The Goblet of Fire Page 38

  DUMBLEDORE’S GIANT MISTAKE

  Albus Dumbledore, eccentric Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has never been afraid to make controversial staff appointments, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. In September of this year, he hired Alastor ‘Mad-Eye’ Moody, the notoriously jinx-happy ex-Auror, to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts, a decision that caused many raised eyebrows at the Ministry of Magic, given Moody’s well-known habit of attacking anybody who makes a sudden movement in his presence. Mad-Eye Moody, however, looks responsible and kindly, when set beside the part-human Dumbledore employs to teach Care of Magical Creatures.

  Rubeus Hagrid, who admits to being expelled from Hogwarts in his third year, has enjoyed the position of gamekeeper at the school ever since, a job secured for him by Dumbledore. Last year, however, Hagrid used his mysterious influence over the Headmaster to secure the additional post of Care of Magical Creatures teacher, over the heads of many better-qualified candidates.

  An alarmingly large and ferocious-looking man, Hagrid has been using his new-found authority to terrify the students in his care with a succession of horrific creatures. While Dumbledore turns a blind eye, Hagrid has maimed several pupils during a series of lessons which many admit to be ‘very frightening’.

  ‘I was attacked by a Hippogriff, and my friend Vincent Crabbe got a bad bite off a Flobberworm,’ says Draco Malfoy, a fourth-year student. ‘We all hate Hagrid, but we’re just too scared to say anything.’

  Hagrid has no intention of ceasing his campaign of intimidation, however. In conversation with a Daily Prophet reporter last month, he admitted breeding creatures he has dubbed ‘Blast-Ended Skrewts’, highly dangerous crosses between manticores and fire crabs. The creation of new breeds of magical creature is, of course, an activity usually closely observed by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Hagrid, it seems, considers himself to be above such petty restrictions.

  ‘I was just having some fun,’ he says, before hastily changing the subject.

  As if this were not enough, the Daily Prophet has now unearthed evidence that Hagrid is not – as he has always pretended – a pure-blood wizard. He is not, in fact, even pure human. His mother, we can exclusively reveal, is none other than the giantess Fridwulfa, whose whereabouts are currently unknown.

  Bloodthirsty and brutal, the giants brought themselves to the point of extinction by warring among themselves during the last century. The handful that remained joined the ranks of He Who Must Not Be Named, and were responsible for some of the worst mass Muggle-killings of his reign of terror.

  While many of the giants who served He Who Must Not Be Named were killed by Aurors working against the Dark side, Fridwulfa was not among them. It is possible she escaped to one of the giant communities still existing in foreign mountain ranges. If his antics during Care of Magical Creatures lessons are any guide, however, Fridwulfa’s son appears to have inherited her brutal nature.

  In a bizarre twist, Hagrid is reputed to have developed a close friendship with the boy who brought about You-Know-Who’s fall from power – thereby driving Hagrid’s own mother, like the rest of You-Know-Who’s supporters, into hiding. Perhaps Harry Potter is unaware of the unpleasant truth about his large friend – but Albus Dumbledore surely has a duty to ensure that Harry Potter, along with his fellow students, is warned about the dangers of associating with part-giants.

  Harry finished reading and looked up at Ron, whose mouth was hanging open.

  ‘How did she find out?’ he whispered.

  But that wasn’t what was bothering Harry.

  ‘What d’you mean, “We all hate Hagrid”?’ Harry spat at Malfoy. ‘What’s this rubbish about him’ – he pointed at Crabbe – ‘getting a bad bite off a Flobberworm? They haven’t even got teeth!’

  Crabbe was sniggering, apparently very pleased with himself.

  ‘Well, I think this should put an end to the oaf’s teaching career,’ said Malfoy, his eyes glinting. ‘Half-giant … and there was me thinking he’d just swallowed a bottle of Skele-Gro when he was young … none of the mummies and daddies are going to like this at all … they’ll be worried he’ll eat their kids, ha, ha …’

  ‘You –’

  ‘Are you paying attention over there?’

  Professor Grubbly-Plank’s voice carried over to the boys; the girls were all clustered around the unicorn now, stroking it. Harry was so angry that the Daily Prophet article shook in his hands as he turned to stare unseeingly at the unicorn, whose many magical properties Professor Grubbly-Plank was now enumerating in a loud voice, so that the boys could hear too.

