Hagrid slammed shut the door only to return a moment later when he forgot the spell book. He’d learned it especially for Grawp. This particular charm changed all language spoken and heard in a designated area to one universal dialect. This way he could talk to his half-brother more easily than usual.

Slamming his door being him for the second time, Hagrid took off for the Forbidden Forest. He swayed back and forth as he made his way through the woods and could hear Grawp’s mewling from twenty feet away. It was more growling and loud moaning than mewling, but to the half-giant it was nothing more than a lonely child’s whimpering.

"’Ow ‘ya doin’ there, Grawpy?" he patted him softly and giving him a soft kiss. His head lingered there for as long as possible before the giant became agitated.

"’Aggy," Grawp grunted in amusement.

"S’right, I’m ‘ere. Wait’ll yeh ‘ear this!" Hagrid pulled his wand-turned-umbrella from inside his bulky fur coat,

"Linguaoso," he roared.

For a split second he felt as if he’d jumped into deep water and all sound was blocked out, but soon after he resumed hearing. "Hagrid, what's happened?"

The half-giant stared at his brother in shock and pride, his spell had worked. "Can ‘ya understan’ me? Can 'ya hear what I’m sayin’?"

"I can," Grawp said, in a voice that led Hagrid to believe he was as shocked as himself.

"Okay, listen ‘ta this, yeh’ll love it! Up with ‘ta sun, ‘ta breeze arose, across the talkin’ corn she goes, an’ smooth she rustles far an’ wide through all the voiceful countryside. 'S a lil' bedtime story, I thought you'd like. It’s Stevenson, ‘bout ‘ta breeze in England. ‘Slike nothing else, England is; truly amazin’ place. Don’ ‘ya think?"

"It is very nice, better than home," Grawp mumbled in reply. "I miss home sometimes, though."

"’Ya wan'ta go back?" Hagrid said tentatively, hoping for the answer he wanted.

"Yes and no. I miss my friends, but going back wouldn’t make things better. With the Dark Lord swaying half my clan, I don’t think I’d be welcome. Besides, I think you’re attached to me. You care about me, correct?" Grawp spoke very slowly and nearly all monotonously.

"I do. I love yeh, Grawpy."

"It’s Gregory, actually, but I enjoy your nickname better," the giant smiled. "It’s odd how things work out, isn’t it?"

"It is," Hagrid grinned. "Finite Incantum, good night."

"Grood kyegt," Grawp grumbled, incoherent again. Hagrid spared him one more fond glance and turned back into the dark night.