Thursday, September 30, 1993
(Harry Potter)
Every Thursday after lunch, without fail, the three of us found ourselves walking toward the same place. The path that led away from the castle sloped gently downward, the stones worn smooth by centuries of students' footsteps, and the air always seemed cooler the closer we got to the Forbidden Forest. Even on clear days, the trees loomed dark and dense ahead, their branches tangled together like they were whispering secrets meant to stay hidden.
The sky above was a dull, washed-out gray, the kind that made everything feel heavier than it should. A cold breeze slipped under my robes, raising goosebumps along my arms.
I glanced sideways at Ron and Hermione as we walked, their voices blending with the crunch of gravel beneath our shoes. Something had been bothering me all morning, that familiar tight feeling in my chest that usually meant trouble wasn't far away.
"You know?" I said suddenly.
They both looked at me.
"After losing the connection to Voldemort," I went on, shoving my hands deeper into my pockets, "I really thought my school years would finally be normal." I let out a short, humorless laugh. "But no. That was wishful thinking. Now I've got an escaped convict supposedly after me, and those stupid Dementors circling the school." I shuddered involuntarily. "They give me the creeps."
Ron grimaced, pulling his robes closer around himself. "Yeah, they're horrible," he agreed. "All floaty and dead-looking." Then, after a second, he shrugged. "But honestly, if nothing dangerous was happening, it'd feel like something was missing, wouldn't it?"
Hermione shot him a sharp look.
"What I'm actually worried about," Ron continued, ignoring her, "is Scabbers. He's been acting really strange these last few weeks." He frowned, brow creasing. "He's slower, doesn't seem half as smart, and he doesn't even answer to his name anymore."
Hermione adjusted the strap of her book bag on her shoulder, her tone instantly turning practical. "Ron, he's a common garden rat. They're not meant to live longer than five years."
Ron blinked. "What?"
"They're not," she repeated firmly. "And how long has Scabbers been in your family? You told me Percy had him before you."
Ron did some mental counting, his ears reddening slightly. "More than ten years," he admitted. "Blimey… maybe you're right."
Then he brightened a little and added, "On the bright side, even your evil cat seems to have noticed something's wrong with Scabbers. It has finally stopped trying to eat him. At least now Scabbers won't get eaten before his time comes."
Hermione stopped walking and spun on him. "Crookshanks is not evil," she said sharply. "It's perfectly normal for cats to chase rats, Ron."
I watched them start bickering, Ron gesturing wildly while Hermione crossed her arms and glared up at him. I couldn't help smiling faintly. After three years of this, I'd learned one important rule: once those two started arguing, it was safer to stay out of it entirely.
The forest edge drew closer, the shadows beneath the trees thick and unmoving. Ahead, the clearing opened up, revealing our classroom.
When we arrived, it was clear we were late again.
The Slytherins were already gathered together, several of them casting smug looks in our direction. Ravenclaws stood nearby, calm and orderly as always, while most of the Hufflepuffs were already in place, chatting quietly among themselves.
As usual, Gryffindor had arrived last.
I sighed quietly, adjusting my glasses as we joined the rest of our house, the forest looming behind us like it was watching.
…
(Gilderoy Lockhart)
I stood beside Hagrid near the edge of the clearing, the grass damp beneath our boots and the Forbidden Forest looming dark and watchful behind us. A cool breeze carried the earthy scent of leaves, feathers, and something sharp and animal that told me our guests were already nearby.
The last few students trickled in, Gryffindors hurrying to catch up with their peers, some glancing nervously toward the trees.
"Good afternoon, everyone," I called pleasantly, clapping my hands once to draw their attention. A few students straightened instinctively; others exchanged wary looks.
Hagrid shifted beside me, practically vibrating with excitement. He leaned in for what must have been the third time in five minutes. "Yeh sure they're ready, Professor?"
I smiled, indulgent. "At your repeated requests, Hagrid, I've decided today we have a little treat for you all." A ripple of interest passed through the group. "I do believe you're prepared enough for it."
A few Slytherins snorted skeptically.
"But," I added, my tone sharpening just slightly, "you must listen to the instructions very carefully. And do not try anything stupid." My eyes slid pointedly to one pale-blond head near the back. "I'm looking at you, Mr. Malfoy."
Draco stiffened.
"After being attacked by both a Niffler and a Bowtruckle," I continued mildly, "I trust you've learned your lesson about insulting magical creatures."
