For Cyp – I hope I did you justice!

Enjoy reading!

Love And Where To Find It

Hagrid was still buzzing with excitement. Never in his many years had he thought that he would witness the infamous Triwizard Tournament, and play a major part in organising it. Dumbledore had asked him about coming up with ideas as to what kinds of creatures they could use for the three tasks they had to prepare, and he already had so many ideas.

Manticores would be amazing – with their temperament and intelligence they would be suitable for a variety of tests for the three Champions. Also, it would test their knowledge of how to deal with a creature that was immune to all sorts of spells. He grinned and nodded, making a note to talk to Dumbledore about the possibilities of getting one transported to the castle. They'd need a spacious cage for it so that it does not attack any of the wizards looking after it.

Dragons – he loved dragons, but he couldn't help but remember the horror Ron had shown all those years ago when Norbert had hatched. He would have to owl Charlie Weasley to ask whether they had young ones or females that hadn't laid eggs. Mother dragons would be relatively protective of their brood, no matter whether their eggs were in a nest six hundred kilometers away or just around the corner. Although that could also be used to their advantage...

Thestrals would probably be less exciting, no matter how fascinating those creatures were. Those who had not had to witness death wouldn't be able to see what was going on, making the whole participation of them kind of redundant.

Chizpurfles would be another option for distracting the Champions, though you wouldn't want them to leave the predefined location. Now that he thought about it, it might not be such a good idea. Dumbledore wouldn't want them to find their way into the Potions classroom and destroy all of Professor Snape's brewed potions. He wanted to help, not make things more complicated.

He had so many ideas that he had to grab a piece of parchment and jot them all down. His brain was going hayfire, firing off idea after idea, filling him with excitement and determination to talk to Dumblemore to get the owls sent out as soon as possible. Things needed to be organised, creatures needed to be flown in, and locations needed to be found and prepared for their new inhabitants.

He couldn't wait for the tournament to begin! Upon Dumbledore's request, he had gone along with breeding a special kind of bush. It had been known throughout history, the headmaster had said, for its peculiar habit of grabbing onto things that came into its close proximity. He figured those plants were perfect for the third task, as that was to do with some kind of maze and prize to be found to win the tournament.

Dumbledore had asked him to breed the plants as some sort of gateway the Champions had to defeat in order to get to the prize, but what fun was that? He thought it would be way more fascinating and entertaining to build the whole maze out of these bushes. They looked like regular shrubs, but moved whenever they felt someone or something touch them. He hoped that Dumbledore would like them.

The tournament was about gaining knowledge, facing dangers and using their brains and magical abilities to solve the riddles.

Hagrid grinned and moved over to Fang, who was chewing on a piece of meat he had saved from the stash he had fed the Thestrals. He always made sure that once they had pulled the carriages with the students up to the castle, each got at least one piece of the finest beef he could find.

They were incredible creatures, those Thestrals. Peaceful, loyal and so magical that even nature could sense it when a foal was born. Century old folklore said that Thestrals were able to manipulate nature in a way for it to rain stars or for the moon to turn red. He knew better, though, as this folklore was neither entirely true nor entirely false. Every time a young one was born, nature reacted to the peak in the animals' magic in a way that looked like it was manipulated – star showers, red moons or one week of the most beautiful summer weather one could wish for. It had nothing to do with direct manipulation, just with nature's reaction to something as pure as magic.

Hagrid left Fang to his piece of beef, and moved to the door, his mind still going over all the possibilities for which creatures could be added to the third task.

He had to focus, though. Today was the day the other two schools sent their students to Hogwarts. Each would send a selection of their best and most talented students to add their names to the Goblet of Fire. Dumbledore had told him last week that the delegation of Durmstrang wouldn't need his assistance, as the location of their school made it necessary for them to arrive by boat. He had told Dumbledore that he might want to warn the merpeople to not have them attack the ship.

The real reason he was shuffling over the grounds of Hogwarts right now was the arrival of the French possible Champions. Beauxbatons Academy of Magic did not use a ship or train to arrive at Hogwarts, but a set of flying carriages that were pulled by flying horses. He himself had only dealt with those creatures once before, as, similarly to unicorns, they preferred a woman's touch.

