Daylight || Harry Potter

Chapter Nineteen

Banned.

Harry, Fred, and George were all banned from the Quidditch team; Harry and George for beating Malfoy up and Fred for wanting to beat Malfoy up. I would've gone to Umbridge to try to argue with her myself, but Angelina and Harry convinced me it was pointless. Arguing with that woman would be like arguing with a wall.

Therefore I decided to take my frustrations out on the dummies in the training room until Hermione snitched on me and sent Luke to get me to come upstairs for dinner.

On the bright side, Hagrid had returned that night and we hurried across the grounds to visit him. Hermione screamed when she saw him, causing us to shush her, but her concern was legitimate: Hagrid's hair was matted with congealed blood, and his left eye had been reduced to a puffy slit amid a mass of purple-and-black bruises. There were many cuts on his face and hands, some of them still bleeding, and he was moving gingerly, which made me suspect broken ribs. It was obvious that he had only just got home; a thick black traveling cloak lay over the back of a chair and a haversack large enough to carry several small children leaned against the wall inside the door.

Hagrid himself was now limping over to the fire and placing a copper kettle over it.

"What happened to you?" Harry demanded, while Fang danced around us all, trying to lick our faces.

"Told yeh, nuthin'," said Hagrid firmly. "Want a cuppa?"

"Come off it," said Ron, "you're in a right state!"

"I'm tellin' yeh, I'm fine," said Hagrid, straightening up and turning to beam at them all, but wincing. "Blimey, it's good ter see you lot again — had good summers, did yeh?"

"Hagrid, you've been attacked!" I exclaimed.

"Fer the las' time, it's nuthin'!" said Hagrid firmly.

"Would you say it was nothing if one of us turned up with a pound of mince instead of a face?" Ron demanded.

"You ought to go and see Madam Pomfrey, Hagrid," said Hermione anxiously. "Some of those cuts look nasty."

"I'm dealin' with it, all righ'?" Hagrid grumbled. He walked across to the enormous wooden table that stood in the middle of his cabin and twitched aside a tea towel that had been lying on it. Underneath was a raw, bloody, green-tinged steak slightly larger than the average car tire.

"You're not going to eat that, are you, Hagrid?" I asked, leaning in for a closer look. "It looks poisonous."

"It's s'posed ter look like that, it's dragon meat," Hagrid said. "An' I didn' get it ter eat." He picked up the steak and slapped it over the left side of his face. Greenish blood trickled down into his beard as he gave a soft moan of satisfaction. "Tha's better. It helps with the stingin', yeh know."

"Gods of Olympus," I grumbled. "Hagrid, put that down. I'm healing you."

"I don' think those powers o' yers'll work on —"

"Well, I guess we'll just have to see, huh?" I retorted. "Put the toxic steak down."

"So are you going to tell us what's happened to you?" Harry asked as Hagrid finally put the mystery meat down and let me start healing him.

"Can', Harry. Top secret. More'n me job's worth ter tell yeh that. Oh, tha's much better," He added as I used my powers on his eye.

"Did the giants beat you up, Hagrid?" asked Hermione quietly.

Hagrid jumped, causing me to poke him in the eye.

"Oooooh," I winced, raising my hands away from his face as he swore. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry, are okay —"