t was my mother," said Hagrid quietly. "She was one o' the las' ones in Britain.
'Course, I can' remember her too well. . . she left, see. When I was abou' three. She
wasn' really the maternal sort. Well. . . it's not in their natures, is it? Dunno what
happened to her . . . might be dead fer all I know. ..."
Madame Maxime didn't say anything. And Harry, in spite of himself, took his eyes
off the beetle and looked over the top of the reindeer's antlers, listening. ... He had
never heard Hagrid talk about his childhood before.
"Me dad was broken-hearted when she wen'. Tiny little bloke, my dad was. By the
time I was six I could lift him up an' put him on top o' the dresser if he annoyed
me. Used ter make him laugh. . . ." Hagrid's deep voice broke. Madame Maxime
was listening, motionless, apparently staring at the silvery fountain. "Dad raised
me . . . but he died, o' course, jus' after I started school. Sorta had ter make me own
way after that. Dumbledore was a real help, mind. Very kind ter me, he was. . . ."
Hagrid pulled out a large spotted silk handkerchief and blew his nose heavily.
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"So ... anyway . . . enough abou' me. What about you? Which side you got it on?"
But Madame Maxime had suddenly got to her feet.
"It is chilly," she said - but whatever the weather was doing, it was nowhere near
as cold as her voice. "I think I will go in now."
"Eh?" said Hagrid blankly. "No, don go! I've - I've never met another one before!"
"Anuzzer what, precisely?" said Madame Maxime, her tone icy.
Harry could have told Hagrid it was best not to answer; he stood there in the
shadows gritting his teeth, hoping against hope he wouldn't - but it was no good.
"Another half-giant, o' course!" said Hagrid.
"'Ow dare you!" shrieked Madame Maxime. Her voice exploded through the
peaceful night air like a foghorn; behind him. Harry heard Fleur and Roger fall out
of their rosebush. "I 'ave nevair been more insulted in my life! 'Alf-giant? Moi? I
'ave - I 'ave big bones!"
She stormed away; great multicolored swarms of fairies rose into the air as she
passed, angrily pushing aside bushes. Hagrid was still sitting on the bench, staring
after her. It was much too dark to make out his expression. Then, after about a
minute, he stood up and strode away, not back to the castle, but off out into the
dark grounds in the direction of his cabin.
"C'mon," Harry said, very quietly to Ron. "Let's go. . . ."
But Ron didn't move.
"What's up?" said Harry, looking at him.
Ron looked around at Harry, his expression very serious indeed.
"Did you know?" he whispered. "About Hagrid being half-giant?"
"No," Harry said, shrugging. "So what?"
He knew immediately, from the look Ron was giving him, that he was once again
revealing his ignorance of the wizarding world. Brought up by the Dursleys, there
were many things that wizards took for granted that were revelations to Harry, but
these surprises had become fewer with each successive year. Now, however, he
could tell that most wizards would not have said "So what?" upon finding out that
one of their friends had a giantess for a mother.
"I'll explain inside," said Ron quietly, "c'mon. . .."
Fleur and Roger Davies had disappeared, probably into a more private clump of
bushes. Harry and Ron returned to the Great Hall. Parvati and Padma were now
sitting at a distant table with a whole crowd of Beauxbatons boys, and Hermione
was once more dancing with Krum. Harry and Ron sat down at a table far
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removed from the dance floor.
"So?" Harry prompted Ron. "What's the problem with giants?"
"Well, they're . . . they're . . ." Ron struggled for words. ". . . not very nice," he
finished lamely.
"Who cares?" Harry said. "There's nothing wrong with Hagrid!"
"I know there isn't, but. . . blimey, no wonder he keeps it quiet," Ron said, shaking
his head. "I always thought he'd got in the way of a bad Engorgement Charm when
he was a kid or something. Didn't like to mention it. ..."
"But what's it matter if his mother was a giantess?" said Harry.
"Well... no one who knows him will care, 'cos they'll know he's not dangerous,"
said Ron slowly. "But. . . Harry, they're just vicious, giants. It's like Hagrid said,
it's in their natures, they're like trolls . . . they just like killing, everyone knows
that. There aren't any left in Britain now, though."
"What happened to them?"
"Well, they were dying out anyway, and then loads got themselves killed by
Aurors. There're supposed to be giants abroad, though. . . . They hide out in
mountains mostly. . . ."
"I don't know who Maxime thinks she's kidding," Harry said, watching Madame
Maxime sitting alone at the judges' table, looking very somber. "If Hagrid's halfgiant,
she definitely is. Big bones . .. the only thing that's got bigger bones than her
is a dinosaur."
