Chapter 111: Hagrid

"There's still something missing." Chris said thoughtfully. "We're still missing something. I mean after hearing the story of Mr Crouch, he doesn't strike me as a person who'll help someone out of generosity. So why's he so worried about Bertha Jorkins?"

"I also found out something interesting there." Sirius said, looking impressed by Chris. "When I was looking through the Daily Prophet news, I saw Bagman blustering on about how bad Bertha's memory is. I thought, maybe she's changed since I knew her, but the Bertha I knew wasn't forgetful at all — quite the reverse. She was a bit dim, but she had an excellent memory for gossip. It used to get her into a lot of trou­ble; she never knew when to keep her mouth shut."

"Then what happened to her?" Hermione asked.

"I did a little bit digging about Bertha, and his carrier after Hogwarts." Sirius said. "You won't believe what I found out. According to few Ministry employees, Bertha's memory was suddenly effected when she returned from a vacation. Everyone thought maybe she had an some kind of accidents."

"That can happen to anyone. What's surprising in that?" Harry said blankly.

"Here the surprise is, guess she was working for whom, that time?" Sirius asked.

"Mr Crouch." Chris and Hermione said at once.

"Exactly. She was working with Crouch that time. I thought about it, Bertha loosing memory when she was under Crouch and after her disappearance Crouch's personal effort to look for her, there have to be a connection somewhere."

"There's no coincidence in Wizarding world." Chris said seriously. "There must be some connection. I can think of only one thing which can effect a persons memory that badly in Wizarding world."

"Memory charm." Hermione answered. "What if someone put a memory charm on her and Mr Crouch knew about it."

"I was thinking the same." Chris said.

"I agree, that's the only possibility." Sirius sighed. "Bertha was always nossy, so maybe she knew something confidential and Crouch is trying to save the secret. But he's ill now, even not coming to the Ministry office anymore, doesn't sound like him though; but the truth is there is no sign of him. He's giving orders to Ron's brother, what's his name.. Percy. Yes, I saw him at the Ministry working for Crouch."

There was a strong silence.

"Listen I'm telling this to you because I want you to be more careful now on." Sirius continued. "Chris, I saw when the Dragon attacked the stands, I was there. I tried to reach but you were quick that's a good thing. But it was not normal for a dragon so I want each one of you to be more careful until the end of the tournament."

The four of them nodded.

"Very well then. Let's have some butterbeer on three broomsticks, what do you say?" Sirius grinned.

And all of them set off to three broomsticks.

"How are you doing with your second task Harry?" Sirius asked. "Solved the golden egg?"

"I reckon I've got a pretty good idea what it's about now," Harry said.

"Well done." Sirius grabbed his shoulder. "Then I must say, you inherited Lily's intelligence."

"...er..." Harry looked embarrassed. "What about Dad?"

"James." Sirius smiled. "He was brave, great Quidditch player but our brains were always in trouble making."

They all entered three broomsticks.

"Madam Rosmerta!" Sirius roared.

"Black." She smiled and came towards them.

"How are you? You're still as beautiful as the last time I saw you." Sirius said and kissed her hand.

"Oh stop it. Go and find a table. I'm sending the drinks for you all." She grinned and went back.

All five of them sat on a corner table. Sirius was telling them stories of his school days.

"And one time, me and James went to fight the Giant Squid." Sirius said laughing. "We were in third year that time. Remus was so angry when he found out. We lied, saying we were interested to see the mermaids...." he continued. "And so many times Lily caught us sneaking around the castle at night. We used to hid under James's invisibility cloak after that."

"Hello, Mr Black." Fred and George came.

"How are you boys?" Sirius asked fondly. "Heard about your new invention. Truly inspiring."

Fred and George sat and to everyone's surprise confessed that they were trying to sell their inventions, and that's why they were writing to Bagman.

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"Why didn't you asked me?" Sirius said seriously. "I can talk to Zonko. But I suggest you to open your own shop. Create your own thing."

"That's a great idea Mr Black but...." before George finished an unpleasant voice interrupted.

"Mr Black."

It was Rita Skeeter.

"How lovely!" She beamed at them. "How about a interview? You and Harry..."

"I wouldn't come near you with a ten-foot broomstick," said Harry furiously. "What did you do that to Hagrid for, eh?"

Rita Skeeter just reminded them about Hagrid. Hermione, Chris, Ron and Harry all of them were glaring at her. Rita Skeeter raised her heavily penciled eyebrows.

"Our readers have a right to the truth, Harry. I am merely doing my ..." she tried to come close to their table.

"Who cares if he's half-giant?" Harry shouted. "There's nothing wrong with him!"

