Blackgrave Manor

Blackgrave Manor

Chapter 5.

Narcissa followed the tall stranger up a winding path. She was still not sure she should be following him anywhere, especially when he was taking her to visit giants. If there even were giants nearby-- Lucius had said they were very far away, before he . . . Narcissa fixed her eyes firmly on the back of the stranger's long black overcoat and thought about giants. Giants were dangerous, and uncouth, and she was fairly sure it was illegal even to talk to them. One was supposed to ignore them and hope that they would go away quietly without grinding any bones. Of course, one was also not supposed to encounter mythical creatures in the ruins of one's ancestral home. As if on cue, Iris the storm raven let out a frustrated cheep. Narcissa supposed that the mysterious stranger must have shifted his grip, though overall he was carrying the raven astonishingly gently considering that it was three feet across and covered in slippery grayish feathers. No, the raven was actually cheeping because he had stopped walking, and was staring at the mountainside in thought. Perhaps Iris had been asleep. As a little baby Draco had gone through a stage in which he could not sleep unless he was moving. Narcissa had walked him round and round, back and forth, up and down spiral stairways, and still he had screamed for hours before collapsing-- and Narcissa had looked at his baby fingers, so pale and innocent, and remembered red blood on another pair of pale hands.

Narcissa shuddered. If only she could forget! But at least something was happening to distract her: the stranger had muttered a phrase to the rock, and now a door was swinging open. The door was huge, at least twice as tall as the stranger, who was himself remarkably large. It opened inward, and beyond there appeared a gaping cavern. A few torches set in sconces cast rippling, yellowish pools of light, but most of the cavern was cast in gloom.

The stranger strode inside, his black coat swirling as he walked. "It's only a little way farther," he promised. Narcissa was not sure whether he was addressing her or the raven. She slipped into the cavern, and jumped as the great stone door swung shut behind her. She felt almost like a ghost, wearing a thin white dress in this endless black room. Indeed, her existence might be easier if she were a ghost; she could fade in and out of the world, slip through walls . . . The stranger flung open a door in the far wall, preventing Narcissa from completing her thought. Beyond the door she saw the evening sky. It was a deep, even blue that appeared to be lit from within.

Narcissa followed the stranger out of the cavern into what seemed a different world. This was some sort of hidden bowl or valley, tucked among the mountains. A gentle green slope led down to a stone table, set about with square rocks for chairs. Glad to be at least temporarily at an end to her wanderings, Narcissa ran down the slope toward the table. As she ran she realized that some trick of perspective had misled her: the slope was much longer than she had first thought, and the table and chairs were unbelievably large. They were made not of rocks or boulders, but of plain-hewn cliffs.

Narcissa stopped near the bottom of the slope, panting in confusion. The stranger soon arrived beside her. Tall though he was, his head barely reached the tabletop. "Here, ma'am," he said, "I'll jus' set Iris here down, an' then I'll lift you up ter one of these chairs. Is that all right?"

Narcissa supposed she had no right to object. The stranger was remarkably strong; he swung her onto the chair as easily as if she had been a feather, floating in the wind. Narcissa felt a soft breeze ruffle her hair as she surveyed the area from her new vantage point. A man was approaching, walking down the green hill with confident strides. He was very large, and clothed in some sort of rough garment; his red hair and massive beard were formed into massive plaits.

The man came nearer, and Narcissa knew that once again the perspective had misled her. This was no human; this was a giant. Beside him the mysterious stranger seemed to be a child, and Narcissa felt herself almost completely insignificant.

"What ho, Hagrid?" said the giant. "Hope your mission went well! The rest of the council will be along in a few minutes."

"Hagrid?"

exclaimed Narcissa.

"Wait," the giant demanded, "who is this human female you've brought? And what do I see you carrying?"

"She's a baby storm raven," said the stranger. "The first one born in at least a century. Isn' she a lovely little girl?"

"Hagrid, that's wonderful! We never thought the mission would turn out so spectacularly." The giant seemed unnaturally impressed.

Narcissa felt ignored as well as confused. Hagrid? How could the mysterious stranger be Hagrid? "I don't understand," she said. "Hagrid's the under-gamekeeper at Hogwarts. He can barely put two sentences together, and he always wears this horrid brown coat that's falling apart at the seams."

The mysterious stranger blushed. "Er, well, Dumbledore told me that I had to get a different overcoat for me diplomatic mission. Even sent young Siri-- I mean Snuffles-- round to all the tailor's shops with me."

Hagrid? Dumbledore? Diplomacy? It still seemed impossible. Narcissa did not have long to pursue the thought, however, for the giant's ruddy head bent close to her, and she sensed that he was about to begin an interrogation.