Whelp II The Wrath of Snape

tea.' Hagrid held out his hand, and Harry took it, letting the giant pull him up. Carrying Treacle in his arms, Harry followed the man into his hut, and allowed himself to be settled on one of the big chairs. Hagrid fussed with a tea kettle hanging over his hearth, then brought two steaming mugs to the table.

Treacle had turned around in circles several times on Harry's lap before she laid down, and was now quite still. Harry rubbed at her ears absently, and when Hagrid placed the huge mugs on the table, he startled a little. 'Sorry,' he murmured, and noted the tea. 'Thanks, Hagrid.'

'It's hot, so be sure'n take care with it.'

'Yes, sir.' Hagrid lifted his bushy eyebrows in surprise, and Harry quickly amended to, 'I mean, I will, Hagrid.'

'Good lad.' Hagrid took a long draught of his tea and swallowed noisily. Holding the mug between his hands, he turned it around and around. 'Did y'not like yer class, then?' he asked carefully.

'I'm useless,' Harry admitted. 'And bad.'

'Now, why would ye say such a thing as that? Who tol' ye such a thing?'

Harry shrugged and looked at his hands. 'Aunt Petunia,' he whispered. 'And Uncle Vernon.'

'Well they lied to ye, lad. Sure as spit. But no one here's said anythin' like that, 'ave they?' Hagrid's face was very serious. 'Not yer Da.'

'No!' Harry said quickly, and his words tumbled over each other in his haste to get them out, so Hagrid would not misunderstand again. 'But I can't do writing or nothing like everyone else, and I made a real mess of things, and Mrs. Weasley was just trying to help, and I thought she was . . . I mean, know she isn't, and would never . . . but for a second, I thought . . .'

'Thought what?'

Harry jumped, startled again by the new voice, and practically fell off the chair as he spun around. He landed on his feet, though, and looked up to see Mrs. Weasley in the doorway of Hagrid's cottage. Her face was crinkled up, around the eyes, and there were deep lines in her forehead. Harry dropped his gaze back to the floor -- he wasn't supposed to look at people in the face; he knew that.

'Harry, dear?' She said, and stepped through the doorway. 'What did I do to frighten you?'

'I wasn't scairt!' Harry protested. But he backed up a step. Couldn't help it.

Mrs. Weasley made an impatient sound, but then said softly, 'Please tell me, Harry.' She didn't try and come any closer, but crouched down where she was, so he didn't have to look up to see her. She kept one hand on the table for balance and her voice was still quiet and soothing. 'If I don't know what I've done to upset you, I can't stop from doing it again.'

Harry swallowed, and wrung his hands together. 'I'm sorry, ma'am, that I ran out of school. I won't do it again.'

'I didn't ask for an apology, dear heart.' Her voice was so kind, it almost brought tears to his eyes. 'I want to know, if you can tell me, what I did wrong.'

That surprised him enough to look into her face. 'No, ma'am! You didn't do nothing!'

'It's not true.' Mrs. Weasley smiled at him, just a little. 'I did, and I'd like you to tell me, please, what it was, so I can apologize.'

Harry shook his head. 'No, please! It was Aunt Petunia.'

A touch of confusion appeared in her eyes. 'Your Muggle aunt?'