New plan:
Dear readers
After many years, I am returning to this fic, having been inspired by the great writing of Aspen in the Sunlight (Check out her "A Family Like None Other" series on AO3). I have removed all chapters after 14 and am rewriting them. However, I am having trouble posting them here. All new chapters are on An Archive Of Our Own (aka: AO3).
archiveofourown dot org/works/10067657/chapters/22434482
The process of formatting and uploading new chapters here is proving challenging to my particular tech (dis)abilitues, but I am trying to remember how I did it before.
tsuj
A/N: The jarvey and the moke both come from JKR's Mythical Beasts book. Little did I know that the moke would make a posthumous appearance in DH. As a vegetarian, I can't say as I liked this…poor moke.
Chapter 14: Why Ever Would You Think A Pet Jarvey Was A Good Idea?
Harry continued to make steady progress under Madam Pomfrey's tender yet firm care. His stamina increased slowly, and it was discovered quite by accident one afternoon when Bertrand Singh had come by for a visit that this was in direct proportion to the incremental fading of Harry's self-protection spell.
"Madam Pomfrey, it is a tribute to your excellent care that Harry is doing so well," beamed Mr. Singh. "I am so happy for you and Harry that the court saw fit to put him in your capable hands." Mr. Singh's mother was a Muggle lawyer, and growing up Singh had heard many horror stories of court decisions gone awry.
Pomfrey actually blushed at this praise. "Oh, tosh," she said with a wave of her hand. "Harry's always been resilient."
"You do yourself a disservice, Madam. Please don't belittle your great work," entreated Singh. He promised to return the following week to check on the status of Harry's incidental magic, and when he did, it was with a beaming smile that he delivered his report: Harry's outpouring of magic was down to the merest trickle. "I expect in another week or two to find no trace of it whatsoever. Congratulations, Madam Pomfrey," and here Singh bowed deeply to the Nurse. "Your guardianship is sheer magic," he said with a wink.
Mr. Singh was quite right. In two weeks' time there was no sign of Harry's incidental magic. At Madam Pomfrey's request, Mr. Singh submitted a full report on this to Tiberious Ogden and Rufus Scrimgeour – in the hopes that it would get the latter to leave Harry alone.
Pomfrey and Harry followed a strict routine during the week. After breakfast, washing up, and an hour of playtime, they went to St. Mungo's where Harry had healing sessions for mind and body. St. Mungo's had added some complimentary Muggle techniques to their traditional practices, and it was decided (after much heated debate) that Harry's unique condition called for such highly unconventional treatments. Madam Pomfrey was reluctant to agree to the still-controversial therapies, but in the end, she acquiesced (with more than a little nudging from Healer Chang and Mr. Singh). Harry had physical therapy with one Madam Nesbit, a squib who had found a happy niche at St. Mungo's. She worked on strengthening and stretching Harry's muscles and building up his stamina to improve his motor skills. This usually exhausted Harry and he took a late morning nap before lunch in a private room at the hospital. After lunch he had a session with a psychic/psychology specialist, Mr. Brookes, a wizard who put Madam Pomfrey in mind of Arthur Weasley due to their shared fascination with all things Muggle. (Mr. Brookes had attended a Muggle university and actually lived as a one of them for five years. He had written a memoir on his experiences, Muggle Like Me, which was still on the bestseller list at Flourish and Blotts.) Harry liked this part of his day at St. Mungo's best because Mr. Brookes had lots of toys to play with and he even let Harry make a mess painting and playing with clay.
After this session, Harry returned to Hogwarts for an afternoon nap. The rest of his day was spent with Madam Pomfrey, and often with Ginny, Ron or Hermione, who were Harry's regular and most frequent visitors. They would read to and play with Harry and often stayed for dinner.
One night over dinner, when it was just the two of them, Pomfrey was re-reading the latest progress report on Harry from Madam Nesbit. Nesbit had been steadily working with Harry on his motor skills and was concerned by his lack of progress in certain areas. Specifically, she had written that in their last session, Harry had refused to even try to stand up and take steps.
"Harry?" began Madam Pomfrey solemnly, "Madam Nesbit tells me you are not being very cooperative with her." Harry said nothing, continuing to eat and avoiding Pomfrey's gaze.
