The lake was beautiful, sparkling blue in the morning sun. Near the shore, lily pads bobbed, and frogs sang amongst the huge lily blossoms that dotted the surface of the lake like a pink, gold and white patchwork quilt. Fish jumped up from the water, scattering rainbow drops. Out in the middle of the lake, Helgarda thought she saw a pink tentacle flicking bubbles from the surface: was that the giant squid?
She walked along the shore, towards the lilies. A sound caught her sharp hearing: somewhere, someone was weeping. She stood still and let the breeze carry the direction to her. Over there, sheltered in a little group of shrubs…
Quietly she walked over and looked down from her great height, making no sound. The little Malfoy boy, Draco, sat bowed over his knees, his cloak wrapped tightly around himself. He was shivering, and he was crying silently. She could see the side of his face; he was as pale as cheese, his eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and large tears dripped down his face.
Helgarda parted the bushes, squatted down and gathered the crying child into her lap. At first he stiffened, then he curled against her like a puppy, and sobbed as if his heart was breaking. Helgarda ran her fingers through his silky flaxen hair and gently rubbed his back. The sobs slowed, and then ceased. Helgarda drew her kerchief from her reticule and began to pat the little boy's face dry. He looked up at her with red-rimmed eyes. "You-you're not going to beat me?" he whispered. There was terror in his face, and he trembled.
"Beat you? Absolutely not! You shamed yourself yesterday in atonement for your dishonour to a fellow student; surely that's punishment enough!"
Draco squirmed. "I'm too old to be sitting in somebody's lap like a baby," he complained.
Helgarda shifted Draco in her lap; the child weighed nothing. "I don't think you were held enough when you were a baby," she said. She poked his ribs: "You're too thin; don't you get enough to eat?" she asked.
"I lose my appetite," said Draco, head down, his chest still heaving occasionally. He looked up at her. "I don't understand," he said. "You caught me setting up Potter. I'd think you would have beaten me black and blue – you're not a Professor here; all they can do is give detention and extra homework. You…" His voice trailed off. He put his face in his hands. "Everyone hates me," he whispered in a tiny voice.
Helgarda lifted him up and held him against her shoulder. "You give them good reason to be angry with you," she said. "Nobody likes to be told they're stupid, and nobody likes cruel pranks played on them. What has filled you so full of meanness?"
Draco gave a terrible shudder. Helgarda put her hand under his chin and looked into his pinched little face. "What is it?" she asked him. "Why are you so frightened? What has happened to you, that you fear so much that you can't eat? "
Draco clung to her shoulder. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he said.
"I would believe you," Helgarda said. Her eyes narrowed. She was no Seer, but she felt things keenly; something awful had happened to this boy. He had suffered terrible pain and disgrace. "You've been beaten, many times," she said, and as she watched his face crumple, she felt the sorrow and shame surrounding him like a dark cloud. "Worse," she said, "worse and worse; you've been raped. Odin!" she shouted, and shook her fist at the sky. "Father One-Eye, where were you when this your child was tormented?"
Draco looked up at her, agape. "Odin," he whispered.
"Yes," said Helgarda. "If I am not mistaken, Odin the One-Eyed is your protector, and it is time you came to know him."
"How do you know?" the child asked. He leaned against Helgarda's warm bosom, and the colour began slowly to return to his cheeks.
Helgarda took Draco's hands in her own, and turned them over. She ran her hand over his skull, and looked at the shape of his ears. Then she smiled, and began to slowly rock him in her lap. "I know, I know many things," she murmured. "I can feel that you are Odin's child. My father, the great thane Ungarn Helmansson, is Odin's son as well – and you have his hands and his ears, Draco."
Draco's round blue-grey eyes almost popped from his head. "Your father's hands and ears?" he squeaked. "Everyone tells me I look just like my father!"
Helgarda smiled, rocking him. "Yes, I met your father last night, you do look very much like him. Your father, then, is also a child of Odin." She looked down at the long blonde eyelashes, now drooping heavy-lidded over the blue-grey eyes. "Draco, does your father know what you have suffered?"
The boy sat up straight in Helgarda's lap. He looked up at her, then down. "He's the one who does it," he whispered.
Helgarda clasped the boy against her shoulder. Tears welled up in her eyes and ran down her face; she began to wail unashamedly. Draco's eyes filled and he hung onto the half-giantess' neck and cried out his pain and misery.
The ground shook as heavy footsteps approached them. Helgarda looked up to see Hagrid bending over them incredulously. "Wot's this? Both of yer, cryin' her hearts out? Wot's happened?" Ponderously he lowered himself to the ground, and lifted both Helgarda and the boy in her lap into his arms. He rested his bearded cheek against Helgarda's golden head. "Now, now, sweet lady, tell me wot's happened." He carried them over to his cottage and set them on the steps, then pulled a huge red and white checked kerchief out of his vest pocket and gave it to Helgarda.
Sniffling, Draco climbed out of Helgarda's lap. He looked up at the half-giant. "Hagrid, you won't tell? Please, don't tell anyone you saw me crying."
"He has reason to cry," said Helgarda, wiping her eyes. With a great honking and snorting, she blew the stuffiness out of her nose. Draco was making use of Helgarda's kerchief, which she had put into his hand.
