"In Which Fang Makes a Friend or ..." (Fang, Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank, others)
Author: Anonymous
Prompt/Prompt Author: Year 4 or 5. Fang pines for Hagrid, and Wilhelmina ... well, we don't know anything about her, do we? POV can be any -- Fang, Wilhelmina, a third party ... / Tetleythesecond
Title: In Which Fang Makes a Friend or That Dozy Dog Finds Himself Again with a Little Help
Characters: Fang, Wilhemina Grubbly-Plank, Minerva McGonagall, Hagrid, Pomona Sprout Mention of: Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Charlie Weasley, Firenze, Bane, Dolores Umbridge, Griselda Marchbank
Rating: PG
Warnings: Some graphic description of death in introduction
Word Count: 8,145
Summary: Fang is put into Professor Grubbly-Plank’s care while Hagrid is away. A friendship develops between the two and Professor Grubbly-Plank susses out Fang’s true inner character.
Author's Notes: I saw this prompt and was like, ‘This is mine! Mine, I say!’ and I was absolutely thrilled when I was notified I could write for it. I’m an animal lover and adore dogs. I really liked the idea of Fang learning to trust and become friends with Professor Grubbly-Plank. I set the time period within the sixth book from when Hagrid leaves to when he comes back. There are certain events that happened in the book that will be mirrored in this story. I also took the liberty of including certain elements from my prompt author’s own fics and included them in this story as “easter eggs.” I do hope my prompt author enjoys finding them! I’ve often thought about Fang and wondered if he truly was a ‘coward’ as Hagrid claimed and if so, why? And what circumstances? I didn’t buy it for a minute...thus, my intro. Also, Fang might have pushed who he really was deep down inside of himself but with Professor Grubbly-Plank’s intuitive understanding of how animals work, Fang rediscovers that part of himself he’d let go of for so long. Another item of note: Fang’s name given to him by his mother is a tribute to the actor who played Uncle Vernon Dursley. He was, by all accounts, a wonderful, charming, funny man in real life. It just goes to show that one doesn’t really know a person by their public persona...a parallel to Fang in my story, here.
Also, my thanks to A for beta’ing the heck out of this...and to my wonderful amazing friend, T for her awesome Brit picking of my story...and not laughing at my “pants” mistake!
Prologue: The Forbidden Forest
Fang’s earliest memory was of his mother and his littermates. He was the largest of the lot, always the first to latch on and nurse, the first to wobble about on paws too big for his body. He would wrestle with his brothers and sisters and snap and snarl in play anger. He would cuddle up to his mother after nursing, his tummy distended from milk, and drift off to dream land, his paws twitching in his sleep.
His mother would give him a lick or two about his ears every morning, holding him in place with her paw before letting him go. He’d tumble out of the burrow and scrabble up the shallow incline to sniff around the forest floor. Sometimes his brothers would join him, sometimes a sister or two; usually, it was just him, checking out the new smells and marking his territory with pride.
‘Griffith,’ her mother told him, ‘Stay near the burrow. Don’t stray. Don’t go further than the tree on the other side. The forest is a large place, a large place where bad things can happen to small pups.’ He’d nod his head solemnly but he always forgot her warning when he was distracted by such things as butterflies that flitted past. He was as brave as a lion, wasn’t he? He was the one who never whimpered during storms. He could hardly wait to get bigger so he could explore the entire length and breadth of the forest.
Time seemed to pass so slowly. He grew bigger and he was able to jump and walk and run without stumbling once. He still cuddled next to his mother at night and nipped at his littermates if they got too close but he was an independent bloke. He would disobey his mother and explore further and further past the large tree by their burrow. The burrow seemed so small now and he was eager to see what was further beyond the place he called home.
One day, a sunny fine day, he went further than he’d ever gone before. He tracked the scent of what he thought might be other four footed creatures and was immersed in following the trail. It helped that there were markings on the forest floor, imprints that were oddly shaped to his inexperienced eyes. It was exciting and he didn’t give a moment’s thought to how far he’d wandered off and how late in the day it was. This was the finest adventure he’d had yet and he couldn’t wait to tell his littermates about it.
The day progressed. He’d found a clear stream and spent some time drinking from it. It was cold and the water tasted wonderful to him. He drank his fill and continued on, noting that there were more imprints joining the original ones he’d found. Perhaps he would discover new friends once he caught up with whoever was making the tracks. He could roam all day with his new friends and run about the forest without a care in the world. He couldn’t wait to meet them. They’d be so impressed by his bravery. He was the bravest pup in the world; his mother told him so.
The sky began to darken. He glanced up and realised that it was almost nightfall. He took one more sniff at the tracks in front of him and sighed to himself. He’d better get back to the burrow, to his home. His mother would be upset with him and was probably worried. He’d never been away this long. His tummy rumbled. He wanted to nestle next to her, push aside his littermates and claim his usual spot. He’d nurse until he was full to bursting as always and fall asleep against her warmth.
He headed back, retracing his steps with care. He hadn’t realised how far he’d actually gone this time and his paws were beginning to ache from the unusual amount of time he’d spent trotting along the forest floor. He stopped at the stream again to refresh himself and quell the rumble in his tummy; he was so hungry. He continued onward, following his own scent now.
As he got closer to home, he could smell something else on the air; something that raised the hairs of his neck and had him curling his lips back over his teeth. His steps slowed, became cautious. He pretended he was stalking butterflies; he made no sound as he neared his home. He could smell a coppery scent that had a whine raising in his throat. He could smell distress and fear and pain.
Outside of the burrow, he could see his littermates strewn over the ground. They weren’t moving. The coppery scent was all over them and something else, something that had him forcing a howl back down his throat. He stopped, quivering, still hidden. He looked around, stretched his hearing as far as he could. He could hear nothing except the wind blowing through the tree next to the burrow. Whatever had happened here was done now. Whatever came here had left.
He crept forward, his bravery trickling out of him as the blood from his littermates trickled out of their bodies. None responded to his frantic nosing or pawing. He had turned over his favourite littermate, the brother who was next biggest in size, and whimpered when his brother’s head lolled back, revealing a throat torn open.
A sound from the burrow had him frozen in fear. He was afraid to move, afraid to leave. He was brave, wasn’t he? He was brave, his mother said so. He crept forward, each step forward agony. He looked down into the burrow and the first small howl escaped from his throat.
His mother laid there, her body broken, the blood scent filling the small burrow where he’d spent so much time feeling safe and loved. She raised her head when he scrabbled down, trying to be careful of her body. She whimpered when he accidentally jostled her and he whimpered back, feeling helpless as the day he first opened his eyes.
‘My Griffith...I was so angry when you were gone for so long...I didn’t know where you went and I’d warned you to not go beyond the tree...’ she breathed out, her voice rasping with effort.
‘Mum...don’t talk...don’t...’ he licked the blood from her mouth, wincing at the taste but wanting to comfort her the best he could.
‘It’s too late, my son...I want you to know I’m glad you went...I’m glad you were so brave and adventured far away...you were gone when it came here...gone when it killed your littermates and...’ she paused, her body racked in pain.
‘Mum...mum...don’t leave me. Don’t leave me alone,’ he cried, his eyes filling with tears, his tongue working frantically to stop the bleeding.
‘Griffith...my brave son...it’ll be all right. You’ll be fine...shhhh...just...know I love you. I’m not angry anymore. I’m so proud of you...I love you,’ she whispered and shuddered and no matter how he prodded at her, how he whimpered her name, she no longer responded to him.
He nuzzled at her one last time, ignoring the scent of blood, breathing in the scent of her, and staggered out of the burrow, his grief making him reckless. He laid amongst his littermates, no longer caring if whatever it was that killed them came back to finish what it’d started. His mother was dead. His littermates were dead. He, the bravest one of all, was the only one left alive. Bravery. What good did it do him? What good did it do his mother and his littermates? Nothing. Not one thing except leave him alone in the world. He didn’t need to be brave. He didn’t need to be adventurous. What he needed was dead and he was left all alone. Never again. He was done.
*****
He heard the sound of...something...come near. He didn’t move, just opened his eyes up a little. He was so dizzy from lack of food and from grief and he almost couldn’t believe his eyes. He saw what looked to be four hooved creatures and something else...centaurs, he remembered. His mother told him centaurs lived in the woods and while he should stay out of their way, they wouldn’t hurt him.
The one centaur looked kind. He had blond hair and bright blue eyes. He leaned down to gently touch the bodies of Griffith’s siblings.
The other centaur snorted impatiently. He had a darker coat and he didn’t seem to care about the bodies of Griffith’s siblings. Griffith didn’t like him at all.
‘Peace, Bane...the little ones are dead...’ said the kind centaur.
The other centaur had walked over to the burrow and peered in. ‘Mother’s dead as well. That must have been the same creature that murdered two of our own before we caught up to it.’
There was dark satisfaction in the other centaur’s voice and Griffith was similarly darkly pleased. So the creature that had killed his family had met its own end at the hand of these centaurs? Good. That pleased him as well.
The kind centaur turned Griffith over gently and he whimpered, softly. It wasn’t a loud sound but the centaur’s ears twitched and he picked Griffith up and examined him closely. ‘This one is still alive, Bane! I wonder how he managed to survive. There isn’t a mark on him.’
‘He must have been a bloody coward. Must have run away when the creature was ravaging his siblings,’ said Bane dismissively.
‘No...that creature would have found him, if he’d been anywhere near this place. He must have been wandering. This might be the same one who left those footprints near the pathway down the way,’ mused the centaur.
‘So what if it is? And what are we going to do with it, Firenze? We can’t raise it and I refuse to take care of it. Better that I slit its throat and let it join its siblings,’ said Bane.
‘No. He’s a brave little one, wandering so far off...he’s not going to be hurt for not being here when his family was slaughtered. I don’t think he believes he was fortunate at all, once he came back and found this.’ Firenze gently stroked Griffith’s back and ears. ‘I am going to take him to someone who can take care of him and will raise him well.’
Bane snorted. ‘Again, you offer yourself as a common pack mule. And who will take care of this unfortunate, then?’
Firenze didn’t respond to Bane’s taunts. He turned away with Griffith cradled gently in his arms. ‘Come, little one. I know just the person who will take good care of you.’