  ‘I hope she stays, that woman!’ said Parvati Patil, when the lesson had ended, and they were all heading back to the castle for lunch. ‘That’s more what I thought Care of Magical Creatures would be like … proper creatures like unicorns, not monsters …’

  ‘What about Hagrid?’ Harry said angrily, as they went up the steps.

  ‘What about him?’ said Parvati, in a hard voice. ‘He can still be gamekeeper, can’t he?’

  Parvati had been very cool towards Harry since the ball. He supposed that he ought to have paid her a bit more attention, but she seemed to have had a good time all the same. She was certainly telling anybody who would listen that she had made arrangements to meet the boy from Beauxbatons in Hogsmeade on the next weekend trip.

  ‘That was a really good lesson,’ said Hermione, as they entered the Great Hall. ‘I didn’t know half the things Professor Grubbly-Plank told us about uni–’

  ‘Look at this!’ Harry snarled, and he shoved the Daily Prophet article under Hermione’s nose.

  Hermione’s mouth fell open as she read. Her reaction was exactly the same as Ron’s. ‘How did that horrible Skeeter woman find out? You don’t think Hagrid told her?’

  ‘No,’ said Harry, leading the way over to the Gryffindor table and throwing himself into a chair, furious. ‘He never even told us, did he? I reckon she was so mad he wouldn’t give her loads of horrible stuff about me, she went ferreting around to get back at him.’

  ‘Maybe she heard him telling Madame Maxime at the ball,’ said Hermione quietly.

  ‘We’d have seen her in the garden!’ said Ron. ‘Anyway, she’s not supposed to come into school any more, Hagrid said Dumbledore banned her …’

  ‘Maybe she’s got an Invisibility Cloak,’ said Harry, ladling chicken casserole onto his plate and splashing it everywhere in his anger. ‘Sort of thing she’d do, isn’t it, hide in bushes listening to people.’

  ‘Like you and Ron did, you mean,’ said Hermione.

  ‘We weren’t trying to hear him!’ said Ron indignantly. ‘We didn’t have any choice! The stupid git, talking about his giantess mother where anyone could have heard him!’

  ‘We’ve got to go and see him,’ said Harry. ‘This evening, after Divination. Tell him we want him back … You do want him back?’ he shot at Hermione.

  ‘I – well, I’m not going to pretend it didn’t make a nice change, having a proper Care of Magical Creatures lesson for once – but I do want Hagrid back, of course I do!’ Hermione added hastily, quailing under Harry’s furious stare.

  So that evening after dinner, the three of them left the castle once more, and went down through the frozen grounds to Hagrid’s cabin. They knocked, and Fang’s booming barks answered.

  ‘Hagrid, it’s us!’ Harry shouted, pounding on the door. ‘Open up!’

  He didn’t answer. They could hear Fang scratching at the door, whining, but it didn’t open. They hammered on it for ten more minutes; Ron even went and banged on one of the windows, but there was no response.

  ‘What’s he avoiding us for?’ Hermione said, when they had finally given up, and were walking back to the school. ‘He surely doesn’t think we’d care about him being half-giant?’

  But it seemed that Hagrid did care. They didn’t see a sign of him all week. He didn’t appear at the staff table at meal-times, they didn�
��t see him going about his gamekeeper duties in the grounds, and Professor Grubbly-Plank continued to take the Care of Magical Creatures classes. Malfoy was gloating at every possible opportunity.

  ‘Missing your half-breed pal?’ he kept whispering to Harry, whenever there was a teacher around, so that he was safe from Harry’s retaliation. ‘Missing the elephant man?’

  There was a Hogsmeade visit halfway through January. Hermione was very surprised that Harry was planning to go.

  ‘I just thought you’d want to take advantage of the common room being quiet,’ she said. ‘Really get to work on that egg.’

  ‘Oh, I – I reckon I’ve got a pretty good idea what it’s about now,’ Harry lied.

  ‘Have you really?’ said Hermione, looking impressed. ‘Well done!’

  Harry’s insides gave a guilty squirm, but he ignored them. He still had five weeks to work out that egg clue, after all, and that was ages … and if he went into Hogsmeade, he might run into Hagrid, and get a chance to persuade him to come back.

