For the past several days, the snow had been coming down in sheets. Early on Sunday morning, the thirteenth of December, any students who happened to feel like abandoning their cosy beds on their day off (assuming such people existed) would have been greeted by a cloudless sky. The entire grounds around the school lay buried beneath a thick blanket of snow. Anyone venturing outside through the back entrance towards the Quidditch pitch would have found the enormous Hagrid clearing the paths with a huge shovel that looked more like the scoop of a bulldozer.
Two dogs were circling around Hagrid. The first was Fang, an enormous grey dog of indeterminate breed, though there was a very good chance a Neapolitan Mastiff had featured somewhere in his ancestry. The second dog, named Blackie, was somewhat smaller, with curly black fur and an equally uncertain pedigree.
Back in autumn, the vicious Professor Snape had marched out of the castle with this very dog bound and floating through the air in front of him. Snape had intended to dump the brute somewhere well beyond the Hogwarts grounds, but Hagrid had taken pity on the dog and adopted him. As the gamekeeper had learned from the Potions professor, some students had played a prank by letting the dog loose inside Hogwarts. Hagrid had been forced to solemnly swear to Professor Snape that he would keep the dog with him and never allow him to stray onto the castle grounds.
Hagrid was absorbed in his work, for he had paths to clear across an enormous area. He worked with the speed of a tractor and no less efficiently. The council services of any town would probably have been delighted to employ a groundskeeper like him. All the efficiency of heavy machinery, without having to pay for a tractor, spare parts, or fuel. Granted, they would have to pay him a bit more so the worker did not starve to death, but even then the savings would have been considerable.
Strong and hardy though the gamekeeper was, he was still a living creature and therefore capable of getting tired. At one point, Hagrid heaved a weary sigh and propped his shovel against a snowdrift. With one enormous hand, he wiped the sweat from his forehead.
With a crunch like a log snapping in two, the giant straightened his broad shoulders. During his work, snow had managed to get onto practically every piece of Hagrid's clothing, coating him from head to toe. He looked like an enormous snowman someone had stuck a beard onto.
Turning his head towards the castle, the gamekeeper froze, mouth hanging open and eyes bulging.
"Wha-a... What's that?"
Hagrid continued staring fixedly at the castle wall. If not for his gigantic height, judging by the size of his eyes one might have suspected there were house-elves somewhere in the gamekeeper's ancestry—so enormously round had they become.
The black dog took an interest in the gamekeeper's reaction. He turned his head towards the castle and likewise froze on the spot as though someone had cast a Freezing Charm on him. There could scarcely have been a more astonished dog anywhere in the world: his lower jaw dropped towards the crusted snow while his eyes practically popped out of their sockets.
"Arroo?!!!"
There were so many emotions jumbled together in that canine exclamation that any human being would have understood that the dog was utterly dumbfounded and bewildered.
The dog could no longer stay on his paws and collapsed onto his backside. He stared unblinkingly at the castle wall.
"Yeah, Blackie..." Hagrid drawled, scratching the back of his head with one enormous hand. "What's goin' on 'ere, then? Who's been messin' about like that?"
The dog tilted his head to the right as though trying to find a better angle. If anything, he seemed even more astonished. And there he remained, sitting with his tongue lolling to one side, eyes bulging like a toad's and mouth hanging half-open. At that moment, one could have sculpted a statue of the dog and entitled it Utter Gobsmackment.
"This..." The gamekeeper thoughtfully tugged at his beard. "Reckon I'd better fetch McGonagall."
Hagrid decided there was no point delaying the summons of higher authority and immediately headed into the castle. When he returned some time later in the company of Professor McGonagall, Blackie was still sitting in exactly the same spot, looking utterly thunderstruck.
The gamekeeper waved one enormous arm so vaguely that its path was impossible to follow.
"There!" he said.
Professor McGonagall immediately noticed the dog. She began examining him closely.
"I suspect someone has used a Confundus Charm on your dog, Hagrid," she said knowledgeably.
"No-o-o," the gamekeeper drawled, this time gesturing more deliberately towards the castle wall with his palm. "That... I don't mean the dog. I mean that."
Minerva McGonagall turned towards the castle. Her eyes flew wide open, and she froze.
"Er-r-r..." A long, droning sound escaped her throat, like a speaker attached to a computer that had just frozen. "What the fu-u... foolishness is this?! And what bloody fu-u... fool did this here?"
Judging by her tone, the Deputy Headmistress had originally intended to express herself rather more succinctly and colourfully, but years of teaching—and the ingrained habit of watching her language around children—had forced her to correct herself.
"Well, er..." Hagrid spread his arms, very nearly clipping the Deputy Headmistress and knocking her flat. "I... dunno. Only just saw it meself, an' came straight ter fetch yeh."
McGonagall tilted her head to one side, just as the dog had done.
"Hmmm..." she drawled. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"
"Who knows what goes through vandals' heads..." Hagrid spread his arms again, with extreme danger to everyone in the immediate vicinity.
McGonagall prudently took a couple of steps back.
"We need to summon the Headmaster!" she declared.
McGonagall drew her wand and gave it a wave.
"Expecto Patronum."
A silvery cat sprang from the tip of her wand. The Deputy Headmistress dictated her message:
"Albus, we have an emergency. We need you outside, on the Quidditch-pitch side of the castle."
(End of Chapter)
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