Home of the Keeper of the Keys, Game and Grounds, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
‘Fang! Fang! Where are yeh, yeh dozy dog! I’ve got to be packin my things here an’ I don’t have all day teh wait for yeh,’ called Hagrid. He muttered some more to himself as he moved about his hut, filling a large rucksack with various items.
Fang trotted back into the hut from outside, where he’d been curled up in the sun. He knew the bushy haired tall one was leaving because the rucksack was out and the night before, the old, crooked nosed one had visited the hut. Fang liked him; the old one didn’t mind when Fang drooled on him and brought lemon drops that he slipped to Fang when the bushy haired tall one, Hagrid, wasn’t looking. Fang was grateful for the small tart treats; he could only stand so much of Hagrid’s cooking.
‘There yeh are! Dumbledore came last nigh’ teh remind me of the job I’m goin’ teh do. It’s important an’ dangerous but if we’re gonna win th’ war, then I’m goin’ teh do my part. Olympe is goin’ teh be here soon an’ I’m almost done wi’ th’ packing. Now Fang, yeh can’t come wi’ me. It’s too dangerous an’ I’ll be gone for a long time. I don’t know when I’ll be back. So yeh’ll stay here and Professor Grubbly-Plank is gon’ teh take care of yeh. She’s a good un’ an’ yeh’ll be safe an’ sound wi’ her. Jus'...be good for her, yeh hear? Don’t cause any trouble. An’ keep an eye out for Harry an’ ‘Ermione an’ Ron. Those three get into more trouble than th’ Weasley twins an’ that’s sayin’ somethin’.’
Hagrid thumped Fang’s side with clumsy affection. Fang endured it, barely noticing how his ribs creaked with every tap of Hagrid’s large hand. Hagrid never knew his own strength; it was good that Fang wasn’t a small animal.
Fang leaned into Hagrid’s rough, affectionate caress. He was very fond of the boy with messy hair, the girl with hair that tumbled down wildly, a mass of curls down her slight frame. He also had affection for the youngest red-haired boy child in the gang of red-haired children he’d gotten to know over the years. Each child had his or her own traits and this youngest boy had moments of strategic insightfulness coupled with unsurety and insecurity.
Fang wasn’t sure he was exactly up to the task for keeping an eye on these three but he was game to try. Well, as much as he was able to, anyway. He couldn’t help it if they kept getting into trouble in places such as the Forest that was His Home and within the Castle Itself.
Hagrid slung his sack over his shoulder and patted Fang’s head one more time. ‘Yeh be good, now, for Professor Grubbly-Plank, yeh hear? I’ll be back when I can.’
Fang leaned against the door once it was closed behind him and let out a mournful howl. He wasn’t sure about anyone else taking care of him, living in Hagrid’s hut. What would this professor know of unicorns and bowtruckles and large boarhounds? Fang let out one last whimper and then went to his bed and curled about himself.
He would just have to see about this person Hagrid spoke so highly of. In the meantime, he’d take a nap.
*****
It was night time and no one had come at all. Fang was hungry and thirsty and not sure what was going to happen to him. He’d normally have had dinner by now and a ramble with Hagrid out in the Forest and then he’d settle down by the fire and listen to Hagrid talk to some creature that needed mending.
There was a slight noise and the door swung open to reveal a woman with short cropped blonde hair and a generous chin. She looked around Hagrid’s hut until she saw Fang. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry! I was catching up at the castle with Minerva and Pomona when I remembered I needed to come and take care of you.’
She entered the hut with a knapsack that had enticing smells emanating from it. ‘I know Hagrid feeds you something different but I thought just this once, I could feed you a little something extra. I asked the house elves to put together something for you and they went a little overboard, I’m afraid. There’s enough for two of you.’
As she talked, she moved around the hut and took Fang’s bowl from the side cupboard. She checked his water bowl, frowned, and cast aguamenti on it. Fresh clean water filled in the bowl.
Fang went to his water bowl, giving her a wide berth, cautious in his step and demeanour. She kept her distance, respecting his body language, and opened up the bag to pull out a half a ham and some new potatoes. Fang’s senses went into delirium at the scent and sight of the food.
She put the ham into his bowl and set the new potatoes beside it. She carefully, slowly, put the bowl on the floor close to him and stepped slowly back, giving him plenty of space.
Fang glanced up at her, measured the distance between them, and felt safe enough to begin to eat. He started slowly but as he made his way through the ham and potatoes, he ate quickly, feeling his stomach filling up with each bite.
After a while, he slowed down and ate his last few morsels with pleasure. He took a long drink from his water bowl and sighed with happiness. He walked over to the door and looked over his shoulder at the witch who had sat at Hagrid’s table, keeping her distance and letting Fang get used to her.
‘Would you like to go for a walk, then?’ she asked him.
Fang considered her for a moment, taking in her kind face, and waved his tail once with a woof for emphasis.
‘Alright, then, let’s see if I can find any bowtruckles for tomorrow’s lesson,’ she said to Fang. ‘Perhaps you know of where some can be found.’
Fang’s ears perked up. He knew the Forest as well as Hagrid did. He’d walked over most of it with Hagrid, shying away from his old burrow. Hagrid figured he was scared of certain areas of the woods; Fang didn’t know how to tell him any different and it didn’t matter. Hagrid thought he was a big coward. Fang knew better. If he chose to revert to his puppyish ways, he could lose Hagrid, too. He wouldn’t risk that for all the world. He’d rather be called a coward the rest of his life.
Fang stepped to the side as Professor Grubbly-Plank got up and walked over to where he was. She briefly set her hand on his head and rubbed his ears; Fang’s eyes rolled back in his head with pleasure. Then, she opened the door. ‘Let’s go see what we can find, Fang,’ she told him with a smile.
Fang bounded out and looked back at her. He missed Hagrid still, immensely. But he wasn’t afraid of her or her intentions, anymore.
*****
Time passed by. Fang still missed Hagrid. He wondered where he was and what he was doing. He’d heard word of “giants” and “Voldemort” and knew that something was afoot. He found himself spending more time with Professor Grubbly-Plank, though. She had indeed found some bowtruckles and wood lice that Bowtruckles snacked on that first night. She pointed out various plants on their walk that she’d used to bind animal’s wounds with and to help heal them and Fang realized she knew quite a lot about animal husbandry.
Sometimes, Minerva (Fang knew this was Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts but he called her Minerva in his head because that was much easier) would come walking down the path to the hut and she and Professor Grubbly-Plank (Wilhemina was her name but Fang referred to her as Professor Grubbly-Plank, mostly) would sit and have tea. Sometimes, they’d hold hands and their voices would lower. Fang always averted his eyes as he didn’t want them to think he was staring. The scent of tobacco from Wilhemina's pipe and the sharp scent of Firewhiskey were the smells Fang associated with a visit from the Deputy Headmistress. That and the Scottish shortbread biscuits she brought along to sneak to Fang from time to time.
Other times, Fang would hang out in the greenhouse with Professor Grubbly-Plank and Pomona (Professor Sprout to the students) and the two of them would talk about that ‘dreadful awful Umbridge woman’ and Pomona would spread dragon dung over the exotic plants as she vented. Professor Grubbly-Plank would help haul the heavy bags of fertilizer around and she’d accept the snippets of fresh herbs Pomona would give her for dinner.
Every now and then, an owl would come soaring to perch on the window and Professor Grubbly-Plank would get a message that had her muttering about ‘dinner party’ and ‘Marchbanks’ and ‘cogs and wheels.’ She’d apologize to Fang profusely and would get dressed in her finest Witch’s robes and be gone for the evening. Fang was always a little more lonely when she’d go and he’d miss Hagrid even more during those times.
One day, Professor Grubbly-Plank came into the hut with an owl that Fang recognized. The snowy white bird lay still in her arms. Fang knew this was the boy with the messy hair’s bird. No one had an owl like his in the school. Fang could smell blood on her and he growled low in his throat with indignation and worry.
‘I think someone has done a mischief to this poor owl,’ murmured Professor Grubbly-Plank to him as she set Hedwig down gently and cleared a space on the table Hagrid and now she used to examine smaller creatures. ‘Let’s take a look at that...yes...yes, I see...all right, Hedwig...this isn’t going to feel good for a moment and then it will feel a lot better,’ crooned Professor Grubbly-Plank as she pulled on a pair of dragon hide gloves and gently held Hedwig down to clean out the wound and then apply medicine to it.
Hedwig didn’t like it at all and hooted and tried to nip Professor Grubbly-Plank who didn’t take it personally at all. She merely shifted her hands so Hedwig couldn’t get at her and quickly put a salve on Hedwig’s wing.
‘There. Now, let’s get you set up in a box and you can take your time and mend. You should be ok in a while...just need you to stay still until that’s healed,’ Professor Grubbly-Plank told Hedwig.
Hedwig hooted and clicked her beak a couple of times and then nodded her head at an amused Professor Grubbly-Plank. ‘Indeed? Well, a couple of mice can be had. Fang and I have to do our nightly stroll. We’ll see what we can do.’
Professor Grubbly-Plank got a box ready with soft fabric in it and gently set Hedwig into it. Hedwig settled down and hooted softly. She looked pleased.
That night, Professor Grubbly-Plank was more talkative than usual. Fang figured it was doctoring Hedwig that might have loosened her tongue. He listened to her talk, keeping an eye out for mice that rustled in the grass so he could alert her.
‘I wasn’t the smartest witch in my class. No, I’ll leave that distinction to the likes of Minerva back then and young Hermione, now. But the things that I learned in the greenhouse and the kinship I felt with the creatures I studied in the Care of Magical Creatures class...it helped decide my path in life. I’m a lot like Hagrid in that I think all creatures are fascinating, even the big dangerous ones and the not so big dangerous ones. I don’t have the same liking for dragons that Hagrid does but I do happen to like sphinxes, believe it or not. I was sad I missed seeing that sphinx they had in the Goblet of Fire tournament but not sad to miss what came after.’
