Book: Courage
Chapter 74
Word Count: 6596
It was the first day of the Easter holidays, meaning there were only six weeks left until exams.
The weather grew breezier, brighter and warmer as the Easter holidays passed, but Layla, along with the rest of the fifth- and seventh-years, was trapped inside, revising, traipsing back and forth to the library.
Mrs Weasley sent Layla a large Easter egg during the holidays, and as much as Layla absolutely adored Mrs Weasley for remembering every year, chocolate was the last thing she wanted, so she simply gave the Easter egg to a second year boy she saw in the common room.
As though to underline the importance of their upcoming examinations, a batch of pamphlets, leaflets and notices concerning various wizarding careers appeared on the tables in Gryffindor Tower shortly before the end of the holidays, along with yet another notice on the board, which read:
CAREERS ADVICE
All fifth-years are required to attend a short meeting with their Head of House during the first week of the summer term to discuss
their future careers. Times of individual appointments are listed below.
Layla looked down the list and found that she was expected in Professor McGonagall's office at half four on Tuesday. She and the other fifth-years spent a considerable part of the final weekend of the Easter break reading all the careers information that had been left there for their perusal.
On Tuesday, Layla finished her last class of the day before heading off to meet Professor McGonagall. Layla knocked on the door and then peaked her head in.
"Am I late?"
"Not at all, Miss Lupin. Come in," McGonagall said briskly, but as she spoke, somebody else sniffed from the corner. Layla looked round.
Professor Umbridge was sitting there, a clipboard on her knee, a fussy little pie-frill around her neck and a small, horribly smug smile on her face.
"Sit down, Miss Lupin," said Professor McGonagall tersely. Her hands shook slightly as she shuffled the many pamphlets littering her desk.
Layla sat down with her back to Umbridge and did her best to pretend she could not hear the scratching of Umbridge's quill on her clipboard.
"Well, Miss Lupin, this meeting is to talk over any career ideas you might have, and to help you decide which subjects you should continue into the sixth and seventh years," said Professor McGonagall. "Have you had any thoughts about what you would like to do after you leave Hogwarts?"
"Well, I mean, I've always hoped that I would one day be a professor," Layla mumbled. She was finding the scratching noise from behind her very distracting.
"Okay, good. Of course, some wizarding schools accept professors with little qualifications, and others accept professors with plenty," said Professor McGonagall, extracting a small, dark leaflet from under the mass on her desk and opening it. "For example, if you applied to teach here and there is a spot open, it is very likely that you would get the job with or without qualifications. However, if you intend to week at, say, Durmstrang, you would need at least four NEWTs, and nothing under 'Exceeds Expectations' grade. It may not be a very difficult career path, Miss Lupin, but if you wish to become a professor as I am certain you will get there, you must be dedicated and prepared."
At this moment, Professor Umbridge gave a very tiny cough, as though she was trying to see how quietly she could do it. Professor McGonagall ignored her.
"You'll want to know which subjects you ought to take, I suppose?" she went on, talking a little louder than before. "What are you hoping to teach in the future?"
"Either Care of Magical Creatures, or Defence Against the Dark Arts, I suppose. I haven't completely decided."
"Alright, you will require a NEWT in the subject you wish to teach, so I would recommend those two classes," said Professor McGonagall. "I would also advise—"
Professor Umbridge gave another cough, a little more audible this time. Professor McGonagall closed her eyes for a moment, opened them again, and continued as though nothing had happened.
"I would also advise Charms, because professors are required to know as many advanced spells as possible. Potions is optional, of course, for the teaching branch, but it is there if you choose to take that class—"
Professor Umbridge gave her most pronounced cough yet.
"May I offer you a cough drop, Dolores?"
Professor McGonagall asked curtly, without looking at Professor Umbridge.
"Oh, no, thank you very much," said Umbridge, with that simpering laugh Layla hated so much. "I just wondered whether I could make the teensiest interruption, Minerva?"
"I daresay you'll find you can," said Professor McGonagall through tightly gritted teeth.
"I was just wondering whether Miss Lupin will indeed make it as a professor," said Professor Umbridge sweetly.
"And why do you say that?" said Professor McGonagall haughtily.
"Well, does that look like a student who would be given a place at a school around young students?" Umbridge scoffed. "Pink hair, scruffy clothing, a rebellious attitude, violent tendencies."
