked, not wanting his thoughts to linger on that topic any longer than they already had. The way the students dismissed him was hard to take sometimes. He had always been an outsider, but now, he didn't even fit into that category properly. He was at Hogwarts, yet he wasn't. He was in a position of authority, yet he wasn't. He was a wizard, yet he wasn't. It was easier to ignore the things that he couldn't change and focus on those that he did have some semblance of control over — like continuing to prove himself worthy of the faith Professor Dumbledore had placed in him.

Ogg sighed and gestured for Rubeus to follow him to the table, which was filled with some kind of plant with long green stalks and fluffy white flowers that looked more like a kitten's fur than petals. Two gleaming silver knives sat at one edge of the table. "Francesca — you would still know her as Professor Andretti — needs three thousand robestelle thorns for her first years tomorrow. I went out to the forest this morning to harvest the plants, but we still need to strip the thorns and take them up to her office. I would just use my wand, but they can't be exposed to magic until they're in the potion, or else they will lose their magical properties. The Herbology students usually do them by hand, but William — Professor Isaacs — said they won't be able to this year because of the new curriculum. I don't know why they don't just buy them, but that's bureaucracy for you."

"What's bureaucracy?" Rubeus asked, struggling to replicate the unfamiliar world.

Ogg peered at him thoughtfully. Rubeus had grown accustomed to that look; it was the one he gave him whenever he remembered just how young his protégé was. "I'll explain that as we work."

Settling into one of the hard wooden seats, he watched as Ogg picked up a knife and ran it along the stem of the plant in one smooth motion. Then, turning the robestelle slightly each time, he repeated the action three more times. When he was finished, ten green thorns were laying on the table between them. "Are you ready to try it?"

Rubeus nodded and picked up the other knife. Selecting another of the strange plants, he slowly ran the blade down the long stem. It took him longer than it had taken Ogg, and the motion was nowhere near as steady, but he too soon had a small pile of robestelle thorns sitting in front of him.

"Good work," Ogg said. "I'm sorry — this is going to take a while — but once we're done, you can have the rest of the afternoon off."

"Tha's fine," Rubeus replied, genuinely meaning it. Despite the tedium that he knew lay before them, he couldn't help but smile as Ogg started to explain the word bureaucracy and how it applied to the current situation. After all, no matter how painful it was to work at a school of magic while, effectively, living as a Squib, he knew he would never again consider leaving. He was exactly where he wanted to be; the wizarding world was all he had ever known, and he loved it dearly. In light of that, everything else was manageable.

A/N: I didn't include this as it didn't fit the story thematically, but the way I envision the wand thing going is that, after Rubeus puts the pieces together (literally and figuratively) and acquires his pink umbrella, he starts playing more attention to how Ogg does things when he isn't teaching him so that he can secretly replicate it as well.