"Harry, look at me." Pomfrey had her no-nonsense voice and Harry was immediately compelled to look up. "Don't you want to walk like a big boy, Harry? Think of all the fun you could have playing 'catch the snitch' with Ron and Ginny –" Pomfrey stopped abruptly as Harry's eyes filled with tears. The Nurse got up and went to grasp his hands in hers. "What is it, Harry?"
Harry just shook his head and screwed up his face trying not to cry. Pomfrey vanished his tray and helped him up from his chair. Harry stood momentarily. Meeting Pomfrey eye to eye, Harry threw his arms around her neck and hugged her. The force of this caused Pomfrey to falter slightly and Harry recoiled at this, falling to his knees and hiding his face in his hands. Pomfrey got down on the floor and wrapped her arms around Harry's shaking form.
"Harry, Harry, it's okay," she soothed. Pomfrey could just barely hear him whisper between shuddering breaths:
"M-m-my…too…b-big, my too big."
"Oh, Harry, wherever did you get that idea?" She was going to have to talk to Brookes and Nesbit about this.
Harry stole a quick look and lowered his eyes. "Pomfee not…hold Ha-ee," he whispered so softly that the Nurse almost did not hear.
"You are most certainly not too big, and I would take care of you even if you towered over me like a giant." At this, Pomfrey had a sudden realization. She lifted Harry's chin and met his eyes. "Hagrid is not too big, either, Harry. I know he sometimes says he is, but he is quite mistaken about that. I'm going to see if he can come up and see you tonight. If not, we can go visit him tomorrow. It's Saturday, so no St. Mungo's. You'll see it's good to be a big boy."
Harry just blinked at his caretaker and wiped his nose on his sleeve. Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes and wordlessly pulled out a fresh hanky from her apron pocket. She cleaned the smear that was now across his cheek and Scourgified the mucus from his sleeve. "Why don't you go play for a bit while I send Hagrid a quick owl?"
Hagrid's reply came back within the half hour that he was not available that night, but that he'd come by and fetch Harry first thing after breakfast.
~o~
Harry was sitting on the sofa looking at one of his favorite picture books, My First Book Of Magical Creatures, when Hagrid arrived. He looked up at Hagrid for a moment, and bit his lip pensively before returning to his book.
"Mornin' Harry, Madam Pomfrey," Hagrid greeted them cheerily.
"A word in private, if you would, Hagrid?" The Nurse motioned Hagrid to follow her to the kitchen and she closed the door, adding a silencing charm so Harry wouldn't hear them.
"Thank you for coming, Hagrid. I have a most serious matter to discuss with you. Please, sit down." With that, she transfigured a kitchen chair into a larger version of itself. As Hagrid sat down, Pomfrey settled in the chair adjacent to his. "I've exchanged several owls last night with the Healers at St. Mungo's. Harry's been in a right state and they tell me he is making very little progress in learning to walk. Mr. Brookes believes Harry is in need of some…additional coddling – Now don't look at me that way, Rubeus! I know that's not my usual method," the Nurse said sternly. "But Mr. Brookes feels that Harry is in danger of contracting some Muggle disorder called 'Failure To Thrive', due to a lack of adequate care."
"Lack of – tha's rubbish, tha' is! You've done a fine job wi' Harry. How can they say that?" Hagrid shook his head in disbelief.
"It's not that, Hagrid. In Harry's mind, only a few weeks have passed since he was little and held and carried about. Now he finds himself without his parents and without the type of care they gave him. It is a very difficult adjustment to make, and you are in a unique position to help – if you take my meaning, Rubeus?"
Hagrid did not, so he just squinted at the Nurse in the hopes that her meaning would become clear momentarily.
"Babies need to be held, carried and cuddled, and suddenly, no one is able to do this for Harry due to his 'new' size. Hagrid, you are the only person capable of coddling Harry in the manner he requires. We need your help."
"Erm, oh! Oh, a'course, Poppy. Poor little Harry –"
"Hagrid – Rubeus. I'm not sure you realize what I am asking of you. This is more than just a lift up here and there. I, that is, Harry, needs you to be a regular part of each day. It's quite a commitment. If you agree, Mr. Brookes and Ms. Nesbit would like to meet with you and give you some formal training on the best ways to help Harry. And perhaps you could accompany Harry in sessions with Madam Nesbit."
Hagrid was silent for a moment. His eyes were suspiciously bright and when next he spoke, his voice was a bit choked. "Poppy, you know there's nothing I wouldn' do fer our Harry. It's – he's… just Harry," he said by way of explanation.