Professor Grubbly-Plank took a breath and sighed. ‘I remember when Voldemort rose to power the first time around. Yes, I can say his name. I refuse to call him by that bloody moniker. I’d lost some fine friends due to his schemes and dreams of pure blood supremacy. Ridiculous! Look at young Hermione...her a muggle born and the smartest witch of her age. Look at what she can do and look at poor Neville Longbottom who can hardly make the simplest of potions. He comes from the purest blooded wizard family in all of Britain. Blood doesn’t tell all by itself. It’s also talent and hard work and determination...it’s something that can’t be distilled or separated like that. Now, with Voldemort back and the Ministry denying it, he has more scope to operate within, to raise his network of Death Eaters again. It’s ridiculous!’
Fang laid back his ears and growled in agreement.
Professor Grubbly-Plank laughed. ‘I know you miss Hagrid. He’s doing something for Dumbledore and I know he has a better chance than any of us, due to who he is. I hope he succeeds. It would also help Hagrid as well. It’s hard being an outsider, Fang. I’ve been on the outside most of my life. I was expected to settle down and marry a fine wizard and raise children who would go to Hogwarts as they got older. That wasn’t for me, though. I fancied a fine witch instead and if I could, I would have married her and lived my life the way I wanted to. Instead, I married a friend to help him out during Voldemort’s first reign. He was a half blood and by marrying me and joining our names together, he’d have a little protection. He has gone into hiding this time around, though. Fled to America to live. I don’t blame him, not with how the Ministry is handling things. It’s going to get worse before it gets better. There will be murders of muggles left and right before we can put Voldemort down for good. He’s like a rabid animal, Fang. There’s no saving him.’
They walked some more in silence and she captured two mice that would do for Hedwig. The moon shone bright in the woods and Professor Grubbly-Plank looked thoughtfully down at the large boarhound.
‘Hagrid says you’re a coward but I don’t think so. You would stay at the hut and not want to walk in the Forest at night. I think there’s a reason why you stay so close to my side. Whatever it is, Fang, I know that if the time ever came and you needed to protect Hagrid or myself or the children at Hogwarts, you’d show everyone what you are capable of.’
Fang glanced up at her and curled the corners of his lips up into a smug doggy smile.
Professor Grubbly-Plank laughed again, putting her hand down to rub Fang’s ears. ‘It’ll be our little secret. I’ve another get together at Griselda’s home in a couple of days. There’s been murmurs of a secret army that Fudge is afraid of and then young Mr Potter is up to his neck in trouble. That Umbridge woman...she’d better watch her step. She’s running amok and Pomona is just a few steps away from putting some herbs in her tea.’
Fang trotted at Professor Grubbly-Plank’s side as she headed back to the hut with the two mice in a small cage in her hands. He watched as she fed Hedwig the mice and then curled up in his basket after taking a drink of water. His eyes drooped halfway closed and he watched as Professor Grubbly-Plank moved around the hut with the ease of a person comfortable with her surroundings.
‘Minerva is going to visit me tomorrow night. That’ll be nice. I’ve missed her. I missed spending time with her when she took on the position of Deputy Headmistress here, Fang. I’ve loved her ever since we were students here at Hogwarts. It’s been a rare treat seeing her every day. I don’t know what we’ll do once Hagrid comes back and I’m off to wherever I can work. It’ll be some distance away seeing as my skills are best used in the country and I can set up shop somewhere. But it won’t be near here. It won’t be near Minerva.’
Professor Grubbly-Plank changed into her sleeping gown and got into the large bed that Hagrid had thoughtfully prepared for her. He’d changed the sheets and had tucked fresh bedding into the ticking before he left. Fang could still smell the scent of lavender that Hagrid had mixed in with the newly gathered hay.
‘Ah, well. I’ll deal with that when the day comes, Fang. Good night. Good night, Hedwig. I’ll see you both in the morning.’
There was silence after a little while and Fang laid there, listening to her breathe and to Hedwig rustle her one good wing every now and then. He fell asleep shortly after.
*****
A few days later, Hedwig was doing just fine. She could spread her wings without flinching and her feathers were back in proper place. Professor Grubbly-Plank brought her up to the castle so the boy with the messy hair could see his owl was in fine health.
Fang laid outside the hut, the autumn air cool and ruffling the fur on his body. He wondered where Hagrid was and if he was safe and what he was doing. He wished he knew how much longer it would be before Hagrid would come striding through the clearing, calling Fang’s name and thumping his side with his large hand in greeting.
Fang sighed. Professor Grumbly-Plank was alright but she wasn’t Hagrid. Fang enjoyed her company but he missed hearing Hagrid mutter to himself as he tended to the various chores a games keeper at a large castle would need to do. Fang looked at the pumpkins in the garden, sadly; Hagrid used magic on the sly to make the pumpkins grow to a remarkable size. This year, the pumpkins weren’t very large at all. There was no pink umbrella disguising a snapped wand being waved about unobtrusively and no giant pumpkins crowding their space in the garden.
Fang’s mind went from contemplating pumpkins to wondering if Minerva was going to visit again tonight. The Deputy Headmistress usually came by every three to four days. She hadn’t been by in three days so Fang figured it was past time. He hoped she’d bring some of those brilliant shortbread biscuits; his mouth watered at the thought of it.
Sure enough, Minerva knocked on the door at half past nine. Professor Grubbly-Plank opened the door and ushered her inside, setting her outer cloak onto a peg by the door. Minerva sat down in the rocking chair by the fire and reached into her pocket for a tin. ‘Here, Fang, I’ve brought you something,’ she said and Fang wagged his tail as he smelled the rich buttery tang of biscuits within the brightly coloured tin.
He gently took one biscuit from her hand and laid at her feet, gnawing happily.
‘So...what news from our friends?’ asked Professor Grubbly-Plank as she handed Minerva a cup of tea and set the Firewhiskey bottle alongside it on the table.
Minerva thanked her and poured a generous dram into the cup and said, ‘We haven’t made a whole lot of headway within the Ministry. Lucius Malfoy is getting cosier and cosier with Fudge. Griselda has decided she wants to see for herself what’s going on here at Hogwarts. I do believe she’s going to come this spring to test some of our O.W.L. students.’
Professor Grubbly-Plank groaned in amusement and horror. ‘Does Albus know of this? The man might be one of the wiliest wizards of our time but he is no match against Griselda.’
‘He knows. He simply popped a lemon drop into his mouth and didn’t say a word. I’m choosing to interpret that the sour expression was from the candy and not the news he received from the owl about her intentions,’ said Minerva, dryly, her eyes twinkling with suppressed humour.
‘Well, she’ll get an eyeful, then. Umbridge is no match for her. It’s a pity I won’t be around to see that,’ said Professor Grubbly-Plank, taking the bull by the horns.
‘Whatever do you mean?’ asked Minerva, setting the cup of tea down with alarming alacrity. The tea sloshed over the side in her haste and dripped gently down the side of the table.
Professor Grubbly-Plank got a towel and mopped up the tea. She folded the towel and set it on the table before turning to Minerva. ‘I won’t be here the whole year, Minerva. Hagrid will be back, eventually. Hopefully with good news. We need all we can get right now. And I’ll have to see which wizarding community will want my services.’
‘I see,’ said Minerva. Fang looked at her and pushed his head under her hand. She looked sad and tired all of a sudden. She pet Fang absentmindedly, her agile fingers making furrows through his short hair.
There was silence for a few minutes as she pet Fang and the fire crackled in the fireplace. Professor Grubbly-Plank took a fortifying sip of tea with a generous dash of Firewhiskey added to it.
‘It’s been good to have you here, Wilhemina,’ said Minerva, quietly. ‘It’s been a luxury to be able to see you every few days...to talk to you every day in the Great Hall over dinner...to see you teach the students without hearing about some minor or major catastrophe with one of the creatures.’
They both chuckled, knowing Hagrid’s liking for showing his classes the more dangerous creatures in the Forest.
‘I’d like you to stay if you could...stay nearby...’ said Minerva, bluntly. ‘It’s preferable to exchanging letters delivered by owls and seeing you only during school hols and summer break...this time has me realizing that I enjoy your company and being with you without distance keeping us apart,’ said Minerva.
Fang looked up to see tears in Professor Grubbly-Plank’s eyes. He lurched up and walked over to her side, leaning against her, his head resting on her lap. She chuckled weakly, rubbing his ears the way she knew he liked. They both ignored the drool that was making the fabric around her knees damp.
‘Minerva, if time had been more kind to us...if this war...if Voldemort...if, if, if...you’re right, this has been a luxury. I knew it wouldn’t last and I told myself I wouldn’t ask for more. I couldn’t ask for more. I respect your position here as Deputy Headmistress, as Head of Gryffindor House, and as Dumbledore’s right hand. I’d do nothing to endanger it nor make you feel as though you were torn in two. Your duty, your discipline towards Hogwarts and all it entails and your relationship with me and all it entails...I’d never make you choose. Perhaps, after the war is done and Voldemort is defeated...perhaps after you retire...we can revisit this...we can decide what we want to do and where we want to live. Until then...’ Professor Grubbly-Plank shook her head in gracious defeat. ‘I’ll need to go where I will be hired. I don’t want our relationship to end...do you, Minerva?’ she asked, keeping her eyes steady on Minerva’s.
Minerva didn’t say a word but laced her fingers with Professor Grubbly-Plank’s and raised their joined hands, brushing her lips over their knuckles with emphasis. She kept their hands together as she drew Professor Grubbly-Plank in for a kiss.
Fang decided to find the embers immensely fascinating at that moment and curled up in his bed and faked sleep when Professor Grubbly-Plank said, ‘Stay’ in a whisper that barely reached his ears and he saw Minerva nod her head.
*****
The days passed. Fang now had a daily routine with Professor Grubbly-Plank that he admitted was rather nice. He woke up, ate a nice hearty breakfast, and went outside with her to relieve himself and walk a bit to stretch his legs. After that, he followed her around as she did her duties. She fed the Thestrals, kept an eye on the flora and fauna around the Forest, and taught the Care of Magical Creatures class. When the day was done, she’d make him something at the hut before walking up to the Castle to eat with the staff. After dinner, she’d come back and sometimes they’d visit Professor Sprout in the greenhouse, sometimes they’d go ramble in the Forest. Every three to four days, Minerva would come by and would stay the night.
