CHAPTER FOUR
squashed box. Harry opened it with trembling fingers. Inside was a
large, sticky chocolate cake with Happy Birthday Harry written on
it in green icing.
Harry looked up at the giant. He meant to say thank you, but
the words got lost on the way to his mouth, and what he said in-
stead was, “Who are you?”
The giant chuckled.
“True, I haven’t introduced meself. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of
Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts.”
He held out an enormous hand and shook Harry’s whole arm.
“What about that tea then, eh?” he said, rubbing his hands to-
gether. “I’d not say no ter summat stronger if yeh’ve got it, mind.”
His eyes fell on the empty grate with the shriveled chip bags in
it and he snorted. He bent down over the fireplace; they couldn’t
see what he was doing but when he drew back a second later, there
was a roaring fire there. It filled the whole damp hut with flickering
light and Harry felt the warmth wash over him as though he’d sunk
into a hot bath.
The giant sat back down on the sofa, which sagged under his
weight, and began taking all sorts of things out of the pockets of his
coat: a copper kettle, a squashy package of sausages, a poker, a
teapot, several chipped mugs, and a bottle of some amber liquid
that he took a swig from before starting to make tea. Soon the hut
was full of the sound and smell of sizzling sausage. Nobody said a
thing while the giant was working, but as he slid the first six fat,
juicy, slightly burnt sausages from the poker, Dudley fidgeted a lit-
tle. Uncle Vernon said sharply, “Don’t touch anything he gives you,
Dudley.”
The giant chuckled darkly.
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