I am sorry for what you are about to read.
Madame Maxine couldn’t deny that Hagrid had caught her attention from the very beginning, for no man had ever come close to her own height in her lifetime. Over time, Hagrid proved himself to be a pleasant conversationalist, and she had never seen her horses more content than they were under his care. She enjoyed spending time with him, especially the night before, when he had shown her the dragons for the first Triwizard Tournament challenge. C’était magnifique! She had never felt more comfortable with anyone, except perhaps that very brave stable boy she had once taken as a lover.
Her memories were rudely interrupted by the pecking of an owl’s beak against the window. It carried a letter, addressed to her. But who would need to reach her here? Curious, she let the owl in and opened the letter.
I had a great time with yeh last night. Magnificent creatures, dragons, aren’ they?
Would love ter see yeh again soon. Got lots o’ fascinating creatures in the Forest I think yeh might like.
Maxine felt positively charmed by his letter, even if Hagrid’s hand-writing was a bit messy. She had to admit she was very flattered by the way Hagrid doted on her, and so they started a hand-written correspondence outside of their meetings on the school grounds.
Blimey, what a day! Did yeh see Harry tackle that dragon? Reckon he’ll get far in the Tournament, he will. ‘Fcourse, Fleur did well, too. Yeh must be proud of her.
Anyway, I’m taking good care of yer horses. Figured yeh might like to stop by an’ check up on ‘em. There’s more single-malt whiskey where that came from.
I know this is a bit unusual to ask, but would yeh be me date for the Yule ball?
Also, I’ve made some tea an’ rock cakes. If ye’d like a few, stop by soon before Fang eats ‘em all.
Then, all of a sudden, the letters took a turn for the strange:
Yeh looked absolutely beautiful at the ball last night.
It’s clear that yer French because madamn.
And some were downright crude:
I’m big-boned too if yeh know what I mean.
I gave classes on Crumple-Horned Snorkacks today. They reminded me of yeh, because whenever I think of yeh, I feel like exploding, too. In my pants.
There’s another part of me that’s also half-giant.
That was the last drop. With a great, indignant huff, Maxine rose from her chair, grabbed the stack of foul letters, and marched over to Hagrid’s cabin, where she banged loudly on the door until he stood before her.
“Maxine!” Hagrid’s eyes lit up at once. “What a great surprise, I was just—”
“WHAT IS ZE MEANING OF ZIS?” she demanded, waving the letters in his face.
“What do yeh mean, Maxine?” Confused, he took the letters from her. As each letter passed before him, his eyes grew ever larger. “I—I—”
“I do not wish to be spoken to like zis! Do you find zis romantic? I am outraged!”
Hagrid, this big tree of a man, suddenly looked very small as he cowered before the rage of the giant woman. “I—I swear I don’t know—I didn’t write these—I would never! I didn’t, Maxine, I swear!”
“Well zen who did? Who would write such filth?!”
As he spluttered his way through an apology, Hagrid suddenly caught two flashes of bright red in one of the bushes nearby. The second they realised they’d been caught, two figures shot out of the bushes and ran straight for the castle, their laughs echoing throughout the grounds. He’d recognise those troublemakers anywhere.
“FRED! GEORGE!” Hagrid bellowed, ripping the letters into little pieces. “WAIT ‘TILL I GET ME HANDS ON YEH, YEH SNEAKING LITTLE RATS!”