The Keeper of the Keys
BOOM. It crashed again. “Where’s the cannon?” Dudley asked. Harry couldn’t confidently correct him as to what the noise actually was. Though he was fairly certain it wasn't a cannon.
There was a crash behind them and Uncle Vernon came skidding into the room. He was holding a rifle in his hands and Harry couldn't help but feel in danger, as though the gun was seconds away from being pointed directly at him. At least now they know what had been in the long thin package that he had brought with them.
“Who’s there?” he shouted, “I warn you - I’m armed!”
There was a pause. Then -
SMASH!
The door was hit with such force that it swung clean off its hinges and with a deafening crash landed flat on the floor.
A giant of a man was standing in the doorway. His silhouette illuminated by the lightning outside. What Harry could make out of the man's face was almost completely covered in long, shaggy hair and a matching beard. He looked wild, a crazed glint to his eyes and he searched the room.
Harry hadn't quite imagined this being the way he was taken away from the family, but out of all the thoughts he’d had, he’s mainly just impressed that a giant is the thing to put an end to his life and misery. He can't even bring it upon himself to be scared all that much. Maybe he’s still a little scared.
The giant squeezed through the frame and into the hut, stooping so that his head just brushed the ceiling. He bent down, picked up the door and fitted it easily back into its frame.The nose of the storm outside became more muffled. He turned to look at them all.
“Couldn't make us a cup o’ tea, could yeh? Its not been an easy journey…” He strode over to the sofa where Dudley sat frozen with fear. “Budge up, yeh great lump,” said the stranger.
Dudley, to Harry’s satisfaction, squeaked and ran to hide behind his mother, who was crouching, terrified, behind Uncle Vernon.
“An’ here’s Harry!” said the giant. It nerved Harry more that the giant in the living room knew his name than it did that giants existed in the first place.
Harry looked up into the fierce, wild shadowy face and saw his eyes were glinting like black beetles under the hair. They crinkled into a smile.
“Las’ time I saw you, you was only a baby. Yeh look a lot like yer dad, but yeh’ve got yer mum’s eyes.”
Uncle Vernon made a funny rasping noise as Aunt Petunia covered her face with her hands.
“I demand you leave at once, sir!” he said. “You are breaking and entering!”
“Ah, shut up, Dursley, yeh great prune,” said the giant who has apparently met him already and knows of his parents. Harry is desperate for answers, but even more confused than when the giant first arrived.
The giant reached over the back of the sofa, jerked the gun out of Vernon’s hands, bent it into a knot as easily as if it had been made of rubber, and threw it into a corner of the room.
Uncle Vernon made another funny noise, though this one sounded more like a nervous child on halloween.
“Anyway - Harry.” said the giant, turning his back on the Dursley’s. Harry realises in this moment that he is the only one on this side of the giant, as the Dursley’s hide in the opposite corner together. “A very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat fer yeh here- i mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste alright.”
From an inside pocket of his black overcoat he pulled a slightly squashed box. Harry took it shakily. “Thank you.”
“Wait until yeh’ve seen it at least.”
Harry nodded and opened it, fighting his trembling fingers. Inside was a large, sticky chocolate cake with Happy Birthday Harry written on it in green icing. Harry looked up at the giant with something akin to awe. He wanted to say thank you again, but he had already said it, this time he meant it. Instead of the words thank you, Harry stumbled the words on their way out, instead saying, “Who are you?”
The giant chuckled as Harry’s heart felt like giving out at the sudden question.
“True, I haven't introduced meself. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of the Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts.”
He held out an enormous hand and shook Harry’s whole arm.“What about that tea then, eh?” he said, rubbing his hands together. “I’d not say no ter sommat stronger if yeh’ve got it, mind.”
His eyes fell on the empty grate with the shrivelled crisp packets in it and he snorted. He bent down over the fireplace; they couldn't see what he was doing but when he drew back there was a roaring fire there. It filled the whole damp hut with flickering light and Harry felt the warmth wash over him as though he’d sunk into a hot bath.
The giant (Ruben? Hargrove?), sat back down on the sofa, which sagged under his weight, and began taking all sorts of things out of the pockets of his coat: a copper kettle, a squashy packages of sausages, a poker, a teapot, several chipped mugs and a bottle of some amber liquid which he took a swig from before starting to make tea. Soon the hut was full of the sound and small of sizzling sausage. Nobody said a thing while the giant was working, but as he slid the first six fat, juicy, slightly burnt sausages from the poker, Dudley fidgeted a little. Uncle Vernon said sharply, “Don't you touch anything he gives you, Dudley.”