"I—"
"No, I'm sorry, I have to interrupt here," Layla interrupted Professor McGonagall, turning around in her seat to glare at Umbridge. "You don't know me, so stop acting like you do. I'm a teenager, professor. Name one teenager who has not made a mistake or two. I may not look the part now, but that's because I'm still in school obviously! I don't need to look the part right now. My hair colour doesn't determine my profession, my scruffy clothes are simply because I had to hurry all the way here to make sure I was here on time, I am only rebellious when I need to be, and I haven't laid a finger on anyone in weeks. As much as you hate it, I'm trying to do better, because I want to get a good career and make a life for myself. I care about my education, and I want to be the reason that students look forward to learning. I want to be the reason why they get good grades, get good jobs in the future. I want to make a difference for students, and if you have failed to look at my current grades in almost every one of my lessons, I'm smart enough to get the qualifications to be a professor and help shape young minds to be extraordinary witches and wizards, and there is no way in hell I am going to let you try and steer me away from a career that I want!"
"Well," Umbridge gasped, looking offended, narrowing her eyes angrily at Layla. "How dare you?"
"No, how dare you?!" yelled Layla. "You're supposed to help us achieve our dreams instead of crushing them! What kind of headmistress are you?!"
That instantly silenced Umbridge, who glared at Layla but did not say another word. Layla turned back to McGonagall.
"I'm sorry about that, professor. I couldn't help myself."
"No, don't be sorry," Professor Mcgonagall whispered quietly so that Umbridge wouldn't hear. "If you did not say something, I would have."
Layla cracked a small smile as they continued on with their meeting.
Later that day, Layla made her way quietly through the hallways, thinking angrily of all of the things that she wanted to do to Umbridge, when she came to a sudden halt as noise filled her ears. The noise was coming from the Entrance Hall.
The worst case scenario struck Layla's mind: Had Umbridge sacked another teacher? So, without another word, Layla span around and headed down the nearest staircase to the Entrance Hall.
It was just like the night when Trelawney had been sacked. Students were standing all around the walls in a great ring (some of them, Layla noticed, covered in a substance that looked very like Stinksap); teachers and ghosts were also in the crowd. Prominent among the onlookers were members of the Inquisitorial Squad, who were all looking exceptionally pleased with themselves, and Peeves, who was bobbing overhead, gazed down at Fred and George who stood in the middle of the floor with the unmistakeable look of two people who had just been cornered.
"So!" said Umbridge triumphantly, once more looking down upon her prey. "So — you think it amusing to turn a school corridor into a swamp, do you?"
"Pretty amusing, yeah," said Fred, looking up at her without the slightest sign of fear.
Filch elbowed his way closer to Umbridge, almost crying with happiness.
"I've got the form, Headmistress," he said hoarsely, waving a piece of parchment. "I've got the form and I've got the whips waiting... oh, let me do it now..."
"Very good, Argus," she said. "You two," she went on, gazing down at Fred and George, "are about to learn what happens to wrongdoers in my school."
"You know what?" said Fred. "I don't think we are."
He turned to his twin.
"George," said Fred, "I think we've outgrown full-time education."
"Yeah, I've been feeling that way myself," said George lightly.
"Time to test our talents in the real world, d'you reckon?" asked Fred.
"Definitely," said George.
And before Umbridge could say a word, they raised their wands and said together:
"Accio brooms!"
Layla heard a loud crash somewhere in the distance. Looking to her left, she ducked just in time. Fred and George's broomsticks, one still trailing the heavy chain and iron peg with which Umbridge had fastened them to the wall, were hurtling along the corridor towards their owners; they turned left, streaked down the stairs and stopped sharply in front of the twins, the chain clattering loudly on the flagged stone floor.
"We won't be seeing you," Fred told Professor Umbridge, swinging his leg over his broomstick.
"Yeah, don't bother to keep in touch," said George, mounting his own.
Fred looked around at the assembled students, at the silent, watchful crowd.
"It anyone fancies buying a Portable Swamp, as demonstrated upstairs, come to number ninety-three, Diagon Alley — Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes," he said in a loud voice. "Our new premises!"
"Special discounts to Hogwarts students who swear they're going to use our products to get rid of this old bat," added George, pointing at Professor Umbridge.
