Hello everyone! I'm back with Quidditch League again, my third season as Captain of the Wimbourne Wasps. Round 1 of Season 8 is underway, and Wasps are prepared to take back their crown once again!
Round one is based on Jung character archetypes. The Captain position has been given the archetype of "The Hero", and we have been given simple tasks based on their fears and goals and have to choose which we will use. Hero has "weakness" as a fear, and "changing the world" as their goal. I chose weakness, and have come up with a wonderful idea, so let's go on and get Season 8 off to a great start!
Word Count: 2396
Rubeus Hagrid had never fit in with other magical children he met. Whether it was during trips to the grocery with his father or on his own at the playground, he was simply so big that everyone was scared of him. As he stared around him at the other students waiting to be Sorted, he could tell that the same thing was happening now. He could feel the eyes on him, but they were the least of worries compared to the Sorting.
He was completely unsure where he would be Sorted. His father had been in Gryffindor, so that was a possible option. But he wasn't brave, or if he was, it was his size that gave him that courage. His mother was a giantess and so she had never gone to Hogwarts. That worried him. Giants were regarded as evil beings. What would his fellow students say when they found out he was related to one? Surely he'd be Sorted in Slytherin if the person Sorting realized he was half-giant?
Finally, the Deputy Headmaster, a quiet young man Hagrid didn't know, came into the Entrance Hall and said, "All right, students. It's time to be Sorted; proceed into the Great Hall."
Most of the students were pushed along in the shuffle, but Hagrid lingered, waiting for the others to pass. As they did, he fell in behind everyone. He always tried to avoid causing trouble in crowds.
The Deputy Headmaster led them into the Great Hall, and Hagrid couldn't help but stare around him in wonder. His dad had told him stories about how amazing Hogwarts was, but seeing the Great Hall, he was truly struck by it. He felt like this was someplace he could find a home.
As he headed through the Hall, he stared at the rows of older students. One, in particular, caught his eye. He couldn't have been more than twelve, maybe thirteen. His expression, however, held untold malice. Hagrid also felt an unmistakable pull towards the boy. He couldn't figure out what it was, but he made a resolution to stay away from him at all costs.
Hagrid ended up Sorted into Slytherin house. That also happened to be where the mysterious boy was Sorted. A second-year told him the boy's name was Tom Riddle. He was nice enough, but some people had claims of mistreatment from him (none confirmed, of course). Hagrid didn't encounter him again until the end of his first year—not that it was a difficult feat. By then, Tom was fourteen, going into his fourth year, and Hagrid was a lowly incoming second year. No one accepted him. He had one friend, a Hufflepuff student named Pomona. They'd bonded over their love of the mysterious (Hagrid of animals, Pomona of plants). Other than her, Hagrid was essentially avoided.
Hagrid had an opportunity to change that the day they left for summer vacation. He was pulling his trunk down a flight of steps, hoping the staircase wouldn't move and cause him to be late for the train. He had to make sure all his animals in the forest would be alright until he returned in September, but it had taken a lot of time. He was so preoccupied he didn't notice anyone else, at least until someone came up beside him. "Hello, Hagrid. Running late, are you?"
Hagrid didn't look over to see who it was right away. He didn't need another black mark on his record, and he wondered why this kid was waylaying him when they would both miss the train before long. "I am, an' apparently you are too."
The student grabbed his arm. "But this is the perfect time to chat."
"No, it ain't," Hagrid argued. "Stop hasslin' me." He finally turned to see who was holding him up, surprised to find Tom Riddle. Hagrid never expected Riddle to speak with the likes of him except to tell him to get out of the way.
"Won't you hear me out?" Tom asked, seemingly innocently. Despite the rumors, this boy had as of yet given him little reason to mistrust him. Something about him, however, was telling him to walk away. He didn't listen to it.
"All righ'," Hagrid agreed. "S'long as it don't take long."
