Hagrid's Hut
Minerva ran across the grounds, exhilarated by the fresh, cool air. The previous night’s rain had left fed the thirsty grass, and Minerva loved the way it felt beneath her paws, springy and still damp. Tempted though she was to play a while in her Animagus form, she held her feline aspect in tight rein and kept her mind focussed on her mission to help Hagrid. He was one of her oldest friends, after all, and her honorary “little” brother.
She reached the door to his cabin and scratched at it, meowing. Not even Brutus stirred within, so Minerva picked her way around to his vegetable gardens, then to the back, where his marrows and pumpkins grew beside a trellis filled with French beans. Hagrid wasn’t there, but Minerva was intrigued by the scents of his gardens and began sniffing around. Lovely here . . . perfect for a little catnap, she thought, while waiting for him. She settled into a nice tuft of grass in the shade at the base of the trellis and put her head on her paws.
Dozing with her eyes half-closed, Minerva heard voices coming from the other side of the cabin, and then Hagrid and Wilhelmina came around the corner. Wilhelmina, at about five-foot-three, seemed even smaller than usual, compared to Hagrid’s massive bulk. She held his left arm, almost in an embrace, and was speaking gently to him. It seemed an awkward moment to reveal herself, so Minerva remain quiet in the shadows and the cover of the grass and weeds.
“Oh, Hagrid, you mustn’t let such remarks bother you, sweetheart. You are a valued member of the Hogwarts staff, and much better liked than either Ogg or Dustern. And Dumbledore appreciates you.” Wilhelmina gave Hagrid’s arm a squeeze against her chest. “I appreciate you, Hagrid, love.”
Minerva’s eyes grew rounder as she saw Wilhelmina rub Hagrid’s chest and rise up on her tip-toes to kiss his sternum.
Hagrid sighed loudly and sniffed. His eyes were red, as if he’d been having a good cry. “I know yeh do, Meena, but yer goin’ away.” A great shuddering breath came from him. “Yer goin’ away ferever.”
“Sweetheart, would you really want me to pass up this opportunity? As I’ve tried to tell you before, it’s not as though I’m leaving here because I want to leave you. I am leaving because I want to work with the dragons at the Welsh preserve. You know that. And we’ll have visits.” Wilhelmina’s arms embraced Hagrid as she looked up at him to see his reaction.
Minerva felt very uncomfortable now. She wasn’t sure whether this was what it appeared to be; perhaps Wilhelmina and Hagrid were just good friends. Wilhelmina, Minerva knew, had been asked by Dumbledore to give Hagrid informal lessons as a boy and to use him as a sort of assistant to handle some of the larger or wilder creatures. They probably had grown close during that time. She was a mentor of sorts, a friend. But Minerva doubted her own reasoning as she watch Wilhelmina and Hagrid interact.
“I know that. But I’ll miss yeh. Yer me special little Meena-bird. An’ yeh’ll ferget all abou’ me. Yeh’ll find some dragon tamer . . . an’ I’ll have nobody.” It looked as if Hagrid was about to cry again.
“Hagrid, you know we’ve never made promises to each other . . . I . . . I am beginning to regret what we’ve had because now you are so upset. Perhaps I shouldn’t have . . . it may have been a mistake, knowing that I would leave eventually, and you would stay, for me to allow anything to happen between us. And I’ve been so concerned about you these last weeks, I have scarcely been able to consider my own feelings about it. Do you believe that I won’t miss you, too?”
A great tear rolled down Hagrid’s cheek. “But yeh have so much t’ look forward to. An’ me, I got Brutus an’ I got me work . . . oh, Meena, it was always you what made me days an’ nights ’appy ones.” Another tear trickled down his cheek.
“Was this all a mistake then, sweetheart? Would you go back and change it, if you could, and turn me away that first time?”
“No, no, I wouldn’t, yeh know that, me sweet Meena-bird, me sweet, sweet Meena-bird.” Hagrid looked tenderly down into the older witch’s face and caressed it. “Never.”
“Then let’s value what we had and not make a mess of it now. Let’s enjoy what time we have together while I’m still at the school. I am still here, Hagrid. No point in missing me yet.”