Pomfrey reached up and patted the great man's arm. She was holding back her own tears and simply nodded her thanks. Then she pulled her apron straight, took a deep breath, ended the silencing charm, and breezed out the door back to the sitting room. Hagrid followed behind.
"Morning, Harry. Fine book yeh got there. What say we go ter my place an see some real creatures?"
Harry looked up hopefully at Madam Pomfrey who nodded her consent.
"C'mon Harry, up y'get." Hagrid reached out and pulled Harry up from the sofa gently. He held on to Harry's arm to steady the teetering youth. "Well, well," said Hagrid in an exaggerated voice of pride, "Look at what a fine big lad yer becomin!"
At this, Harry's face fell and he looked away from Hagrid.
"Oh now, none o'that, Harry. Up y'get," and Hagrid hoisted the surprised boy into his arms. "We're goin t'have a lot o'fun t'day, Harry. No long faces."
As they turned toward the door and bid farewell to Madam Pomfrey, Harry snaked his arms about Hagrid's neck and leaned his head on the man's massive shoulder, a faint smile on his lips.
"Wait!" called Pomfrey, all businesslike once again. "You need to take his bag. There's an extra nappy in there – which I'm sure you won't need, Hagrid," she added at the look of panic on the half-giant's face. "They're self-cleaning – good for several uses. His bottle is in there, too, and I've spelled it to ring at ten – make sure he drinks the entire contents. He usually takes a nap after that. His, er, security blanket is in there as well."
At this, Harry popped his head up and said brightly, "My Day-co seeve! My want dat, Pomfee."
"Oh, very well, Harry," sighed Pomfrey as she rummaged through the bag and pulled out Draco Malfoy's tattered black robe sleeve and handed it to Harry. He brought the dark cloth immediately to his face and took a reassuring whiff. He stroked it with his fingers while he sucked his thumb. With his other arm still around Hagrid's neck, Harry leaned his head back down on the half-giant's shoulder, the very picture of contentment.
Tears sprang unbidden to Pomfrey's eyes at the sight. She cleared her throat briskly and shouted a few more instructions after the retreating duo, "There's an extra jumper in there if it gets chilly, and don't overtire him…"
The walk to Hagrid's was a pleasant one, with Hagrid chatting amiably about the sights and sounds along the way and the current menagerie he had housed in the new pens he'd built behind his hut. "…an I think yer gonta like that one. Now I've also got a Jarvey, oh. Bu' maybe we'll keep you away from that one, Harry. She means well, but she's a bi' rude…"
Harry, for his part, was not particularly listening to Hagrid's words, rather he was lulled to a sleepy state by the soothing rumblings of the half-giant's voice and the slight bouncing motion from his gait. Thus, Harry had quite a start when Hagrid suddenly plopped him down on a patch of grass, announcing, "Here we are, Harry! Whaddaya think?"
Harry blinked several times and looked around to get his bearings. His eyes widened as he recognized a creature from the book he'd been looking at that very morning. He pulled his thumb out of his mouth and pointed excitedly. "Yook, Ahgi! Dat a Ippagiff!" He cried.
"Right y'are, Harry!" Beamed Hagrid. "Tha's uh, Witherwings. You won' remember him, Harry, but he knows yeh."
Harry crawled closer to the largest pen, dragging Draco's sleeve along the ground as he went.
"Whoa, wait there, Harry," Hagrid called and bent low to put a staying hand on Harry's shoulder. "Y'have t'bow to a Hippogriff firs' and if he bows back, then y'can pet him. Up y'get." Hagrid raised Harry to his feet and held him steady while demonstrating the proper bow. "Like this, Harry."
With a little help from Hagrid, Harry made a wobbly bow. But it was clearly good enough for Witherwings, for the creature gave his own elegant bow in return.
"Well done, again, Harry!" clapped Hagrid and as soon as he let go, Harry fell back on his rump. Hagrid experienced a bittersweet moment as he recalled the first time he had introduced Harry to the Hippogriff, then called 'Buckbeak'. He didn't have time to dwell on it though, for in a flash, Harry was off and crawling toward a row of small cages where Hagrid kept his recuperating creatures. The first cage Harry came to contained a large, weasel-like creature.
