AN: It's been a while, but exams are over, so I should be good to start pumping out chapters of everything again. The Practice Round of The Potter Complex is open: forum/The-Potter-Complex/240360/ It's a Fanfiction Competition by me and Ebonywonder, so please check it out.

DavidoDaVinci

This chapter better get me 3 reviews.

Chapter 5: Hagrid

A crossbow and some boots sat beside Hagrid's cabin. Harry gently knocked twice on the door.

"Who's there?"

"It's me, Harry."

"Ah! Hello, Har- Hey! Back, Fang! Come in!"

Ron pushed the door tentatively, and it opened inwards onto a single room, which contained a bed, some chairs, a dining table, a bug-eaten rug, and a fireplace, everything Hagrid would probably need in his day-to-day life. In one of the corners was a very large, black, boarhound, which Harry took to be Fang.

"Make yerselves at home." said Hagrid, who was having difficulty holding Fang back from trying to lick Ron's face off.

"This is Ron, and Hannah." Harry told Hagrid, who was busying himself with rock cakes and tea. He greeted them merrily, and almost got some boiling water on Fang's foot in the process

The rock cakes in question almost broke their teeth, but they thought it would be kind to pretend to be enjoying them, except for Hannah, who tried, and failed, to give it to Fang.

Hagrid went on, complaining about Filch and Mrs Norris, to the delight of everyone else there, and went on assuring Harry that Snape was fine, and didn't hate him at all. He was, Hagrid told him, most likely to dislike Ron out of the three of them, since Ron was in Gryffindor, which made sense, ignoring Snape's attitude towards him in the last week.

…

"No, Fang! Come in, Harry!"

The door creaked open, seemingly of its own accord, and the three students walked in. Fang, the boarhound, seemed at last to have calmed down, so that Hagrid could have a semi-normal conversation again.

"So… introduce yerself, then!" He addressed this to Ron and Padma, who did so, seemingly out of fear.

"'Nother Weasley? How many does Molly want? I spent half last year chasing down yer brothers! Not in detention already, are ya?" he asked, with an evil grin on his face, which signalled to Harry that he was not at all as annoyed about Fred and George as his tone of voice had suggested.

Ron shook his head, and tucked into a rock cake, which, in hindsight, wasn't a very wise decision.

"So, Harry. How was yer first week at Hogwarts?"

"Well, there was a lot of stuff, first lesson in… well, everything… uh… McGonagall was strict, Flitwick was short…" Hagrid snorted, "And I think Snape hated me, bu-"

"Sorry?" Hagrid asked.

"Snape? He hated me?"

"Oh! Yeah, it makes sense. Yer father and him… well, they didn't get on very well, there was a lot of bullying from… Well, they didn't get on."

Harry raised his eyebrows at Ron and Padma.

…

"So? Are you coming?"

"Hm?" Draco asked, glancing up from his tasty toast sandwich, as he described, clearly displaying some sleep crust in his right eye. "Wha's going on? Am I coming where?"

Harry realised it was unlikely that he had gotten much sleep on Friday. "Are you coming with me and Ron to see Hagrid?"

He mumbled a 'No thanks', and Harry shrugged.

"Your loss, Draco. You can come down at any point, provided I'm still there, 'kay?"

He seemed unhappy to see Harry go, but was unable to think of any reason to continue talking with him, so just stared after him, hopelessly. Harry shook his head at Ron's inquisitive look.

"Ah, phew. I mean- uh… uh… why are you friends with him, again? He's a bit… Malfoy"

A deep sigh answered him, followed by a look which asked him why he wasn't friends with Draco, before he swung himself through the door and into the grounds.

Apparently desperate to have a conversation with Harry, Ron resorted to the old British favourite.

"The… weather's nice, isn't it?"

Harry wiped his nose on his sleeve, before glancing up at the mid-afternoon sun, and nodding, though noting the dark clouds which appeared to be signalling some rain soon. Hagrid was waiting by the door for them, waving merrily, like a young, gruff Santa Claus.

Harry, after a moment's hesitation, pulled Ron down to the cabin by the sleeve.

"Hey, Harry!" bellowed Hagrid a few minutes later, as they made their way inside.

"Hey Hagrid," Harry replied, gasping for air. "You live like this?"

Hagrid nodded gravely, then grinned, and turned to Ron.

"Ah! A Weasley? Blimey, how many do your parents want?"

Ron shrugged, "Too many," and glanced at the oven.

"Oh, yes! How could I forget?" He pulled on some tartan oven gloves, which had supposedly been made in London, opened the oven, and revealed some rock cakes, which Harry declined, but Ron ate gladly, for the two seconds before the toothache kicked in.

Harry was glancing around the room, immediately trying to find a topic of conversation to talk about. His eyes rested on the fireplace in the middle of the room.

"Must be nice," he muttered, turning to Hagrid. "Do you have to add logs to that every night or something?"

Hagrid nodded. "Oh yeah. I have to sort this out three times a day, and twice at night, more in Winter, I reckon. D'you know, I've been looking around in Diagon Alley to find a self-preserving fireplace at an affordable price for months, but no success so far. Only really expensive ones, and those purple ones which last for two months and don't connect to the floo network. I hear the Lovegoods recently installed their seventh, to keep the crumble-horned… somethings at bay. Could ask them for one. What do you think, Ron, eh?"

Ron, tactfully hiding the seven eighths of rock cake into his robes, replied. "I think I've seen them a few times, you know. Last June. The Lovegoods, not the fireplaces. Barking, but friendly as far as I can tell."

Harry nodded, silently deciding to ask Ron who exactly the Lovegoods were outside of the earshot of Hagrid.

"Changing the subject entirely," Harry began, a few moments later. "What was your least favourite subject at school, Hagrid?"

Hagrid shrugged. "Divination. But, in the first year, probably Potions. Long before the days of Snape," he grinned at the shared glance of the two boys. "But nevertheless a difficult class, it's in its nature. You spend as much time as you can, memorise all the steps on the board, and then promptly put in the mandrake feet after the ground up gillyweed, rather than before. Personally, I never saw the difference between them. One removed your memories of school, and the other killed you." he laughed, prompting the other two in the room to attempt to do the same.

Ron looked thoughtful for a moment, before saying. "Y'know, I thought when I first met Snape that Potions would be my least favourite, but I think I prefer it to Transfiguration."

Harry shrugged. "Always Potions for me. He hates my guts, and there's nothing I can do to prevent it, outside of ignoring him or skiving. The only reason he's not given me detention is because I'm in Slytherin. And skiving is pretty difficult when you live in the place. Although, I could do it… oh, but I'd have to miss Charms. Love Charms."

Hagrid laughed. "Ah, Charms was brilliant. Mind you, I could do diddly squat all lesson, but it was fun watching the pillows bouncing on the ceiling, or whatever other lesson Flitwick had cooked up that time."

"Well," Ron said, thoughtfully, "I'd say my favourite is probably… hm… I'd like Defence Against the Dark Arts if Quirrel wasn't quite as rubbish… Neville likes Herbology… yeah, Herbology. Unless we're counting flying lessons."

"We're not." Harry assured him, yawning.