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@scruffyoldhag-blog
Rubeus, Even though my husband has annoyed us both by ignoring our wishes, I had still prepared dinner involving you if you're still up for it. Love, Molly
Molly,Don’t be ridiculous. Arthur hasn't annoyed me in the slightest. I'm just glad he's home safe. And if the offer stands, you know I can't ignore your cooking. I can't stick around for long, but I can definitely pop in.- Rubeus
On the rocks|| Hagrid & Minerva.
Minerva nodded as Hagrid spoke. Perhaps it was best to let them grieve among themselves before intervening. She looked away from the tear streaking towards Hagrids’ beard, willing the lump in her throat to go away.
She looked back at him sharply when he spoke again, bristling though his tone was more grief than accusation, “Dumbledore must understands it better than I.” she began and then sighed, “He’ll be protected with someone from Lily’s side of the family. That no one will be able to harm him there.” Except perhaps, Lily’s side of the family, she thought bitterly, though she kept it to herself.
“Dumbledore wouldn’t have left him there if he didn’t think it was the best thing for him,” She took another sip of the firewhiskey and leaned forward, “It’s not for lack of families to house him, I’ll tell you that. Apparently there’s been owls into the castle all day inquiring as to his well-being and placement. I can think of four families in the order that would gladly take him, and dozens more that would be suitable.”
She leaned back and shook her head sadly, “I just hope that he really is as resilient as he seems to be.”
“Aye,” Hagrid muttered. “I hope the boy is too.”
He had to be. Little Harry James Potter, no bigger than a bowtruckle, had defeated the Dark Lord, the most powerful wizard of their time.
Hagrid picked up his large tankard of mead, chugged the rest, and stood up. He couldn’t tell just how empty Minerva’s drink was, but decided on bringing her another anyways as he decided to pick up his own. It would save either of them a trip.
As he walked away, his thoughts remained on the child and the living conditions in which he would be raised. It worried him to no end, but he would have to live with it. Hagrid placed all his trust in Headmaster Dumbledore. The man knew what he was doing.
He got to the bar and asked for another tankard of hot mead and a glass of firewhiskey for the lady, giving Imogen a quick wink though a smile stayed far from his face as she returned to the hustle-and-bustle of a busy night bartending. He walked back to his seat, speaking gruffly and with less sadness.
“’nough sad talk, professor. We’ll have plenty o’ time to mourn,” Hagrid said, taking a sip of his drink. “T’night, we drink.”
Sentence Starters {Lost Edition}
rpmemes-galore:
“You don’t seem afraid at all. I don’t understand that.”
“Hey, does anyone have a pen?”
“Hope is a very dangerous thing to lose.”
“You make excellent bait!”
”I don’t feel sorry for you, I pity you.”
“Sorry, fresh out of sweet forgiveness.”
“Sorry. I’m sneakier than I give myself credit for.”
“You have three choices: run, hide… or die.”
“Guess this is pretty much goodbye, then.”
“Don’t mistake coincidence for fate.”
“You’ve given up the right to be believed!”
“What, you didn’t hear about their little army?”
”I’m sorry I kissed you.”
“You’re one of the good ones.”
“You know what? Ignorance is bliss.”
”Do you think this is the best time?”
“They marked you? Let me see.”
“How did we get here…? How did all of this happened?”
“First things first… give me your shirt.”
“Trust you? I don’t even know you!”
”What makes you think that I’m so special?”
”Everything’s going to be okay. You’re with me, now.”
Dear Molls, Searched the halls of the Ministry up and down. No sign of Arthur. Getting a bit nervous, please send me an owl when he gets home. - Rubeus
Rubeus,
Thank you so much for going all that way for me. Arthur, as we both know, is as stubborn as can be and decided to slip home just to ensure that he wouldn’t feel like a child. I think being around the children has in fact turned him into one anyways.
He’s here now and I’ll be sure to scold him for making us worry.
Love,
Molly
Also, Charlie tried to explain what sort of dragon this was, but I told him that I believe you’ll have more luck understanding it.
Molls,
Glad he made it. They’re everywhere out there. Anyways, give him a good punch in the arm for me.
I’m enclosing a separate letter for Charlie.
Love,
Rubeus
Dear Charlie-boy,
Would you look at that?! That looks a whole lot like a Chinese Fireball dragon! I really like this drawing of it, especially that golden horn up top his head. Or her. Maybe the dragon’s a girl dragon! Did you know the Chinese Fireball is sometimes called the Lion Dragon?