Seeing as how he was the Professor for the Care of Magical Creatures at Hogwarts, though, it was his responsibility to make sure the horses felt right at home in the colder climate of Scotland. He had ordered dozens of barrels of Single Malt Whiskey, a treat he knew the specific breed of horse enjoyed, which he wanted to give them to drink as a welcoming gift. He would need to speak with the headmistress of Beauxbatons to find out what they usually drank, so he could send out another owl later tonight to ensure the wellbeing of her animals.

He wasn't going to deny it – he got slightly giddy when Dumbledore had told him that the Beauxbaton delegation would arrive accompanied by the headmistress herself. Madame Olympe Maxime had the reputation of being a hard working and magically powerful woman, who shared his love of magical creatures. It was said that she kept several hundred species of various creatures from all over the world on her school's grounds, and he couldn't wait to talk to her.

It wasn't often that he met someone who loved the beautiful creatures as much as he did.

So, as the clock chimed the twelfth hour, he couldn't suppress the excitement. He looked up towards the sky and saw three miniature carriages fly towards where he stood in front of the castle, gradually growing in size the nearer they got. The makeshift landing strip reached out over most of the castle's grounds, stretching into the distance behind him. Winged horses were fast but also known to not calculate their speed correctly. They would end up trying to land at a speed so high that they would need a couple hundred meters to slow down.

Big hooves clattered on the solid ground as they hit the grass on a speed much too high, just as Hagrid had expected them to. The carriages chained behind them jumped back off the floor, bouncing aggressively behind the horses as their legs tensed and tried to slow the caravan down. Hagrid raised his arms, held up two flag semaphores in his hands, and waved them in a manner trying to communicate where they should land and where they could run in order to slow down.

The horses whinnied and threw their heads back as they did anything but slow down, and sprinted towards the half-giant. Hagrid cried out and threw himself out of their way at the last moment. A wooden wheel of a carriage dug into the ground at the exact spot where, not one second before, he had been standing.

Eyes big and heart pounding, he stared after the incredible creatures as they reached the end of the landing strip and took a sharp u-turn to bustle back towards the entrance of the castle. Whinnying loudly, they came to a stop right in front of Hagrid, who was busy brushing off the dirt covering his posterior.

He heard the Thestrals cry in the distance. They were unsettled by the new arrivals. Thestrals were creatures that loved to stay to themselves, so smelling, and most likely hearing, the winged horses was bound to make them feel insecure and fidgety. He made a mental note to bring them another serving of beef later that day to make sure they were okay.

His eyes travelled over the tips of the trees, keeping an eye out for his friends, but was distracted as he heard the carriage door open behind him. Hurriedly, he turned back around, mouth open to greet the foreign guests, but his voice failed as he stared up at the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

She had luscious, brown hair that shone with a slight red tinge to it, reflecting the sunlight in an oddly mesmerising sort of way. It came up to around her strong jaw, angular, speaking of strength and determination. Her eyes were sharp, yet warm and welcoming, as she smiled down at him. He felt like a complete idiot just standing there,gaping at her. She probably felt insulted, as she was sure to catch a lot of stares back in France.

He forced his mouth shut and his hand to leave his buttocks, as he reached out and offered her his slightly dusty hand. He noticed too late, but she had already grabbed onto it, allowing him to help her down the small steps ejecting from out of the carriage's wall underneath the little door.

"Bienvenue en Ecosse!" Hagrid boomed, silently thanking the headmaster to mention that she would join her students on the journey to Hogwarts. He hoped his French was good enough to give her a proper greeting. He really wanted to impress this incredible woman, and not make a fool out of himself and end up insulting her. "Welcome te Scotland. The weather mightn't be as nice as in France, but I hope ye will enjoy yer stay here nev'rtheless!"

"Merci beaucoup," she said in a melodious voice that left him speechless. The words were spoken in a deep, warm rumble – sultry, suggestive and intriguing. He had never met a woman like her. He was completely done for and all she had done was smile at him and speak two words. "You must be 'agrid? Dumbleedore mentioned hiz Gate Keepur."

A proud blush crept up his neck as he puffed out his chest. "That me, madam," he bowed slightly. "Allow me te lead ye up to the castle."

Madame Maxime's warm hand was still lying in his, as she squeezed it slightly and flashed him the most breathtaking smile he had ever seen. "I'd be very zankful."

He'd never let that woman get away, Hagrid swore to himself as he led her up the stairs and into the Entrance Hall.

Never.

Well, I have never written anything with Hagrid in it and I have to be honest - it wasn't easy. I hope I managed anyway.

Until next time - see ya!