"It won't, I promise," Tom said. "I simply wanted to offer you a place in my group of friends."
Hagrid was speechless. Talking momentarily to this popular and well-liked boy was one thing, but being offered a place among his friends was an entirely different situation. He finally managed to ask, "But-but why me? There's gotta be plenty o' other people yeh could ask?"
Tom rolled his eyes as he said, "They're all boring. They want to be near me because that makes them more important. You, though… there's something about you I like. You're different from the yes-men who try to cozy up to me. I want you in my group."
Hagrid considered for a moment. What would happen if he joined? He imagined random students greeting him in the halls, no teachers calling him a dunce when he couldn't master the new spells as quickly as the others. And a group of friends who would all see him as something special, not a freak.
"Can my friend Pomona join yeh too?" he asked. As much as he wanted to be liked and appreciated, he didn't want to leave his only friend.
For a moment, Tom didn't seem to know who he was talking about. Finally, he showed a flicker of recognition. "Oh, the Sprout girl in Hufflepuff? Sure, that shouldn't be a problem. But she might not want to come, my group is specifically Slytherins. Even if she did, she would feel out of place. By all means, ask her, but don't be surprised if she refuses. Are you in, though?"
For a moment, Hagrid hesitated. What if Tom was right? What if Pomona didn't want to be part of this boy's group? She was always saying how she couldn't care less about being liked as long as she had him and her plants.
Finally, the lure of having more friends drew him in. "All righ'. I'll join yeh."
Pomona did not want to join Tom's group. "Are you mad?" she asked him when he broke the news to her on the train later that day. "Why would you do something like that, Rubeus? Our friendship isn't that more important than having a lot of friends?"
Hagrid could barely look her in the eyes. "I'm sorry, Pomona. I jus'... I'm jus' so tired o' everyone treatin' me like a freak. I wan' them to like me."
Pomona stared at the ground as she said, "Aren't I enough? What matters what they all say? I like you, and I don't think you're a freak. Is popularity more important than me?"
Hagrid felt completely horrible. He hadn't expected this reaction from her. Sure, he knew she didn't really care what anyone thought. Sometimes, he envied her for it.
Before he could speak, she continued. "Besides, I've been hearing some horrible rumors about some of the kids in that group. Nicolette told me Burke tried to assault her, and Bradley was supposedly going to do some horrible spell on a third year, but he got turned in. And don't even get me started on Tom."
Hagrid hadn't heard of these rumors and didn't know what to say. "Pomona, I can' stand another year like this one. Bein' ridiculed and mocked, it's awful. You know it would be worse if anyone foun' out abou' my mum. If I make friends with Tom, I can stop tha' from happenin'."
Pomona gave him a cold look. "I never thought you were so shallow and weak. Join them if you want, but I want no part of it. Hagrid stood, sadly watching his only friend walk away."
The next couple of years came and went quite happily for Hagrid, with only a few dark spots to mar it. The summer after his first year was so lonely, Hagrid felt it like a weight on his chest. He wrote Pomona several times, hoping to convince her to change her mind, but she never responded. He didn't know Tom's address to write to him, either, so he was stuck alone. His father tried to draw him out, but it was rare that he left the house that summer.
When he returned to Hogwarts, there was a drastic change in the way people saw him. As he'd envisioned, people greeted him as he walked in the hallways. He sat with Tom and the other members of their group at meals, and they got together and did homework or just talked.
For Hagrid, it was exactly what he'd imagined. The only thing that ruined it was that, sometimes, at meals, he would catch a glimpse of Pomona at the Hufflepuff table. She sat with a friend but was otherwise alone. He stared guiltily at his large group and wished she had changed her mind. But he wouldn't change his choice. Life was just how he'd hoped it would be when he became friends with Tom Riddle.
The next spring, he got a letter telling him that his father had died. It was such a shock, Hagrid couldn't believe it. He thought of going to Tom, but he knew that the older boy would not care much. So he went to the only person he could.