Minerva never would have thought the brusque, no-nonsense Care of Magical Creatures teacher could be so tender and so warm, though she had never considered it before, despite having become something of a friend over the last few months. A friend who never knew that Wilhelmina was having some sort of an affair with the assistant groundskeeper, who was also an old friend. While Minerva supposed that discretion was valuable in a closed community such as that at Hogwarts, Minerva wondered whether there was a particular reason for their apparent secrecy about the relationship. When had this begun? Wilhelmina was in her forties; Hagrid was not yet thirty. Had this begun when Hagrid was still a boy? When he should have been under her care? Was that the reason for the secrecy? Hagrid had only been thirteen when he’d been expelled, and Wilhelmina had started teaching the following year. Hagrid had been a big lad, at least seven feet even then, and yet an innocent, younger than his years, Minerva had always thought, despite his size. Had Grubbly-Plank been taking advantage of the half-giant during his formative adolescence? The thought made Minerva want to growl and sink her claws into flesh, but she calmed herself, remembering that she didn’t know the facts. This was all only speculation.
“Do you remember that first time, Hagrid?” Wilhelmina spread her hands upon his chest.
“Yeh know I do. Could never ferget it.” His voice came out roughly, but his expression was misty and tender, and he held her face in one of his hands as his other hand gently massaged the witch’s back. “I was a mite scared . . . afraid I’d hurt yeh.”
Minerva could see Wilhelmina’s broad grin. “Good thing I know a few spells from my work with the beasts.”
Minerva felt like growling again. Was she calling Hagrid a beast?
“Yeh used t’ need yer wand t’ cast it on yerself, remember?”
“Mmmm, and now, all I need is your wand,” the witch said with a naughty look, grasping at the front of Hagrid’s trousers. “I remember coming around back here, looking for you to help me with the Thestrals, and there you were, large as life, shirt and trousers off, standing barefoot on the slate next to the pump, washing yourself down. Oh, I had been watching you before this, so aware of you . . . how gentle yet strong you were . . . and I thought I should turn and leave. You hadn’t seen me, though, and I felt rooted to the spot. I had finally worked up the energy to turn and leave, when I was completely paralysed. You had removed your shorts and were soaping up, and I couldn’t move. I knew you would see me if you turned even a little, but I couldn’t move. And you did turn as you began to rinse yourself under the pump, you turned and saw me.”
Wilhelmina had begun to undo Hagrid’s shirt buttons as she spoke.
“I did. I saw yeh there, face turnin’ all red, an’ I tried t’ cover meself up, but I’d thrown me shorts over t’ bench where me towels and clothes all stood waitin’ fer me.”
Wilhelmina kissed Hagrid’s lower chest again and laid her cheek against him, closing her eyes. “You were beautiful there, Hagrid. So beautiful. Shh, don’t deny it. You do not see what I see when I look at you. I remember trying to apologise, then finally just saying that I would leave and you could get on with your bath, unless you wanted some help rinsing off.”
“An’ I did, but I was afraid t’ say anythin’, afraid I mistook yer meanin’,” he said gruffly.
“But you dropped your hands from in front of you, and I could see growing evidence that you might like some help rinsing off.”
Minerva could see that both Wilhelmina and Hagrid had become flushed, and Wilhelmina’s breath was coming more rapidly.
“Let’s do that again, Hagrid, the way we did the first time.”
“There’s people at the castle now, though . . .”
“No one who will come down here. They’re all busy with their own concerns right now.” Wilhelmina looked up at Hagrid, supplicantly. “Please, sweetheart?”
If Minerva had wished earlier that she weren’t there, she wished it doubly so at that moment. Wilhelmina could only mean one thing. Hopefully, Hagrid would be adamant and bring her into his hut for whatever it was they were going to do. It was too late for Minerva to announce her presence, and she couldn’t leave now, even in her Animagus form – Hagrid would be sure to recognise her even if Wilhelmina didn’t.
Unfortunately, it appeared that Hagrid was easily persuaded, and he began to undress, neatly placing his clothing on the bench. He turned to Wilhelmina. “I don’t have any towels here now.”
Wilhelmina laughed. “I don’t believe we ever used the towels that particular day, Hagrid.”