The whole pub had gone very quiet. Madam Rosmerta was star­ing over from behind the bar, apparently oblivious to the fact that the flagon she was filling with mead was overflowing.

Rita Skeeter's smile flickered very slightly, but she hitched it back almost at once; she snapped open her crocodile-skin handbag, pulled out her Quick-Quotes Quill, and said, "How about giving me an interview about the Hagrid you know, Harry? The man be­hind the muscles? Your unlikely friendship and the reasons behind it. Would you call him a father substitute?"

"This is forth time I'm telling you Rita," Sirius got up smiling but that smile wasn't really friendly one. "I'm Harry's Godfather and I don't want you to be around him. And about that interview, you're a capable women, you can write about anyone, without taking their interview. Isn't it like this always?"

Rita Skeeter narrowed her eyes.

"I tell the truth Mr Black. It's my job." She said coldly.

"Your job?" Chris got up. "What is it? Making stories about people? Writing fictions on news paper?"

"You don't know me little girl, you've no idea what I can do." Rita Skeeter said grinning.

"If you're thinking to write about me again, then go on." Chris folded her hand in front her chest. "Let me tell you something Miss Skeeter, I don't give a damn what you write about me."

Rita Skeeter glared at Chris, she didn't take her eyes off.

"I don't know about you, Rita but we all have our lives to think about, you see, we all are really busy." Sirius said and signed them to follow him out.

They all got up and followed Sirius out one by one. Many people were staring at them as they went. Chris glanced back as they reached the door. Rita Skeeter's Quick-Quotes Quill was out; it was zooming backward and forward over a piece of parchment on the table.

"Now you lot back to castle before she grabs any of you." Sirius said hugging Harry once more. "And take care."

"We're going to Hagrid's." Chris said as they entered the castle grounds. "That's enough, Hagrid isn't hiding anymore! That Skeeter can't control our lives. First that new Professor and now this Rita Skeeter. I'd enough."

Chris, Harry, Ron and Hermione ran through the grounds to Hagrid's cabin.

The curtains were still drawn, and they could hear Fang barking as they approached.

"Hagrid!" Chris shouted, pounding on his front door. "Ha­grid, that's enough! We know you're in there!Nobody cares if your mum was a giantess, Hagrid! If you're not going to open this time I'm going to break it. We need our Care of Magical Creatures teacher back. You can't avoid us...."

The door opened. "Anymore!" Chris completed and then stopped, very suddenly, because she had found herself face-to-face, not with Hagrid, but with Albus Dumbledore.

"Good afternoon," he said pleasantly, smiling down at them.

"Professor.... er.... we wanted to see Hagrid," said Chris, while thinking she just threatened Hagrid in front of Dumbledore.

"Yes, I surmised as much," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. "Why don't you come in?"

"Umm... okay." Chris said and she, Hermione, Ron and Harry went into the cabin; Fang launched him­self upon Chris the moment she entered, barking madly and trying to lick her face. Chris hugged him fondly 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.

"More tea, I think," said Dumbledore, closing the door behind, 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. Fang jumped into Chris's lap, Chris scratched him, looking at Dumbledore. There was a slight pause, and then Dumbledore said, "Did you by any chance hear what Miss Norton was shouting, Hagrid?"

"I wasn't really going to break the door." Chris whispered.

Dumbledore smiled at her and continued, "They 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?"

Two fat tears leaked out of Hagrid's beetle-black eyes and fell slowly into his tangled beard.

"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."

"All of the people in school don't like me much either, do they?" Chris said still patting Fang. "If you're going to think about the people like Malfoy then I don't know what to say. Weren't you the one, who told me and Hermione that there is nothing wrong to be muggle-borns? Now you're hiding in this cabin for the same reason."

"Yeh — yeh're not half-giant!" said Hagrid croakily. "That's different."

"So what Hagrid?" Chris said angrily. "We don't know who your mother was. We just know you and I feel that's enough for me. You're the person who loves every creature and never hurt anyone. No matter what people think you're the best Care of Magical Creatures teacher for us."

"Yes. Come back and teach, Hagrid," said Hermione quietly, "please come back, we really miss you."

Hagrid gulped. More tears leaked out down his cheeks and into his tangled beard.

Dumbledore stood up. "I think Miss Norton told you everything I was asking you to understand. So 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."

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.

"C'mon Hagrid, Chris punched Malfoy for you and got detention." Ron said. "Can I have one of these cakes, Hagrid?"

Hagrid looked up, "Help yerself" he said to Ron then looked at Chris. "Yeh shouldn't 've Chris."

"It's alright. I don't get detention much. Now tell me are you going to face the world confidently or still going to hide here for rest of your life?" Chris said.

"Great man, Dumbledore … great man …" 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.

Chris smiled seeing the picture.