Fang wondered if Hagrid would ever come back. He worried that perhaps something had happened to him; perhaps he was badly wounded in his journeys or perhaps he was dead. Every time an owl came with a message, Fang would quiver with anxiety. Professor Grubbly-Plank noticed, of course she did, and she said to Fang, ‘If something happens to Hagrid, you’ll be the first to know. I know you like me and we get along but I’m not Hagrid. I want you to know, though, that you wouldn’t be abandoned if something did happen to him. I’d take you with me, if that’d be all right.’
Fang studied her for a moment, taking in her short cropped blonde hair, her steady gaze, her broad chin that was tilted upwards in reassurance and he put his head on her lap, the drool dripping onto her robe.
She rubbed his ears, gently. ‘Good, then. We have an understanding.’
*****
It was in the evening when Fang heard the noise of familiar footsteps coming up the path. Professor Grubbly-Plank listened for a moment and then she smiled at Fang who whined in excitement.
‘Well, go see, then,’ she teased him, opening the door so Fang could bound outside.
‘Fang! There yeh are, yeh daft dog! Have yeh been good while I was gone? Have yeh?’ asked Hagrid as he easily lifted Fang up against his chest. He laughed when Fang licked his face and whined with happiness.
Fang pushed against Hagrid’s chest and Hagrid released him so Fang could drop on all fours to the ground and jump around him, his tail waving back and forth.
‘Hagrid! What in the world happened to you?’ gasped Professor Grubbly-Plank.
Fang looked at Hagrid instinctively and then smelled the blood on him at the same time. He’d been so excited to see Hagrid that he hadn’t smelled him properly or taken a good look at him. Hagrid looked awful; he had a black eye that was developing into a spectacular shiner and cuts and bruises all over his skin. His shirt was torn and so were his trousers. But he had a sublime smile on his face and he waved his hands at Professor Grubbly-Plank unconcernedly.
‘Jus’ some scratches, Professor Grubbly-Plank. I’ll doctor myself righ’ up, don’t yeh worry abou’ it. I’m fine, jus’ fine,’ said Hagrid with his usual bluster.
Professor Grubbly-Plank gave him a dubious look but took him at his word. She went back into Hagrid’s hut and after a few moments, came back out with a trunk. Fang remembered she had brought it into the hut after her first night’s stay.
‘Fang was fine. He was a good companion and guarded me and kept me safe. Such a brave dog,’ praised Professor Grubbly-Plank, rubbing Fang’s ears with practiced ease. Fang leaned against her and gave her a doggy smile.
‘Are yeh talkin’ about th’ same dog I know? This coward?’ teased Hagrid with a wide smile.
Professor Grubbly-Plank didn’t smile back. She shook her head and frowned a little at Hagrid. Fang had seen students pale at that expression. ‘He’s no coward, Hagrid. He has his reasons for staying so close to you as he does but he’s not a coward. You never know. He might defend you when you least expect it.’
She bent down and hugged Fang. ‘Thank you, Fang. I’ll miss you,’ she said to him. Fang had seen a flash of something pass over her face when Hagrid first appeared; he realized that there was a part of her who would have loved to have taken care of him for the rest of his life. The thought that followed was that he wouldn’t have minded it at all. He would have missed Hagrid the rest of his life, of course. But he’d grown attached to Professor Grubbly-Plank and knew he would’ve lived a full happy life with her.
Fang rested his head against her shoulder and breathed in her scent; tobacco and herbs from the various plants she used during the day. He’d miss her, too.
‘I’ll see you around, Hagrid. I’m to go up to the castle?’ she asked, straightening up with one final pat to Fang’s head.
‘Yeah. Dumbledore would like to see yeh. He can tell yeh what happened. I better get somethin’ on this eye,’ said Hagrid.
‘Thank you. Bye, Hagrid. Bye, Fang,’ said Professor Grubbly-Plank. She flicked her wand, said, ‘Locomotor,’ and pointed it at her trunk. It rose immediately into the air and she directed it along ahead of her as she walked up to the castle.
Fang watched as she went up to the castle and then the door opened and she went inside. A square of light when the door opened against the dark, her shadow against it, and then the light and shadow disappeared as the door closed.
‘Let’s go inside, yeah, Fang? It’s good teh be home,’ said Hagrid, thoughtfully, his large hand patting Fang’s head.
Fang followed Hagrid into the hut. His life was back to normal again and as he watched Hagrid move about the hut with weary familiarity, he sighed. He was glad Hagrid was home, was glad that he was safe and sound. He’d missed him for quite a long time. But he was grateful for the care he’d received from Professor Grubbly-Plank as well. And he remembered her last words. She knew he was brave, deep down inside. She found the Griffith that still lived within him. Somehow, she knew what his mother said. He was the bravest pup, his mother and now Professor Grubbly-Plank said so. It must be true.
Fang settled into his basket, groaning with pleasure as his body relaxed. He resolved that he’d live up to what Professor Grubbly-Plank told Hagrid about him. He remembered being that little pup in the Forest, exploring and going farther than any of his brothers and sisters. He remembered being Griffith and for the first time, he was at peace with his past. He was brave and if anyone threatened Hagrid (and here he thought of a toad like woman who wore all pink and made his lip curl up in disgust and suspicion), then that person would find out exactly what Fang was really made of deep down inside. He’d show Hagrid how much of a coward he really wasn’t and make Professor Grubbly-Plank proud of him.
As Fang fell asleep, he hoped he’d be able to see her one last time before she left the school. He wasn’t too upset, though. If he wasn’t able to say goodbye to her this time, it would be OK. He thought of Minerva McGonagall and the talk she had with Professor Grubbly-Plank. He had a feeling he’d see Professor Grubbly-Plank again.
Epilogue: Somewhere in Scotland
Fang took his time going up the mountain path. Hagrid had not told him where they were going, only that it was time. Hagrid had gotten noticeably older in the past year. He’d retired as Keeper of the Keys Game and Ground for Hogwarts the year prior, citing stiff limbs and being up in his years as reasons for needing to pass the position onto a younger fellow. Charlie Weasley was delighted to accept the post as he’d needed a job that would let him stay closer to his family. He’d decided he needed to come home from Romania after Arthur Weasley suffered a severe stroke and needed full time care. Molly was able to hire someone but Charlie wanted to be close by to check in on a regular basis.
Hagrid had packed his old rucksack up and shaken Charlie’s hand, then he whistled to Fang and hiked into Hogsmeade where there was a bus waiting. Hagrid and Fang got onto the bus and they rumbled out of the town.
Now, they were hiking up a path after being dropped off at the beginning of it by the bus. Hagrid seemed to know where they were going. He was walking on ahead, whistling happily. Fang followed, feeling an ache in his own joints. He, too, was getting old and he couldn’t bound about like he used to.
After a fifteen minute hike, the path flattened out and Fang could see a house in front of them. There was a large hut to the left of it and a barn behind it. Crisp red gingham curtains fluttered from the windows and the long porch in the front looked inviting with an assortment of rocking chairs on it.
Hagrid knocked on the front door and nodded down at Fang. ‘They’re expectin’ us. It won’t be long,’ he reassured him.
The door swung open and Fang found himself looking up at Professor Grubbly-Plank. His tail wagged rapidly back and forth with happiness and he could feel his mouth curving up into the biggest grin he could manage. He woofed happily and found he still could bound around a little bit after all.
Professor Grubbly-Plank laughed delightedly. ‘I’m happy to see you, too, Fang,’ she said. She patted Hagrid’s arm. ‘And it’s wonderful that you finally came, Hagrid. Come in, come in,’ she urged them both.
There was a large fireplace with a fire going and two rocking chairs by the fire and a side table with a full bottle of Firewhiskey set upon it. There were two large tea cups set there in their saucers, bookending the Firewhiskey. Fang didn’t have time to look around much more as he was distracted by another person coming into the room.
He looked over and there was Minerva McGonagall, a slight smile twitching at the corner of her mouth and a shortbread biscuit in her hand. ‘I do believe this was a favourite of yours,’ she told him, her smile becoming more distinct as Fang delicately took the biscuit from her hand with his mouth and laid down next to the fire.
Professor Grubbly-Plank huffed laughter. ‘Well, that settles it, Hagrid. He’s comfortable.’
Hagrid smiled. ‘Thank you for takin’ him in. I’m goin’ ter take a look at the hut an’ get settled in.’
‘How much time, Hagrid?’ asked Minerva, her blue eyes not giving him any leeway to lie.
‘Maybe a week. I wanted some time wi’ Fang an’ let him have time to get used teh yeh again. Then...then I know he’ll be OK, no matter what. Dozy dog. I’m grateful for yeh help. I didn’t know what teh do wi’ him an’ Charlie Weasley is nice enough but Fang don’ know him an’ there wasn’t time,’ explained Hagrid.
‘I understand, Hagrid. I promised Fang that if anything ever happened to you, I’d take care of him. He will miss you, Hagrid. But...he’ll be well taken care of,’ said Professor Grubbly-Plank, gently.
Hagrid mopped his eyes with his large red handkerchief. ‘I know he will. All righ’, then. Fang, stay here. I’ll be back.’
*****
Professor Grubbly-Plank and Fang visited Hagrid’s grave every day. It was only four days passed when Professor Grubbly-Plank went to check on him and found him in his bed, peaceful and looking as if he were only sleeping.
She and Minerva buried him next to the woods near their home and the hut. They had fashioned a gravestone for him and put it at the head of his grave once he had been lowered into the ground.
Fang laid next to the grave for a month both day and night before he was finally coaxed back to the house by Professor Grubbly-Plank. He took to sleeping on the floor in her and Minerva’s bedroom, on her side of the bed. His dog bed was moved there and he fell asleep every night, feeling comforted by her presence.
He missed Hagrid immensely. He missed everything about him, from his large hands patting him roughly to his voice calling Fang’s name to his roar of laughter when he was amused. He knew he’d always miss the one who’d taken him in and raised him. It helped to have Professor Grubbly-Plank there, though. She made sure to rub his ears and talk to him about the good memories he must have of Hagrid. She helped ease his raw loss into something manageable.
Time passed. Fang was content. He dreamt of his mother and his siblings. He dreamt of Hagrid. He dreamt of Professor Grubbly-Plank walking through the Forest with him at her side. He dreamt and one day, he slipped away into the welcoming arms of the night when all his dreams had been dreamt in full.