"Le's skip tha' one, Harry. I don' think Madam Pomfrey would thank me fer introducin' yeh t'a jarvey." But it was too late. Harry was reaching his hand into the cage before Hagrid could stop him. Something else stopped him, though.
A shrill voice shouted suddenly, "What are you looking at, you little baby?" causing Harry to draw his hand back in surprise.
"Now, Harry, she don' mean nuthin' by it. Tha's jus' how jarvey's talk." If Hagrid expected Harry to burst out crying he was quite mistaken.
Harry looked up at Hagrid, eyes shining and a huge grin on his face. "My yike dat darvey!" he said, almost worshipfully.
"Well, uh, le's jus' see if we can find sommat else y'like, too." He picked Harry up and carried him to a bench on which there was a small carton with holes in the top. "Now I been savin' this special fer you, Harry." Hagrid opened the carton to reveal a silver-green lizard. "It's a moke, Harry. Go on, touch it. He won' hurt yeh."
Harry reached a hand into the carton and tentatively stroked the lizard's scaly back. Suddenly it shrank to half its size.
"Oh!" exclaimed Harry and he gave a little laugh.
The rest of the morning was spent with Hagrid introducing Harry to the various animals in his care. There were several owls recuperating from exhaustion (the Weasley's owl, Errol, was among them, and Hagrid was strongly recommending that the family retire him) and one with a broken wing. In an unprecedented show of sense, Hagrid had decided not to show Harry some of the more dangerous creatures (at least those deemed dangerous by his unique standards) and had – with difficulty – removed them to another area of the forest. And Fang, Hagrid's cowardly-but-lovable boarhound was thrilled to see Harry again. Hagrid was a bit worried that the dog might overwhelm Harry with slobbery affection, but Harry took to Fang right away, relishing the dog's eager face licks and laughing in delight. The two were rolling around on the grass together wrestling like a couple of littermates when Harry's bottle alarm went off.
"All righ' you two. Tha's enough. Inside now, Harry. Time fer yer bottle an' a rest. Madam Pomfrey's orders, " he added as Harry made to protest. Once they were inside, Hagrid set Harry up on his great bed propped up against the pillows to drink his bottle. Harry finished it without a fuss and snuggled down to sleep.
"Da big bed?" he whispered quizzically, looking at the patchwork quilt covering him. Soon his eyelids drooped and he was gently snoring around his thumb.
The next day, Harry was back at Hagrid's. Try as he might, Hagrid was unable to distract Harry from his favorite creature, the jarvey. Its constant stream of insults didn't faze Harry in the least – mostly owing to the fact that Harry didn't understand them. In addition, they sometimes contained choice phrases such as, "Little twerp," which Harry quite liked the sound of.
This particular jarvey was unusually tame both in its manner – which was quite gentle if a bit skittish – and its language. Jarveys spoke in meaningless phrases, but didn't actually communicate with their words, and were well known for their non-stop ability to hurl rude phrases. Yet this jarvey's insults were a lot milder than others Hagrid had heard, and for that he was grateful. When he was a younger man, he had frequented a pub in Knockturn Alley that had a standing offer of a free case of firewhisky to anyone who could out-cuss the barkeep's pet jarvey – but no one ever could, as far as Hagrid knew. Hagrid's ears turned red in remembrance of some of that animal's more choice remarks.
No, this jarvey was definitely different. Sometimes its insults seemed almost too relevant. Hagrid had come upon it one evening, while returning from his usual rounds. It had a nasty gash on its foreleg; it looked like a jarvey bite, which in itself was a bit odd. Jarveys were known to be solitary creatures and did not fight amongst themselves. Hagrid (being Hagrid) scooped the bleeding creature up and carried it home to tend its wound. The little jarvey showed its gratitude by telling Hagrid he was a 'great oaf' and a 'stupid git' and that his feet 'smelled like Kneazle turds'.
Hagrid lived in abject fear of Harry repeating the jarvey's comments to Madam Pomfrey, but he could deny Harry nothing when the boy looked up at him with his deep green eyes shining and asked hopefully, "My pay wif darvey, Ahgi?"
"Wouldn't you ruther play w'Fang, Harry? Or what abou' feedin' some treats t'the owls?" Harry just shook his head. "Oh, alrigh', Harry. But yer not t'go repeatin' anything she says t'yeh. Yeh can help me give her a bath if y'like, she's getting a bit ripe."
Harry's face broke into a huge grin, "My help you, Ahgi!"