"STOP THEM!" shrieked Umbridge, but it was too late. As the Inquisitorial Squad closed in, Fred and George kicked off from the floor, shooting fifteen feet into the air, the iron peg swinging dangerously below. Fred looked across the hall and scanned the crowd as if searching for a certain someone, and eventually, his eyes landed right on Layla, smirking and winking playfully at the girl.
"Give her hell from us, Baby Lupin."
"Come on, Freddie, you know I will," Layla smirked back, saluting the twins.
Fred and George wheeled about to tumultuous applause from the students below and sped out of the open front doors into the glorious sunset.
The story of Fred and George's flight to freedom was retold so often over the next few days that Layla could tell it would soon become the stuff of Hogwarts legend: within a week, even those who had been eye-witnesses were half-convinced they had seen the twins dive-bomb Umbridge on their brooms and pelt her with Dungbombs before zooming out of the doors. In the immediate aftermath of their departure there was a great wave of talk about copying them. Layla frequently heard students saying things like, "Honestly, some days I just feel like jumping on my broom and leaving this place," or else, "One more lesson like that and I might just do a Weasley."
Fred and George had made sure nobody was likely to forget them too soon. For one thing, they had not left instructions on how to remove the swamp that now filled the corridor on the fifth floor of the east wing. Umbridge and Filch had been observed trying different means of removing it but without success. Eventually, the area was roped off and Filch, gnashing his teeth furiously, was given the task of punting students across it to their classrooms. Layla was certain that teachers like McGonagall or Flitwick could have removed the swamp in an instant but, just as in the case of Fred and George's Wildfire Whiz-bangs, they seemed to prefer to watch Umbridge struggle.
Then there were the two large broom-shaped holes in Umbridge's office door, through which Fred and George's Cleansweeps had smashed to rejoin their masters. Filch fitted a new door and removed Layla's and Harry's brooms to the dungeons where, it was rumoured, Umbridge had set an armed security troll to guard them. However, her troubles were far from over.
Inspired by Fred and George's example, a great number of students were now vying for the newly vacant positions of Troublemakers-in-Chief. In spite of the new door, somebody managed to slip a hairy-snouted Niffler into Umbridge's office, which promptly tore the place apart in its search for shiny objects, leapt on Umbridge when she entered and tried to gnaw the rings off her stubby fingers. Dungbombs and Stink Pellets were dropped so frequently in the corridors that it became the new fashion for students to perform Bubble-Head Charms on themselves before leaving lessons, which ensured them a supply of fresh air, even though it gave them all the peculiar appearance of wearing upside-down goldfish bowls on their heads.
Filch prowled the corridors with a horsewhip ready in his hands, desperate to catch miscreants, but the problem was that there were now so many of them he never knew which way to turn. The Inquisitorial Squad was attempting to help him, but odd things kept happening to its members. Warrington of the Slytherin Quidditch team reported to the hospital wing with a horrible skin complaint that made him look as though he had been coated in cornflakes; Pansy Parkinson, to Layla's delight, missed all her lessons the following day as she had sprouted antlers.
Meanwhile, it became clear just how many Skiving Snackboxes Fred and George had managed to sell before leaving Hogwarts. Umbridge only had to enter her classroom for the students assembled there to faint, vomit, develop dangerous fevers or else spout blood from both nostrils. Shrieking with rage and frustration, she attempted to trace the mysterious symptoms to their source, but the students told her stubbornly they were suffering from 'Umbridge-itis'. Alter putting four successive classes in detention and failing to discover their secret, she was forced to give up and allow the bleeding, swooning, sweating and vomiting students to leave her classes in droves.
On her way to Charms one morning, Layla was cornered by Peeves. Mildly expecting Peeves to prank her or get her in trouble somehow, Layla was rather surprised when Peeves had requested that she help him with a number of pranks. Peeves had clearly heard what Fred had said to her the night of his and George's departure, so of course, Layla agreed.
Together, Layla and Peeves secretly stormed the school, upending tables, toppling statues and vases; twice they shut Mrs Norris inside a suit of armour,
from which she was rescued, yowling loudly, by the furious caretaker. Layla and Peeves smashed lanterns and snuffed out candles, caused neatly stacked piles of parchment to topple into fires or out of windows, and flooded the second floor when they pulled off all the taps in the bathrooms.
To cap matters, Montague had still not recovered from his sojourn in the toilet; he remained confused and disorientated and his parents were to be observed one Tuesday morning striding up the front drive, looking extremely angry.
