"Honestly, Hagrid, if you're waiting for universal approval, you'll be holed up in this hut for a very long time indeed," Dumbledore said, his gaze suddenly sharp and penetrating from behind his half-moon spectacles. "Ever since I became Headmaster of this school, I've received at least one owl every week criticizing how I run things. What do you suppose I should do? Lock myself away in my office and refuse to speak to anyone?"
"But—you're not half-giant!" Hagrid croaked miserably.
"Hagrid, if you're going to think like that, then consider the prophecy!" Orli said fiercely, her voice rising with indignation. "I'm supposed to be the child who should never have been born!"
"Oh—Orli," Hagrid hiccupped loudly, "but prophecies don't always come true... I don't believe in any of that rubbish..."
"Well, half-giants don't always hurt people either!" Orli shot to her feet, her voice ringing through the hut. "You need to pull yourself together!"
"But I nearly got you killed back then..." Hagrid's voice cracked, fresh tears threatening to spill.
"That was Malfoy's fault!" Orli snapped, her eyes blazing with righteous anger.
"Please come back to teaching, Hagrid," Hermione said gently, her voice soft but urgent. "Please. We really do miss you terribly."
Hagrid fought to contain his sobs, but more tears cascaded down his weathered cheeks, disappearing into the tangled wilderness of his beard.
Dumbledore rose gracefully to his feet.
"I'm not accepting your resignation, Hagrid. I expect you back in the classroom on Monday," he said with quiet authority. "You'll join me for breakfast in the Great Hall at half past eight. No excuses whatsoever. Good afternoon to you all."
Dumbledore moved toward the door, pausing only to bend down and give Fang's ears an affectionate scratch before stepping out into the afternoon air. The moment the door clicked shut behind him, Hagrid buried his face in his massive hands—hands the size of dustbin lids—and wept with raw, heartbroken sobs. Hermione kept patting his enormous arm consolingly until finally, Hagrid lifted his head, his eyes swollen and bloodshot.
"Dumbledore's a truly great man... the greatest..." Hagrid whispered hoarsely.
"He really is," Ron agreed warmly. "Er, can I have a piece of cake, Hagrid?"
"Help yourself," Hagrid said, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "You're all right, of course... Dumbledore's right... I've been such a bloody fool... My dad would be ashamed of me, carrying on like this... I've never shown you a picture of my old dad, have I? Here, let me find it..."
Hagrid heaved himself up and lumbered over to his wardrobe, pulling open a creaky drawer. He extracted a worn photograph showing a diminutive wizard with eyes as dark as Hagrid's own, squinting happily as he perched on Hagrid's shoulder like a cheerful bird. Using the apple tree beside them for scale, Hagrid must have already stood seven or eight feet tall, but his face was young, round, and smooth—completely beardless. He couldn't have been more than eleven years old.
"This was taken just after I started at Hogwarts," Hagrid said, his voice thick with emotion. "Dad was absolutely thrilled... He never thought I'd make it as a wizard, you know, because of my mum... well, never mind about that. I was never much cop at magic anyway... but at least he didn't live to see me get expelled. He died during my second year..."
Hagrid's voice caught, and he cleared his throat roughly before continuing.
"After Dad passed, it was Dumbledore who looked after me. Gave me the gamekeeper position... He believes in people, Dumbledore does. Always willing to give someone a second chance... That's what sets him apart from other headmasters, you see. If someone's got talent, Dumbledore will welcome them to Hogwarts, no matter where they come from. He knows a person can make something of themselves, even if their background isn't... well, isn't what people expect. That's something to admire, that is. But some folk will always judge you for how you were born... Some even pretend it's just because they've got 'big bones,' instead of saying what they really mean—well, I am who I am, and I've got nothing to be ashamed of. I won't let that woman get under my skin ever again, I promise you that. Big bones... I'll show her what big bones really look like!"
Harry, Ron, Orli, and Hermione exchanged uncomfortable glances. None of them wanted to admit they knew about Madame Maxime and Hagrid's complicated relationship. But Hagrid kept talking, clearly oblivious to the fact that he'd just revealed something rather personal and confusing.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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