You could be a great dragonologist when you grow up! You know what that is? It’s a wizard who gets to study dragons! Think about it! I think you’d do a very good job.
Have a good night, buddy. Take care of your mum for me
Your friend,
Hagrid
P.S. I made a dragon drawing for you too. I think yours looks better than mine.
Hagrid walked through the halls of Hogwarts, as he was known for doing, watching as the students and professors alike all walked past him. He smiled at all of them. Few students smiled back, most professors did. But their eyes all shifted to the object under his arm. A plant he found out in the Forest.
He reached the end of the hall and knocked on the last door before peaking his head in.
“Pomona? You in here?”
reverse of shade | the werewolf rampage | open
Mary glowered at him and snatched her hand from his grasp. So, it hurt, yes, and maybe throwing punches at an unknown target proved to be a stupid idea. But coming up behind her, unannounced, and scaring her like that wasn’t the most brilliant idea either, half giant or not.
“Yeah, you are! I’m fucking on watch, Hagrid – it’s all curse first, think later.” She hissed through her teeth, glaring at him and his nonexistent attempt to keep quiet. Werewolves out and about, the man refused to control the level of his voice. “Goddamnit, Hagrid, be quiet!” Her hand reached out to grab his arm, pull him deeper into the shadows of the side street to hide him, but an attempt moving the much larger, rather stubborn man proved futile, so Mary retreated back by herself instead. “You’re not taking me anywhere.” Her determination would never allow that.
Mary knew nothing about werewolves. Never seen one, not in real life, didn’t know what the monster could do. Never wanted to. Hagrid’s experience with creatures of all sorts gave him the right to want her to remove herself from the situation. But she signed up to fight, so she’d fight. There was no arguing with Mary when it came to that. “I don’t want them to kill anyone. That’s why I’m here. I know they’re dangerous, yeah? I know it, but all these people, the muggles, they don’t know what the fuck is coming. I’m not leaving. I’m not leaving, even if that means they hunt me down and kill me. At least I tried, alright?” There it came again, the sinking and jutting ever present reminder of her, their, mortality. Great.
She started to inch herself back down the alleyway, not bothering to see if Hagrid follow or not. Wand gripped tightly, it remained back down at her side. “Glad to see you don’t fuck around. Remind me not to piss you off.” She scoffed, nearly opening her mouth to tell him off again at his demands to get inside, when she heard it: the loud, echoing howl off in the distance, somewhere.
Hagrid was more furious now than he had been in a very long time. He didn’t like yelling at people, or demanding things from them, but he knew this would be important.
“Oh, really? Lil’ miss ‘On Watch’ over ‘ere thinks she’ll be fine against a pack o’ werewolves, hm?” he inquired softly, a sarcastic demeanor to his voice. “A pack o’ massive ‘nd monstrous dogs who’ll tear ya t’ shreds before ya even realize they got ya! Let alone th’ fact that we don’t know ‘ow many there are tonight, right?”
Then the howl broke out, and Hagrid turned cold as ice as he looked up towards the sky, facing the direction from where the terrifying sound came from.
“Fine,” he finally whispered, still facing away from Mary. “You wanna fight tonight? Fine. If I can’t get you indoors, I’m comin’ wit’ ya.” He looked down at the rifle in his hand, loading it and making sure it was ready to take a shot as soon as he needed it. “And one piece ‘f advice fer ya, Mary. If you can see the color in one o’ the beast’s eyes, you turn around and run, understand? You leave me behind, ‘nd run!”
THE HAGRID MEN
Dr. Jeremy Hagrid was a scholar, an anthropologist and a professor of the same field of study at the prestigious and ancient University of Oxford. On an expedition in the Forest of Dean (after hearing of potential sightings of evidence of tribal living), Dr. Hagrid met the young giantess Fridwulfa, and after a passionate night, impregnated her. Fridwulfa’s father, the chief of their tribe, forced Dr. Hagrid into marrying his daughter, who would later move to mainland England with the professor.
Jeremy and Fridwulfa tried their best to love one another, and in many ways they did. Unfortunately for Jeremy and their son Rubeus, Fridwulfa’s instinctual need to return to her tribe got the best of her. When Hagrid was three years old, she finally left, leaving her “small” baby behind with his father.
Rubeus Gabriel Hagrid was homeschooled and raised through years of strange looks and fear from passersby. He was treated as different because of his mixed heritage (even though the Muggle community was left unaware of his mother’s true nature). His father did his best to integrate wizarding culture, though the man never learned much himself, and his son was raised with confusion and insecurities about the world around him. Soon enough, he learned to clear his mind through the act of caring for animals and pets.
