There'll be killin's next!

Chapter 3: Rubeus Hagrid

He's thinking, Aragog won't even say the name of the monster that lurks in the Chamber of Secrets, and Acromantula can take care of themselves, they're not afraid of anything in the Forbidden Forest except the Centaurs - the monster must be something really nasty, something really vicious, if it can frighten even the spiders. And the spiders are leaving the castle, just like they did last time, all afternoon he's been watching them leave the castle and head into the Forest.

The monster, whatever it is, is cunning – it attacked Penelope Clearwater and Hermione Granger while the castle was deserted, it attacked when almost everybody was out on the Quidditch pitch ... and thank Merlin the girls aren't dead, as soon as Professor Snape can brew the Mandrake Restorative Draught they'll be right as rain, but how long will it be before there's another attack? How long before a Muggle-born is killed? The whole castle is in an uproar, the governors of the school and the Ministry have been informed - and Dumbledore says that the Minister for Magic himself is coming to Hogwarts, the Minister wants to see him. The last time they broke his wand but he was allowed to stay at Hogwarts – but this time it could be worse, he might be sent away from Hogwarts, and then where would he go? Last time it was only expulsion, because he was still a kid, and Tom had stood up for him, said that he hadn't meant any harm, said that he hadn't meant for the girl to be killed, but this time it could be something worse.

He thinks, I dunno, Tom was a prefect and Head Boy ... and he seemed decent enough to me, all the teachers liked Tom, not just his Head of House, Professor Slughorn - Tom was a great favourite of the Defence teacher, old Professor Merrythought, and he was the Head of Ravenclaw. And all the good-looking girls were after Tom, even Minerva McGonagall - but if Dumbledore says Tom Riddle is ... him, if Dumbledore says that Tom Riddle is You-Know-Who, then it must be so. Dumbledore wouldn't say it, if it wasn't so.

Then he thinks about the monster again, it must be something truly horrible, a Dark creature - not like Fluffy or Norbert, because Fluffy was a great big softy, really. Well, he was a Cerberus and a trained guard-dog, and he'd go for anyone he didn't know, but apart from that he was as big a sook as Fang ... And as for dragons, well, they're seriously misunderstood creatures - they don't bother anyone who doesn't bother them first, and they've got to eat, haven't they?

He remembers the summer holidays before the year his dad died, as a special treat they'd gone on a camping trip to Wales, it's the only time he's ever Apparated – Side-Along Apparition, of course – because he'd been expelled in third year, and so he'd never qualified for the licence. They'd camped rough, sleeping under cloaks propped on sticks, but it had been a wonderful time together, and he can still remember his first dragon - the Welsh Green cob that roared overhead one morning, far larger, louder and more impressive than any Muggle aeroplane he'd ever seen. The dragon had been flying very low, and as it passed overhead it had spouted thin jets of fire and barrel-rolled - and he'd seen that it had a sheep clamped in its talons. His dad had said, That's a male on a courtship flight, trying to impress his lady friend - he's taking her a present, to prove that he can bring food to the nest when there's chicks to feed. And he'd known then, with absolute certainty, what he was going to do when he graduated from Hogwarts – work at the Transylvanian Dragon Research and Breeding Facility, the world-famous reservation for Hungarian Horntails, the most dangerous dragons in the world.

He sniffs a little, remembering Norbert, he'd known straightaway what it was when he'd got the precious bundle back to his hut and unwrapped it – only Ridgebacks have black eggs. There'd been the anxious weeks stoking the fire - luckily he didn't have to worry about over-heating it, the hotter a dragon egg is, the quicker it hatches – before the little tyke cracked his egg ... and then an even more anxious time until he could see that Norbert was thriving, because brandy and blood is only an approximation of the stuff the mothers regurgitate for their chicks until they can take solid food. He thinks, it broke me heart to part with the dear little fella ... worst day of me life really, apart from the day me Dad died, the day I got expelled from Hogwarts, and the day I had ter take little Harry to the house of those ruddy awful Muggles ...

Then Fang whimpers in his basket, to tell him that there's something moving in the darkness outside the hut, and instinctively he grips the stock of his cross-bow, because he's not much of a wizard, he can do a few simple spells – Engorgement Charms and the like – but he only got a couple of years of education and there's not a lot that you can do with a broken wand, anyway. But with his cross-bow he could stop a charging Hippogriff in its tracks, not that he'd ever want to, they're magnificent creatures and easy enough to handle if you just treat them with respect ...

There's a tap on the door, and his heart leaps into his mouth, it must be the Minister! But he's not opening his door, unarmed, to anyone - not after dark and with a monster on the loose - so he still has his cross-bow in his hands when he flings the door open, Fang barking loudly at his heels.

It's Harry and Ron, what are they up to? And they'd better not be here when Fudge arrives, Merlin knows what he might think, luring students out of the castle after curfew ... it wouldn't look good, would it?

Distractedly, he makes tea, slices some fruitcake ... and then there's another knock at the door. The kids bundle themselves into a corner, under Harry's dad's old Invisibility Cloak, and he opens the door again. And this time it is the Minister – and Dumbledore. Well of course the Headmaster has come, Dumbledore knows that it wasn't Aragog, he's harmless, he never hurt that girl, never ...

"Bad business, Hagrid," says Fudge, in clipped, unfriendly tones. "Very bad business. Had to come. Four attacks on Muggle-borns. Things've gone far enough. Ministry's got to act."

He looks pleadingly at Dumbledore, protests his innocence - surely Dumbledore won't stand by and let the Minister send him away from Hogwarts ...

