The keeper of the keys

The keeper of the keys and grounds,
Digging his vegetable patch and creating huge mounds.
Behind lies his cottage with it's single, cosy room
And next to it's chimney, hangs a beautiful crescent moon.
With fang the boar hound at his heels,
Hagrid troops inside for his evening meal.
Just then a knock on the wide, wooden door,
Too used to the three visitors, he doesn't have to guess anymore.
Beef casserole, rock cakes and a cup of steaming tea.
Hagrid's cooking might be terrible, but no one impolite wants to be.
So by the warm fireplace they sit,
Next to the bed with a patchwork quilt
And recount stories of the past:
When Hagrid came to fetch Harry, and the spell on Dudley he had cast
Which gave him a pig's tail and his parents a fright,
When Norbert came out of his egg and set Hagrid's beard alight.
And how he sent the Norwegian ridgeback to Romania with a teddy bear,
When Hagrid befriended a giant spider, from whom most people would run from fear.
Fluffy the three -headed , giant, slobbering dog
And all the fierce descendants of Aragog.
Buckbeak, the stormy-grey hippogriff most proud,
And blast-ended skrewts with their bangs and bursts most loud.
And eventually Grawp, Hagrid's half-brother,
Just like Hagrid, abandoned by fridwulfa, their mother.
For the night, there end all the stories,
It's time for the three to go back to their dormitories.
And for Hagrid to lie down on his bed,
To dream of Madame Maxime and creatures most people dread.