The giant chuckled darkly, turning to look from Dudley to Harry and raising an eyebrow at Uncle Vernon.
“Yer think if anyone here will be needin’ a fattenin’, it’ll be ‘im? ‘Arry here needs it more than yer great puddin’ of a son.”
He passed the sausage to Harry, who wa sso hungry he had never tasted anything so wonderful, but he still couldn't take his eyes off the giant. The giant watched him eat with an expression Harry couldn't decipher. After a few more sausages had been passed over to him and eaten, no one still made any move to explain this situation. Harry said, “I’m very sorry sir, but I still don’t really know who you are.”
The giant took a gulp of tea and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Call me Hagrid,” he said, “everyone does. An’ like I told yeh, I’m keeper of keys at Hogwarts - Yeh’ll know all about Hogwarts, o’ course.” Harry had just wondered if Hogwarts was another bank that Uncle Vernon disapproved of.
“Er - sorry sir, but I don't,” said Harry.
Hagrid looked shocked.
Harry tried to think of what to say to backpedal but he never was any good at appeasing people.
“ Sorry? ” barked Hagrid. Harry flinched. Hagrid turned to stare at the Dursleys, who shrank back into the shadows. “It’s them that ‘as to be sorry! I knew yeh weren't gettin’ yer letters but I never thought yeh wouldn't even know abou’ Hogwarts, fer cryin’ out loud! Did yeh never wonder where yer parents learnt it all?”
“All what?” asked Harry
“ALL WHAT?” Hagrid thundered and Harry stepped further away from the giant's reach. “No,” Hagrid quieted down, “now wait just one second.” He rose from the sofa and suddenly seemed to fill the whole hut with his anger. The Dursley’s were cowering against the wall. Harry said the wrong thing and now they were all going to pay the price. His chest felt tight as he waited for the explosion.
“Do yeh mean ter tell me,” he growled, now facing the Dursley’s entirely, “that this boy - this boy! - knows nothin’ abou’ - about ANYTHING?”
Harry kept his offence to himself. He had been to school, he wasn't entirely uneducated, and he did quite enjoy his lessons even if his marks didn't reflect it. It’s not the first time he’s been insulted about his intelligence but hearing it hurts nonetheless.
“I promise I do know some things sir,” he said. “I can, you know, do maths and read.”
But Hagrid simply waved his hand and said, “About our world, I mean. Your world. My world. Yer parents’ world. ”
That had Harry completely stumped. They’d gone over Earth in detail in class the other day, and unless Hagrid is about to announce that he’s secretly an alien and so were his parents then he’s fairly certain he’s from Earth - this world. Although, and he does genuinely hope for a second, maybe being an alien would explain why he feels so.. Alien around everyone else.
“What world?”
Hagrid looked as if he was about to explode, Harry shouldn't have pushed.
“DURSLEY!” he boomed. Harry squatted and tucked himself away in the corner.
Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had gone pale. Hagrid turned suddenly to stare wildly at Harry.
“But yer must know about yer mum and dad,” he pleaded, “I mean, they’re famous . You’re famous.”
Harry looked away, ashamed that he really apparently did know nothing of his mum and dad.
“Yeh don’ know … yeh don’ know…” Hagrid sounded dejected, running his hands through his hair. He stared, bewildered at Harry. “Yeh don’ know what yeh are ?”
Was this the alien thing? Is that what it was? Or maybe he meant the celebrity world. But surely someone would have mentioned something if his parents were celebrities.
Aunt Petunia suddenly found her voice.
“Stop!” she commanded wobbly, “stop right there! I forbid you from telling the boy anything!”
Hagrid gave Petunia the furious look that Harry himself felt. After all this time he can finally hear about his parents, and they're silencing him.
When Hagrid spoke, his every symbol trembled with rage. “You never told him? Never told him what was in the letter Dumbledore left fer him? I was there! I saw Dumbledore leave it, Dursley! An’ you’ve kept it from him all these years?”
“Kept what from me?” Harry interrupts timidly.
“STOP! I FORBID YOU!” yelled Uncle Vernon in panic.
Aunt Petunia gave a gasp of horror.
“Ah, go boil yer heads, both of yeh,” said Hagrid. “Yer a wizard, Harry.”
There was silence inside the hut. Only rain and the whistling wind could be heard.
“I’m a what ?” gasped Harry, who genuinely had accepted the fact he might be an alien. Wizard surely implies.. Magic, skill, worthiness, something Harry is severely lacking.
