QLFC Round 7: Fluffin' it Up
Chudley Cannons
Seeker
Prompt: Domestic Bliss/A Slice of Life/Daily Life
Word Count: 1182
Hagrid always woke up early, even in the summers when the students were on holiday.
"C'mon, Fang!
Hagrid rolled out of bed with a bleary grumble, nudging Fang to the side as he struggled to his feet. It was early in the morning, and the sun was just barely beginning to lighten the sky, but the grounds did not sleep, not even in summer when the students were all gone home.
Hagrid stretched and groaned, and Fang watched him with one eye from underneath his pile of blankets.
"Lazy dog," Hagrid chuckled when he saw Fang. "You've only got a few more minutes."
Fang withdrew his head further beneath his blankets in response, and Hagrid shook his head and went to put his kettle on. A few minutes later he was humming cheerfully as he bit into a large scone and delicately sipped at his scalding hot tea. Fang finally emerged from the bed, gave his body a great shake, and turned his nose towards the table.
"You've got yer bowl," Hagrid told him, but Fang kept staring at him. "Oh, alright." Hagrid broke off a modest chunk from what remained of the scone and tossed it to him. Fang didn't bother attempting to catch it, and happily laid down on the floor to eat it.
Hagrid shook his head in amusement. Fang was such a spoiled dog, but he'd never been able to resist his adorable face.
"Finish that up," Hagrid told Fang, popping the last bit of scone in his mouth and draining his mug of tea. "We've got a lot to do!"
Hagrid pulled on his boots and his vest, and with Fang lagging a few seconds behind, headed out the door. He whistled cheerfully as he crossed the grounds, although anyone listening would have been hard pressed to distinguish any sort of recognizable tune or sense of rhythm.
Normally, Hagrid took his time with his duties. He wasn't lazy, but he did like to talk to all the different beasts and beings that lived on the grounds, even if they were no more capable of speaking than Fang was. Today, however, he did his work with a purpose.
"Can't stay and chat," he told Stonefeather, the elderly hippogriff who he usually talked to for a half hour every morning. "Got an important errand to run this afternoon, see. I'll make it up to ya tomorrow."
Hagrid offered similar apologies to everyone he ran into, including Professor Sprout, who he ran into just before lunch.
"Hagrid!" she cried as he entered Greenhouse Three with a large sack hoisted on his back. "Is that my mulch?"
"Nice and fresh for ya, Professor," Hagrid grunted as he swung the sack off his back and set it heavily on the greenhouse floor.
"Oh, thank you!" Professor Sprout hurried over and peered in the top. "This looks excellent, Hagrid. My plants will very much appreciate it!"
"Anytime, Professor," Hagrid said with a smile, glad that the professor was pleased.
"If you have some time, Hagrid, would you like to see my latest plant? I've got it in the cellar now — a cutting of a Devil's Snare!"
"A Devil's Snare!" Hagrid said in awe, and then his face fell as he remembered his afternoon plans. "Sorry, Professor, but I can't look at it now. I've got to pick up some things in Hogsmeade."
"That's alright," Professor Sprout told him. "It's not going anywhere anytime soon. Whenever you're free just let me know."
Hagrid brightened. "Thank you, Professor, I will!"
With a bit of a spring in his step, Hagrid left Greenhouse Three, with Fang trailing a few meters behind him. They stopped at his hut just long enough for him to eat a quick lunch, and then they were off to Hogsmeade.
As they walked through the little town, Hagrid waved his greetings at everyone he knew, but didn't stop and chat with anyone. He headed across the river on the far side of town, to a shop that hardly any of the students even knew was there: the greengrocer.
The grocer's shop was surrounded by a fenced garden, and Hagrid stopped at the gate and looked at Fang sternly.
"Wait right here for me," Hagrid told Fang. "And no sneakin' in after me like last time."
Fang stared up at Hagrid for a few moments, before letting out a gusty sigh and reluctantly sitting.
"Good boy, Fang," Hagrid beamed. "I'll be right back."
"Hagrid!" Mr. Teasdale greeted Hagrid from behind the counter as he entered. "What can I help you with today?"
"I've got a list, somewhere," Hagrid said, rummaging in one of his vest pockets. "Ah! Here it is."
Hagrid handed Mr. Teasdale the slightly grubby note. The grocer perused it carefully.
"Flour, sugar, eggs, yes, yes, of course." Mr. Teasdale looked up at Hagrid. "I'll get this all ready for you in a jiffy!"
He whipped out his wand and muttered a few words quietly, and then tapped Hagrid's list twice. From around the shop, items began floating off of their shelves and moving towards them. As each item approached, Mr. Teasdale plucked it up and neatly arranged it all in one large brown paper bag, except for the eggs, which he carefully wrapped up separately.
"There you are," Mr. Teasdale said when he was done. "That's two galleons and four sickles."
Hagrid took out his purse and carefully counted out the right amount, and then took his groceries with a grateful thanks to Mr. Teasdale.
"C'mon Fang," Hagrid breezed back through the garden gate. "We've got cookin' to do!"
Fang got up slowly and trundled along after him.
When Hagrid got back to his hut, he set his ingredients out and then took his cookbook down from the shelf and carefully flipped to the right page. He propped it up and read over it intently, and when he'd finished he nodded to himself.
"I can do this," Hagrid told himself. "It's just followin' the instructions."
Hagrid got to work, measuring ingredients carefully and mixing them together, triple-checking each step with the recipe. He poured the batter in a large tin, slid it in the oven, and tried not to look in on it every five minutes while it was baking.
When it was done, Hagrid carefully took it out and despite his best efforts to get the cake out of the pan in one piece, it broke in several places. He tried his best to paste it together with the frosting, but the final result was lumpy, and not very appealing.
Hagrid looked at the cake and sighed. He'd followed the instructions to the letter, or so he'd thought, anyway. Perhaps he just needed a little more practice, Hagrid told himself optimistically. He turned to one of his kitchen drawers and rummaged in it for a minute before emerging with what he'd been looking for.
Hagrid set the single candle in the middle of the cake and lit it with his wand.
"Happy birthday, Harry," he said with a smile. "I'll bake you a better cake next year, I promise."