The Very Secret Diary of Ginny Weasley

Chapter Three: Hagrid

 

            That next Friday afternoon after Herbology, Ginny decided to take a stroll around the lake. After with all the goings-on of the first week of school, she had barely a moment to herself.
           She had also barely seen Harry since Ron had gotten his howler the morning after the sorting ceremony. He had tried in vain to stay out of the limelight, but word was all over school about the flying car. Another first year Gryffindor and amateur photographer, Colin Creevey was hounding him constantly, wanting to take pictures of him.
           Thinking of Harry while she sat alone near the lake made her feel a bit starry- eyed and romantic. She pulled out her diary and quickly jotted down a short poem.

I look into your eyes and blush like a rose,
You never notice, yet my heart has not froze.
My love burns bright, like an untamed wildfire,
For I see who you are, my true hearts desire.

You sometimes look lost, in your eyes I can see,
Not sure that you fit in, so very much like me,
So until the day comes when you can love me entire,
I will wait for you Harry, my true hearts desire.

           Ginny sat there sighing with dreamy memories of Harry when the thought occurred to her, “I wonder if he's roaming about the grounds too?”
           She closed the diary and got up from the grass. She had decided to walk about the grounds, near the dark forest. “Who knows, perhaps I’ll bump into him . . . ,” she thought to herself with a grin she could hardly contain.
           Ginny knew that one of Harry's greatest friends other than Ron and Hermione, was the Hogwarts gamekeeper, Hagrid, who just happened to lived in a small hut just outside the dark forest.
           As she neared the hut, she could hear a booming voice coming from the back of the house.
           “My, how yeh boys have grown!”
           She snuck around the tiny hut and peered around the corner of the house.
           Hagrid was watering several enormous pumpkins in his garden behind the house. He was talking to them, like a father to his children.
           “Yer all growin' so big, how hearty yeh'll be . . . “
           Ginny crept closer behind one of the bigger pumpkins, which was nearly as big as herself, to get a closer look. But he ground was muddy and wet from the water and suddenly,
           “SPLAT!”
           Ginny was face down in the mud.
           She was mortified, too embarrassed to move. She hoped he hadn't heard her. Maybe if she just stayed still long enough, she wouldn't notice her.
           Suddenly she felt a cold nose combined with hot, slobbering breath beginning to tickle her ear.
           “Well, well. What have we got here Fang?”

            She felt two large hands pull her up out of the mud by the shoulders and turn her around. “Can I help yeh miss, er–“
           ”Weasley, Ginny Weasley,” she said with a frown, wiping the mud from her eyes.
           “Ah, yer Ron's little sister! I'm Hagrid, but I reckon yeh know that already. Pleasure meetin' yeh all the same!” the giant man said with a smile Ginny could see in his small black eyes.
           Ginny was covered from head to toe in mud. She tried in vain to brush herself off, but she was soaked with it.
           “Would yeh like ter come 'nside and dry yerself off? I'll make yeh a pot o' tea.”
           “Really sir, er, Hagrid, that's not necessary.”
           “Come now, I insist. Yer soaked to the bone already,” he said firmly.
           Ginny suddenly imagined Harry walking down the path to Hagrid's house and seeing her a mess of mud and water. So to avoid the potentially ugly situation, she figured it would be in her best interest to go inside and clean up. She followed Hagrid quickly through the back door into his hut.
           Hagrid bade her to sit down, and she sat in a oversized chair, nearly big enough to sleep in, with a towel around her shoulders. He had already hung her robe by the fire to dry and was heating the water for tea.
           Looking around, she loved Hagrid's house right away. It reminded her so much of the Burrow; so warm and cozy.
           “So tell me. How are yeh liking Hogwarts so far?” Hagrid said handing her a hot cup of tea. “Do yeh like your teachers?”
           “Yes, I suppose. It's very different from the Burrow, my home. Much more than I expected,” she said thoughtfully, sipping her tea. “I really like Professor Lockhart, and Professor Flitwick, but Professor Snape is not so nice. I think he's bitter.”
           Hagrid chuckled. “I reckoned yeh’d say that. Yer brother says the same about him as well,” he said with a gleam in his eye. “Yeh, Snape is quite a stickler for the rules, that one-- er, I shouldn't have said that, he's a teacher after all.”
           As he said this, Hagrid's dog, Fang walked over and laid his large head in Ginny’s lap, drooling on her knees. She smiled at him and scratched behind his ears.
           Ginny smiled politely, as she decided to change the subject to avoid any awkwardness. “Those are the biggest pumpkins I've ever seen Hagrid. How did you get them to grow so large?” she said nodding towards the garden outside the back door.
           Hagrid grinned broadly under his scruffy brown beard. “Well, I had a bit o' help with that if you catch me drift,” he said, winking at her.
           She understood. He must have used a spell on them. "An engorgement charm, right?"
Hagrid nodded.
           “Well, you've done a fantastic job with them, I must say.”
           “Aw, thanks Ginny,” he said, scratching his beard thoughtfully. “Yeh know, yeh never did tell me what yeh were doin' round the pumpkin patch anyway?”
           Ginny tried to sound as casual about it as she could. “I was just exploring the grounds around the castle that's all. I heard Harry talking about your house before, and I thought I would check it out for myself. I didn't mean to intrude, really.”
           She thought back to the story Harry told at the Burrow about how Hagrid had come to bring him his Hogwarts acceptance letter. Her face warmed instantly at the thought.
           Hagrid noticed the twinkle in her eyes as she spoke of Harry. “I see yeh must think a lot of our boy Harry here then?” he said with a smug look on his face.