"Should we say something?" said Hermione in a worried voice, pressing her cheek against the Charms window so that she could see Mr and Mrs Montague marching inside. "About what happened to him? In case it helps Madam Pomfrey cure him?"
"Of course not, he'll recover," said Layla with a nonchalant shrug. "Anyway, more trouble for Umbridge, isn't it?"
"That's all very well, but what if Montague's permanently injured?" Hermione pointed out.
"'Mione, he's not permanently injured, okay? Relax, he'll be fine, I promise," said Layla, followed by a loud sigh. "Besides, Montague had been taking so many points from Gryffindor that it serves him right. Karma is a bi—"
"Language," Hermione scolded. "Why are you doing this? I know that it's been you who's caused havoc over the school with Peeves. The Layla I first met when we were eleven never would have even considered doing half of the pranks that you've been getting up to, no matter how much you hate Umbridge. You've changed so much and I just want the old Layla back. This isn't y—"
"This isn't me? Really?" Layla scoffed angrily. "Classic. You're supposed to be my best friend."
"I am your best friend!"
"Best friends don't try and change each other. This is who I am, can't you just accept that and let me be?" said Layla. "You don't like my personality? Why are you even still talking to me then?"
And with that, Layla angrily collected her things and moved down a few seats to sit beside Neville, leaving behind a stunned, speechless, and hurt Hermione.
The final match of the Quidditch season, Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw, was to take place on the last weekend of May. Although Slytherin had been narrowly defeated by Hufflepuff in their last match, Gryffindor were not daring to hope for victory, due mainly (though of course nobody said it to him) to Ron's abysmal goal-keeping record.
Layla glanced around the stands for a seat before noticing Dean waving her over from beside Neville and Seamus, so Layla wandered over to join them.
Lee Jordan, who had been very dispirited since Fred and George had left, was commentating as usual. As the teams zoomed out on to the pitch he named the players with something less than his usual gusto.
"Bradley... Davies... Chang," he said. "And they're off! And Davies takes the Quaffle immediately, Ravenclaw Captain Davies with the Quaffle, he dodges Johnson, he dodges Bell, he dodges Spinnet as well... he's going straight for goal! He's going to shoot — and — and—" Lee swore very loudly. "And he's scored."
Layla groaned with the rest of the Gryffindors. Predictably, the Slytherins on the other side of the stands began to sing:
"Weasley cannot save a thing
He cannot block a single ring..."
"Layla?" a voice called from behind Layla. A voice she immediately recognised.
"I'm not in the mood, Hermione."
"No, it's just that Hagrid wants you, Harry, and I to follow him," said Hermione quietly so that the three boys beside Layla couldn't hear. "Look, over there."
So, Layla looked round and sure enough, she saw Hagrid's enormous bearded face sticking between the seats. Hagrid's nose was gently dripping blood. His eyes were both blackened. Harry stood beside him.
So, Layla and Hermione edged along the row of seats.
"I 'ppreciate this, you three, I really do," said Hagrid as they reached the stairs. "I jus' hope she doesn' notice us goin'."
"You mean Umbridge?" said Harry. "She won't, she's got her whole Inquisitorial Squad sitting with her, didn't you see? She must be expecting trouble at the match."
"Yeah, well, a bit o' trouble wouldn' hurt," said Hagrid, pausing to peer around the edge of the stands to make sure the stretch of lawn between there and his cabin was deserted. "Give us more time."
"What is it, Hagrid?" said Hermione, looking up at him with a concerned expression on her face as they hurried across the grass towards the edge of the Forest.
"Yeh — yeh'll see in a mo'," said Hagrid, looking over his shoulder as a great roar rose from the stands behind them. "Hey — did someone jus' score?"
"It'll be Ravenclaw," said Layla heavily.
"Good... good..." said Hagrid distractedly. "Tha's good..."
They had to jog to keep up with him as he strode across the lawn, looking around with every other step. When they reached his cabin, Hermione turned automatically left towards the front door. Hagrid, however, walked straight past it into the shade of the trees on the outermost edge of the Forest, where he picked up a crossbow that was leaning against a tree. When he realised they were no longer with him, he turned.
"We're goin' in here," he said, jerking his shaggy head behind him.
"Into the Forest?" said Hermione, perplexed.
"Yeah," said Hagrid. "C'mon now, quick, before we're spotted!"
