THE KEEPER OF THE KEYS
“I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL
TO TEACH HIM MAGIC TRICKS!” yelled Uncle Vernon.
But he had finally gone too far. Hagrid seized his umbrella and
whirled it over his head, “NEVER —” he thundered, “— IN-
SULT — ALBUS — DUMBLEDORE — IN — FRONT —
OF — ME!”
He brought the umbrella swishing down through the air to
point at Dudley — there was a flash of violet light, a sound like a
firecracker, a sharp squeal, and the next second, Dudley was danc-
ing on the spot with his hands clasped over his fat bottom, howling
in pain. When he turned his back on them, Harry saw a curly pig’s
tail poking through a hole in his trousers.
Uncle Vernon roared. Pulling Aunt Petunia and Dudley into the
other room, he cast one last terrified look at Hagrid and slammed
the door behind them.
Hagrid looked down at his umbrella and stroked his beard.
“Shouldn’ta lost me temper,” he said ruefully, “but it didn’t work
anyway. Meant ter turn him into a pig, but I suppose he was so
much like a pig anyway there wasn’t much left ter do.”
He cast a sideways look at Harry under his bushy eyebrows.
“Be grateful if yeh didn’t mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts,”
he said. “I’m — er — not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin’.
I was allowed ter do a bit ter follow yeh an’ get yer letters to yeh an’
stuff — one o’ the reasons I was so keen ter take on the job —”
“Why aren’t you supposed to do magic?” asked Harry.
“Oh, well — I was at Hogwarts meself but I — er — got ex-
pelled, ter tell yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me
wand in half an’ everything. But Dumbledore let me stay on as
gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore.”
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