You Get What You Deserve

“Look at Snape!” I heard Ron hiss at Harry.

Professor Snape, the Potions master, was staring along the staff table at Lupin. It was common knowledge that Snape wanted the Defence Against the Dark Arts job, but even I, who hated Snape, was startled at the expression twisting his thin, sallow face. It was beyond anger; it was loathing. I knew that expression only too well; it was the look Snape wore every time he set eyes on Harry or me.

“As to our second new appointment,” Dumbledore continued, as the lukewarm applause for Lupin died away, “well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid. Who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his game keeping duties.”

Harry, Ron, Hermione and I stared at each other, stunned. Then we joined in with the applause, which was tumultuous at the Gryffindor table in particular. I leant forward to see Hagrid, who was ruby red in the face and staring down at his enormous hands, his wide grin hidden in the tangle of his black beard.

“We should’ve know!” I roared, pounding the table. “Who else would have set us a biting book?”

Harry, Ron, Hermione and I were the last to stop clapping, and as Dumbledore started speaking again, we saw that Hagrid was wiping his eyes on the tablecloth.

“Well, I think that’s everything of importance,” said Dumbledore. “Let the feast begin!”

The golden plates and goblets before us filled suddenly with food and drink. Suddenly ravenous, I helped myself to everything I could reach and began to eat.

It was a delicious feast; the Hall echoed with talk, laughter and the clatter of knives and forks. Ron, Hermione, Harry and I, however, were eager for it to finish so that we could talk to Hagrid. We knew how much being made a teacher would mean to him. Hagrid wasn’t a fully qualified wizard; he had been expelled from Hogwarts in his third year, for a crime he had not committed. It had been Harry, Ron, Hermione and I who had cleared Hagrid’s name last year.

At long last, when the last morsels of cameral tart had melted from the golden platters, Dumbledore gave the word that it was time for us all to go to bed, and we got our chance.

“Congratulations, Hagrid!” Hermione squealed, as we reached the teachers’ table.

“All down ter you four,” said Hagrid, wiping his shining face on his napkin as he looked up at us. “Can’ believe it... great man, Dumbledore... came straight down to me hut after Professor Kettleburn said he’d had enough.. it’s what I always wanted...”

Overcome with emotion, he buried his face in his napkin, and McGonagall shooed us away. We joined the Gryffindors streaming up the marble staircase and, very tired now, along more corridors, up more and more stairs, to the hidden entrance to Gryffindor Tower. A large portrait of a fat lady in a pink dress asked us, “Password?”

“Coming through, coming through!” Percy called from behind the crowd. “The new password’s Fortuna Major!”

“Oh no,” said Neville Longbottom sadly. He always had trouble remembering the passwords.

Through the portrait hole and across the common room, the girls and boys divided towards our separate staircases. I climbed the spiral stairs with no thought in my head except how glad I was to be back. I reached the familiar, circular dormitory with its five four-poster beds and I instantly went to mine, falling onto it.