“A wizard, o’ course,’ said Hagrid, sitting back down on the sofa, which groaned and sank even lower. “An’ a thumpin’ good’un, I’d say, once yeh’ve been trained up a bit. With a mum an’ dad like yours, what else would yeh be? An’ i reckon it’s abou’ time yeh read yer letter.”
Harry stretched out his hand at last to take the yellowish envelope, addressed in emerald green to Mr H. Potter, The Floor, Hut-in-the-Clearing, The Forest. He pulled out the letter and read:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)
Dear Mr Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Questions exploded inside Harry’s head like fireworks and he couldn't decide which to ask first. After a few minutes he stammered, “What does it mean they await my owl?”
“Gallopin’ Gorgons, that reminds me,” said Hagrid, clapping a hand to his forehead with a concerning amount of force, and from yet another pocket inside his overcoat he pulled an owl - a real, live, rather sleepy looking owl - a long feather and a roll of paper.
“Here’s some parchment, take the quill,” Hargid shoved the things in his direction as he busied himself petting the owl awake. It looked to have been enjoying its nap inside his pocket.
“Now, Harry, write my words down as I say ‘em.”
Harry nodded and lay to the floor, preparing the pen and paper to write on.
Dear Mr Dumbledore,
Given Harry his letter.
Taking him to buy his things tomorrow.
Weather’s horrible.
Hope you’re well.
Hagrid.
It had taken Harry a rather long time to write the short message but once he was finished he found himself rather proud of the writing. Perhaps a quill of his own would greatly improve his lettering.
Without even a quick glance over it, Hagrid rolled up the note, gave it to the owl, which clamped its beak, went to the door and released the owl out into the storm. Then he came back and sat down as though this was as normal as talking on the telephone.
Harry realised his mouth was open, quill still in hand. He closed it and passed the quill back.
“Where was I?” said Hagrid, but at that moment, Uncle Vernon, still ashen-faced but looking very angry, moved into the firelight.
“He’s not going,” he said.
Hagrid grunted.
“I’d like ter see a great Muggle like you stop him,” he said.
“A what?” said Harry, before he could think any better of interrupting his Uncle.
“A Muggle,” Hagrid continued, none the wiser. “It’s what we call non-magic folk like them. An’ it’s your bad luck yer grew up in a family o’ the biggest Muggle I ever laid eyes on.”
“We swore when we took him in we’d put a stop to that rubbish,” said Uncle Vernon, “swore we’d stamp it out of him! Make sure he knew his place.”
Harry shook at the reminder of his treatment over the years, tears filling his eyes. They knew? This whole time they knew he was a wizard, that this was who he was supposed to be and chose to beat it out of him. He never knew, they didn't have to ‘stamp it out of him’. If he never knew why would they continue to? So many questions ran through Harry’s mind but his soft, quiet voice came to him to ask one anyways.
“You knew?” It was meak, and weak, but he was so used to his voice sounding like this that he wouldn't be surprised.
“Knew!” shrieked Aunt Petunia, and Harry jumped out of his skin, head snapping to her direction. Her face had a wrinkled, viscous look aimed directly at him. “Of course we knew! How could you not be, my fucking sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that cult and came home every holiday with her pockets full of frog-spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was - a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this, Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!” She stopped to draw a breath in.
So many things in what Aunt Petunia yelled shocked Harry to the core: the swearing, the hate, the freak . And yet all Harry’s mind supplied now was. My mother’s name is Lily. He wondered what else they knew that they’d kept from him.
But Aunt Petunia hadn’t finished yet, it seemed she’d wanted to say all this for years. Harry is momentarily surprised she didn't rant sooner considering how little she refrained herself before. But the thought that she was indeed refraining herself scared him more.
“Then she had to meet that Potter at school and they left and got married and had you, and of course I knew you’d be just the same, just as strange, just as - as - abnormal - and then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you!”
Harry had gone very white. As soon as he found his voice, he said “Blown up? You said they died in a car crash?”
“CAR CRASH!” roared Hagrid, jumping up so angrily that the Dursley’s scuttled back to their corner. “How could a car crash kill Lily an’ James Potter? It’s an outrage! A scandal! Harry Potter not knowin’ his own story when every kid in our world knows his name!”
James. James and Lily Potter are my parents' names.
With renewed confidence Harry asked urgently, “But why? What happened?”
The anger faded from Hagrid's face. He looked suddenly anxious.
