Ron and I fell silent as Harry rushed down from the boys dorm, the map and cloak clutched in his hands, and after a few seconds of silence Hermione hurried down to joins us donning a hat and gloves.
We crept through the portrait hole and covered ourselves hastily in the cloak — Ron had grown so much he now needed to crouch to prevent his feet showing — then, moving slowly and cautiously, we proceeded down the many staircases, pausing at intervals to check the map for signs of Filch or Mrs. Norris.
We were lucky; we saw nobody but Nearly Headless Nick, who was gliding along absentmindedly humming something that sounded funnily like "Weasley Is Our King."
We crept across the entrance hall and then out into the silent, snowy grounds. Until I saw little golden squares of light ahead and smoke coiling up from Hagrid's chimney. Harry set off at a quick march, the rest of us jostling and bumping along behind him, and we crunched excitedly through the thickening snow until at last we reached the wooden front door; when Harry raised his fist and knocked three times, a dog started barking frantically inside.
"Hagrid, it's us!" Harry called through the keyhole.
"Shoulda known!" said a gruff voice.
We beamed at one another under the cloak; we could tell that Hagrid's voice was pleased. "Bin home three seconds . . . Out the way, Fang . . . Out the way, yeh dozy dog . . ."
The bolt was drawn back, the door creaked open, and Hagrid's head appeared in the gap.
Hermione screamed.
"Merlin's beard, keep it down!" said Hagrid hastily, staring wildly over their heads. "Under that cloak, are yeh? Well, get in, get in!"
"I'm sorry!" Hermione gasped, as the four of us squeezed past Hagrid into the house and pulled the cloak off ourselves so he could see us. "I just — oh, Hagrid !"
"It's nuthin', it's nuthin'!" said Hagrid hastily, shutting the door behind us and hurrying to close all the curtains, but Hermione continued to gaze up at him in horror.
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, twice the size of a normal man and three times as broad, 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 their 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 us all, but wincing. "Blimey, it's good ter see you four again — had good summers, did yeh?"
"Hagrid what happened!" I asked him.
"You've been attacked!" said Ron.
"Well that much was obvious!" I shot back at Ron.
"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.
"That's a good point Ron. Would you Hagrid?" I pressed him.
"You ought to go and see Madam Pomfrey, Hagrid," said Hermione anxiously. "Some of those cuts look nasty."
YOU ARE READING
The Weasley of Slytherin: The Order of the Phoenix
Fanfiction(Y/n) "Weasley" having learned about his biological father and more about the mysterious Edgar enters his fifth year of Hogwarts only to be greeted with more chaos
