A/N: Cute little fic about Hagrid feeding the threstrals. RxR. FxF. I do not own Harry Potter.
Prompt: Write about Hagrid
Chapter 2: Gentle Yet Misunderstood
The sun rose over the tall trees of the Forbidden Forest but Hagrid had already been out and about for an hour now. There was so much that had to be done as the Game Keeper of Hogwarts. He had already tended to the Blast-Ended Skrewts, the tips of his fingers already wrapped in burn-cream-soaked bandages. He had milked the flobberworms, some of their juices getting into his long fuzzy beard. He would take a shower after he was done with his morning chores. He had tilled his garden, the pumpkins still not big enough for the Halloween feast. But they had a month to go so he wasn't worried.
Now as he walked into the forest with the orange light spilling through the leaves, he smiled to himself. He liked this time of the day the most. The nocturnal animals were going to sleep and the others were just waking up. He was relatively safe now as long as he didn't stumble into anyone's home.
Fang bounded ahead of him, trampling some of the leaves that had fallen to the forest floor. "Git back 'er yeh mangy dog!" Hagrid called out but his words went unheeded as the boarhound leapt through the short shrubs. Hagrid chuckled to himself, shouldering his burden a little higher. That dog was always getting into trouble but he loved him, as he loved all animals.
There was just something about animals that brought joy to Hagrid's heart. Maybe it was because he was technically 'half-animal', though he never felt that way. But he did sympathize with the animals. They were feared because they were understood. No one ever tried to get to know the animals and they continued to ignore or hurt them because they could. But Hagrid took the time to learn their ways, to talk to him and to gain their trust. They loved Hagrid as much as he loved them. The burns on his fingers twinged a bit as his hand grazed the trunk of a gnarly tree. Maybe not those Blast-End Skrewts, but they hated everyone.
Fang barked when he saw his master enter the clearing and Hagrid let out a booming laugh to match. He threw his burden onto the ground. Placing his fingers into his mouth, ignoring the stinging, he let out a loud whistle. There was rustling in the bushes lining the edge of the clearing as Hagrid bent low into the bags he had brought.
The mysterious winged horses came close to him, the coppery smell of blood drawing them out of hiding. A few of them neighed, smelling the air about them, while others pawed the ground. Their black, leathery skin stretched-tightly over their emaciated forms as they threw their heads back.
Hagrid threw the large slabs of meat out towards the animals. They were such gentle creatures who moved in herd and looked out for their young. He watched as one of the mothers ripped a chunk of meat from the large slab to feed her foals.
Hagrid took a seat on an overturned log, the bag of meat still at his feet as he threw the pieces into the herd. There was a soft sound on his right and a small foal had gotten close to him. Such an inquisitive creature. He sniffed about Hagrid's hands and feet before realizing the lovely smell was coming from his bloody satchel.
Hagrid reached in a pulled out an aquedately sized chunk of meat and held it out to the baby threstral. The creature came forward, snatching the meat from his outstretched hand and dropping it onto the ground before eating it. Hagrid smiled and rubbed a large hand over the foal's body. Such gentle yet misunderstood creatures.