“I never expected this,” he said in a low, worried voice. “I had no idea, when Dumbledore told me there might be trouble gettin’ hold of yeh, how much yeh didn't know. Ah, Harry, i don’ know if I’m the right person ter tell yeh - but someone’s gotta - yeh can't go off ter hogwarts not knowin’.”
He threw a dirty look at the Dursleys.
“Well, it's best yer know as much as I can tell yeh - mind, I can't tell yeh everythin’, it's a great myst’ry, parts of it…”
He sat down, stared into the fire for a few moments and then said, “It started, I suppose, with – with a person called – well, its incredible you don't know his name, everyone in our world knows –” He seemed to be struggling.
“Who?” Harry prompted.
“Well – i don’ like sayin’ the name if i can help it. No one does.”
“Okay… Why not?” Harry said cautiously.
“Gulpin Gargoyles, Harry, people are still scared. Blimey, this is difficult. See, there was this wizard who went… bad. As bad as you could go. Worse. Worse than worse. His name was…”
“Would writing it down be easier?”
“Nah – can't spell it. All right –” Hagrid leaned closer – Harry mirrored the movement – and lowered his voice to a whisper. “ Voldemort .” Hagrid shuddered. “Don’ make me say it again. Anyway, this – this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin’ fer followers. Got ‘em too – some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o’ his power, ‘cause he was gettin’ himself power, all right. Dark days, Harry. Didn't know who ter trust, didn’t dare get friendly with stranger wizards or witches… Terrible things happened. He was takin’ over. ‘Course, some stood up to him – an’ he killed ‘em. Horribly. Displayed ‘em about. One o’ the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dulmbledore’s the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn't dare try takin’ the school, not jus’ then, anyway.
“Now, yer mum an’ dad were as good a witch an’ wizard as I ever knew. Head boy an’ girl at Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the myst’ry is why You-Know-Who never tried ter get ‘em on his side before… probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin’ ter do with the Dark Side.
“Maybe he thought he could persuade ‘em… maybe he just wanted ‘em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on Hallowe’en ten years ago. You was just a year old. He came ter yer house an’ – an’ –”
Hagrid suddenly pulled out a very dirty, spotted handkerchief and blew his nose with a sound like a foghorn.
“Sorry,” he said. “But it’s that sad – knew yer mum an’ dad, an’ nicer people yeh couldn't find – anyway –
“You-Know-Who killed ‘em. An’ then – an’ this was the real myst’ry of the thing – he tried to kill you, too. Wanted ter make a clean job of it, I suppose, or maybe he just liked killin’ by then. But he couldn't do it. Never wondered how you got those marks on yer head? That’s no ordinary scar. That’s what yer get when a powerful, evil curse touches yeh – took care of yer mum an’ dad an’ yer house, even – but it didn't work on you, an’ thats why yer famous, Harry. No one ever lived after he decided ter kill ‘em, no one except you, an’ he’d killed some o’ the best witches an’ wizards of the age – the McKinnons, the Bones, the Prewetts – an’ you was only a baby, an’ you lived.”
Something very painful was going on in Harry’s mind. As Hagrid’s story came to a close, he saw again the blinding flash of green light, more clearly that he had ever remembered it before – and he remembered something else, for the first time in his life – a high, cold, cruel laugh.
“W-Was it green? The curse?”
Hagrid looked horrified and angry and like his face couldn't settle on one of the two. “That’s somethin’ I’ll have a word with Professor McGonagall abou’.” He cleared his throat and looked at him sadly.
“Took yeh from the ruined house myself, on Dumbledore’s orders. Brought yer ter this lot…”
“Load of old tosh,” said Uncle Vernon. Harry jumped, he had almost forgotten that the Dursley’s were there. Uncle Vernon certainly seemed to have got back his courage. He was glaring at Hagrid and his fists were clenched, the way they usually did when he was ready for a fight.
“Now, you listen here, boy,” he snarled. “I accept there’s something strange about you, probably nothing enough good beatings wouldn’t eventually cure – and as for all this about your parents, well, they were weirdos, no denying it, and the world’s better off without them in my opinion – asked for all they got, getting mixed up with these wizarding types – just what I expected, always knew they’d come to a sticky end –”
But at that moment, before the tears could fall from Harry’s eyes, Hagrid leapt from the sofa and drew a battered pink umbrella from inside his coat. Pointing this at Uncle Vernon like a sword, he said, “I’m warnin’ you, Dursley – I’m warning you – one more word…”
In danger of being speared on the end of an umbrella by a bearded giant, Uncle Vernon’s courage failed again; he flattened himself against the wall and fell silent.
