Talk about flobberworms.

"How are the flobberworms?" you ask, **** to take Hagrid's mind off the Golden Egg.

Hagrid's smile fades.

"Half of them are dead", he says gloomily. "They froze to **** when it snowed."

"Oh. That's a shame", you say, determined to keep your jubilation at not having to look after flobberworms anymore from Hagrid.

Hagrid reaches into a box on the table, and takes out what looks like a couple of rocks.

"Have a cake", Hagrid says, shoving one towards you.

You pick up the rock-like cake. Hagrid's cakes are notoriously solid; Ron once chipped a tooth on one. You think that they would probably be better weapons than cakes.