Behind Giant's Eyes

Can't go on feeling sorry for m'self. There's work to be done. Dark forces afoot. The creatures, they smell it. I smell it too. No time for dilly-dallying with my own self pity.

Yer a big man, Hagrid, they say. Act like one.

I suppose they're right. S'pose there's no use to cry over it. No use feeling so lonely, what with all these animals needing caring for.

But I can't help it. I miss Norbert. I miss the little tyke something fierce. Fang has been nudging about more than usual. I suppose he knows I'm tore up. Dogs notice those things. Much more than people, I'd say. He rests his big slobbery head on my feet while I eat, waiting for handouts with those big happy eyes looking up at me.

Fang isn't pushing me to cheer up. People could learn from Fang. Filch could learn from him. Professor McGonagall seems more cross than usual with me. Even Dumbledore seems like he wished I had more sense.

I don't know why they're so angry. Everybody needs someone to love. I've no kin of my own. Why can't I mother a poor little baby dragon with no one to take care of him?

He'll get too big, Hagrid, they say. I'm big, too. Ya gonna send me to bloody Romania, too? But I don't say this to them. I just think it.

Maybe they're right. Maybe Norbert does belong with other dragons. Where he won't be bigger and stronger than everybody around him. Where he won't have to worry about tripping over or stepping on or hurting without meaning to. Maybe he won't have to learn what it means to be big, and to have people treat you like a monster or a weapon.

I don't want that for Norbert.

Ron Weasley showed me a letter he wrote to his brother, the one who works with the dragons. Take care of that little dragon, he wrote. Norbert is a friend of Hagrid's. Don't let the other dragons pick on him, and give him a treat now or then, okay?

That was nice of him. Ron's a good friend. He didn't have to do that, but he did, and that was mighty good of him.

I didn't mean to, and I shouldn't have, but I read more of the letter than what I was supposed to. I feel terrible about it, but I couldn't help it. Ron was telling a funny story about his mum and a garden gnome getting into it at the end of summer, and I couldn't help but read it. It made me sad.

Maybe Norbert will meet a nice lady dragon when he grows up. Maybe they'll have babies and be happy breathing smoke and tromping about with the other dragon families in Romania. Maybe sending him away was the best thing. Maybe he don't need to be in a place where folks are afraid of him, where he always is out of place.

Maybe I should go to Romania, too. Get a job working with dragons. Compared to a dragon, I'm nothing special.

Nah. Can't be thinking those types of thoughts. Dumbledore did right by me giving me this job, and I'm not gonna let him down just because I'm out of sorts.

There's work to be done round here. Dark forces stirring. I may not be able to use magic, and I may not be smart as all that, but I am big and I am strong and nobody is gonna get past me while I'm still standing. Gotta protect the creatures. Gotta protect the students, and the teachers, too, some of them. McGonagall is the closest thing to a mum I've ever had, and mothering is mothering, even when it's strict. And Madame Hooch sneaks out to fly with me sometimes, even though I'm not supposed to use the motorbike anymore. Who would protect Madame Hooch if things got rough? Who would stand between Professor McG and danger, or little Flitwick or Madame Sprout? They may have magic, but not a one of them has size.

And can't forget Ron and Hermione and young Harry. They're always off into some mischief or another, and I'm the only one they come to talk honest to. If I were gone, who knows what danger would they get into?

No, I have work to do here. No more crying about Norbert. He's in good hands. And when the dung hits the door, he'll be safely in Romania, out of harm's way.

I wish I could say the same about Hogwarts.

C'mon, Fang, I say. There's work to be done. Stop lazing about waiting for scraps.

And he jumps ups and slobbers happily. He don't care how big I am. He just knows we're off for adventure.

People should be more like dogs, I think.