Harmless and Easily Domesticated

The Bowtruckle

Although there were no more catastrophes on the scale of the Chizpurfle infestation, Hagrid's next few Care of Magical Creatures classes definitely had their share of action.

The gnome escaped, leaving Hagrid in a state of near hysteria over the havoc that would be wreaked upon Hogwarts' beautifully maintained lawns and gardens. When Crookshanks trotted into the Entrance Hall that evening carrying it by the scruff of its neck, Hagrid was so relieved that he swept up the great ginger cat and kissed him.

After that was a series of lessons on Jobberknolls: small, black-speckled blue birds that remained silent their entire lives, only to repeat, backwards, every sound they'd ever heard the instant before they died. Hagrid, who plainly found Jobberknolls quite boring, hung a cage on a hook outside his cabin and instructed the students to keep an eye out for signs of the Jobberknoll's impending death.

'Can't you just kill it?' Malfoy had asked peevishly.

'Jobberknolls're a protected species,' growled Hagrid. 'Yeh'll jus' have ter be patient, Malfoy.'

This turned out to be a vast understatement, as Hermione discovered whilst consulting Magical Avifauna of Britain and Ireland to find out the expected lifespan of a Jobberknoll.

'The degree to which speckling of the feathers has progressed is indicative of both the age of the Jobberknoll and the efficacy of those feathers as a potions ingredient ... Jobberknolls can live upwards of seventy years ...' She looked up from the book in dismay. 'Hagrid's Jobberknoll is practically pure blue! Our great-grandchildren may be at Hogwarts to hear it sing, but we certainly won't!'

Next they learnt about Puffskeins, custard-coloured balls of fur with fantastically long tongues, which they used to search for food. Hagrid attempted to demonstrate this by setting a plate of dead spiders on his front doorstep and taking the Puffskein into the back garden. Seconds later, what looked like a slimy pink ribbon came snaking round the hut. It stopped well short of the spiders, however, making a sudden sharp turning in Draco Malfoy's direction.

Malfoy had loudly announced at the beginning of the lesson that no one over the mental age of five retained any interest in Puffskeins, and was now deep in conversation with Pansy Parkinson. The rest of the class watched, fascinated, as the Puffskein's tongue circled behind Malfoy's back, reached stealthily over his shoulder and flicked deftly in and out of his nose, causing Pansy to screech and Malfoy himself to jump nearly a foot in the air.

Hagrid cheered up noticeably when it came time to study Grindylows, although he couldn't teach them much that Professor Lupin hadn't already covered two years ago in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Harry did rather wonder what Fleur Delacour would think of the Ministry's decision to classify Grindylows as harmless.

After the Christmas holidays, a Porlock flew in from Beauxbatons on one of Madam Maxime's elephant-sized winged horses, which according to Newt Scamander were called Abraxans. The winged horse was quite impressive but Harry never got a very good look at the Porlock, as it kept dodging behind the horse's legs to stay out of view.

When Hagrid told them the next lesson would be Bowtruckles, nobody really believed him; he'd been saying this at the end of each class since the start of the year. Amazingly enough, however, when they turned up the following Monday, Hagrid told them to leave their bags beside his cabin and go with him into the Forbidden Forest. He had apparently, at last, managed to track down a Bowtruckle.

Hermione insisted on bringing along a bag of Honeydukes sweets, which she refused to share with Harry and Ron, to Ron's great annoyance.

'These are for the Bowtruckle, you wouldn't like them,' she snapped, slapping his hand away.

Shouldering a wickedly sharp axe nearly as long as Harry's Firebolt, Hagrid led them down a winding path for a quarter of an hour, then plunged off suddenly into the undergrowth. After fifty feet of bramble and bracken, they arrived at the foot of an ancient, gnarled sycamore.

'You lot stand clear,' Hagrid ordered.

He ran a thumb along the blade of the axe to test its keenness, drew it back and swung. With a shriek of fury, what appeared to be a bundle of twigs detached itself from the tree and launched itself at Hagrid's head, thorny talons outstretched. Hagrid caught the Bowtruckle in his free hand as though it was a long, wooden Snitch. Just before the axe hit the tree, it hissed a very rude word in Parseltongue and turned into a giant rubber snake.