Finis
Prompt/Prompt Author: Year 4 or 5. Fang pines for Hagrid, and Wilhelmina ... well, we don't know anything about her, do we? POV can be any -- Fang, Wilhelmina, a third party ... / Tetleythesecond
Title: In Which Fang Makes a Friend or That Dozy Dog Finds Himself Again with a Little Help
Characters: Fang, Wilhemina Grubbly-Plank, Minerva McGonagall, Hagrid, Pomona Sprout Mention of: Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Charlie Weasley, Firenze, Bane, Dolores Umbridge, Griselda Marchbank
Rating: PG
Warnings: Some graphic description of death in introduction
Word Count: 8,145
Summary: Fang is put into Professor Grubbly-Plank’s care while Hagrid is away. A friendship develops between the two and Professor Grubbly-Plank susses out Fang’s true inner character.
Author's Notes: I saw this prompt and was like, ‘This is mine! Mine, I say!’ and I was absolutely thrilled when I was notified I could write for it. I’m an animal lover and adore dogs. I really liked the idea of Fang learning to trust and become friends with Professor Grubbly-Plank. I set the time period within the sixth book from when Hagrid leaves to when he comes back. There are certain events that happened in the book that will be mirrored in this story. I also took the liberty of including certain elements from my prompt author’s own fics and included them in this story as “easter eggs.” I do hope my prompt author enjoys finding them! I’ve often thought about Fang and wondered if he truly was a ‘coward’ as Hagrid claimed and if so, why? And what circumstances? I didn’t buy it for a minute...thus, my intro. Also, Fang might have pushed who he really was deep down inside of himself but with Professor Grubbly-Plank’s intuitive understanding of how animals work, Fang rediscovers that part of himself he’d let go of for so long. Another item of note: Fang’s name given to him by his mother is a tribute to the actor who played Uncle Vernon Dursley. He was, by all accounts, a wonderful, charming, funny man in real life. It just goes to show that one doesn’t really know a person by their public persona...a parallel to Fang in my story, here.
Also, my thanks to A for beta’ing the heck out of this...and to my wonderful amazing friend, T for her awesome Brit picking of my story...and not laughing at my “pants” mistake!
Prologue: The Forbidden Forest
Fang’s earliest memory was of his mother and his littermates. He was the largest of the lot, always the first to latch on and nurse, the first to wobble about on paws too big for his body. He would wrestle with his brothers and sisters and snap and snarl in play anger. He would cuddle up to his mother after nursing, his tummy distended from milk, and drift off to dream land, his paws twitching in his sleep.
His mother would give him a lick or two about his ears every morning, holding him in place with her paw before letting him go. He’d tumble out of the burrow and scrabble up the shallow incline to sniff around the forest floor. Sometimes his brothers would join him, sometimes a sister or two; usually, it was just him, checking out the new smells and marking his territory with pride.
‘Griffith,’ her mother told him, ‘Stay near the burrow. Don’t stray. Don’t go further than the tree on the other side. The forest is a large place, a large place where bad things can happen to small pups.’ He’d nod his head solemnly but he always forgot her warning when he was distracted by such things as butterflies that flitted past. He was as brave as a lion, wasn’t he? He was the one who never whimpered during storms. He could hardly wait to get bigger so he could explore the entire length and breadth of the forest.
Time seemed to pass so slowly. He grew bigger and he was able to jump and walk and run without stumbling once. He still cuddled next to his mother at night and nipped at his littermates if they got too close but he was an independent bloke. He would disobey his mother and explore further and further past the large tree by their burrow. The burrow seemed so small now and he was eager to see what was further beyond the place he called home.
One day, a sunny fine day, he went further than he’d ever gone before. He tracked the scent of what he thought might be other four footed creatures and was immersed in following the trail. It helped that there were markings on the forest floor, imprints that were oddly shaped to his inexperienced eyes. It was exciting and he didn’t give a moment’s thought to how far he’d wandered off and how late in the day it was. This was the finest adventure he’d had yet and he couldn’t wait to tell his littermates about it.
The day progressed. He’d found a clear stream and spent some time drinking from it. It was cold and the water tasted wonderful to him. He drank his fill and continued on, noting that there were more imprints joining the original ones he’d found. Perhaps he would discover new friends once he caught up with whoever was making the tracks. He could roam all day with his new friends and run about the forest without a care in the world. He couldn’t wait to meet them. They’d be so impressed by his bravery. He was the bravest pup in the world; his mother told him so.
The sky began to darken. He glanced up and realised that it was almost nightfall. He took one more sniff at the tracks in front of him and sighed to himself. He’d better get back to the burrow, to his home. His mother would be upset with him and was probably worried. He’d never been away this long. His tummy rumbled. He wanted to nestle next to her, push aside his littermates and claim his usual spot. He’d nurse until he was full to bursting as always and fall asleep against her warmth.
He headed back, retracing his steps with care. He hadn’t realised how far he’d actually gone this time and his paws were beginning to ache from the unusual amount of time he’d spent trotting along the forest floor. He stopped at the stream again to refresh himself and quell the rumble in his tummy; he was so hungry. He continued onward, following his own scent now.
As he got closer to home, he could smell something else on the air; something that raised the hairs of his neck and had him curling his lips back over his teeth. His steps slowed, became cautious. He pretended he was stalking butterflies; he made no sound as he neared his home. He could smell a coppery scent that had a whine raising in his throat. He could smell distress and fear and pain.
Outside of the burrow, he could see his littermates strewn over the ground. They weren’t moving. The coppery scent was all over them and something else, something that had him forcing a howl back down his throat. He stopped, quivering, still hidden. He looked around, stretched his hearing as far as he could. He could hear nothing except the wind blowing through the tree next to the burrow. Whatever had happened here was done now. Whatever came here had left.
He crept forward, his bravery trickling out of him as the blood from his littermates trickled out of their bodies. None responded to his frantic nosing or pawing. He had turned over his favourite littermate, the brother who was next biggest in size, and whimpered when his brother’s head lolled back, revealing a throat torn open.
A sound from the burrow had him frozen in fear. He was afraid to move, afraid to leave. He was brave, wasn’t he? He was brave, his mother said so. He crept forward, each step forward agony. He looked down into the burrow and the first small howl escaped from his throat.
His mother laid there, her body broken, the blood scent filling the small burrow where he’d spent so much time feeling safe and loved. She raised her head when he scrabbled down, trying to be careful of her body. She whimpered when he accidentally jostled her and he whimpered back, feeling helpless as the day he first opened his eyes.
‘My Griffith...I was so angry when you were gone for so long...I didn’t know where you went and I’d warned you to not go beyond the tree...’ she breathed out, her voice rasping with effort.
‘Mum...don’t talk...don’t...’ he licked the blood from her mouth, wincing at the taste but wanting to comfort her the best he could.
‘It’s too late, my son...I want you to know I’m glad you went...I’m glad you were so brave and adventured far away...you were gone when it came here...gone when it killed your littermates and...’ she paused, her body racked in pain.
‘Mum...mum...don’t leave me. Don’t leave me alone,’ he cried, his eyes filling with tears, his tongue working frantically to stop the bleeding.
‘Griffith...my brave son...it’ll be all right. You’ll be fine...shhhh...just...know I love you. I’m not angry anymore. I’m so proud of you...I love you,’ she whispered and shuddered and no matter how he prodded at her, how he whimpered her name, she no longer responded to him.
He nuzzled at her one last time, ignoring the scent of blood, breathing in the scent of her, and staggered out of the burrow, his grief making him reckless. He laid amongst his littermates, no longer caring if whatever it was that killed them came back to finish what it’d started. His mother was dead. His littermates were dead. He, the bravest one of all, was the only one left alive. Bravery. What good did it do him? What good did it do his mother and his littermates? Nothing. Not one thing except leave him alone in the world. He didn’t need to be brave. He didn’t need to be adventurous. What he needed was dead and he was left all alone. Never again. He was done.
*****
He heard the sound of...something...come near. He didn’t move, just opened his eyes up a little. He was so dizzy from lack of food and from grief and he almost couldn’t believe his eyes. He saw what looked to be four hooved creatures and something else...centaurs, he remembered. His mother told him centaurs lived in the woods and while he should stay out of their way, they wouldn’t hurt him.
The one centaur looked kind. He had blond hair and bright blue eyes. He leaned down to gently touch the bodies of Griffith’s siblings.
The other centaur snorted impatiently. He had a darker coat and he didn’t seem to care about the bodies of Griffith’s siblings. Griffith didn’t like him at all.
‘Peace, Bane...the little ones are dead...’ said the kind centaur.
The other centaur had walked over to the burrow and peered in. ‘Mother’s dead as well. That must have been the same creature that murdered two of our own before we caught up to it.’
There was dark satisfaction in the other centaur’s voice and Griffith was similarly darkly pleased. So the creature that had killed his family had met its own end at the hand of these centaurs? Good. That pleased him as well.
The kind centaur turned Griffith over gently and he whimpered, softly. It wasn’t a loud sound but the centaur’s ears twitched and he picked Griffith up and examined him closely. ‘This one is still alive, Bane! I wonder how he managed to survive. There isn’t a mark on him.’
‘He must have been a bloody coward. Must have run away when the creature was ravaging his siblings,’ said Bane dismissively.
‘No...that creature would have found him, if he’d been anywhere near this place. He must have been wandering. This might be the same one who left those footprints near the pathway down the way,’ mused the centaur.
‘So what if it is? And what are we going to do with it, Firenze? We can’t raise it and I refuse to take care of it. Better that I slit its throat and let it join its siblings,’ said Bane.
‘No. He’s a brave little one, wandering so far off...he’s not going to be hurt for not being here when his family was slaughtered. I don’t think he believes he was fortunate at all, once he came back and found this.’ Firenze gently stroked Griffith’s back and ears. ‘I am going to take him to someone who can take care of him and will raise him well.’
Bane snorted. ‘Again, you offer yourself as a common pack mule. And who will take care of this unfortunate, then?’
Firenze didn’t respond to Bane’s taunts. He turned away with Griffith cradled gently in his arms. ‘Come, little one. I know just the person who will take good care of you.’