"You wait here, Harry, I'm goin t'go inside t'get some hot water fer the bath."
Harry crawled over to the jarvey's cage as it shouted after Hagrid, "Get a life, you great mean wanker!"
"Ahgi not mean, siwwy darvey," laughed Harry, shaking his head.
"What would you know, you miserable little twerp?"
"You wan tum out, darvey? We don div you a baf."
The jarvey was silent at this, so Harry reached out and fumbled with the latch to the cage. Just then, Hagrid reappeared holding a large wooden tub (which – in his arms – looked more like a small wooden tub).
"Harry! Stop! What'r'yeh doin'?" Hagrid shouted in alarm. "Y'never open a cage by yerself!"
Harry drew his hand back quickly and looked down, his cheeks colouring.
"It's alrigh', Harry. No harm done," Hagrid added more gently. "It's jus' that some creatures can hurt yeh. Yer got ter let me handle 'em firs', alrigh'?"
Harry nodded mutely, still feeling slightly ashamed. Hagrid set the tub down on the bench. He retrieved the jarvey from the cage and carried it to the tub, with Harry crawling a little ways behind him.
"Alrigh' now, Harry?" Hagrid had to shout at this point to be heard over the jarvey's cries of 'Blasted, bloody bath!' "Best push up yer sleeves, don' wan ter get too wet."
Hagrid needn't have bothered; by the end of the bath both he and Harry were as wet as the jarvey. As they dried the squirming creature off with a towel, Hagrid checked its foreleg. "Well, tha's scabbed over nicely, an held up well in the bath, too."
"In da buddy baf," corrected Harry earnestly, and he lay back onto the grass. Harry had had to stand to reach the tub and while he'd lost his balance several times during the bath, he always pulled himself back up. By the end of it, he was quite exhausted.
"I don' think we need t'keep her here anymore," Hagrid told Harry. "No more cage for you, little jarvey. Yer free t'go – once yer all dry, tha' is." And he continued rubbing the creature's fur with the towel.
Harry sat up, frowning. "My no want da darvey to doe, Ahgi. My yike da darvey."
"Well a'course yeh do, Harry. An I like her, too, but she won't thank us fer keeping her locked up in a cage. Yeh can't keep animals like tha', i'snot right."
Harry said nothing and just watched as Hagrid picked up the now dry jarvey.
"T'tell yer the truth, I don' want her t'go either. Grown kinda fond of her, I have."
"Sentimental twits," said the jarvey.
"Righ', well I'll jus' set her down an we'll see wha' she does,. Eh, Harry?"
"Otay, Ahgi," mumbled Harry dejectedly.
Hagrid put the jarvey down on the grass and it began skittering to and fro as though unsure what to do with its newfound freedom. Then it scampered over to Harry and leapt onto his lap.
"You smell like Mooncalf droppings," it said, and promptly gave Harry a long, slow lick up the side of his face.
"You a cute yittew terp," Harry cooed to it lovingly, as he stroked its coarse fur.
Hagrid shook his head in disbelief. "Why a jarvey? Of all creatures –" His regret was cut off by the ringing of Harry's bottle alarm. The routine from the previous day was repeated, only this time, the jarvey followed them inside the hut and leapt easily up to the bed with Harry. As Harry downed the last of his bottle, the jarvey settled itself on the bed beside him.
"Well done, Harry. Good boy. Now close yer eyes an' have a nice rest. I'm jes gonter nip out t'the garden an grab some peas fer shellin."
"Ahgi?"
"Yes, Harry?"
"Um, my have a sewger now?" He yawned.
"No, Harry. Please don' ask me that. Madam Pomfrey would be very mad if I gave you sugar lumps before yer nap."
"Otay, Ahgi."
"G'nigh' Harry." Harry nodded sleepily, but his eyes were already closed.
~o~
"Haaaawwyyyyyy. Ickle Hawwyyyyyyyy?"
Harry's lashes fluttered. Someone was calling him, but he was so comfortable. He wanted to stay asleep. He turned over on his stomach, away from the voice, and tucked his knees beneath him as he made a small groan of protest. It was working. The voice was fading. Suddenly, he was pushed forcibly over onto his side. He blinked several times and opened his eyes. Kneeling on the bed above him was a woman with long, dark hair. She held one of Hagrid's chair throws wrapped around her. Harry stared at her blankly, still half asleep.