After entering Hogwarts, young Rubeus was faced with the same strange looks he grew up with. This time, the looks were a bit more hostile. He was pick on for his “unnatural” height and his early signs of facial hair. Still, Rubeus did his best to keep his head up and show strength and courage, just as his father had taught him to.
That is, until Rubeus’s father passed away from an unknown illness, possibly of magical nature.
The Hagrid men had an undying love for one another, as a father and son always should have, and Hagrid still visits his father’s grave every time he can.
About Meadowes || Marlene and Hagrid
“Not,” Marlene replied frankly, puffing out an exhausted breath, “uh, not so alright, yeah.” There was little use in lying to Hagrid. It would have defeated part of her purpose in turning up at the little groundskeeper’s hut in the first place. Besides, Hagrid would’ve known she was being untruthful.
Something in his confirmation seemed to cause her to wilt, despite Marlene’s apparent determination that Dorcas was truly missing. Hearing it matter-of-factly from his mouth, in the cold light of day and after hours of fruitless searching, left her feeling equal parts anger and sickness. Yet she had no target for all that energy and rage.
She nodded at his suggestion, ducking her head and following him through the door. “I don’t know where to look,” Marlene heard herself confess, even as her heartbeat threatened to take over and drown anything else from her ears. Gulping in air, she looked determinedly around the familiar, cozy cottage and made herself count out knick-knacks until she could turn towards Hagrid again. “Not that I’ll stop. I just… it’s like Alice and Frank all over again.”
Hagrid had seen the young witch at her worst back when she was younger still. He knew what “not so alright” meant. He knew what “not so alright” looked like. He stood up and walked over to the young woman, throwing an arm around her and rubbing her shoulder, trying his best to keep her comfortable. “Easy, girl,” he muttered to her as he guided her into the hut and sat her down in the smallest chair at his table (though it still seemed to be of a good size to the small woman).
He pulled his pink umbrella out from the holder near the door and pointed the tip at the fireplace where a cast iron kettle hung over the kindling, muttering a quick incendio and watching as the fire sparked beneath. Fang, who napped in the corner of the hut on a large cot, awoke surprised at the flame, noticed the young woman in despair, walked over and lay his head in her lap. He soon closed his eyes and fell asleep once more.
“List’n, Marlene,” Hagrid muttered as he took a seat beside her in a larger chair, placing his hand on the woman’s shoulder again. “It won’t be like the Longbottoms, a’right? Dumbledore would never allow fer that t’ happen again.”
reverse of shade | the werewolf rampage | open
Mary stopped in an instant, wand still at her side.
The sound, the creaking sound of footsteps, reached her ear and she sensed the presence of someone – something?– right behind her back. Down the alley, she only saw more shadows fading back and forth, dancing with the luminance from car headlights or shutting curtains, her eyes unable to see what lie ahead and giving her no notion that running, running from whatever lurked behind her.
Hitching in a breath, Mary’s eyes shifted to her peripherals, to see if she could make out a face or a hint or something, anything, besides the overwhelming shadow she now felt pressing down upon her. If it were a lycanthrope, surely it would not stalk her, follow her, wait? Surely, it would attack and lunge at her jugular without a human-like consciousness thought. She did not know if this fleeting fact soothed her rising panic, or only caused it to rise more, a surge of tension flooding into her chest.
It was then that she felt a large, heavy hand on her shoulder. Her stomach dropped, her body turned with its force, and she nearly punched Hagrid right in the nose – well, erm, chest actually, considering how much the half-giant towered over her.
“For fucking sakes, Hagrid! You’re lucky I didn’t curse you dead for doing that! Oh, fuck.” Mary hissed out in a panicked, hoarse whisper, taking in a few gasps of air to settle her racing heart. She sunk back towards the wall beside her, and now that the horror of the moment faded from her features, she stared up at him in furious determination. “I’m not going anywhere. I have to fight.” And the words rang so full of stubborn tenacity that she nearly dared him to force her to leave her post, if only by grabbing her himself and carrying her off. With a huff, lungs finally back to their normal routine of in and out, she tilted her head with a curious look. “Shit, is that a rifle? That thing actually going to work against…them?”
Hagrid barely felt anything as the woman’s fist bounced off his chest. Instead, his first reaction was to reach out and grab her hand, inspecting it to make sure she hadn’t injured herself. After a quick glance at her knuckles and searching for any general swelling in the wrist or hand, Hagrid was satisfied with the fact that she had not, in fact, injured herself in the act of trying to defend herself.
