|
"I'm a teacher!" he roared at Harry. "A teacher, Potter! How dare yeh threaten ter break down my door!" "I'm sorry, sir" said Harry, emphasizing the last word as he stowed his wand inside his robes.
Hagrid looked stunned. "Since when have yeh called me 'sir'." "Since when have you called me 'Potter'." "Oh, very clever," growled Hagrid. "Very amusin'. That's me outsmarted, innit. All righ', come in then, yeh ungrateful little . . ." Mumbling darkly, he stood back to let them pass. Hermione scurried in after Harry, looking rather frightened.
"Well." said Hagrid grumpily, as Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down around his enormous wooden table, Fang laying his head immediately upon Harry's knee and drooling all over his robes. "What's this. Feelin' sorry for me. Reckon I'm lonely or summat." "No," said Harry at once. "We wanted to see you." "We've missed you!" said Hermione tremulously.
"Missed me, have yeh." snorted Hagrid. "Yeah. Righ'." He stomped around, brewing up tea in his enormous copper kettle, muttering all the while. Finally he slammed down three bucket-sized mugs of mahogany-brown tea in front of them and a plate of his rock cakes. Harry was hungry enough even for Hagrid's cooking, and took one at once.
"Hagrid," said Hermione timidly, when he joined them at the table and started peeling his potatoes with a brutality that suggested that each tuber had done him a great personal wrong, "we really wanted to carry on with Care of Magical Creatures, you know." Hagrid gave another great snort. Harry rather thought some bogeys landed on the potatoes, and was inwardly thankful that they were not staying for dinner.
"We did!" said Hermione. "But none of us could fit it into our schedules!" "Yeah. Righ'," said Hagrid again.
There was a funny squelching sound and they all looked around: Hermione let out a tiny shriek, and Ron leapt out of his seat and hurried around the table away from the large barrel standing in the corner that they had only just noticed. It was full of what looked like foot-long maggots, slimy, white, and writhing.
"What are they, Hagrid." asked Harry, trying to sound interested rather than revolted, but putting down his rock cake all the same.
 |  |
|