She held a finger to his lips, "Shhhh. Do you know me, ickle Harry?" she asked in a whisper.
Harry shook his head. "You Ahgi's fend?" he whispered back. She chuckled softly at this and Fang whined quietly from under one of Hagrid's chairs.
"Oh my dear little Harry, you really don't remember me?" Another head shake from Harry in answer. "Well then, I am your friend, Harry." She smiled broadly at him, revealing her perfect, pearl-like teeth. She tilted her head in thought for a moment and continued, "Why don't you call me 'Lily'?" You like to have friends, don't you?"
Harry nodded a bit warily. The woman's eyes kept shifting from him to the window and back as she spoke. She leaned in closer to him, still speaking in a low whisper. "Friends do nice things for each other, don't they, Harry?" she said smiling. Harry just stared. "Like share treats. I bet you'd love to have some sugar lumps, wouldn't you?"
"Ahgi say 'No'," explained Harry, shaking his head dejectedly.
"Well, that's just silly. Doesn't he know you like sugar lumps?"
"Him know. But Pomfee say no have a yot of sewgers."
The woman sighed heavily and shook her head with a look of great pity on her face. Then she climbed down from the bed and went to Hagrid's table. She rewrapped the throw about her torso as she went, tucking the edge in so it stayed up on its own around her. When she returned, she had Hagrid's sugar bowl in hand.
"Here you go, dear, sweet, ickle Harry. You've been such a good boy, haven't you? You deserve some reward."
Harry hesitated. He really had been a good boy and he really did love sugar lumps. Hagrid had said 'No', yet here was this nice friend, telling him it was okay. Urging him, in fact. And the temptation was simply too great. Harry reached out hesitantly, took a lump and placed it in his mouth. He closed his eyes as he savoured the sweetness dissolving on his tongue. When he opened them, the woman was gone and the sugar bowl rested beside him on the bed.
"Yiwee? Where you doe?" he whispered, looking around the cabin. There was no answer and no sign of the woman. Harry sucked on many more of the sweet lumps before drifting into a sugary stupor. When next he woke, it was to the loud sounds of Hagrid, snoring by his bed in a comfy chair. His head felt funny and Hagrid's deep rolling snores weren't helping any.
"Ahgi! My awate!" He shouted above the din.
"Huh? Hm, erm, oh. Harry. Yer awake, eh? Good nap, lad?" Hagrid asked, wiping the sleep from his eyes.
Harry just frowned and rubbed his own eyes. Then he squeezed them shut and rubbed his head. He brought his Draco-sleeve up to his face, pressed the fine cloth onto his forehead and made a little whinging sound.
"Wha' wrong, there, Harry? Yer lookin a little green." Hagrid clomped to the bedside and gently touched the back of his hand to Harry's cheek. "Don' feel too warm. Wha's this?" Hagrid spied the nearly empty sugar bowl on the bed. "Oh, Harry. Did yeh eat all tha' sugar? S'no wonder yeh don' feel righ'." Hagrid shook his head sadly. "Yeh disappointed me, Harry, an Madam Pomfrey isn't gon ter like this one bit."
"But Yiwee say I tan have da sewgers."
"No, Harry. You asked me an I said 'No'," cut in Hagrid, misunderstanding Harry's words.
"But –"
"It's time we got back teh th'castle." Without another word, Hagrid pulled back the quilt and put Harry's trainers on his feet.
"A-Ahgi?"
"I don' wan ter talk abou' it righ' now, Harry." The half-giant said, shaking his head. He was most definitely not looking forward to explaining this to Madam Pomfrey.
The trip back to the castle was a somber one. Harry did not try to talk to Hagrid again but just clung to his coat as Hagrid carried him up the path to Hogwarts' main doors.
As Hagrid had anticipated, Madam Pomfrey was absolutely furious with him. They left Harry in the nursery with Dobby and a bottle of tonic to take the edge off his sugar headache so they could talk freely.
"How could you leave such a temptation within his reach like that? And why did you leave him alone?"
"He wasn' alone. Fang was there, an' his jarvey, an I was jus' righ' outside…in…the…garden. Oh. I shouldna said tha'" he cringed.
"Did you say 'jarvey'? Aren't they those foul-mouthed overgrown weasels?"
"Well, erm, strickly speakin, yes. But this one's ruther tame, an Harry took a shine t'her."