Harry and Ron spent the rest of the ball discussing giants in their corner, neither of
them having any inclination to dance. Harry tried not to watch Cho and Cedric too
much; it gave him a strong desire to kick something.
When the Weird Sisters finished playing at midnight, everyone gave them a last,
loud round of applause and started to wend their way into the entrance hall. Many
people were expressing the wish that the ball could have gone on longer, but Harry
was perfectly happy to be going to bed; as far as he was concerned, the evening
hadn't been much fun.
Out in the entrance hall, Harry and Ron saw Hermione saying good night to Krum
before he went back to the Durmstrang ship. She gave Ron a very cold look and
swept past him up the marble staircase without speaking. Harry and Ron followed
her, but halfway up the staircase Harry heard someone calling him.
"Hey-Harry!"
It was Cedric Diggory. Harry could see Cho waiting for him in the entrance hall
below.
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"Yeah?" said Harry coldly as Cedric ran up the stairs toward him.
Cedric looked as though he didn't want to say whatever it was in front of Ron, who
shrugged, looking bad-tempered, and continued to climb the stairs.
"Listen ..." Cedric lowered his voice as Ron disappeared. "I owe you one for
telling me about the dragons. You know that golden egg? Does yours wail when
you open it?"
"Yeah," said Harry.
"Well... take a bath, okay?"
"What?"
"Take a bath, and - er - take the egg with you, and - er - just mull things over in the
hot water. It'll help you think. . . . Trust me."
Harry stared at him.
"Tell you what," Cedric said, "use the prefects' bathroom. Fourth door to the left of
that statue of Boris the Bewildered on the fifth floor. Password's 'pine fresh.' Gotta
go ... want to say good night -"
He grinned at Harry again and hurried back down the stairs to Cho.
Harry walked back to Gryffindor Tower alone. That had been extremely strange
advice. Why would a bath help him to work out what the wailing egg meant? Was
Cedric pulling his leg? Was he trying to make Harry look like a fool, so Cho
would like him even more by comparison?
The Fat Lady and her friend Vi were snoozing in the picture over the portrait hole.
Harry had to yell "Fairy lights!" before he woke them up, and when he did, they
were extremely irritated. He climbed into the common room and found Ron and
Hermione having a blazing row. Standing ten feet apart, they were bellowing at
each other, each scarlet in the face.
"Well, if you don't like it, you know what the solution is, don't you?" yelled
Hermione; her hair was coming down out of its elegant bun now, and her face was
screwed up in anger.
"Oh yeah?" Ron yelled back. "What's that?"
"Next time there's a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last
resort!"
Ron mouthed soundlessly like a goldfish out of water as Hermione turned on her
heel and stormed up the girls' staircase to bed. Ron turned to look at Harry.
"Well," he sputtered, looking thunderstruck, "well - that just proves - completely
missed the point -"
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Harry didn't say anything. He liked being back on speaking terms with Ron too
much to speak his mind right now - but he somehow thought that Hermione had
gotten the point much better than Ron had.
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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR - RITA SKEETER'S SCOOP
Everybody got up late on Boxing Day. The Gryffindor common room was much
quieter than it had been lately, many yawns punctuating the lazy conversations.
Hermione's hair was bushy again; she confessed to Harry that she had used liberal
amounts of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion on it for the ball, "but it's way too much bother
to do every day," she said matter-of-factly, scratching a purring Crookshanks
behind the ears.
Ron and Hermione seemed to have reached an unspoken agreement not to discuss
their argument. They were being quite friendly to each other, though oddly formal.
Ron and Harry wasted no time in telling Hermione about the conversation they
had overheard between Madame Maxime and Hagrid, but Hermione didn't seem to
find the news that Hagrid was a half-giant nearly as shocking as Ron did.
"Well, I thought he must be," she said, shrugging. "I knew he couldn't be pure
giant because they're about twenty feet tall. But honestly, all this hysteria about
giants. They can't all be horrible. . . . It's the same sort of prejudice that people
have toward werewolves. . . . It's just bigotry, isn't it?"
Ron looked as though he would have liked to reply scathingly, but perhaps he
didn't want another row, because he contented himself with shaking his head
disbelievingly while Hermione wasn't looking.
It was time now to think of the homework they had neglected during the first week
of the holidays. Everybody seemed to be feeling rather flat now that Christmas
was over - everybody except Harry, that is, who was starting (once again) to feel
slightly nervous.
The trouble was that February the twenty-fourth looked a lot closer from this side
of Christmas, and he still hadn't done anything about working out the clue inside
the golden egg. He therefore sta