Percy Jackson and the Department of Mysteries

106) The Wicked Witch Arrives

"So what happened?" Harry said, done with the reminiscing. "Did you ever get near any of the other giants?"

"What?" Hagrid blinked. "Oh... oh yeah, we did. Yeah, on the third night after Karkus was killed, we crept outta the cave we'd bin hidin' in and headed back down inter the gully, keepin' our eyes skinned fer the Death Eaters. Got inside a few o' the caves, no go — then, in abou' the sixth one, we found three giants hidin'."

"Must've been cramped," I said.

"Wasn' room to swing a kneazle," Hagrid agreed, though I had no clue why he wanted to swing a kneazle, nor how he would manage it. Surely the kneazle would get away, they were much too slinky to be swung.

"Didn't they attack you when they saw you?" Hermione asked.

"Probably woulda done if they'd bin in any condition, but they was badly hurt, all three o' them. Golgomath's lot had beaten 'em unconscious; they'd woken up an' crawled inter the nearest shelter they could find. Anyway, one o' them had a bit of English an' 'e translated fer the others, an' what we had ter say didn' seem ter go down too badly. So we kep' goin' back, visitin' the wounded.... I reckon we had abou' six or seven o' them convinced at one poin'."

Ron looked pleased with those numbers, but Hermione frowned and said, "What do you mean 'at one point,' Hagrid?"

Hagrid's eyes darkened, "Golgomath's lot raised the caves. The ones tha' survived didn' wan' no more ter do with us after that."

"So... so there aren't any giants coming?" Ron looked disappointed.

"Nope," Hagrid sighed, "but we did wha' we meant ter do, we gave 'em Dumbledore's message an' some o' them heard it an' I 'spect some o' them'll remember it. Jus' maybe, them that don' want ter stay around Golgomath'll move outta the mountains, an' there's gotta be a chance they'll remember Dumbledore's friendly to 'em.... Could be they'll come..."

I looked down. Yeah, maybe they would remember Dumbledore's kindness. Or maybe they wouldn't leave their only home. Maybe they'd overthrow Golgomath and not need to speak to anyone — Death Eaters and Dumbledore stuffed in the back of their minds.

We couldn't bank on receiving help from the giants. We could take precautions against having them as an enemy, though.

"Hagrid?" Hermione said after a while, voice soft.

"Mmm?"

"Did you... was there any sign of... did you hear anything about your... your... mother while you were there?" Hermione bit her lip as Hagrid turned to stare at her. "I'm sorrry... I... forget it —"

"Dead," Hagrid said gruffly. "Died years ago. They told me."

"Oh... I'm... I'm really sorry," Hermione said in barely more than a whisper.

Hagrid shrugged, "No need. Can't remember her much. Wasn' a great mother."

Hagrid looked down, then back up when he saw we all were staring at him.

"I get the feeling," I said, "that great parents are hard to come by." I wanted to look away from Hagrid, but I didn't. "But even not-great parents can lead to some pretty great people. You'd be a different person if she were a great mother, and I don't think I want that."

Hagrid smiled behind his steak.

We were silent again for a while.

"You still haven't explained how you got in this state, Hagrid," Ron gestured to the mess that was Hagrid's face.

"Or why you came back so late," Harry added. "Sirius says Madame Maxime got back ages ago —"

"Who attacked you?" Ron interrupted, and I had to, for once, agree with his priorities. Imagine a kid came back after curfew with their face all busted and the mother was like, why were you late? but the father was like, who hurt you? I've got to side with the father for that one.

"I haven't been attacked!" Hagrid said, his clearly attacked face not helping his case. "I —"

His words were cut off by a knock at the door. Hermione was so surprised that she dropped her mug, letting it shatter on the floor. Fang started barking.

"You're shitting me!" I hissed out, making sure my voice was low as we all stared at the window. The outline of a squat, ugly hairdo (the only thing it looked good on was her personality, which I think matched it quite well) against the curtain.

"It's her!" Ron whispered as if it weren't obvious to the rest of us.

"Get under here!" Harry stepped into action, pulling the cloak over himself and Hermione. Ron and I dashed around to get under it as well, and we backed ourselves into a corner, huddled up.

"Hagrid, hide our mugs!" I ordered as he nearly opened the door. He hid them under Fang's dogbed (which would have been a terrible hiding place if not for the fact it was in a basket), and moved to the door, toeing away Fang as he opened it.

Umbridge stood there in a green tweed cloak, matching green earmuffs pressed over her head. With lips pursed, she leaned back so she could see Hagrid's face. She really looked like a frog then. I nearly laughed, but Harry knew me too well, and dug his elbow into my side. That nearly made me gasp. He didn't really think that through.

"So," Umbridge said, speaking slowly as if she thought Hagrid wouldn't be able to understand her — as if he were dumb. "You're Hagrid, are you?" She didn't wait for an answer, and strolled into the hut. Fang, who normally would be eager to meet someone new, had moved to lie on his bed. He didn't mind the mugs too much.

"Er — I don' want ter be rude," Hagrid said, setting up for his upcoming rudeness, "but who the ruddy hell are you?"

I nearly face palmed.

The toad's eyes sweeped around the cabin, her eyes passing over our hiding spot several times, each occasion sending spikes through my spine, "My name is Dolores Umbridge."

My mother brought me my favorite food ~ love me some of my grandpa's ribs. Ribs are great, but in general they aren't my favorite. But his? My oh my, I would die for them. She got them from this girl's birthday party that my grandpa cooked for. He invited me and Kadee (we could not go due to quarantining), my mother, and my cousin-in-law and his family. I'm not sure why he invited family, none of us know these people, but he makes good food so I would not have minded. My dog is begging for my ribs. Normally he doesn't start really begging immediately, but as soon as I sat down he was jumping up and crying. I understand, little man. I would do the same in the face of these glorious ribs, but they are mine, not yours. Also I don't know how your stomach would handle the sauce, dog.

Anyway, I hope you guys have had a fergalicious Friday, and I'll see you on Sunday CT. Love ya!