Madam Pomfrey's face grew redder with every word.
"I tried t'get rid've her. But she wouldna' leave. She really likes Harry. Er, It's good fer a lad t'have a pet. Teaches him responsibility an like…"I really shouldna said tha' thought Hagrid with further dread. The resulting tirade about responsibility went on for several minutes until Pomfrey had to stop to draw her breath. Then she sighed wearily.
"No great harm was done this time, Rubeus, but what if Harry had gotten into something dangerous?"
"Yer absolutely righ'. M'rubbish a'this. Poor Harry."
"You are not 'rubbish', Rubeus," said Pomfrey more gently. "But next weekend will be spent here at the castle. I have to go see my sister on Saturday and I know that Harry would much rather spend the morning with you than listening to two stuffy old witches catching up."
Harry bounced back quickly from the sugar incident and was relentlessly badgering Madam Pomfrey all week to allow Hagrid to bring the jarvey to visit on Saturday. By Wednesday, he had worn Pomfrey down and she relented on the condition that it would be kept on a leash and wear some sort of nappy.
"I will not have that thing running willy-nilly about my quarters making 'deposits'," and that was her final word.
During the week, Harry made some progress working on taking steps with Madam Nesbit and Hagrid, and on Saturday morning when Hagrid knocked on the door, Harry pushed himself up from the sofa and tottered almost the whole way to the door without falling.
"Well done, Harry!" exclaimed Madam Pomfrey happily.
Harry pulled himself up by the door handle and awkwardly opened the door for Hagrid. True to his word, Hagrid had the jarvey under one arm. It was wearing a nappy with a hole cut out for its tail and had a crossed harness with a lead attached.
"Mornin there, Harry, Madam Pomfrey," Hagrid greeted them in a voice slightly raised in vain effort to drown out the jarvey's mutterings about 'tacky, tasteless garments'.
"I knew I would regret this," Pomfrey said under her breath. "Harry, I'm not coming back till after lunch today. Dobby will bring a special meal for you and Hagrid."
"An for Darvey, too?" asked Harry earnestly
"Yes," sighed Madam Pomfrey, "I suppose so. Be a good boy, Harry, and mind Hagrid."
Harry nodded and reached for the jarvey. Hagrid set it on the floor and gave Harry the lead. The creature skittered about, shaking the nappy off easily and ran around and around Harry tangling the lead about his legs. Harry laughed as he fell on his bottom and the jarvey jumped in his lap and licked his face. Pomfrey just shook her head and gathered up her bag and robe.
"I'll be back at two. Try to keep everything – and everyone in one piece, Hagrid, won't you?"
"Don' you worry Poppy. We'll be fine," returned the half-giant. With a curt nod of skepticism, Madam Pomfrey was off.
The first thing Harry wanted to do was to take the jarvey to the nursery and show it all his toys and books. He was completely oblivious to the creature's disinterest as he went through his most prized possessions, holding each one up as he described it.
"…an' dis my sitch – my pay catch wif Non-non and Nee-nee. Dis my qaffle – my yike to frow it up high. Dis my comit boot wif Wizard Gick. He da funny man…"
Ten o'clock couldn't come soon enough for Hagrid. He was petrified that the jarvey would empty her bladder in Madam Pomfrey's pristine quarters. He was planning to ask Dobby to keep an eye on Harry while he took the creature outside, but Harry had other ideas.
"No, Ahgi! Darvey yike seep wif Ha-ee."
"Now, Harry, yer jarvey needs t'use the loo. Madam Pomfrey wouldn't like it at all if yer pet made a mess in her home."
"Darvey a good girl. She not mate a mess. Peese, Ahgi? My yike dat darvey…"
And there were those green eyes again. Imploring him in a way that Hagrid felt powerless to refuse. And though he felt foolish – he knew there was no real magic behind those eyes this time – he relented, and fully relished the delighted look on Harry's innocent face.
After Harry had finished his bottle and was nestled in his new 'big boy' bed with the jarvey at his side, Hagrid retreated from the nursery.
"I'll leave the door open a crack, Harry. Jes call if yeh need me." After he left Harry, Hagrid did a thorough search of Madam Pomfrey's quarters to be sure the jarvey had left no undetected mess. When he was satisfied that the place was spotless, Hagrid settled onto the sofa (which Madam Pomfrey had kindly enlarged prior to his arrival) and fell into a light sleep himself.