The three students ducked into the cover of the trees behind Hagrid, who was already striding away from them into the green gloom, his crossbow over his arm.
"Hagrid, why are you armed?" said Layla.
"Jus' a precaution," said Hagrid, shrugging his massive shoulders.
"You didn't bring your crossbow the day you showed us the Thestrals," said Hermione timidly.
"Nah, well, we weren' goin' in so far then," said Hagrid. "An' anyway, tha' was before Firenze left the Forest, wasn' it?"
"Why does Firenze leaving make a difference?" asked Layla.
"Cause the other centaurs are good an' riled at me, tha's why," said Hagrid quietly, glancing around. "They used ter be — well, yeh couldn' call 'em friendly — but we got on all righ'. Kept 'emselves to 'emselves, bu' always turned up if I wanted a word. Not any more."
He sighed deeply.
"Firenze said they're angry because he went to work for Dumbledore," Harry said.
"Yeah," said Hagrid heavily. "Well, angry doesn' cover it. Ruddy livid. If I hadn' stepped in, I reckon they'd've kicked Firenze ter death—"
"They attacked him?" said Layla, sounding shocked.
"Yep," said Hagrid gruffly, forcing his way through several low-hanging branches. "He had half the herd on to him."
"And you stopped it?" said Layla, amazed and impressed. "By yourself?"
"Course I did, couldn't stand by an' watch 'em kill 'im, could I?" said Hagrid. "Lucky I was passin', really... an' I'd've thought Firenze mighta remembered tha' before he started sendin' me stupid warnin's!' he added hotly and unexpectedly. "Anyway, since then the other centaurs've bin livid with me, an' the trouble is they've got a lot of influence in the Forest... cleverest creatures in here."
"Is that why we're here, Hagrid?" asked Hermione. "The centaurs?"
"Ah, no," said Hagrid, shaking his head dismissively, "no, it's not them. Well, o' course, they could complicate the problem, yeah... but yeh'll see what I mean in a bit."
The path was becoming increasingly overgrown and the trees grew so closely together as they walked further and further into the Forest that it was as dark as dusk. Hagrid stepped unexpectedly off the path and began wending his way in and out of trees towards the dark heart of the Forest.
"Hagrid!" said Harry. "Where are we going?"
"Bit further," said Hagrid over his shoulder. "C'mon, Harry... we need ter keep together now."
"Hagrid, would it be all right if we lit our wands?" said Hermione quietly.
"Er... all righ'," Hagrid whispered back. "In fact—"
He stopped suddenly and turned around; Hermione walked right into him and was knocked over backwards. Harry caught her just before she hit the Forest floor. Layla watched that action and a small, unexpected knot formed in her stomach as she rolled her eyes.
"Maybe we bes' jus' stop fer a momen', so I can... fill yeh in," said Hagrid. "Before we ge' there, like."
"Good!" said Hermione. The three students all murmured 'Lumos' and their wand-tips ignited.
"Righ'," said Hagrid. "Well... see... the thing is... well, there's a good chance I'm goin' ter be gettin' the sack any day now."
"But you've lasted this long—" Hermione said tentatively. "What makes you think—"
"Umbridge reckons it was me that put tha' Niffler in her office."
"And was it?" said Harry.
"No, it ruddy well wasn'!" said Hagrid indignantly. "On'y anythin' ter do with magical creatures an' she thinks it's got somethin' ter do with me. Yeh know she's bin lookin' fer a chance ter get rid of me ever since I got back. I don' wan' ter go, o' course, but if it wasn' fer... well... the special circumstances I'm abou' ter explain to yeh, I'd leave righ' now, before she's go' the chance ter do it in front o' the whole school, like she did with Trelawney."
Harry, Layla, and Hermione all made noises of protest, but Hagrid overrode them with a wave of one of his enormous hands.
"It's not the end o' the world, I'll be able ter help Dumbledore once I'm outta here, I can be useful ter the Order. An' you lot'll have Grubbly-Plank, yeh'll — yeh'll get through yer exams fine..."
His voice trembled and broke.
"Don' worry abou' me," he said hastily, as Hermione made to pat his arm. "Look, I wouldn' be tellin' yer this at all if I didn' have ter. See, if I go... well, I can' leave withou'... withou' tellin' someone... because I'll — I'll need yeh three ter help me. An' Ron, if he's willin'."