Home of the Keeper of the Keys, Game and Grounds, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
‘Fang! Fang! Where are yeh, yeh dozy dog! I’ve got to be packin my things here an’ I don’t have all day teh wait for yeh,’ called Hagrid. He muttered some more to himself as he moved about his hut, filling a large rucksack with various items.
Fang trotted back into the hut from outside, where he’d been curled up in the sun. He knew the bushy haired tall one was leaving because the rucksack was out and the night before, the old, crooked nosed one had visited the hut. Fang liked him; the old one didn’t mind when Fang drooled on him and brought lemon drops that he slipped to Fang when the bushy haired tall one, Hagrid, wasn’t looking. Fang was grateful for the small tart treats; he could only stand so much of Hagrid’s cooking.
‘There yeh are! Dumbledore came last nigh’ teh remind me of the job I’m goin’ teh do. It’s important an’ dangerous but if we’re gonna win th’ war, then I’m goin’ teh do my part. Olympe is goin’ teh be here soon an’ I’m almost done wi’ th’ packing. Now Fang, yeh can’t come wi’ me. It’s too dangerous an’ I’ll be gone for a long time. I don’t know when I’ll be back. So yeh’ll stay here and Professor Grubbly-Plank is gon’ teh take care of yeh. She’s a good un’ an’ yeh’ll be safe an’ sound wi’ her. Jus'...be good for her, yeh hear? Don’t cause any trouble. An’ keep an eye out for Harry an’ ‘Ermione an’ Ron. Those three get into more trouble than th’ Weasley twins an’ that’s sayin’ somethin’.’
Hagrid thumped Fang’s side with clumsy affection. Fang endured it, barely noticing how his ribs creaked with every tap of Hagrid’s large hand. Hagrid never knew his own strength; it was good that Fang wasn’t a small animal.
Fang leaned into Hagrid’s rough, affectionate caress. He was very fond of the boy with messy hair, the girl with hair that tumbled down wildly, a mass of curls down her slight frame. He also had affection for the youngest red-haired boy child in the gang of red-haired children he’d gotten to know over the years. Each child had his or her own traits and this youngest boy had moments of strategic insightfulness coupled with unsurety and insecurity.
Fang wasn’t sure he was exactly up to the task for keeping an eye on these three but he was game to try. Well, as much as he was able to, anyway. He couldn’t help it if they kept getting into trouble in places such as the Forest that was His Home and within the Castle Itself.
Hagrid slung his sack over his shoulder and patted Fang’s head one more time. ‘Yeh be good, now, for Professor Grubbly-Plank, yeh hear? I’ll be back when I can.’
Fang leaned against the door once it was closed behind him and let out a mournful howl. He wasn’t sure about anyone else taking care of him, living in Hagrid’s hut. What would this professor know of unicorns and bowtruckles and large boarhounds? Fang let out one last whimper and then went to his bed and curled about himself.
He would just have to see about this person Hagrid spoke so highly of. In the meantime, he’d take a nap.
*****
It was night time and no one had come at all. Fang was hungry and thirsty and not sure what was going to happen to him. He’d normally have had dinner by now and a ramble with Hagrid out in the Forest and then he’d settle down by the fire and listen to Hagrid talk to some creature that needed mending.
There was a slight noise and the door swung open to reveal a woman with short cropped blonde hair and a generous chin. She looked around Hagrid’s hut until she saw Fang. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry! I was catching up at the castle with Minerva and Pomona when I remembered I needed to come and take care of you.’
She entered the hut with a knapsack that had enticing smells emanating from it. ‘I know Hagrid feeds you something different but I thought just this once, I could feed you a little something extra. I asked the house elves to put together something for you and they went a little overboard, I’m afraid. There’s enough for two of you.’
As she talked, she moved around the hut and took Fang’s bowl from the side cupboard. She checked his water bowl, frowned, and cast aguamenti on it. Fresh clean water filled in the bowl.
Fang went to his water bowl, giving her a wide berth, cautious in his step and demeanour. She kept her distance, respecting his body language, and opened up the bag to pull out a half a ham and some new potatoes. Fang’s senses went into delirium at the scent and sight of the food.
She put the ham into his bowl and set the new potatoes beside it. She carefully, slowly, put the bowl on the floor close to him and stepped slowly back, giving him plenty of space.
Fang glanced up at her, measured the distance between them, and felt safe enough to begin to eat. He started slowly but as he made his way through the ham and potatoes, he ate quickly, feeling his stomach filling up with each bite.
After a while, he slowed down and ate his last few morsels with pleasure. He took a long drink from his water bowl and sighed with happiness. He walked over to the door and looked over his shoulder at the witch who had sat at Hagrid’s table, keeping her distance and letting Fang get used to her.
‘Would you like to go for a walk, then?’ she asked him.
Fang considered her for a moment, taking in her kind face, and waved his tail once with a woof for emphasis.
‘Alright, then, let’s see if I can find any bowtruckles for tomorrow’s lesson,’ she said to Fang. ‘Perhaps you know of where some can be found.’
Fang’s ears perked up. He knew the Forest as well as Hagrid did. He’d walked over most of it with Hagrid, shying away from his old burrow. Hagrid figured he was scared of certain areas of the woods; Fang didn’t know how to tell him any different and it didn’t matter. Hagrid thought he was a big coward. Fang knew better. If he chose to revert to his puppyish ways, he could lose Hagrid, too. He wouldn’t risk that for all the world. He’d rather be called a coward the rest of his life.
Fang stepped to the side as Professor Grubbly-Plank got up and walked over to where he was. She briefly set her hand on his head and rubbed his ears; Fang’s eyes rolled back in his head with pleasure. Then, she opened the door. ‘Let’s go see what we can find, Fang,’ she told him with a smile.
Fang bounded out and looked back at her. He missed Hagrid still, immensely. But he wasn’t afraid of her or her intentions, anymore.
*****
Time passed by. Fang still missed Hagrid. He wondered where he was and what he was doing. He’d heard word of “giants” and “Voldemort” and knew that something was afoot. He found himself spending more time with Professor Grubbly-Plank, though. She had indeed found some bowtruckles and wood lice that Bowtruckles snacked on that first night. She pointed out various plants on their walk that she’d used to bind animal’s wounds with and to help heal them and Fang realized she knew quite a lot about animal husbandry.
Sometimes, Minerva (Fang knew this was Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts but he called her Minerva in his head because that was much easier) would come walking down the path to the hut and she and Professor Grubbly-Plank (Wilhemina was her name but Fang referred to her as Professor Grubbly-Plank, mostly) would sit and have tea. Sometimes, they’d hold hands and their voices would lower. Fang always averted his eyes as he didn’t want them to think he was staring. The scent of tobacco from Wilhemina's pipe and the sharp scent of Firewhiskey were the smells Fang associated with a visit from the Deputy Headmistress. That and the Scottish shortbread biscuits she brought along to sneak to Fang from time to time.
Other times, Fang would hang out in the greenhouse with Professor Grubbly-Plank and Pomona (Professor Sprout to the students) and the two of them would talk about that ‘dreadful awful Umbridge woman’ and Pomona would spread dragon dung over the exotic plants as she vented. Professor Grubbly-Plank would help haul the heavy bags of fertilizer around and she’d accept the snippets of fresh herbs Pomona would give her for dinner.
Every now and then, an owl would come soaring to perch on the window and Professor Grubbly-Plank would get a message that had her muttering about ‘dinner party’ and ‘Marchbanks’ and ‘cogs and wheels.’ She’d apologize to Fang profusely and would get dressed in her finest Witch’s robes and be gone for the evening. Fang was always a little more lonely when she’d go and he’d miss Hagrid even more during those times.
One day, Professor Grubbly-Plank came into the hut with an owl that Fang recognized. The snowy white bird lay still in her arms. Fang knew this was the boy with the messy hair’s bird. No one had an owl like his in the school. Fang could smell blood on her and he growled low in his throat with indignation and worry.
‘I think someone has done a mischief to this poor owl,’ murmured Professor Grubbly-Plank to him as she set Hedwig down gently and cleared a space on the table Hagrid and now she used to examine smaller creatures. ‘Let’s take a look at that...yes...yes, I see...all right, Hedwig...this isn’t going to feel good for a moment and then it will feel a lot better,’ crooned Professor Grubbly-Plank as she pulled on a pair of dragon hide gloves and gently held Hedwig down to clean out the wound and then apply medicine to it.
Hedwig didn’t like it at all and hooted and tried to nip Professor Grubbly-Plank who didn’t take it personally at all. She merely shifted her hands so Hedwig couldn’t get at her and quickly put a salve on Hedwig’s wing.
‘There. Now, let’s get you set up in a box and you can take your time and mend. You should be ok in a while...just need you to stay still until that’s healed,’ Professor Grubbly-Plank told Hedwig.
Hedwig hooted and clicked her beak a couple of times and then nodded her head at an amused Professor Grubbly-Plank. ‘Indeed? Well, a couple of mice can be had. Fang and I have to do our nightly stroll. We’ll see what we can do.’
Professor Grubbly-Plank got a box ready with soft fabric in it and gently set Hedwig into it. Hedwig settled down and hooted softly. She looked pleased.
That night, Professor Grubbly-Plank was more talkative than usual. Fang figured it was doctoring Hedwig that might have loosened her tongue. He listened to her talk, keeping an eye out for mice that rustled in the grass so he could alert her.
‘I wasn’t the smartest witch in my class. No, I’ll leave that distinction to the likes of Minerva back then and young Hermione, now. But the things that I learned in the greenhouse and the kinship I felt with the creatures I studied in the Care of Magical Creatures class...it helped decide my path in life. I’m a lot like Hagrid in that I think all creatures are fascinating, even the big dangerous ones and the not so big dangerous ones. I don’t have the same liking for dragons that Hagrid does but I do happen to like sphinxes, believe it or not. I was sad I missed seeing that sphinx they had in the Goblet of Fire tournament but not sad to miss what came after.’