“I’m lucky you din’t curse me?” he asked in a loud whisper. The fear of what could be lying in the shadows around them summoned an inexplicable anger within him. Hagrid was seldom as angry as he was at this very moment. But it was irrational. Unnecessary, even. “You’re lucky I don’ pick you up and carry you indoors meself!” He was only quiet again when she mentioned her intention to fight the werewolves.
“There’s no fightin’ ‘em, Mary!” Hagrid exclaimed, running a hand first through his hair, then over his beard. “There’s very few ways of takin’ care o’ this business! There’s hidin’ from ‘em, or killin’ ‘em! They don’t duel, or fight ya, they simply hunt you down like the prey you are in their eyes, and kill ya! Is that really what you want, MacDonald?”
He looked at the weapon in his hand when Mary questioned it. “Yes, it’s a rifle. Ever since I ‘aven’t been able t’ use magic, I’ve got t’ defend myself somehow!” He smirked over at her. “And it better work. Spent a fortune buyin’ these bullets off the black market. Supposedly made with wolfsbane and dittany. Now seriously, what’s it gonna take to get you indoors?”
McGonagall, Dumbledore, Hagrid
Are you serious right now? Merlin, help me.
Marry: Minne, because she’s a firecracker, even if she’s disciplined. Besides, that can be rather fun when put to good use.
Fuck: Hagrid, because let’s be honest, I’m sure his cock is huge, and don’t say you haven’t thought about it. You have.
Kill: Dumbledore. Mostly because he’s like a grandfather to me in some way, so it would be really strange to have sex with him or marry him.
“Not sure why they thought becoming parents was a good idea, other than they were expected to. But I guess I survived so I can’t complain too much.”
“Hagrid, no one is meant to be alone. People choose to be alone, but that’s entirely different than some kind of fate.”
“Trust me, Sirius. Some were meant t’ be alone. Look at me. Half-giant an’ half-wizard. I ever tell you ‘bout me mum?”
“She abandoned me, Sirius. on account of my bein’ too small. A runt. A runt to half my people, and a monster t’ th’ other half. That’s all I’ll ever be. If that ain’t meant t’ be alone, I don’ know what is.”
“The ones that love us never really leave.”
Godric’s Hollow, 1993. Shortly after Sirius’s escape with Buckbeak.
The rain fell heavy on the statue at the center of the village square.
A man and woman sitting beside one another, an infant in the woman’s arms.
At the base, a small bronze plaque reads:
In memory of:JAMES AND LILY POTTER31 OCTOBER 1981
slurred words
“The liver in that lil’ lady’s amazin’! Never met a full-human wit’ a liver than can catch up t’ mine. Ev’n Alastor ‘nd Benjy ‘ave a heard time stayin’ caught up wit’ me. Dorcas ‘as not only caught up t’ me on several occasions, but ‘as lasted longer than me! She’s a sweet’eart, ya know. ‘Badass’, and all tha’, ‘f course, but I can tell ya there’s a tiiiiiiiiiny bit’a softness in that heart o’ hers. Those who’ve seen it’ll all tell you the same thing: it’s beautiful. She’s beautiful.”
slurred words
“Fuckin’ insane! Lives and breathes ‘is work, ‘as very lil’ time fer anythin’ else. With tha’ bein’ said, he’s a close friend o’ mine since I dunno when. Maybe it was when ‘e joined the Order, maybe it was back when he was a tyke walkin’ around the school grounds knowin’ full well he shouldn’a been out by my hut. I remember when I first met ‘im! I used to carry my wand in an ax, scared the shit out th’ lil’ basterd! Funny how I call ‘im lil’, though, he’s only ‘bout six years younger than me. But somewhere along th’ lines, we sat ov’r some o’ Molly’s cookies and jus’ laughed. Rumor ‘as it ‘e don’t laugh much. So I take that to th’ heart, wit’ great pride.”
slurred words
“Molly. Molly. Ev’n ‘er name’s pretty. Flamin’ red hair, pretty eyes o’ hers. Funny, though. Never really thought I’d meet someone who really loved me th’ way Molly loves me. ‘f course, not that kinda love. She’s a married wom’n, after all. Great mother, fantastic wife. Best chef ‘n th’ world, that I c’n promise ya! I practically live off ‘er food, ya know! Ah, Molly. Sweet, sweet Molly...”