"Of course we'll help you," said Harry at once. "What do you want us to do?"
"I knew yeh'd say yes," said Hagrid, "but I won'... never... forget... well... c'mon... jus' a little bit further through here... watch yerselves, now, there's nettles..."
They walked on in silence for another fifteen minutes; Layla had opened her mouth to ask how much further they had to go when Hagrid threw out his right arm to signal that they should stop.
"Really easy," he said softly. "Very quiet, now..."
They crept forwards and Layla saw that they were facing a large, smooth mound of earth nearly as tall as Hagrid. Trees had been ripped up at the roots all around the mound, so that it stood on a bare patch of ground surrounded by heaps of trunks and boughs that formed a kind of fence or barricade, behind which Harry, Layla, Hermione and Hagrid now stood.
"Sleepin'," breathed Hagrid.
Sure enough, Layla could hear a distant, rhythmic rumbling that sounded like a pair of enormous lungs at work.
"Hagrid," Hermione said in a whisper barely audible over the sound of the sleeping creature, "who is he? Hagrid, you told us — you told us none of them, wanted to come!"
Layla furrowed her eyebrows in confusion at that.
The great mound of earth, on which she, Harry, Hermione and Hagrid could easily have stood, was moving slowly up and down in time with the deep, grunting breathing. It was not a mound at all. It was the curved back of what was clearly—
"Well — no — he didn' want ter come," said Hagrid, sounding desperate. "But I had ter bring him, Hermione, I had ter!"
"But why?" asked Hermione. "Why — what — oh, Hagrid!"
"I knew if I jus' got him back," said Hagrid, sounding close to tears himself, "an' — an' taught him a few manners — I'd be able ter take him outside an' show ev'ryone he's harmless!"
"Harmless!" said Hermione shrilly, and Hagrid made frantic hushing noises with his hands as the enormous creature before them grunted loudly and shifted in its sleep. "He's been hurting you all this time, hasn't he? That's why you've had all these injuries!"
"He don' know his own strength!" said Hagrid earnestly. "An' he's gettin' better, he's not fightin' so much any more—"
"So, this is why it took you two months to get home!" said Hermione distractedly. "Oh, Hagrid, why did you bring him back if he didn't want to come? Wouldn't he have been happier with his own people?"
"They were all bullyin' him, Hermione, 'cause he's so small!" said Hagrid.
"Small?" said Hermione. "Small?"
"Hermione, I couldn' leave him," said Hagrid. "See — he's my brother!"
"Hagrid, when you say 'brother'," said Layla slowly, "do you mean—"
"Well — half-brother," amended Hagrid. "Turns out me mother took up with another giant when she left me dad, an' she went an' had Grawp here—"
"Grawp?" said Layla.
"Yeah... well, tha's what it sounds like when he says his name," said Hagrid anxiously. "He don' speak a lot of English... I've bin tryin' ter teach him... anyway, she don' seem ter have liked him much more'n she liked me. See, with giantesses, what counts is producin' good big kids, and he's always been a bit on the runty side fer a giant — on'y sixteen foot—"
"Oh, yes, tiny!" said Hermione, with a kind of hysterical sarcasm. "Absolutely minuscule!"
"He was bein' kicked aroun' by all o' them — I jus' couldn' leave him—"
"Did Madame Maxime want to bring him back?" asked Harry.
"She — well, she could see it was right importan' ter me," said Hagrid, twisting his enormous hands. "Bu' — bu' she got a bit tired o' him after a while, I must admit... so we split up on the journey home... she promised not ter tell anyone, though..."
"How on earth did you get him back without anyone noticing?" said Layla.
"Well, tha's why it took so long, see," said Hagrid. "Could on'y travel by nigh' an' through wild country an' stuff. Course, he covers the ground pretty well when he wants ter, but he kep' wantin' ter go back."
"Oh, Hagrid, why on earth didn't you let him!" said Hermione. "What do you think you're going to do with a violent giant who doesn't even want to be here!"
"Well, now — 'violent' — tha's a bit harsh," said Hagrid. "I'll admit he mighta taken a couple o' swings at me when he's bin in a bad mood, but he's gettin' better, loads better, settlin' down well."
"What are those ropes for, then?" Harry asked.
Ropes thick as saplings stretched from around the trunks of the largest nearby trees towards the place where Grawp lay curled on the ground with his back to them.
