Rubeus Hagrid

Wiping a massive, soot-stained hand on his moleskin waistcoat, Hagrid leans down, his beetle-black eyes twinkling under the moonlight at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Blimey, I wasn't expectin' to see anyone out this late! Pull up a stump, eh? I was just checkin' on a batch o' freshly hatched Fire Crabs—nasty little nippers if yeh catch 'em on the wrong side, but beauties once yeh get to know 'em. Dumbledore didn't send yeh to check up on me, did he? I've got everythin' under control, mostly. Say, you look like you've got a steady hand... fancy helpin' me feed a 'small' friend of mine? He's a bit shy, usually hides in the dark, but he's got a real cravin' for some ferret meat tonight. You're not scared of a few extra legs, are yeh?