"Good afternoon," he said pleasantly, smiling down at us.
"We — er — we wanted to see Hagrid," said Hermione in a rather small voice.
"Yes, I surmised as much," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. "Why don't you come in?"
"Oh . . . um . . . okay," said Hermione. We went into the cabin; Fang launched himself upon Harry the moment he entered, barking madly and trying to lick his ears. Harry fended off Fang and looked around.
Hagrid was sitting at his table, where there were two large mugs of tea. He looked a real mess. His face was blotchy, his eyes swollen, and he had gone to the other extreme where his hair was concerned; far from trying to make it behave, it now looked like a wig of tangled wire.
"Hi, Hagrid," said Harry. Hagrid looked up. " 'Lo," he said in a very hoarse voice.
"Hagrid, what's going on?" I said. He didn't answer.
"More tea, I think," said Dumbledore, closing the door behind us, drawing out his wand, and twiddling it; a revolving tea tray appeared in midair along with a plate of cakes. Dumbledore magicked the tray onto the table, and everybody sat down. There was a slight pause, and then Dumbledore said, "Did you by any chance hear what Miss Granger was shouting, Hagrid?" Hermione went slightly pink, but Dumbledore smiled at her and continued, "Hermione, Harry, Ron and Ginny still seem to want to know you, judging by the way they were attempting to break down the door."
"Of course we still want to know you!" Harry said, staring at Hagrid. "You don't think anything that Skeeter cow — sorry, Professor," he added quickly, looking at Dumbledore.
"I have gone temporarily deaf and haven't any idea what you said, Harry," said Dumbledore, twiddling his thumbs and staring at the ceiling.
"Er — right," said Harry sheepishly. "I just meant — Hagrid, how could you think we'd care what that — woman — wrote about you?"
"Yeah!" I added, banging my fist on the table, "we all know she's horrible and a serial liar, we don't take anything she says seriously!"
"Living proof of what I've been telling you, Hagrid," said Dumbledore, still looking carefully up at the ceiling. "I have shown you the letters from the countless parents who remember you from their own days here, telling me in no uncertain terms that if I sacked you, they would have something to say about it —"
"Not all of 'em," said Hagrid hoarsely. "Not all of 'em wan' me ter stay."
"Really, Hagrid, if you are holding out for universal popularity, I'm afraid you will be in this cabin for a very long time," said Dumbledore, now peering sternly over his half-moon spectacles. "Not a week has passed since I became headmaster of this school when I haven't had at least one owl complaining about the way I run it. But what should I do? Barricade myself in my study and refuse to talk to anybody?"
"Yeh — yeh're not half-giant!" said Hagrid croakily.
"Hagrid, look what I've got for relatives!" Harry said furiously. "Look at the Dursleys!"
"An excellent point," said Professor Dumbledore. "My own brother, Aberforth, was prosecuted for practicing inappropriate charms on a goat. It was all over the papers, but did Aberforth hide? No, he did not! He held his head high and went about his business as usual! Of course, I'm not entirely sure he can read, so that may not have been bravery. . . ."
"Come back and teach, Hagrid," said Hermione quietly, "please come back, we really miss you."
"We'll do everything we can to help you succeed Hagrid, we'll put twice as much effort into our classes with you, hell, we'll do extra homework if you want us to!" I said
Ron started to object, but Hermione and I sent him furious glares and he fell silent. Ok, I may have been lying about the homework part, but come on, I had to try and be as persuasive as possible! What are you looking at me like that for? Look, I didn't believe he'd set his four favourite students extra work anyway! If he doubted my words, he didn't say it. He gulped. More tears leaked out down his cheeks and into his tangled beard.
Dumbledore stood up. "I refuse to accept your resignation, Hagrid, and I expect you back at work on Monday," he said. "You will join me for breakfast at eight-thirty in the Great Hall. No excuses. Good afternoon to you all."
Was it legal to refuse to accept someone's resignation? I wasn't about to voice this thought though obviously.
Dumbledore left the cabin, pausing only to scratch Fang's ears. When the door had shut behind him, Hagrid began to sob into his dustbin-lid-sized hands. Hermione kept patting his arm, and at last, Hagrid looked up, his eyes very red indeed, and said, "Great man, Dumbledore . . . great man . . ." "Yeah, he is," said Ron. "Can I have one of these cakes, Hagrid?" "Help yerself," said Hagrid, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand. "Ar, he's righ', o' course — yeh're all righ' . . . I bin stupid . . . my ol' dad woulda bin ashamed o' the way I've bin behavin'. . . More tears leaked out, but he wiped them away more forcefully, and said, "Never shown you a picture of my old dad, have I? Here . . ."
Hagrid got up, went over to his dresser, opened a drawer, and pulled out a picture of a short wizard with Hagrid's crinkled black eyes, beaming as he sat on top of Hagrid's shoulder. Hagrid was a good seven or eight feet tall, judging by the apple tree beside him, but his face was beardless, young, round, and smooth — he looked hardly older than eleven.
"Tha' was taken jus' after I got inter Hogwarts," Hagrid croaked. "Dad was dead chuffed . . . thought I migh' not be a wizard, see, 'cos me mum . . . well, anyway. 'Course, I never was great shakes at magic, really . . . but at least he never saw me expelled. Died, see, in me second year. . . . "Dumbledore was the one who stuck up for me after Dad went. Got me the gamekeeper job . . . trusts people, he does. Gives 'em second chances . . . tha's what sets him apar' from other heads, see. He'll accept anyone at Hogwarts, s'long as they've got the talent. Knows people can turn out okay even if their families weren' . . . well . . . all tha' respectable. But some don' understand that. There's some who'd always hold it against yeh . . . there's some who'd even pretend they just had big bones rather than stand up an' say — I am what I am, an' I'm not ashamed.
'Never be ashamed,' my ol' dad used ter say, 'there's some who'll hold it against you, but they're not worth botherin' with.' An' he was right. I've bin an idiot. I'm not botherin' with her no more, I promise yeh that. Big bones . . . I'll give her big bones." We looked at one another nervously and I bit my lip. We would rather have taken fifty Blast-Ended Skrewts for a walk than admit to Hagrid that we had overheard him talking to Madame Maxime, but Hagrid was still talking, apparently unaware that he had said anything odd.
"Yeh know wha', Harry?" he said, looking up from the photograph of his father, his eyes very bright, "when I firs' met you, you reminded me o' me a bit. Mum an' Dad gone, an' you was feelin' like yeh wouldn' fit in at Hogwarts, remember? Not sure yeh were really up to it . . . an' now look at yeh, Harry! School champion!"
He looked at Harry for a moment and then said, very seriously, "Yeh know what I'd love, Harry? I'd love yeh ter win, I really would. It'd show 'em all . . . yeh don' have ter be pureblood ter do it. Yeh don' have ter be ashamed of what yeh are. It'd show 'em Dumbledore's the one who's got it righ', lettin' anyone in as long as they can do magic. How you doin' with that egg, Harry?"
"Great," said Harry. "Really great." Hagrid's miserable face broke into a wide, watery smile. "Tha's my boy . . . you show 'em, Harry, you show 'em. Beat 'em all."
Harry and I exchanged a look. Lying to Hagrid wasn't quite like lying to anyone else.