"You have to keep him tied up?" said Hermione faintly.
"Well... yeah... said Hagrid, looking anxious. "See — it's like I say — he doesn' really know 'is own strength."
"So, what is it you want us to do?" Hermione asked apprehensively.
"Look after him," said Hagrid croakily. "After I'm gone."
"What does that involve, exactly?" Layla enquired.
"Not food or anythin'!" said Hagrid eagerly. "He can get his own fcod, no problem. Birds an' deer an' stuff... no, it's company he needs. It I jus' knew someone was carryin on tryin' ter help him a bit... teachin' him, yeh know."
"You want us to teach him," Harry said in a hollow voice.
"Yeah — even if yeh jus' talk ter him a bit," said Hagrid hopefully. "Cause I reckon, if he can talk ter people, he'll understand more that we all like 'im really, an' want 'im ter stay. Yeh'll do it, then?"
"We'll try, Hagrid," said Harry.
"I knew I could count on yeh, Harry," Hagrid said, beaming in a very watery way. "An' I don' wan' yeh ter put yerself out too much, like... I know yeh've got exams... if yeh could jus' nip down here in yer Invisibility Cloak maybe once a week an' have a little chat with 'im. I'll wake 'im up, then — introduce yeh —"
"Wha— no!" said Hermione, jumping up. "Hagrid, no, don't wake him, really, we don't need—"
But Hagrid had already stepped over the great tree trunk in front of them and was proceeding towards Grawp. When he was about ten feet away, he lifted a long, broken bough from the ground and poked Grawp hard in the middle of the back with the end of the bough.
The giant gave a roar that echoed around the silent Forest; birds in the treetops overhead rose twittering from their perches and soared away. The gigantic Grawp was rising from the ground, which shuddered as he placed an enormous hand upon it to push himself on to his knees. He turned his head to see who and what had disturbed him.
"All righ', Grawpy?" said Hagrid, in a would-be cheery voice, backing away with the long bough raised, ready to poke Grawp again. "Had a nice sleep, eh?"
Grawp knelt between two trees he had not yet uprooted. He raised dirty knuckles, each as big as a cricket ball, to his eyes, rubbed vigorously, then, without warning, pushed himself to his feet with surprising speed and agility.
"Oh my!" Hermione squealed, terrified.
The trees to which the other ends of the ropes around Grawp's wrists and ankles were attached creaked ominously. He was, as Hagrid had said, at least sixteen feet tall. Gazing blearily around, Grawp reached out a hand the size of a beach umbrella, seized a bird's nest from the upper branches of a towering pine and turned it upside-down with a roar of apparent displeasure that there was no bird in it; eggs fell like grenades towards the ground and Hagrid threw his arms over his head to protect himself.
"Anyway, Grawpy," shouted Hagrid, looking up apprehensively in case of further falling eggs, "I've brought some friends ter meet yeh. Remember, I told yeh I might? Remember, when I said I might have ter go on a little trip an' leave them ter look after yeh fer a bit? Remember that, Grawpy?"
But Grawp merely gave another low roar; it was hard to say whether he was listening to Hagrid or whether he even recognised the sounds Hagrid was making as speech. He had now seized the top of the pine tree and was pulling it towards him, evidently for the simple pleasure of seeing how far it would spring back when he let go.
"Now, Grawpy, don' do that!" shouted Hagrid. "Tha's how you ended up pullin' up the others—"
And sure enough, Layla could see the earth around the tree's roots beginning to crack.
"I got company for yeh!" Hagrid shouted. "Company, see! Look down, yeh big buffoon, I brought yeh some friends!"
"Oh, Hagrid, don't," moaned Hermione, but Hagrid had already raised the bough again and gave Grawp's knee a sharp poke.
The giant let go of the top of the tree, which swayed alarmingly and deluged Hagrid with a rain of pine needles, and looked down.
"This," said Hagrid, hastening over to where Harry, Layla, and Herrmone stood, "is Harry, Grawp! Harry Potter! He migh' be comin' ter visit yeh if I have ter go away, understand?"
The giant had only just realised that Harry, Layla, and Hermione were there. They watched, in great trepidation, as he lowered his huge boulder of a head so that he could peer blearily at them.
"An' then this is Layla, see? Layla, alrigh'? You see Layla? She'll be comin' to see yeh, too. An' this is Hermione. Her—" Hagrid said. Turning to Hermione, he said, "Would yeh mind if he called yeh Hermy, Hermione? On'y it's a difficult name fer him ter remember."
