Ghost of My Former Self

Having gotten sucked into Hagrid’s worst memory, Harry and Vega found themselves standing in the dungeons, just outside the Potions classroom. The two Gryffindors exchanged a glance before entering the classroom and watching as Rubeus Hagrid’s worst memory unfolded in front of them. Neither Harry nor Vega opted to make a noise; Harry was intent on finding out about his friend’s past, and so was Vega. Something dreadful must have happened on this day and affected Hagrid severely. But, since Hagrid never wanted to talk about what happened—even after fifty-three years—it seemed as if Harry and Vega would be the first people to ever learn of the half-giant’s unspeakable past.

Rubeus Hagrid entered his last class of the day, double Potions with Slytherin. It was not a class he looked forward to, not the way he looked forward to Care of Magical Creatures. But, as much as the class annoyed him, Rubeus needed the class in order to take care of animals. From the time he was a young boy, Rubeus always knew that he wanted to take care of magical creatures. His mother left when he was little and his father died a few years ago. All Rubeus had left after his father died were the animals he cared for; no one knew where his mother was. And, to do that—to take care of the animals he loved—Rubeus needed this class.

The problem with this class was a Slytherin fifth year named Isaac York. Isaac was the worst type of bully imaginable; the boy spent four and a half years torturing Rubeus, seeing to it that Rubeus’s years at Hogwarts were a nightmare. And, each succeeding attack seemed to get that much worse. During the sorting, Isaac took an instant dislike to Rubeus and made his life as miserable as he possibly could. Rubeus spent his first year avoiding pranks that Isaac sent his way with help from Peeves, Hogwarts’ resident poltergeist. Isaac got more creative in torturing Rubeus as the years passed and the young Gryffindor expected something terrible today. He dreaded what Isaac York had planned for him today.

As Rubeus slid into his seat, he heard a voice in the back of the room call out. “Hey, ogre! Move out of the way! You’re blocking my view.” Rubeus grunted. Isaac York would be able to rile him up today. Besides, he had been called much worse than ogre over the years.

Professor Slughorn swept into the room and all talking momentarily ceased. Instructions were given on how to brew the Draught of the Living Death and the Slytherin Head of House went to his paperwork. Rubeus immediately went to work, hoping that he could bury himself in work to avoid York’s attempts to humiliate him. Unfortunately, things did not work out exactly as planned. As he was adding in the spider venom—which he conveniently got from Aragog—Rubeus felt his body grow somewhat lighter. It was strange; this never happened to him before. Even stranger still was the fact that he was no longer standing on the ground. He didn’t know how it happened, but it did; somehow he was floating, as if he had wings or something. How did that happened? Rubeus wondered. I know I didn’t do this, not consciously. But, if he did do this, then who did? Who made this happen?

“Hey, everyone! Take a look at Hagrid! It seems he inhaled the fumes from the potion,” a cruel voice pointed out. “It seems he’s turned into a pig as a result of it. Fly little piggy, fly.”

Rubeus was furious; he was livid. This was York’s doing. Somehow he was able to transfigure Rubeus into a pig. It was not clear as to how or why, but Rubeus was determined to find out. He tried calling out to someone, finding that he could not. All that came out was a squeal.

York chuckled. “Aw! Look at the little piggy.”

Suddenly Rubeus felt the pig body he inhabited begin to soar around the room. It’s York again. When he looked around, Rubeus saw what appeared to be a pair of white angel wings. He tried to use them, but it was to no avail. York seemed to be controlling him. And from the way he was careening, it appeared as if he was headed towards the occupant of the seat next to York.

In the seat next to York was a short young woman with curly strawberry blonde hair and electric blue eyes. Beside his worst enemy sat the girl he loved, the girl he had loved since he was thirteen. The fact he was about to dive-bomb the girl he loved would only cause Rubeus pain, and that seemed to be what Isaac was trying to do this time. This time Isaac was intent on ruining Rubeus’s love life. It was truly the worst thing that cause possibly happen.

It was not of his own volition that any of this was done; it was Isaac. As Rubeus injured the girl of his dreams, he hoped that she would forgive him for all that transpired here today.

Vega gasped and covered her mouth at the sight she beheld. She elbowed Harry. “When I spent time wondering might have happened to him. I never expected anything like this. Why would Isaac York ever want to do something like that?” she asked. “Why would anyone?”

Harry shrugged. He was wondering the same thing. What was the reason behind Isaac York’s immense hatred of the half-giant man? “I really couldn’t say, Vega. But, I think we might be able to find out,” Harry noted. “The memory doesn’t seem to be over.” For that, Harry was pleased. If the memory simply ended at that, it would leave many unanswered questions; questions that Vega would want to ask Hagrid about, but get no answers.

“There’s more?” Vega asked.

“It seems so,” Harry replied, pointing.

Rubeus soon felt himself return to his original form, thanks to what appeared to be help from Professor Slughorn. “What is the meaning of this?” Professor Slughorn boomed, silencing the mixture of laughter and screams that echoed throughout the dungeon classroom that contained the Gryffindor and Slytherin students. “Why is one student attacking another?”

“Sir, it appears as if Mr. Hagrid decided it prudent to attack my twin sister. Poor Abigail has been scarred for life,” Isaac explained, lying his way out of trouble. Can I take her up the Hospital Wing?”

“You may,” Professor Slughorn replied. “Mr. Hagrid?”

“Yes, sir?” Rubeus asked.

“See me after class,” the Professor before resuming the lesson.

“His sister?” both Harry and Vega exclaimed.