  He, Ron and Hermione left the castle together on Saturday, and set off through the cold, wet grounds towards the gates. As they passed the Durmstrang ship moored in the lake, they saw Viktor Krum emerge onto the deck, dressed in nothing but swimming trunks. He was very skinny, but apparently a lot tougher than he looked, because he climbed up onto the side of the ship, stretched out his arms and dived, right into the lake.

  ‘He’s mad!’ said Harry, staring at Krum’s dark head, as it bobbed out into the middle of the lake. ‘It must be freezing, it’s January!’

  ‘It’s a lot colder where he comes from,’ said Hermione. ‘I suppose it feels quite warm to him.’

  ‘Yeah, but there’s still the giant squid,’ said Ron. He didn’t sound anxious – if anything, he sounded hopeful. Hermione noticed his tone of voice, and frowned.

  ‘He’s really nice, you know,’ she said. ‘He’s not at all like you’d think, coming from Durmstrang. He likes it much better here, he told me.’

  Ron said nothing. He hadn’t mentioned Viktor Krum since the ball, but Harry had found a miniature arm under his bed on Boxing Day, which had looked very much as though it had been snapped off a small model figure wearing Bulgaria Quidditch robes.

  Harry kept his eyes skinned for a sign of Hagrid all the way down the slushy High Street, and suggested a visit to the Three Broomsticks once he had ascertained that Hagrid was not in any of the shops.

  The pub was as crowded as ever, but one quick look around at all the tables told Harry that Hagrid wasn’t there. Heart sinking, he went up to the bar with Ron and Hermione, ordered three Butterbeers from Madam Rosmerta, and thought gloomily that he might just as well have stayed behind and listened to the egg wailing after all.

  ‘Doesn’t he ever go into the office?’ Hermione whispered suddenly. ‘Look!’

  She pointed into the mirror behind the bar, and Harry saw Ludo Bagman reflected there, sitting in a shadowy corner with a bunch of goblins. Bagman was talking very fast in a low voice to the goblins, all of whom had their arms crossed, and were looking rather menacing.

  It was indeed odd, Harry thought, that Bagman was here at the Three Broomsticks on a weekend when there was no Triwizard event, and therefore no judging to be done. He watched Bagman in the mirror. He was looking strained again, quite as strained as he had done that night in the forest before the Dark Mark had appeared. But just then Bagman glanced over at the bar, saw Harry, and stood up.

  ‘In a moment, in a moment!’ Harry heard him say brusquely to the goblins, and Bagman hurried through the pub towards Harry, his boyish grin back in place.

  ‘Harry!’ he said. ‘How are you? Been hoping to run into you! Everything going all right?’

  ‘Fine, thanks,’ said Harry.

  ‘Wonder if I could have a quick, private word, Harry?’ said Bagman eagerly. ‘You couldn’t give us a moment, you two, could you?’

  ‘Er – OK,’ said Ron, and he and Hermione went off to find a table.

  Bagman led Harry along the bar to the end furthest from Madam Rosmerta.

  ‘Well, I just thought I’d congratulate you again on your splendid performance against that Horntail, Harry,’ said Bagman. ‘Really superb.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Harry, but he knew this couldn’t be all that Bagman wanted to say, because he could have congratulated Harry in front of Ron and Hermione. Bagman didn’t seem in any particular rush to spill the beans, though. Harry saw him glance into the mirror over the bar at the goblins, who were all watching him and Harry in silence through their dark, slanting eyes.

  ‘Absolute nightmare,’ said Bagman to Harry in an undertone, noticing Harry watching the goblins, too. ‘Their English isn’t too good … it’s like being back with all the Bulgarians at the Quidditch World Cup … but at least they used sign language another human could recognise. This lot keep gabbling in Gobbledegook … and I only know one word of Gobbledegook. Bladvak. It means ‘pickaxe’. I don’t like to use it in case they think I’m threatening them.’ He gave a short, booming laugh.

  ‘What do they want?’ Harry said, noticing how the goblins were still watching Bagman very closely.

  ‘Er – well …’ said Bagman, looking suddenly nervous. ‘They … er … they’re looking for Barty Crouch.’

  ‘Why are they looking for him here?’ said Harry. ‘He’s at the Ministry in London, isn’t he?’