This served only to further enrage the Bowtruckle. It chittered angrily and tried to swipe at Hagrid with its sharp fingers, but couldn't reach over his enormous fist.

'Bowtruckles're normally quite peaceable,' said Hagrid, 'but they get very upset if their tree's threatened.'

As if to confirm Hagrid's words, the Bowtruckle sank its teeth viciously into his thumb, which seemed mainly to hurt Hagrid's feelings.

'Ron, what have you done with my Honeydukes bag?' said Hermione.

'I haven't touched your Honeydukes bag!' said Ron.

'But I put it down right here ... where could it have got to?'

Hermione had just begun rooting amongst the ferns when a thunderous bellow rent the silence of the Forest. They whipped round to see Goyle dancing about, waving a hand that was covered with small, moving brown specks. Hermione's Honeydukes bag lay open at his feet.

The Bowtruckle took advantage of Hagrid's distraction to wriggle free of his grasp. With an almighty bound it leapt onto Goyle, who let out another howl and went bolting off into the depths of the Forest.

'I'll go an' fetch him,' said Hagrid. 'The rest o' yeh, get back ter the school ...'

He vanished into the trees after Goyle.

'Those Cockroach Clusters must've been really fresh,' said Ron, as they made their way along the path out of the Forest.

'They weren't Cockroach Clusters,' said Hermione. 'Honestly, I suppose you haven't read Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them yet, either ...'

At Hagrid's hut, the class stood by anxiously awaiting his return. The Slytherins were clustered around Malfoy, who was whispering furiously and casting angry glances towards the Forbidden Forest.

'If anything happens to Goyle, Hagrid could be in a lot of trouble,' said Hermione worriedly.

'Why?' said Harry. 'He's supposed to be teaching harmless creatures -- Bowtruckles are classified XX.'

'Unless it was a misprint,' said Hermione, biting her lip.

Half an hour later, Hagrid strode out of the trees in his shirtsleeves, despite it being the middle of an unusually cold January. Goyle was nowhere to be seen.

'Er ...' said Ron. 'How come Hagrid's carrying a handbag?'

As Hagrid drew closer, it became clear that the 'handbag' was in fact his moleskin overcoat, tied to the axe by its sleeves and tails to form a sort of litter, in which rode Gregory Goyle. Goyle's eyes were open but he appeared to be in deep shock, staring off into the distance at nothing in particular. One of the sleeves of his robes had been ripped off and there was a nasty bruise on his cheek.

'What happened to him?' said Hermione in a hushed voice.

'Ran inter a tree,' said Hagrid shortly ('A likely story!' spat Draco Malfoy).

Hagrid untied his overcoat and propped Goyle against the wall of the cabin. He went inside and came out again with a large pewter tankard.

'Here, drink this,' he said to Goyle. 'Yeh'll be OK ...'

The stuff in the tankard made Goyle cough and splutter, but seemed to bring him back from wherever it was that he'd been. As soon as Goyle was on his feet, Malfoy bustled him off to the castle 'where a proper mediwitch can have a look at him'.

Harry, Ron and Hermione hung back until all the other students had gone.

'Hagrid,' said Hermione seriously, 'Goyle didn't really run into a tree, did he?'

'Ah -- no,' said Hagrid. 'He ran inter a spot o' bother with a troll. Don' worry, I got there in time --'

'Goyle was attacked by a troll?' squeaked Hermione. 'Hagrid, we've got to go to Dumbledore at once and explain what happened. When Malfoy finds out he'll be owling his father, trolls are XXXX --'

'Oh, I don' reckon Goyle'll be tellin' him,' said Hagrid.

Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged disbelieving looks. They couldn't imagine Goyle keeping a secret from Malfoy, especially one that might get Hagrid sacked.

'Yeh see,' said Hagrid, lowering his voice, 'it was a lady troll ... an' she didn' exactly want ter fight ...'