"Come on in, then, both of yer. Me kettle's boilin', and there's scones. Everythin' looks better over a cup o'tea." He stood up, put his arm around Helgarda and held out his hand to Draco.
"Er, Hagrid, are your scones like your rock cakes?" the boy asked, knowing the half-giant's usual unfortunate baking results. He looked up at Helgarda: "You have to be a giant to get your teeth into them."
"The house-elves from t'castle gave 'em to me, they're soft enough for the likes of ye," said Hagrid, as he opened the door to the cottage and ushered them inside. Helgarda looked around at the large, cosy room, noticing the sturdy table, the great oaken cupboards, the two big armchairs by the fire, the heavy iron pots and skillets hung on the walls.
"What a fine house!" she remarked. "It's so friendly and homelike. It reminds of my father's Hall, the rooms where our family lives – well, where we used to live."
"Make yerselves at home," boomed Hagrid, busy with a large teapot. He poured steaming tea into three enormous mugs and put them on the table, passing a milk pitcher and a honey-jar to Helgarda. Then, he brought over a great wooden board on which reposed a tremendous chunk of cheese, a jar of jam and a crock of clotted cream. Finally, Hagrid put a basket filled with the Hogwarts house-elves' famous raisin scones and the small, sweet red and yellow apples from the castle's orchards in the middle of the table. "Eat, boy," the half-giant said.
Tentatively, Draco took a piece of cheese. It was the fresh, soft white cheese served at breakfast time at Hogwarts. He bit into it, and his mouth watered instantly. The first piece of cheese was followed quickly by another piece of cheese, and in short order the boy had helped himself to a scone and was slathering it with cream and jam. His eyes closed as he took a big bite and experienced the flavours of crumbly scone, thick cream, and cherry jam all together.
Helgarda smiled; the child felt safe enough to nourish himself. She took a big swallow of the hot sweet tea and a mouthful of scone. Chewing contentedly, she looked over at Hagrid, who was making an odd sandwich of a scone, a large slab of cheese and another scone. He looked at her and chuckled. "Simple food's the best, ain't it?" he said.
"Yes, it certainly is," replied Helgarda. "You remind me so much of my brother Erik. He loves to eat two oatcakes with a great hunk of cheese in between, just as you do. You'd like him, Hagrid. He's a very brave man, but he's very gentle and loving."
Hagrid reddened. He reached for Helgarda's hand, and clasped it between his two big, warm paws. "I tries to be gentle," he said, "and I surely am loving." He looked down at the tabletop, then back up at the beautiful face in front of him. Helgarda was smiling, and her cheeks were a lovely pink. She squeezed his hand.
"You're a good man, Hagrid," she stated. "I am comfortable with you, as I am with my family, and I feel at home here, in your house." She moved a little closer to him. Draco ignored them; he was busily spooning jam onto his second scone. An apple core lay on his napkin.
Helgarda noticed that Fang had sat himself down next to the boy and rested his head on his knee. Every now and then, Draco fed the dog a little piece of cheese. I think he is happy, like any boy who feels safe and protected.
Hagrid poured more tea into Helgarda's mug. "I've lived here a very long time," he rumbled. "I made it comfortable for meself, and it's a cosy place. But it's big even for me," and he gestured to a curtained alcove.
"What's in there?" asked Helgarda.
"That's me chamber," said Hagrid. "I built the wardrobes, an' the chest o'drawers and the bedstead too." He looked at Helgarda. "There's plenty o'room to share," he said. "I would be honoured if ye would share it with me, Miss Helgarda."
Helgarda smiled. How lovely, that he could ask her straightforwardly to share his dwelling, not beat around the bush with fancy words and silly ideas! She reached for his hand and took it between hers.
"Hagrid, I would like to stay with you," she said. "Everyone at the castle has made me welcome, and they gave me a beautiful room and everything I could want – but your house feels like home." She gave his hand a good squeeze. "And you feel like home, too." She leaned over and kissed his cheek. The half-giant blushed bright red. His big square white teeth gleamed in his dark beard, and he leaned over to give her a kiss in return.
"Oh, yuck, you two are snogging," commented Draco, looking up from the remains of his feast.
Both Hagrid and Helgarda laughed. "There's people what are happy with each other, there is, boy, and they likes to show it," said Hagrid. "It's good to show someone ye care for how ye feel."
"Well, just don't start kissing me," stated the boy. "I've had all the hugging I can take today." He wiped his hands and face with his napkin. "Thank you, Hagrid. I haven't had a decent meal in I don't know how long." He hopped off his chair and walked around to Helgarda. "Thank you, Miss Helgarda. I'm not used to all this kindness, but I think I could get accustomed to it." He took her hand, bent over and kissed her fingers, just as he had seen his father do in polite company.
"That's a good boy," said Hagrid. "Ye come and visit me, Draco, whenever ye want to. Don't sit alone like a stone when ye're sad."
"I will, and thanks," answered Draco. He looked at the two half-giants. "I'm going to do some thinking," he said. With a last pat to Fang, he left the cottage, closing the door after himself.
Helgarda helped Hagrid to clear the table, and side-by-side they did the washing-up, chatting easily. Then, they sat down in front of the fire, and talked of the separate lives they had led up until this moment, when like called to like, and their hearts reached out to each other.