Professor Grubbly-Plank took a breath and sighed. ‘I remember when Voldemort rose to power the first time around. Yes, I can say his name. I refuse to call him by that bloody moniker. I’d lost some fine friends due to his schemes and dreams of pure blood supremacy. Ridiculous! Look at young Hermione...her a muggle born and the smartest witch of her age. Look at what she can do and look at poor Neville Longbottom who can hardly make the simplest of potions. He comes from the purest blooded wizard family in all of Britain. Blood doesn’t tell all by itself. It’s also talent and hard work and determination...it’s something that can’t be distilled or separated like that. Now, with Voldemort back and the Ministry denying it, he has more scope to operate within, to raise his network of Death Eaters again. It’s ridiculous!’
Fang laid back his ears and growled in agreement.
Professor Grubbly-Plank laughed. ‘I know you miss Hagrid. He’s doing something for Dumbledore and I know he has a better chance than any of us, due to who he is. I hope he succeeds. It would also help Hagrid as well. It’s hard being an outsider, Fang. I’ve been on the outside most of my life. I was expected to settle down and marry a fine wizard and raise children who would go to Hogwarts as they got older. That wasn’t for me, though. I fancied a fine witch instead and if I could, I would have married her and lived my life the way I wanted to. Instead, I married a friend to help him out during Voldemort’s first reign. He was a half blood and by marrying me and joining our names together, he’d have a little protection. He has gone into hiding this time around, though. Fled to America to live. I don’t blame him, not with how the Ministry is handling things. It’s going to get worse before it gets better. There will be murders of muggles left and right before we can put Voldemort down for good. He’s like a rabid animal, Fang. There’s no saving him.’
They walked some more in silence and she captured two mice that would do for Hedwig. The moon shone bright in the woods and Professor Grubbly-Plank looked thoughtfully down at the large boarhound.
‘Hagrid says you’re a coward but I don’t think so. You would stay at the hut and not want to walk in the Forest at night. I think there’s a reason why you stay so close to my side. Whatever it is, Fang, I know that if the time ever came and you needed to protect Hagrid or myself or the children at Hogwarts, you’d show everyone what you are capable of.’
Fang glanced up at her and curled the corners of his lips up into a smug doggy smile.
Professor Grubbly-Plank laughed again, putting her hand down to rub Fang’s ears. ‘It’ll be our little secret. I’ve another get together at Griselda’s home in a couple of days. There’s been murmurs of a secret army that Fudge is afraid of and then young Mr Potter is up to his neck in trouble. That Umbridge woman...she’d better watch her step. She’s running amok and Pomona is just a few steps away from putting some herbs in her tea.’
Fang trotted at Professor Grubbly-Plank’s side as she headed back to the hut with the two mice in a small cage in her hands. He watched as she fed Hedwig the mice and then curled up in his basket after taking a drink of water. His eyes drooped halfway closed and he watched as Professor Grubbly-Plank moved around the hut with the ease of a person comfortable with her surroundings.
‘Minerva is going to visit me tomorrow night. That’ll be nice. I’ve missed her. I missed spending time with her when she took on the position of Deputy Headmistress here, Fang. I’ve loved her ever since we were students here at Hogwarts. It’s been a rare treat seeing her every day. I don’t know what we’ll do once Hagrid comes back and I’m off to wherever I can work. It’ll be some distance away seeing as my skills are best used in the country and I can set up shop somewhere. But it won’t be near here. It won’t be near Minerva.’
Professor Grubbly-Plank changed into her sleeping gown and got into the large bed that Hagrid had thoughtfully prepared for her. He’d changed the sheets and had tucked fresh bedding into the ticking before he left. Fang could still smell the scent of lavender that Hagrid had mixed in with the newly gathered hay.
‘Ah, well. I’ll deal with that when the day comes, Fang. Good night. Good night, Hedwig. I’ll see you both in the morning.’
There was silence after a little while and Fang laid there, listening to her breathe and to Hedwig rustle her one good wing every now and then. He fell asleep shortly after.
*****
A few days later, Hedwig was doing just fine. She could spread her wings without flinching and her feathers were back in proper place. Professor Grubbly-Plank brought her up to the castle so the boy with the messy hair could see his owl was in fine health.
Fang laid outside the hut, the autumn air cool and ruffling the fur on his body. He wondered where Hagrid was and if he was safe and what he was doing. He wished he knew how much longer it would be before Hagrid would come striding through the clearing, calling Fang’s name and thumping his side with his large hand in greeting.
Fang sighed. Professor Grumbly-Plank was alright but she wasn’t Hagrid. Fang enjoyed her company but he missed hearing Hagrid mutter to himself as he tended to the various chores a games keeper at a large castle would need to do. Fang looked at the pumpkins in the garden, sadly; Hagrid used magic on the sly to make the pumpkins grow to a remarkable size. This year, the pumpkins weren’t very large at all. There was no pink umbrella disguising a snapped wand being waved about unobtrusively and no giant pumpkins crowding their space in the garden.
Fang’s mind went from contemplating pumpkins to wondering if Minerva was going to visit again tonight. The Deputy Headmistress usually came by every three to four days. She hadn’t been by in three days so Fang figured it was past time. He hoped she’d bring some of those brilliant shortbread biscuits; his mouth watered at the thought of it.
Sure enough, Minerva knocked on the door at half past nine. Professor Grubbly-Plank opened the door and ushered her inside, setting her outer cloak onto a peg by the door. Minerva sat down in the rocking chair by the fire and reached into her pocket for a tin. ‘Here, Fang, I’ve brought you something,’ she said and Fang wagged his tail as he smelled the rich buttery tang of biscuits within the brightly coloured tin.
He gently took one biscuit from her hand and laid at her feet, gnawing happily.
‘So...what news from our friends?’ asked Professor Grubbly-Plank as she handed Minerva a cup of tea and set the Firewhiskey bottle alongside it on the table.
Minerva thanked her and poured a generous dram into the cup and said, ‘We haven’t made a whole lot of headway within the Ministry. Lucius Malfoy is getting cosier and cosier with Fudge. Griselda has decided she wants to see for herself what’s going on here at Hogwarts. I do believe she’s going to come this spring to test some of our O.W.L. students.’
Professor Grubbly-Plank groaned in amusement and horror. ‘Does Albus know of this? The man might be one of the wiliest wizards of our time but he is no match against Griselda.’
‘He knows. He simply popped a lemon drop into his mouth and didn’t say a word. I’m choosing to interpret that the sour expression was from the candy and not the news he received from the owl about her intentions,’ said Minerva, dryly, her eyes twinkling with suppressed humour.
‘Well, she’ll get an eyeful, then. Umbridge is no match for her. It’s a pity I won’t be around to see that,’ said Professor Grubbly-Plank, taking the bull by the horns.
‘Whatever do you mean?’ asked Minerva, setting the cup of tea down with alarming alacrity. The tea sloshed over the side in her haste and dripped gently down the side of the table.
Professor Grubbly-Plank got a towel and mopped up the tea. She folded the towel and set it on the table before turning to Minerva. ‘I won’t be here the whole year, Minerva. Hagrid will be back, eventually. Hopefully with good news. We need all we can get right now. And I’ll have to see which wizarding community will want my services.’
‘I see,’ said Minerva. Fang looked at her and pushed his head under her hand. She looked sad and tired all of a sudden. She pet Fang absentmindedly, her agile fingers making furrows through his short hair.
There was silence for a few minutes as she pet Fang and the fire crackled in the fireplace. Professor Grubbly-Plank took a fortifying sip of tea with a generous dash of Firewhiskey added to it.
‘It’s been good to have you here, Wilhemina,’ said Minerva, quietly. ‘It’s been a luxury to be able to see you every few days...to talk to you every day in the Great Hall over dinner...to see you teach the students without hearing about some minor or major catastrophe with one of the creatures.’
They both chuckled, knowing Hagrid’s liking for showing his classes the more dangerous creatures in the Forest.
‘I’d like you to stay if you could...stay nearby...’ said Minerva, bluntly. ‘It’s preferable to exchanging letters delivered by owls and seeing you only during school hols and summer break...this time has me realizing that I enjoy your company and being with you without distance keeping us apart,’ said Minerva.
Fang looked up to see tears in Professor Grubbly-Plank’s eyes. He lurched up and walked over to her side, leaning against her, his head resting on her lap. She chuckled weakly, rubbing his ears the way she knew he liked. They both ignored the drool that was making the fabric around her knees damp.
‘Minerva, if time had been more kind to us...if this war...if Voldemort...if, if, if...you’re right, this has been a luxury. I knew it wouldn’t last and I told myself I wouldn’t ask for more. I couldn’t ask for more. I respect your position here as Deputy Headmistress, as Head of Gryffindor House, and as Dumbledore’s right hand. I’d do nothing to endanger it nor make you feel as though you were torn in two. Your duty, your discipline towards Hogwarts and all it entails and your relationship with me and all it entails...I’d never make you choose. Perhaps, after the war is done and Voldemort is defeated...perhaps after you retire...we can revisit this...we can decide what we want to do and where we want to live. Until then...’ Professor Grubbly-Plank shook her head in gracious defeat. ‘I’ll need to go where I will be hired. I don’t want our relationship to end...do you, Minerva?’ she asked, keeping her eyes steady on Minerva’s.
Minerva didn’t say a word but laced her fingers with Professor Grubbly-Plank’s and raised their joined hands, brushing her lips over their knuckles with emphasis. She kept their hands together as she drew Professor Grubbly-Plank in for a kiss.
Fang decided to find the embers immensely fascinating at that moment and curled up in his bed and faked sleep when Professor Grubbly-Plank said, ‘Stay’ in a whisper that barely reached his ears and he saw Minerva nod her head.
*****
The days passed. Fang now had a daily routine with Professor Grubbly-Plank that he admitted was rather nice. He woke up, ate a nice hearty breakfast, and went outside with her to relieve himself and walk a bit to stretch his legs. After that, he followed her around as she did her duties. She fed the Thestrals, kept an eye on the flora and fauna around the Forest, and taught the Care of Magical Creatures class. When the day was done, she’d make him something at the hut before walking up to the Castle to eat with the staff. After dinner, she’d come back and sometimes they’d visit Professor Sprout in the greenhouse, sometimes they’d go ramble in the Forest. Every three to four days, Minerva would come by and would stay the night.
