Summary: Prompt #123: Write about Hagrid on a date
Characters/Pairings: Unrequited Hagrid/Dennis Creevey
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 / Mentions of mental illness, PTSD, unwanted attention
Word Count: 707
Can the Order post to Tumblr?: Yes
If yes, your Tumblr username: monkiainen
I know I’m not the kind of man most sane people would like to date. I’m a half-giant, and not especially bright. There’s nothing about me that would make people to fall head over heels for me.
That is possibly why I was so surprised to receive an owl, carrying a letter where a mysterious person told me to meet them at Hogsmeade three days from now. They only mentioned they were a “secret admirer” of mine, whatever that means. Now, I don’t usually have secret admirers. The last I was romantically involved with someone it didn’t end so well. Olympe is a magnificent woman, but we just didn’t fit.
If The Dark Lord were still in power, I would think the letter was some sort of plot, to lure me out of my hiding place. Harry did what everyone thought impossible and defeated Voldemort for good, and I have been living peacefully in my cabin ever since, teaching the Care of the Magical Creatures. My mind says I shouldn’t really trust anonymous letters too good to be true – I can almost hear Hermione berating me for being such a fool before performing various spells to determine if the sender’s meanings were sinister or not.
Still, something tells me I should go and at least see this mysterious person, whoever they are. I can always ask Minerva to check the letter for curses and such.
I can’t find Minerva anywhere the next time I set my foot inside the castle – I’m informed she’s off to the Ministry, doing whatever Headmistresses do. I turn to Filius instead, and when he informs me the letter is what it looks like, I know I have to prepare myself well. Wouldn’t be polite to show up on a date in my ordinary clothes.
I dust my best suit, and try it on to see if it still fits. I’m proud to say I haven’t gained a pound since the last time I wore – an admirable feat from someone in their early 80’s. Although to be fair, thanks to me mom’s giant blood I don’t age as fast as normal humans. In human years I’m probably around me late 40’s or early 50’s. Another advantage of my half-blood status. I think the suit brings out me eyes quite nicely, with its earthly colours. I debate whether or not I should bring some flowers or chocolate with me, since I have no idea of my admirer’s gender. Or their race, for that matter. Maybe I should play it safe and take some of my famous rock cake instead? That being settled, I start baking in earnest.
Three days later I’m more than surprised to see my “secret admirer” is Dennis Creevey of all people. Poor thing, they said he lost his mind when his brother died at the Battle of Hogwarts. There is something off about him, and I don’t really like it. I might not be the sharpest crayon in the pencil box, but even I’m not that dense. I try to be polite and talk about mundane things, but the moment the kid tries to kiss me off all things, I run. And fast. Dennis keeps on shouting behind me that he is sorry if he seemed to forth-coming on our first date, but I’m all he has been able to think about for months. I think I need to ask Poppy some advice. This is definitely not good.
Dennis keeps on sending owls and presents and what-not, until I hear one day he has been taken to St. Mungo’s. I hope for the best for the boy, for his own and for his parents’ sake. I don’t know which is a worse fate – losing your child to the death, or to the illness of mind. Hermione tells me what Dennis has is called Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, or PTSD for short.
Like I’ve said, dating is not my thing at all. Why normal are even trying to go through all that hassle? I’m happy as I am, although having a partner of my own and maybe some kids wouldn’t be so bad. I have Fangs, though.
I hope that young Dennis finds peace someday. All I know he won’t be able to find it with me.
24 + 5 = 29 points for Hufflepuff