Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

Chapter 987: Dragon Meat

“Hagrid, where’s that giant? Your brother, the guy named Grawp?” Harry demanded, while Fang danced around them all, trying to lick their faces.

“Oh, Evan told yeh, did he?!” Hagrid tried his best to say in a pleasant tone, the sound of burning wood emanating from the fireplace. “I just settled him in the woods, ‘bout halfway from here, told him not to roam too much. I plan to help him build a home tomorrow. If you’re willin’ to lend a hand, yeh can come over,”

After hearing Hagrid’s words, the four people subconsciously took a step back, not wanting to have anything to do with the giant.

“Those centaurs didn’t give you any trouble, did they?” Evan asked.

“Not yet, they haven’t even shown up, but they must already know!” Hagrid continued, “I have to thank you, Evan, if it weren’t fer your help, I wouldn’t have been able to convince those stubborn folks.”

“They didn’t agree, they just said they’d observe for a while,” said Evan.

“Well, y’know, that’s somethin’, it is. Unlike when ya left, Grawp’s been pickin’ up some manners, bless ‘im,” Hagrid said with a forced smile on his face. “Makin’ strides in English too, long as folks are willin’ to give ‘im a fair go. Course, even if they kick up a fuss, it don’t matter much; the Forbidden Forest ain’t theirs. But it’s bound to make things a bit tricky, it is.”

Everyone expressed doubts about what Hagrid said.

One look at Hagrid and you wouldn’t believe that the giant had learned manners.

“It’s nuthin, didn’t hit me. Grawp don’ know his own strength,” said Hagrid. “Do you wan’ tea?”

“Did that giant attack you?”

“I’m tellin’ yeh, I’m fine, don’t talk about me!” said Hagrid, straightening up and turning to beam at them all, but wincing. “Blimey, it’s good ter see you four again — had good summers, did yeh?”

“Isn’t that giant scary? Why did he hit you?”

“Fer the las’ time, I’m fine!” said Hagrid firmly. “Grawp’s a good lad, he is, just needs a bit o’ time to adapt, yeh know.”

“Would you say it was nothing if one of us turned up with a pound of mince instead of a face?”

“You ought to go and see Madam Pomfrey, Hagrid,” said Hermione anxiously. “Some of those cuts look nasty.”

“I’m dealin’ with it, all righ’?” said Hagrid repressively.

He walked across to the enormous wooden table that stood in the middle of his cabin and twitched aside a tea towel that had been lying on it.

Underneath was a raw, bloody, green-tinged steak slightly larger than the average car tire.

“You’re not going to eat that, are you, Hagrid?” said Ron, leaning in for a closer look. “It looks poisonous!”

“Not poisonous, it’s s’posed ter look like that, it’s dragon meat,” Hagrid said. “An’ I didn’ get it ter eat.”

He picked up the steak and slapped it over the left side of his face. Greenish blood trickled down into his beard as he gave a soft moan of satisfaction.

“Tha’s better. It helps with the stingin’, yeh know.”

Dragon blood and dragon meat do have the effect of accelerating cell growth and relieving pain, but few people would do this like Hagrid. He was so primitive that he directly applied the meat to the wound. Madam Pomfrey would undoubtedly do a much better job.

However, doing so would require him to explain why he was injured, something Hagrid did not want. He didn’t want others to know he had brought a giant back; currently, only Evan, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Dumbledore, and Sirius knew.

“Where did you get this piece of dragon meat?” Evan asked, “It looks fresh?”

“Fresh? It seems to have gone bad?”

“No, dragon meat is this color.”

“Olympe got it fer me. Told her I needed a bit o’ dragon meat to ease the pain,” said Hagrid, adjusting the steak a little so that it covered the worst of the bruising. “Thanks to her, Grawp and I managed to cross the English Channel. Built ourselves a proper makeshift boat, goin’ with the flow and all. Ministry keeps an eye on Apparition and Portkeys, yeh see, so we couldn’t rely on that. And Disapparatin’ with Grawp? No chance, he’s a right giant, wouldn’t fit nohow.”

How big would a ship be that could hold a giant?!

“Well, why did it take you so long to come back? We thought you were in some danger.”

“Not an easy thing to hide a giant. Ah, the water’s ready!” Hagrid set tea in front of each of them, sat down, picked up his steak again, and slapped it back over his face. “Could on’y travel by nigh an’ through wild country an’ stuff. ’Course, he covers the ground pretty well when he wants ter; could have come back earlier, but he kep’ wantin’ ter go back. To convince him, I wasted some time. I tol’ Dumbledore ‘bout the situation, and toward the end of the journey, Olympe returned to help me. We picked up the pace then.”

“Hagrid, you really shouldn’t have brought that giant back!” Hermione said again.

“But I’ve brought ‘im back. He’s me brother. Couldn’t just leave ‘im. Evan should’ve clued yeh in on the chaos in the giant territory, right dangerous it is,” Hagrid explained. “Listen, I don’t want others knowin’ ’bout this, so you lot just pretend it doesn’t exist, like there’s never been a giant around. Now, had good summers, did yeh?”

“Not great, Harry has been attacked by Dementors!”

Hagrid choked in his mug and dropped his steak at the same time; a large quantity of spit, tea, and dragon blood was sprayed over the table as Hagrid coughed and spluttered and the steak slid, with a soft splat, onto the floor.

“Whadda yeh mean, attacked by Dementors?” growled Hagrid. “Yeh’re not serious?”

“Yeah, I am, they turned up in Little Whinging and attacked my cousin and me, and then the Ministry of Magic expelled me,” Harry drawled. “And I had to go to a hearing, and Evan went with me because he told the truth in the newspaper.”

“They’re crazy, they wanna expel you!” Hagrid glared at them through his one open eye.

“Yes, fortunately they failed in the end and we won the lawsuit!”

“Fudge is barmy, he is. Caught wind of some news on the way, but never thought there’d be Dementors involved!” He bent down and tugged the dragon steak out of Fang’s mouth. “Didn’t reckon the Ministry would go so far as to expel Harry, never even crossed me mind.”

“Oh, Hagrid, don’t, it’s not hygien —” Hermione began, but Hagrid had already slapped the meat back over his swollen eye.

“I heard Olympe say the Ministry of Magic is pokin’ around in Dumbledore’s business, tryin’ to shuffle him out of his job. It’s pure madness!” Hagrid exclaimed, taking a sip of tea. “Someone’s keepin’ tabs on ’em, and even the French Ministry’s gettin’ involved, cooperatin’ with…”

His words were drowned in a sudden outbreak of rapping on the door.

Hermione gasped; her mug slipped through her fingers and smashed on the floor; Fang yelped. All four of them stared at the window beside the doorway. The shadow of somebody small and squat rippled across the thin curtain.

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