Fang wondered if Hagrid would ever come back. He worried that perhaps something had happened to him; perhaps he was badly wounded in his journeys or perhaps he was dead. Every time an owl came with a message, Fang would quiver with anxiety. Professor Grubbly-Plank noticed, of course she did, and she said to Fang, ‘If something happens to Hagrid, you’ll be the first to know. I know you like me and we get along but I’m not Hagrid. I want you to know, though, that you wouldn’t be abandoned if something did happen to him. I’d take you with me, if that’d be all right.’
Fang studied her for a moment, taking in her short cropped blonde hair, her steady gaze, her broad chin that was tilted upwards in reassurance and he put his head on her lap, the drool dripping onto her robe.
She rubbed his ears, gently. ‘Good, then. We have an understanding.’
*****
It was in the evening when Fang heard the noise of familiar footsteps coming up the path. Professor Grubbly-Plank listened for a moment and then she smiled at Fang who whined in excitement.
‘Well, go see, then,’ she teased him, opening the door so Fang could bound outside.
‘Fang! There yeh are, yeh daft dog! Have yeh been good while I was gone? Have yeh?’ asked Hagrid as he easily lifted Fang up against his chest. He laughed when Fang licked his face and whined with happiness.
Fang pushed against Hagrid’s chest and Hagrid released him so Fang could drop on all fours to the ground and jump around him, his tail waving back and forth.
‘Hagrid! What in the world happened to you?’ gasped Professor Grubbly-Plank.
Fang looked at Hagrid instinctively and then smelled the blood on him at the same time. He’d been so excited to see Hagrid that he hadn’t smelled him properly or taken a good look at him. Hagrid looked awful; he had a black eye that was developing into a spectacular shiner and cuts and bruises all over his skin. His shirt was torn and so were his trousers. But he had a sublime smile on his face and he waved his hands at Professor Grubbly-Plank unconcernedly.
‘Jus’ some scratches, Professor Grubbly-Plank. I’ll doctor myself righ’ up, don’t yeh worry abou’ it. I’m fine, jus’ fine,’ said Hagrid with his usual bluster.
Professor Grubbly-Plank gave him a dubious look but took him at his word. She went back into Hagrid’s hut and after a few moments, came back out with a trunk. Fang remembered she had brought it into the hut after her first night’s stay.
‘Fang was fine. He was a good companion and guarded me and kept me safe. Such a brave dog,’ praised Professor Grubbly-Plank, rubbing Fang’s ears with practiced ease. Fang leaned against her and gave her a doggy smile.
‘Are yeh talkin’ about th’ same dog I know? This coward?’ teased Hagrid with a wide smile.
Professor Grubbly-Plank didn’t smile back. She shook her head and frowned a little at Hagrid. Fang had seen students pale at that expression. ‘He’s no coward, Hagrid. He has his reasons for staying so close to you as he does but he’s not a coward. You never know. He might defend you when you least expect it.’
She bent down and hugged Fang. ‘Thank you, Fang. I’ll miss you,’ she said to him. Fang had seen a flash of something pass over her face when Hagrid first appeared; he realized that there was a part of her who would have loved to have taken care of him for the rest of his life. The thought that followed was that he wouldn’t have minded it at all. He would have missed Hagrid the rest of his life, of course. But he’d grown attached to Professor Grubbly-Plank and knew he would’ve lived a full happy life with her.
Fang rested his head against her shoulder and breathed in her scent; tobacco and herbs from the various plants she used during the day. He’d miss her, too.
‘I’ll see you around, Hagrid. I’m to go up to the castle?’ she asked, straightening up with one final pat to Fang’s head.
‘Yeah. Dumbledore would like to see yeh. He can tell yeh what happened. I better get somethin’ on this eye,’ said Hagrid.
‘Thank you. Bye, Hagrid. Bye, Fang,’ said Professor Grubbly-Plank. She flicked her wand, said, ‘Locomotor,’ and pointed it at her trunk. It rose immediately into the air and she directed it along ahead of her as she walked up to the castle.
Fang watched as she went up to the castle and then the door opened and she went inside. A square of light when the door opened against the dark, her shadow against it, and then the light and shadow disappeared as the door closed.
‘Let’s go inside, yeah, Fang? It’s good teh be home,’ said Hagrid, thoughtfully, his large hand patting Fang’s head.
Fang followed Hagrid into the hut. His life was back to normal again and as he watched Hagrid move about the hut with weary familiarity, he sighed. He was glad Hagrid was home, was glad that he was safe and sound. He’d missed him for quite a long time. But he was grateful for the care he’d received from Professor Grubbly-Plank as well. And he remembered her last words. She knew he was brave, deep down inside. She found the Griffith that still lived within him. Somehow, she knew what his mother said. He was the bravest pup, his mother and now Professor Grubbly-Plank said so. It must be true.
Fang settled into his basket, groaning with pleasure as his body relaxed. He resolved that he’d live up to what Professor Grubbly-Plank told Hagrid about him. He remembered being that little pup in the Forest, exploring and going farther than any of his brothers and sisters. He remembered being Griffith and for the first time, he was at peace with his past. He was brave and if anyone threatened Hagrid (and here he thought of a toad like woman who wore all pink and made his lip curl up in disgust and suspicion), then that person would find out exactly what Fang was really made of deep down inside. He’d show Hagrid how much of a coward he really wasn’t and make Professor Grubbly-Plank proud of him.
As Fang fell asleep, he hoped he’d be able to see her one last time before she left the school. He wasn’t too upset, though. If he wasn’t able to say goodbye to her this time, it would be OK. He thought of Minerva McGonagall and the talk she had with Professor Grubbly-Plank. He had a feeling he’d see Professor Grubbly-Plank again.
Epilogue: Somewhere in Scotland
Fang took his time going up the mountain path. Hagrid had not told him where they were going, only that it was time. Hagrid had gotten noticeably older in the past year. He’d retired as Keeper of the Keys Game and Ground for Hogwarts the year prior, citing stiff limbs and being up in his years as reasons for needing to pass the position onto a younger fellow. Charlie Weasley was delighted to accept the post as he’d needed a job that would let him stay closer to his family. He’d decided he needed to come home from Romania after Arthur Weasley suffered a severe stroke and needed full time care. Molly was able to hire someone but Charlie wanted to be close by to check in on a regular basis.
Hagrid had packed his old rucksack up and shaken Charlie’s hand, then he whistled to Fang and hiked into Hogsmeade where there was a bus waiting. Hagrid and Fang got onto the bus and they rumbled out of the town.
Now, they were hiking up a path after being dropped off at the beginning of it by the bus. Hagrid seemed to know where they were going. He was walking on ahead, whistling happily. Fang followed, feeling an ache in his own joints. He, too, was getting old and he couldn’t bound about like he used to.
After a fifteen minute hike, the path flattened out and Fang could see a house in front of them. There was a large hut to the left of it and a barn behind it. Crisp red gingham curtains fluttered from the windows and the long porch in the front looked inviting with an assortment of rocking chairs on it.
Hagrid knocked on the front door and nodded down at Fang. ‘They’re expectin’ us. It won’t be long,’ he reassured him.
The door swung open and Fang found himself looking up at Professor Grubbly-Plank. His tail wagged rapidly back and forth with happiness and he could feel his mouth curving up into the biggest grin he could manage. He woofed happily and found he still could bound around a little bit after all.
Professor Grubbly-Plank laughed delightedly. ‘I’m happy to see you, too, Fang,’ she said. She patted Hagrid’s arm. ‘And it’s wonderful that you finally came, Hagrid. Come in, come in,’ she urged them both.
There was a large fireplace with a fire going and two rocking chairs by the fire and a side table with a full bottle of Firewhiskey set upon it. There were two large tea cups set there in their saucers, bookending the Firewhiskey. Fang didn’t have time to look around much more as he was distracted by another person coming into the room.
He looked over and there was Minerva McGonagall, a slight smile twitching at the corner of her mouth and a shortbread biscuit in her hand. ‘I do believe this was a favourite of yours,’ she told him, her smile becoming more distinct as Fang delicately took the biscuit from her hand with his mouth and laid down next to the fire.
Professor Grubbly-Plank huffed laughter. ‘Well, that settles it, Hagrid. He’s comfortable.’
Hagrid smiled. ‘Thank you for takin’ him in. I’m goin’ ter take a look at the hut an’ get settled in.’
‘How much time, Hagrid?’ asked Minerva, her blue eyes not giving him any leeway to lie.
‘Maybe a week. I wanted some time wi’ Fang an’ let him have time to get used teh yeh again. Then...then I know he’ll be OK, no matter what. Dozy dog. I’m grateful for yeh help. I didn’t know what teh do wi’ him an’ Charlie Weasley is nice enough but Fang don’ know him an’ there wasn’t time,’ explained Hagrid.
‘I understand, Hagrid. I promised Fang that if anything ever happened to you, I’d take care of him. He will miss you, Hagrid. But...he’ll be well taken care of,’ said Professor Grubbly-Plank, gently.
Hagrid mopped his eyes with his large red handkerchief. ‘I know he will. All righ’, then. Fang, stay here. I’ll be back.’
*****
Professor Grubbly-Plank and Fang visited Hagrid’s grave every day. It was only four days passed when Professor Grubbly-Plank went to check on him and found him in his bed, peaceful and looking as if he were only sleeping.
She and Minerva buried him next to the woods near their home and the hut. They had fashioned a gravestone for him and put it at the head of his grave once he had been lowered into the ground.
Fang laid next to the grave for a month both day and night before he was finally coaxed back to the house by Professor Grubbly-Plank. He took to sleeping on the floor in her and Minerva’s bedroom, on her side of the bed. His dog bed was moved there and he fell asleep every night, feeling comforted by her presence.
He missed Hagrid immensely. He missed everything about him, from his large hands patting him roughly to his voice calling Fang’s name to his roar of laughter when he was amused. He knew he’d always miss the one who’d taken him in and raised him. It helped to have Professor Grubbly-Plank there, though. She made sure to rub his ears and talk to him about the good memories he must have of Hagrid. She helped ease his raw loss into something manageable.
Time passed. Fang was content. He dreamt of his mother and his siblings. He dreamt of Hagrid. He dreamt of Professor Grubbly-Plank walking through the Forest with him at her side. He dreamt and one day, he slipped away into the welcoming arms of the night when all his dreams had been dreamt in full.
Finis