Minerva tried to keep her eyes closed as Hagrid, wearing only his shorts, walked over to the Charmed pump and started it running. He picked up a bar of soap and began to lather his chest, then he splashed water on it to rinse, followed by ducking his head under the water and dousing his hair and beard. He stood and shook himself like a puppy, some of the water droplets landing on a very unhappy tabby Minerva.
Hagrid removed his shorts, and despite herself, Minerva watched as he first soaped his legs, then began to lather his rather sizable private parts. He then turned and made a show of spotting Wilhelmina. He covered his penis with his hands, Wilhelmina made her offer to help him rinse, and he dropped his hands to his sides. By this point, Hagrid was not yet fully excited, but sufficiently so that Minerva could easily see why he had been afraid of hurting the small witch.
Minerva averted her gaze, but somehow her feline curiosity won out over her human embarrassment and slight distaste, and she found herself watching as Wilhelmina stepped forward to “help him” rinse. As she approached Hagrid, Wilhelmina shed her hat, her robe, her shoes, then bent to roll off her stockings. Dressed only in a chemise that scarcely went past her hips, the witch stood on the slate beside the half-giant, she looking even smaller, and he, even larger. Wilhelmina reached out and took Hagrid’s penis in her hands, using it to urge him forward and bringing it under the water streaming from the pump. She rubbed him, stimulating him as she rinsed the soap from his body, and Minerva blinked at the size of Hagrid’s erect penis. Whatever spell Wilhelmina was using, Minerva wouldn’t have wanted to try to have that in her, but despite herself, she found the tender care Wilhelmina was taking as she rinsed him, not neglecting his legs, to be touching.
Wilhelmina knelt before Hagrid to run her wet hands over his legs, pushing the lather from them, her chemise becoming transparent as it became wetter. Minerva shuddered internally to see Wilhelmina stand, then bend to kiss Hagrid where she had just rinsed him. The kiss became more than a kiss, and Minerva finally closed her eyes. When she reopened them, Wilhelmina was standing and Hagrid was pulling her chemise off of her. He lifted her easily in his arms, holding her against his chest as he brought the small witch’s breasts to his mouth, holding her, kissing her, as she put her legs around his torso. Minerva shut her eyes again and wished for the thousandth time that she had not come down here in her Animagus form, or that she hadn’t come down here at all.
“Yer so beautiful, Meena,” Minerva heard the half-giant declare, “but yeh should go. I want yeh . . . an’ yer beautiful an’ so good t’ touch me as yeh have, but I don’ want t’ hurt yeh.” His voice was hoarse, but gentle.
He held Wilhelmina cradled naked in his arms, her legs still around him. Minerva opened her eyes to see Wilhelmina lean forward and kissed him on the mouth for the first time, her arms threaded around his neck and through his hair. The kiss seemed to never end. When it did, Wilhelmina spoke in a hushed voice.
“I know a spell, for birthing Thestral foals and Unicorns and such. I can use it on myself. You don’t need to worry a bit. I’ll just stretch to fit. Still nice and tight, but not too small.” She caressed Hagrid’s brow. “I’ve been thinking about you for a long time, Hagrid. I tried not to, but I couldn’t help myself. I honestly didn’t plan on ever doing anything about it, although I did think about how . . . well, how it could be done. But it was just a daydream, a fantasy, until I saw you standing there, so huge and strong and gentle. I do want you, Hagrid. But if you don’t, just say the word, and I will leave and never mention this again.”
They really were still reenacting their first time together, Minerva thought. She hoped that it had been over quickly, and would be this time, as well. She closed her eyes again, but opened them to a slit as she heard them moving from the pump. Maybe they were going inside now and she could make her escape.
No such luck, though, as Hagrid carried Wilhelmina over to a cut tree trunk that could serve as a table to an ordinary witch or wizard, but which apparently Hagrid used as a stool. He sat down on it, and Wilhelmina settled into his lap, her legs still around him, her ankles just able to meet and cross behind him. It was clear to Minerva that the Gryffindor teacher was now stimulating herself against Hagrid, and from the expression on Hagrid’s face, he was far from objecting. Minerva closed her eyes, wishing that her feline ears weren’t so keen. She could hear every rub, every sigh, every gasp and moan, and when she heard a particularly sharp cry come from Wilhelmina, her eyes opened reflexively to see Hagrid holding the witch by her thighs, her hands on his shoulders, as he slowly lowered her onto him. Minerva wondered for a moment if the spell were working, but it appeared that the slow descent onto Hagrid’s erection was a part of the reenactment, since Wilhelmina began to speak again in gasps.