Hagrid looked positively giddy now, his grin stretching so wide it nearly split his beard in two.
"Go on then, Hagrid," I said, gesturing grandly. "You may bring them in."
The chains clanked loudly as Hagrid dragged them forward, the metallic sound echoing against the trees. What emerged from the forest made several students take an instinctive step back.
Massive creatures strode into view, feathers gleaming with a metallic sheen in the daylight, powerful hindquarters like those of horses, talons curling into the earth with every step. Their hooked beaks clicked softly, eyes sharp and intelligent as they surveyed the crowd.
I felt the tension ripple through the students like a held breath.
"Now then," I said calmly, as if we weren't standing in front of something that could disembowel a careless child in seconds. "Who can tell me what these magnificent creatures are?"
Hermione's hand shot up immediately.
"Yes, Miss…" I began, but.
"Hippogriffs, Professor!" Seamus Finnigan blurted out.
I nodded approvingly. "Correct, Mr. Finnigan. Two points to Gryffindor." I gave him a look. "But next time, do remember to raise your hand."
Hermione glared at Seamus with the intensity of someone mentally listing possible hexes.
"And do be careful," I added lightly, "Miss Granger looks as though she might retaliate."
Hermione flushed bright pink and quickly looked away. Seamus gulped audibly. A few students chuckled.
Hagrid began unfastening the chains, murmuring soothingly as the Hippogriffs were released one by one. They stretched their wings, feathers rustling like wind through leaves, then broke into a powerful run across the paddock, hooves thundering, wings beating until the ground itself seemed to tremble.
Hagrid led one forward, his pride unmistakable. "This here's Buckbeak," he announced.
Buckbeak lifted his head regally, feathers ruffling, fixing the class with a sharp, assessing stare.
"Would anyone like to greet him?" Hagrid asked hopefully.
I stepped forward smoothly. "Allow me to demonstrate."
I turned to the class. "Hippogriffs are proud creatures. They demand respect. You must bow to them, maintain eye contact, and under no circumstances act fearful or insulting."
I approached Buckbeak slowly, aware of every movement, every shift of muscle beneath his feathers. I bowed deeply and respectfully, never breaking his gaze.
A tense second passed.
Then Buckbeak bowed back.
A collective gasp rippled through the class.
I straightened and gently ran my hand along his neck, Buckbeak making a pleased, trilling sound. Applause broke out, scattered but sincere.
"All right," I said brightly. "Who wants to try first?"
Every student took a step backward.
I sighed. "Very well. Mr. Malfoy. You're first."
Draco's face drained of color. He pointed at himself. "Me?"
"Yes, you," I replied dryly. "Do you see another Malfoy hiding in the shrubbery?"
Swallowing hard, Draco stepped forward. Buckbeak shifted, wings lifting slightly, sensing his fear.
"Now, Mr. Malfoy," I said calmly, "don't show your fear so openly. You need to appear confident, but not arrogant. Respectful, but not submissive." I nodded. "Yes, that's better. Now bow. Maintain eye contact." I leaned closer. "And for the love of Merlin, do not say anything insulting that might land you in the hospital wing."
Draco bowed stiffly.
Buckbeak hesitated… then bowed back.
"Well done, Mr. Malfoy," I said approvingly.
Hagrid beamed and stepped forward. "Looks like he'll let yeh ride him."
Before Draco could protest, Hagrid lifted him effortlessly and placed him atop Buckbeak's back.
"Is-is it safe?" Draco asked, white-knuckled.
"Just don't pull his feathers too hard," I said cheerfully. "And do enjoy the ride."
Hagrid gave Buckbeak a gentle slap on the flank.
The Hippogriff broke into a gallop, wings spreading wide before beating powerfully. With a rush of wind and a terrified scream, Buckbeak lifted into the air, Draco clinging desperately as they soared above the paddock.
I turned to the class with a grin. "Doesn't that look fun?"
Neville raised a trembling hand. "Um… Professor? Malfoy doesn't look like he's having fun."
I ignored that entirely. "Right then! Everyone line up. You'll each take turns greeting the Hippogriffs."
Hagrid hovered close, just as I'd instructed earlier, ready to intervene if anything went wrong.
As the students shuffled nervously forward, feathers rustling and talons scraping the earth, I folded my hands behind my back, quite pleased with how smoothly things were going.
So far, at least.
…