  ‘Er … as a matter of fact, I’ve no idea where he is,’ said Bagman. ‘He’s sort of … stopped coming to work. Been absent for a couple of weeks now. Young Percy, his assistant, says he’s ill. Apparently he’s just been sending instructions in by owl. But would you mind not mentioning that to anyone, Harry? Because Rita Skeeter’s still poking around everywhere she can, and I’m willing to bet she’d work Barty’s illness up into something sinister. Probably say he’s gone missing like Bertha Jorkins.’

  ‘Have you heard anything about Bertha Jorkins?’ Harry asked.

  ‘No,’ said Bagman, looking strained again. ‘I’ve got people looking, of course …’ (About time, thought Harry) ‘and it’s all very strange. She definitely arrived in Albania, because she met her second cousin there. And then she left the cousin’s house to go south and see an aunt … and she seems to have vanished without trace, en route. Blowed if I can see where she’s got to … she doesn’t seem the type to elope, for instance … but still … what are we doing, talking about goblins and Bertha Jorkins? I really wanted to ask you,’ he lowered his voice, ‘how are you getting on with your golden egg?’

  ‘Er … not bad,’ Harry said untruthfully.

  Bagman seemed to know he wasn’t being honest.

  ‘Listen, Harry,’ he said (still in a very low voice), ‘I feel very bad about all this … you were thrown into this Tournament, you didn’t volunteer for it … and if’ (his voice was so quiet now, Harry had to lean closer to listen) ‘… if I can help at all … a prod in the right direction … I’ve taken a liking to you … the way you got past that dragon! … Well, just say the word.’

  Harry looked up into Bagman’s round, rosy face, and wide, baby-blue eyes.

  ‘We’re supposed to work out the clues alone, aren’t we?’ he said, careful to keep his voice casual, and not sound as though he was accusing the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports of breaking the rules.

  ‘Well … well, yes,’ said Bagman impatiently, ‘but – come on, Harry – we all want a Hogwarts victory, don’t we?’

  ‘Have you offered Cedric help?’ Harry said.

  The smallest of frowns creased Bagman’s smooth face.

  ‘No, I haven’t,’ he said. ‘I – well, like I say, I’ve taken a liking to you. Just thought I’d offer …’

  ‘Well, thanks,’ said Harry, ‘but I think I’m nearly there with the egg … couple more days should crack it.’

  He wasn’t entirely sure why he was refusing Bagman’s help, except that Bagman was almost a stranger to him, and accepting his assistance would feel somehow
much more like cheating than asking advice from Ron, Hermione or Sirius.

  Bagman looked almost affronted, but couldn’t say much more as Fred and George turned up at that point.

  ‘Hello, Mr Bagman,’ said Fred brightly. ‘Can we buy you a drink?’

  ‘Er … no,’ said Bagman, with a last disappointed glance at Harry, ‘no thank you, boys …’

  Fred and George looked quite as disappointed as Bagman, who was surveying Harry as though he had let him down badly.

  ‘Well, I must dash,’ he said. ‘Nice seeing you all. Good luck, Harry.’

  He hurried out of the pub. The goblins all slid off their chairs and exited after him. Harry went to rejoin Ron and Hermione.

  ‘What did he want?’ Ron said, the moment Harry had sat down.

  ‘He offered to help me with the golden egg,’ said Harry.

  ‘He shouldn’t be doing that!’ said Hermione, looking very shocked. ‘He’s one of the judges! And anyway, you’ve already worked it out – haven’t you?’

  ‘Er … nearly,’ said Harry.

  ‘Well, I don’t think Dumbledore would like it if he knew Bagman was trying to persuade you to cheat!’ said Hermione, still looking deeply disapproving. ‘I hope he’s trying to help Cedric as much!’

  ‘He’s not. I asked,’ said Harry.

  ‘Who cares if Diggory’s getting help?’ said Ron. Harry privately agreed.

  ‘Those goblins didn’t look very friendly,’ said Hermione, sipping her Butterbeer. ‘What were they doing here?’

  ‘Looking for Crouch, according to Bagman,’ said Harry. ‘He’s still ill. Hasn’t been into work.’

  ‘Maybe Percy’s poisoning him,’ said Ron. ‘Probably thinks if Crouch snuffs it he’ll be made Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation.’

  Hermione gave Ron a don’t-joke-about-things-like-that look, and said, ‘Funny, goblins looking for Mr Crouch … they’d normally deal with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.’

  ‘Crouch can speak loads of different languages, though,’ said Harry. ‘Maybe they need an interpreter.’