“That’s better,” said Hagrid, breathing heavily and sitting back down on the sofa which this time sagged right down to the floor.
Harry, meanwhile, still had questions to ask, hundreds of them. He wanted to know everything.
“But what happened to Vol- sorry – I mean, You-Know-Who?”
“Good question, Harry. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried ter kill you. Makes yeh even more famous. That's the biggest myst’ry, see… he was gettin’ more an’ more powerful – why’d he go?
“Some say he died. Whatever he shot at yeh mighta bounced right back an’ hit him. Codswallop, if yer asked me. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say he’s still out there, bidin’ his time, like, but I don’ believe it. People who was on his side came back ter ours. Some of ‘em came outta kinda trances. Don’ reckon they could’ve done if he was coming’ back.
“Most of us reckon he's still out there somewhere but lost his powers. Too weak to carry on. ‘Cause somethin’ about you finished him, Harry. There was somethin’ goin’ on that night he hadn't counted on – I dunno what it was, no one does – but somethin’ about you stumped him, all right.”
Hagrid looked at Harry with warmth and respect blazing in his eyes, but Harry, instead of feeling pleased and proud, felt entirely undeserving. He was quite sure there must’ve been some kind of horrible mistake. A wizard? Him? How could he possibly be? He’d spent his entire life being clouded by Dudley and bullied by Aunt Petunia and beaten by Uncle Vernon; if he really was a wizard, why had he been so easily kicked around like a football?
“Hagrid,” he said quietly, “I think you must have made a mistake. I don't think I can be a wizard.”
To his surprise, Hagrid chuckled.
“Not a wizard, eh? Never made things happen when you was scared, or angry?”
Harry looked into the fire. Now he came to think about it… every odd thing that had ever made his aunt and uncle furious with him had happened when he, Harry, had been upset or angry… chased by Dudley’s gang, he had somehow found himself out of their reach… dreading going to school with that ridiculous haircut, he’d managed to make it grow back…
Harry looked back at Hagrid, smiling, and saw that Hagrid was positively beaming at him.
“See?” said Hagrid. “Harry Potter, not a wizard – you wait, you’ll be right famous at Hogwarts.”
But Uncle Vernon wasn't going to give in without a fight.
“Haven’t I told you he’s not going?” he hissed. “He’s going to Stonewall High and he’ll be grateful for it. I’ve read those letters and he needs all sorts of rubbish – spell books and wans and –”
“If he wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won’t stop him,” growled Hagrid. “Stop Lily an’ James Potter’s son goin’ ter Hogwarts! Yer mad. His name’s been down ever since he was born. He’s off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and he won’t know himself. He’ll be with youngsters of his own sort, fer a change, an’ he’ll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had, Albus Dumbled–”
“I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HIM MAGIC TRICKS!” yelled Uncle Vernon.
But he had finally gone too far. Hagrid seized his umbrella and whirled it over his head. “NEVER,” he thundered, “-- INSULT – ALBUS – DUMBLEDORE – IN – FRONT – OF – ME!”
He brought the umbrella swishing down through the air to point at Dudley – there was a flash of violet light, a sound like a firecracker, a sharp squeal and the next second, Dudley was dancing on the spot with his hands clasped over his bottom, howling in pain. When he turned his back on them, Harry saw a curly pig’s tail poking through a hole in his trousers.
Uncle Vernon roared. Pulling Aunt Petunia and Dudley into the other room, he cast one last terrified look at Hagrid and slammed the door behind them.
Hagrid looked down at his umbrella and stroked his beard.
“Shouldn’ta lost me temper,” he said ruefully, “but it didn't work anyway. Meant ter turn him into a pig, but I suppose the tail should teach him a lesson.”
He cast a sideways look at Harry under his bushy eyebrows.
“Be grateful if yeh didn’t mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts,” he said. “I’m – er – not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin’. I was allowed ter do a bit ter follow yeh an’ get yer letters to yeh an’ stuff – one o’ the reasons I was so keen ter take on the job –”
“Why aren’t you supposed to do magic?”
“Oh, well – I was at Hogwarts meself but I – er – got expelled, ter tell yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wand in half an’ everything. But Dumbledore let me stay on as gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore.”
“Why were you expelled?”
“It’s gettin’ late and we’ve got lots ter do tomorrow,” said Hagrid loudly. “Gotta get up ter town, get all yer books an’ that.”
He took off his thick black coat and threw it to Harry.
“You can kip under that,” he said. “Don’ mind if it wriggles a bit, I think I still got a couple o’ dormice in one o’ the pockets.”