            Without thinking Ginny blurted out, “Oh yes! I mean he's smart, brave and so loyal to his friends. He helped to win the house cup last year, not to mention he’s an amazing Quidditch player . . .”
           Hagrid sat back in his chair, as she continued to list all of Harry's good points in a seemingly endless list. It didn't take long however, before Ginny realized she’d been rambling on. Immediately, she felt her face get hot.
           She tried to cover as best she could. “Well, doesn't everyone think so, I mean, after all, he did defeat You-know-who.”
           “Yeh,” Hagrid chuckled again. “He’s quite a fine boy, tha' he is.”
           Completely embarrassed at this point, she tried once again to change the subject. “Er, well, my clothes must be dry by now,” she managed to sputter out, as she got up and checked her robe by the fireplace. They were still quite damp, but she didn't care. All she could think about was how she just made a fool of herself in front of one of Harry's friends, yet again.
           She put on her robes and said politely, “Thank you Hagrid for your help, but I really must be going now. I reckon supper will start soon.”
           “Yer welcome, Ginny,” he said, smiling beneath his shaggy beard as he escorted her to the door. “I really enjoyed yer company, but I mus' be gettin' off meself. Still have the chickens to feed.”
           “You have chickens too?” Ginny said, thinking of her dad tripping a few days ago, which suddenly made her feel incredibly homesick.
           “Oh yeh! Have a coop just over yonder,” Hagrid said, nodding towards a large pen, just past the garden.
           “Well it was a pleasure meeting you, Hagrid. And thanks again!” she said, opening the front door.
           “How 'bout yeh come by for tea in a few weeks? We can talk more about the upcomming Quidditch season,” he said with a wink.
           “Sure,” she said, turning pink again. “Bye now,” and she started back towards the castle, still covered in partially dried mud.
           Ginny had nearly made it to the common room without anyone seeing her too, but Colin Creevey rounded the corner, camera in hand, startling her. He was about to take a picture.
           She stopped dead in her tracks and put her hand out for him to stop.
           “Don't even think about it,” she growled at him.
           Colin put down his camera, speechless, allowing her to pass by without another word.

           *          *           *

           “Dear Tom, I've had the strangest day. First, all the drama with Ron and Hermione, and now, I think I’m losing my memory. There are rooster feathers all over my robes, and I don't know how they got there. I wonder if I haven't begun sleepwalking again. I haven't done it since Percy left home for Hogwarts. I was so upset about him leaving that I sleepwalked for weeks. But I can't imagine why I would start up again,” Ginny scrawled quickly, anxious to tell Tom about her day.
            “Perhaps it is because of all the dramatic changes that have occurred in your life recently. You know, coming to Hogwarts, meeting new people. I know it has not been easy for you.”
           “You are probably right, Tom. It certainly hasn't been easy for me to adjust. I've wanted to come to Hogwarts practically my whole life, and now that I’m here, it's just not what I expected it to be. I miss the Burrow more than ever.

             A thought crossed Ginny’s mind. “I wonder if I was in Hagrid's chicken coup while I was sleepwalking? I used to play with the chickens at the burrow quite a bit.”
            “That must have been what happened. It would make sense anyway. So tell me what else happened to you today? There is more than simply sleepwalking on you mind.”
           “Oh yes! I nearly forgot poor Ron. First the howler from Mum, and now this. I was coming upstairs to my dorm room to study, because the common room was far to busy. When I got upstairs, I found Hermione crying in her room. She looked like she needed someone to talk to, and she has always been really kind to me. When I asked her what had happened, she told me that Draco Malfoy, that mean boy I had told you about, had called her a Mudblood before Harry's Quidditch practice.”

            “What a horrible thing to say!”

            “Well, of course she didn't know what it meant at first. Then Ron came to her defense and tried to curse Malfoy with his broken wand or something to that effect, but it backfired and he ended up spewing slugs everywhere! Hermione and Harry took him to Hagrid's hut (that figures!), but there was really nothing that they could do for him, the poor thing!”

            “It was at Hagrid's when Hermione finally found out what a Mudblood meant. She played it off in front of the boys, and pretended that it really didn't bother her. But after supper, when the boys went off to serve their detention for the car incident, she went up to her room and cried. I felt so awful for her when she told me. She said that she hadn't been that upset since Ron had called her a 'nightmare'!”
           “When did he say that? I thought you said they were best friends.”
           Ginny giggled to herself, as she wrote out the explanation. “This was last year, before they became friends. She had shown him up in Charms class, and he was jealous of her. Typical Ron. The dumb clod would rather say something rude than admit when he's wrong.”
           “Well that was certainly an awful thing to say to Hermione. I know that even in my day, the term Mudblood was an appalling one. But why did she not tell Ron and Harry how she really felt?”
            “Believe me Tom, I know this from experience. Boys aren't always the most compassionate when you are pouring your heart out, other than you of course. I suppose she wants to appear strong in front of them. I know that Harry wouldn't tease her much about it, but knowing my brother, Ron would just get uncomfortable and say something stupid.”
           “That is true for most young men of that age. Some just cannot express their emotions like girls can.”
           Ginny wasn’t so sure, Harry was never like that. “I guess so. I just feel so bad for Hermione. I'm glad I was able to be there for her. She doesn't have any girlfriends to talk to. Hey, I guess we're both in the same boat aren't we?”

            “It seems to me Ginny, that you have made yourself a friend, without even realizing it.”

            “Thanks Tom, I hope you’re right. Well, I’m off to bed. Goodnight!”