"No, not at all," squeaked Hermione.
"This is Hermy, Grawp! An' she's gonna be comin' an' all! Is'n' tha' nice? Eh? Three friends fer yeh ter — GRAWPY, NO!"
Grawp's hand had shot out of nowhere towards Hermione. All thoughts of their previous argument flew out of Layla's brain as she seized Hermione and pulled her backwards behind the tree, so that Grawp's fist scraped the trunk but closed on thin air.
"BAD BOY, GRAWPY!" they heard Hagrid yelling, as Hermione clung to Layla behind the tree, shaking and whimpering. "VERY BAD BOY! YEH DON' GRAB — OUCH!"
Layla poked his head out from around the trunk and saw Hagrid lying on his back, his hand over his nose. Grawp, apparently losing interest, had straightened up and was again engaged in pulling back the pine as far as it would go.
"Righ'," said Hagrid thickly, getting up with one hand pinching his bleeding nose and the other grasping his crossbow, "well... there yeh are... yeh've met him an' — an' now he'll know yeh when yeh come back. Yeah... well..."
He looked up at Grawp, who was now pulling back the pine with an expression of detached pleasure on his boulderish face; the roots were creaking as he ripped them away from the ground.
"Well, I reckon tha's enough fer one day," said Hagrid. "We'll — er — we'll go back now, shall we?"
Harry, Layla, and Hermione all nodded. Hagrid shouldered his crossbow again and, still pinching his nose, led the way back into the trees.
Nobody spoke for a while, not even when they heard the distant crash that meant Grawp had pulled over the pine tree at last. At last they rejoined the path and, after another ten minutes, the trees began to thin; they were able to see patches of clear blue sky again and, in the distance, the definite sounds of cheering and shouting.
"Was that another goal?" asked Hagrid, pausing in the shelter of the trees as the Quidditch stadium came into view. "Or d'yeh reckon the match is over?"
"I don't know," said Hermione miserably.
"I reckon it's over, yeh know!" said Hagrid, still squinting towards the stadium. "Look — there's people comin' out already — if yeh two hurry yeh'll be able ter blend in with the crowd an' no one'll know yeh weren't there!"
"Good idea," said Harry. "Well... see you later, then, Hagrid."
The three students joined a stream of jabbering Hufflepuffs heading back towards the castle. Layla went to walk away from the other two, but instead, she turned towards Hermione.
"Are you okay? You look..." Layla said, casting a glance towards the Forest, "terrified..."
"Yeah, I am," said Hermione, still looking rather miserable as she stood beside Harry.
"Well, um... feel better soon...?" said Layla, though it sounded more like a question. She turned to walk away again.
"Wait," Hermione suddenly called after her. Layla turned to face her again. "I'm really sorry, um, about what I said in Charms. I'm sorry for being so judgemental. Are we still friends?"
"Of course we are, it was just a little argument," said Layla with a shrug of her shoulders. "And it's okay. Sometimes I don't like who I am either."
And with that, Layla turned and walked away, leaving both Harry and Hermione to stare after her, pity across their features.
"Weasley is our King,
Weasley is our King,
He didn't let the Quaffle in,
Weasley is our King..."
Layla really wished they'd stop singing that stupid song. She looked around for any sign of Ginny to console her after Gryffindor had no doubt lost.
A great tide of students was moving up the sloping lawns from the pitch.
"Weasley can save anything,
He never leaves a single ring,
That's why Gryffindors all sing:
Weasley is our King."
Layla halted in her steps. There was something different about the lyrics.
The song was growing louder, but it was issuing not from a crowd of green-and-silver-clad Slytherins, but from a mass of red and gold moving slowly towards the castle, bearing a solitary figure upon its many shoulders.
"Weasley is our King,
Weasley is our King,
He didn't let the Quaffle in,
Weasley is our King..."
"No way," Layla whispered to herself, her face breaking out in a surprised grin. Ron was the figure atop the many shoulders, waving the silver Quidditch cup in the air and looking quite beside himself.
Gryffindor had really won!
There was a scrum at the door of the castle and Ron's head got rather badly bumped on the lintel, but nobody seemed to want to put him down. Still singing, the crowd squeezed itself into the Entrance Hall and out of sight.