"Pomona!" he frantically called to her as he saw her leaving the Hufflepuff Common Room. She didn't react. "Pomona! Please!"
She must have heard the desperation in his voice. "Rubeus, what do you want? I told you-" Her usual cold demeanor was dropped, concern etched across her face as she realized he was crying. "What happened?"
He was unable to answer through his tears and grief, so he just handed her the letter. Reading it, her face became full of sorrow. "Oh, I'm so sorry." She embraced him, at least as much as she could given their size difference. "If there's anything I can do, please just say it."
Hagrid knew that his moment of weakness had shown his new friendships for what they were—shallow and weak, as Pomona had said. "I wan' out of this!" he cried, "Bu' it's nearly the end of the school year. I can' jus' do it now."
"Save it till next year," Pomona told him. "Gives you plenty of time to think of a safe way to do it. I know you hear the escalating rumors about the things those guys are doing."
Hagrid had indeed, and it had made him extremely uncomfortable. However, he hadn't had the courage to say anything to them, either to verify or tell them to stop. He knew that many of them were Pureblood fanatics, Tom chief among them. It was why he hadn't told them of his giant heritage. He knew that they would despise him as much as they did the Muggle-borns.
"Thanks, Pomona," he said, finally calming. Next year. Next year, things would change again.
That summer, he found his Acromantula friend, Aragog. He wasn't very big at first, but by the end of the summer, he was as big as a dinner plate. All through the following school year, he grew until he was as big as a hubcap.
And Hagrid remained part of Tom's group. After several letters back and forth with Pomona, they agreed that if he stayed in the group, he could spy on them and try to find out how many of the rumors were true. This was the year that Tom started using the name "Lord Voldemort". He said it was an anagram of his name, and that whenever the group was alone, he was to be called that.
Pomona laughed when he told her. "Wow, a bit out there, isn't it?" Hagrid didn't understand, so she explained. "Voldemort is quite mangled French for flight of death. It's basically saying that he is trying to avoid death. You haven't heard anything that would explain that?"
"No," Hagrid answered. "They don' tell me as much as they used to, but I know 'e's gatherin' more students. E's callin' us "Death Eaters".
"There again with the death," Pomona mused. "Can you just ask things? Or are you not high up enough?"
Hagrid shrugged. "I can try, but if I'm caught, I don' think I'll like the consequences."
"Be careful," was all Pomona could say, and there was every reason for it. A monster was lurking around the castle these days. Several students had already been Petrified. Hagrid kept Aragog in his trunk, as he knew that people would think he was the monster if they found out about him.
Hagrid was caught. Really, it was no surprise. He might have had the cunning of a Slytherin, but he was big and had a hard time controlling his limbs. After overhearing lots of dangerous things (like how Tom wanted to take over the Wizarding World and subjugate the Muggles and Muggle-borns), Hagrid decided that he'd risked enough for the night. As he started to leave, he knocked over a suit of armor. Wincing, he prayed the people inside hadn't heard him. It didn't work.
"What was that?" someone asked. The door opened, and Tom stood there, silhouetted by lantern light from within.
"Hagrid?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"
Hagrid knew he should have stayed. He should have tried to smooth things over and explain that he'd just been passing and knocked into the armor. He knew any excuse he could come up with would be pretty lame, however, and so he did the only thing he could think of. He ran. He heard the pursuing footsteps of Tom and knew that it would only be a matter of time before he caught up. Dashing through the halls, he hurried to the room where he kept Aragog. It wasn't far from the dungeons where the Slytherin Common Room was. Hurrying in, he locked it with a Colloportus spell. He doubted it would work long, but it would at least give him time to come up with something better. Unfortunately, he was unable to.
As Tom opened the door, Hagrid knew it was over. All the things he'd wanted—popularity, friends, acceptance— they could not help him now.
He'd been weak for too long.