The Headmaster tells Fudge that he trusts him, but Fudge says something about his record – and the school governors. Dumbledore looks really angry, says that taking him away won't help ...

Take him away? Fudge is speaking again, says it's his duty to take him away.

"Take me?" he says, trembling. "Take me where?"

But he can guess the answer before Fudge gives it ...

"For a short stretch only," says Fudge, not meeting his eyes. "Not a punishment, Hagrid, more a precaution. If someone else is caught, you'll be let out with a full apology ..."

So it's Azkaban – Azkaban, the wizard prison, and he's heard about the Dementors that guard it. He's heard about how they suck the life out of a prisoner, how they feed on all your happy memories, until all you can think of is the most horrible thing that's ever happened to you. He thinks of the worst moment in his life, he's twelve years old and his Dad is dying in St Mungo's ... but maybe there's something even worse, the day his Mum left them - he can't really remember that day very well, he was only three, but he can remember that his Dad was really cut up about it ...

"Not Azkaban?" he croaks, numb and hopeless, because if he defies the Minister he'll only be in more trouble, they'll send the Aurors to arrest him, and then it will all come out about his Mum - and everyone will say that Dumbledore was wrong to trust him, wrong to give him a second chance, wrong to give a job to a vicious half-giant.

But before Fudge can say anything, there's another loud knock on the door, Dumbledore opens it, and Lucius Malfoy strides in, swathed in a long black travelling cloak.

He remembers the fight in Flourish & Blott – and he'd meant what he said about bad blood, Abraxas Malfoy had been a right arrogant git when he was at Hogwarts, Lucius Malfoy was just as bad, and young Draco is shaping up to be a chip off the old block – and every one of them a Slytherin, there's not even been a Ravenclaw amongst them! And it was Draco who went running to Professor McGonagall last year with a story about a dragon – he'd nearly got all of them into terrible trouble, 'cause the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures has a very bad attitude towards interestin' creatures.

He thinks, bloody Malfoys, the whole family is rotten to the core - damn and blast the lot of 'em! And then he says, furiously, "What're you doing here? Get outta my house!"

Malfoy looks contemptuously around his home – he'd dearly like to punch the man – says something dismissive, and then that he called at the school and was told that the Headmaster was here.

Dumbledore speaks politely. "And what exactly did you want with me, Lucius?" he asks.

"Dreadful thing, Dumbledore," Malfoy says, lazily, "But the governors feel it's time for you to step aside. This is an Order of Suspension – you'll find all twelve signatures on it. I'm afraid we feel you're losing your touch. How many attacks have there been now? Two more this afternoon, wasn't it? At this rate, there'll be no Muggle-borns left at Hogwarts, and we all know what an awful loss that would be to the school."

He struggles to take it in, Order of Suspension, what in Merlin's name does that mean?

The Headmaster is silent, Fudge is twittering away, Malfoy is saying something about Dumbledore failing to stop the attacks and all twelve of the governors have voted ... and now he understands – they're sacking Dumbledore! Have the governors gone mad? Do they want Muggle-borns attacked, killed?

He remembers the reports of the outcome of Malfoy's trial - splashed all over the Daily Prophet, it was - cleared of all charges on the grounds of bewitchment under the Imperius Curse, what a load of dung!

He leaps to his feet, his shaggy black head grazing the ceiling, and roars, "An' how many did yeh have to threaten an' blackmail before they agreed, Malfoy, eh?"

Malfoy sneers, says something about Azkaban, but Azkaban isn't important any more. Doesn't Fudge understand? Dumbledore is the greatest wizard in the world, the only wizard You-Know-Who ever feared – and without Dumbledore, anything could happen, there's dozens of Muggle-born students at Hogwarts, they'll be slaughtered, there'll be an attack a day with Dumbledore gone!

He shouts, "Yeh can' take Dumbledore! Take him away, an' the Muggle-borns won't stand a chance! There'll be killin's next!"

He's so distraught, he doesn't know what he might do, but Dumbledore is telling him, sharply, to calm down, and he subsides.

Dumbledore is looking at Malfoy, saying, "If the governors want my removal, I shall of course step aside."

He can't imagine Hogwarts without Dumbledore – in his mind, the two are inseparable - he growls, "No!"

But Dumbledore is speaking again, very slowly and clearly, and for a second he could swear that Dumbledore's eyes flicker towards the corner where Harry and Ron are hiding. "You will find that I will only truly have left this school when none here are loyal to me. You will also find that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."

He thinks, the Headmaster knows Harry and Ron are here, I bet a wizard as powerful as Dumbledore can see right through an Invisibility Cloak - great man, Dumbledore, the greatest Headmaster Hogwarts has ever had. He's telling the kids something important, I don't understand it myself, but it's important ...

Malfoy is bowing and smirking, and showing Dumbledore out the door - he's as pleased as Punch – and Malfoy's the one who ought to be in Azkaban, the nasty Muggle-hating bastard!

Fudge is fiddling with his bowler hat, waiting for him ... but he's hesitating, he has important information, too. Then he says, carefully, "If anyone wanted to find out some stuff, all they'd have ter do would be ter follow the spiders. That'd lead em right! That's all I'm sayin'."

Fudge is looking at him as if he's gone bonkers ...

"All right, I'm comin'," he says, as he pulls on his moleskin overcoat. But as he's about to follow Fudge through the door he remembers Fang. "An' someone'll need to feed Fang while I'm away," he says, loudly.

The Transylvanian Dragon Research and Breeding Facility is borrowed, with thanks, from Crookshanks22's story "A Romance with Dragons".