“Oh, my god, Hagrid, I never knew how good this could feel!” the witch cried.
“Am I hurtin’ yeh, Meena?” Hagrid asked solicitously, halting her downward progress.
“Oh, no, more, Hagrid! I can take all of you. Just slowly this first time, please!” The witch moaned as Hagrid began to slowly lower her again until he disappeared within her completely.
Minerva blinked. That must be some spell, she thought. There had to have been fifteen inches to be “taken,” as Wilhelmina put it. If she were in her ordinary form, Minerva would have blushed. She shouldn’t even be witnessing this, and here she was watching!
Minerva closed her eyes again, unable to stop her ears as the two completed their union rather noisily, with a lot of slapping of thigh against thigh and moaning and gasping, until finally Wilhelmina cried out, “Oh, Hagrid, I’m coming, I’m coming! Oh, god, Hagrid, I love you, my sweet darling!”
Then Hagrid grunted and gasped, barely whispering, “Meena, Meena!” and ending with a moaning sigh.
Minerva opened one eye. Hagrid’s head was resting on top of Wilhelmina’s, and she leaned into his embrace.
After what seemed hours to Minerva, Hagrid said, “Yeh didn’t say that the first time, Meena. Yeh ain’t never said it afore.”
“I do love you, though, you know, Hagrid. And even after I leave here and we both get on with our lives, I will still love you. You will always hold a very special place in my heart. I am sorry I never told you that before. But you take things so strongly to heart, and I knew I wouldn’t be staying and you wouldn’t be leaving.”
“I’m glad yeh tol’ me, Meena-bird. It makes it easier fer me, knowin’ it’s not so easy fer you. Yeh’ve always known I love yeh, even if I stopped tellin’ yeh after a while. An’ now I know yeh love me, too. It’s better that way.”
“Yes, it is.” Wilhelmina leaned back and looked into Hagrid’s face. “It was a mistake. It was wrong of me not to tell you. I am sorry.”
“It’s okay. I think I knew . . . or I used t’ think I knew. But I began t’ doubt it . . . yer so happy t’ be off fer Wales.” Hagrid’s eyes filled with tears again.
Wilhelmina reached up and wiped his face. “Happy to be off for Wales, Hagrid, not happy to be leaving you behind.”
“Then why can’t I come?” Hagrid’s face was sorrowful.
“We’ve discussed all this before, Hagrid.” Wilhelmina sighed. “But let’s get our clothes and go in now. We can have a nice cup of tea and talk, and then,” the witch grinned, adding, “and then you can feast on your Meena-bird!”
Hagrid laughed and stood, holding onto her. Wilhelmina Summoned her wand, then used it to gather their clothes, which settled between their chests, and Hagrid carried the little witch into his hut.
Minerva let out a huge sigh of relief, then stood and stretched. Well, now she knew what had been bothering Hagrid. She certainly wished she had found out in some other way, though. She hoped never to be privy to such a thing again.
Minerva began to trot back up to the castle. Her eyes narrowed. She would have a word with the current Gryffindor Head of House later, though. She wanted to find out when this had all started, and if it had been when Hagrid was still a boy, she would let her have a piece of her mind, that was for certain. If it had started later . . . well, they both seemed happy enough, the only problem being their impending separation. But Hagrid would get over it eventually. It might be more difficult for him, since it was quite likely that Wilhelmina was the only witch he’d ever been with, and he wasn’t exactly what most witches were looking for in a wizard – whether sexually or for a life-partner. But she’d be at the school after Wilhelmina left; she would make sure to integrate Hagrid into some of the castle activities, more than he had been when Dippet had been Headmaster. Dumbledore would be quite a different sort of Headmaster, and very good for Hogwarts, Minerva was sure.