“Hagrid had a crush on his enemy’s sister?” Harry laughed. “Well, I suppose that would explain why Isaac hated Hagrid so much; he was protective of his sister and already despised Hagrid.” Of course, there was still one question that remained. What was so terrible about this memory that he didn’t want to remember it? The event in question did not seem so bad. In Hagrid’s eyes, it was though. Harry wanted to know why that was. What happened to Hagrid in this world that made him wish for December 23rd, 1943 to be erased from his memory?

“But, why did he want this erased?” Vega wondered.

“That’s what I was thinking,” Harry noted. “Maybe we can find out.”

“That’s right,” Vega realized suddenly. “If the memory was over, we would probably have been transported back to Room of Requirement. But, we’re not. So, what else must be told?”

When class ended, Rubeus stayed back as he was ordered to. Before the professor could utter a single word, Rubeus broke into a rehearsed speech. He had been thinking about this since the transformation and needed to get it off his chest. “Professor Slughorn, sir. I would never have attacked Ms. York if not for what her brother did. He was the one to transfigure me into a pig and ultimately forced me to attack his sister. You must understand that.”

“But, why would Mr. York have his own sister attacked?” Slughorn asked. “Why he do that to his own sister?”

“To torture me,” Rubeus insisted.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hagrid. I simply can’t believe that. Mr. York would never have his own sister attacked merely in order to torture you,” Professor Slughorn replied. “I’m afraid that after the holidays you will have to serve three detentions. You must also lose seventy-five points for your attack on a student. You can go now, Mr. Hagrid. It’s about time for dinner.”

Rubeus nodded and headed up to the Great Hall for dinner, his mind reeling with what just happened. In fact, that was all Rubeus thought about during dinner, especially considering that Abigail had not yet returned from the Hospital Wing. Upon eating dinner, Rubeus made a rush for the Hospital Wing. He had to speak with Abigail, had to tell her how sorry he was for what happened. Rubeus hurried in and went straight for the bed where Abigail was laying. Someone stopped him before he could go by. “Mr. Hagrid, I’m afraid you must leave. Mr. and Ms. York insisted that you not be allowed to see her after what you did.”

“But, Madam,” Rubeus complained.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hagrid. You must leave,” she insisted.

However, Rubeus was not to be deterred. He pushed past the nurse and hurried over to Abigail’s bed. “Abigail, I am so sorry for what happened. It wasn’t even me who did this.”

“And who was it?” Abigail shot back.

“Your brother,” Rubeus said honestly.

“Why would my brother ever do this?” Abigail yelled, gathering her strawberry blonde hair with one hand and pointing to a long scar running down her left cheek. “You were the one to do that and I will never forgive you for it.” She pointed to the door. “Get out! I never want to see you ever again.”

Dejectedly did Rubeus leave the Hospital Wing, trying to get his mind off what happened. But, he couldn’t; the image of the scar on Abigail’s cheek was burned into Rubeus’s mind. There was no way he could ever forget seeing the scar—which might never fade—on the face of the girl he loved.

The two Gryffindors found themselves pulled back into the Room of Requirement. It seemed as if the memory was over. “He never wanted to see the scar that would forever mar the face of the girl he loved; Hagrid never wished to hold the knowledge that he was the one to make the scar appear,” Vega realized. “That’s why he wanted to oblivate himself.”

“It could also explain why he never wanted to talk about it,” Harry noted. “Dumbledore said he was never oblivated; reminiscing about his past will only further cause him grief. Poor Hagrid was forced to live with the knowledge that Isaac York forced him to harm the girl he loved, who also happened to his enemy’s twin sister.” Based on her story, Vega always asked about what happened in Hagrid’s past; it seemed as if Vega’s questioning only caused the half-giant groundskeeper more grief. “Rhapsody, you do realize that your constant questions about his past have upset the man. You have caused him even more pain.”

She nodded. “I had no idea.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

“Abigail York…well, its Abigail Malfoy now,” Vega said. She elaborated further at seeing Harry’s confused look. “Sahara, Abigail Malfoy is Lucius Malfoy’s mother, Draco’s grandmother. I only ever met her twice; I’ve seen that faded scar before. While I was spending time with Draco, his grandmother appeared to speak with Andromeda about spending some time with Draco over the summer. I often wondered what the deal was with the scar, so did Draco actually. She never mentioned it. But, I’m guessing that dear old Isaac informed my cousin of Hagrid’s part in what happened. It must be why he hates Hagrid so much.”

“Yeah. That would explain it,” Harry said. He spied the clock in the corner. “It seems our time here has ended. We need to get to our next classes.” After sitting here and learning of Hagrid’s past, Harry had no desire to leave the Room of Requirement; he wanted to leave more about this dimension.

Vega nodded. “Right. Now, remember; you must meet Draco and myself right back here. Draco is the next person that will show you about your life. Aside from the first animagus transformations, I’m not really sure what Draco has to show you. He only ever told me of his intent to show you that one; the rest you must uncover on your own.” She picked up her things and headed out.

The emerald-eyed teenager sat there a little while longer. He wished to sit there the rest of the day and view memories from his life. Dumbledore only gave them ten days, one of which was already gone. If Harry was supposed to learn everything about his life before Christmas break, his time would be better spent viewing the memories that would enlighten him about his life rather than sitting through pointless classes. The problem with that however, was that only six people knew of Harry’s lack of knowledge of this world; everyone else would think that Harry was skiving off Defense against the Dark Arts for no apparent reason.

Harry grimaced and picked up his things. There was no point in his staying in the Room of Requirement. People would start to suspect and that was not allowed to happen. He couldn’t let anyone else become aware of the fact that he was without knowledge of this world. Already he spent a week in confusion; as much as he wanted it to end, there was no way it could. Things had to continue as they were. A confused Harry Potter emerged from the Room of Requirement and headed off; this journey of discovery would have to resume this evening.