A large group of people was bunched around the bulletin board when Harry and Ron returned to the common room after visiting Hagrid. I'd already read the new notice that had been posted; there was going to be another Hogsmeade visit.
"What d'you reckon?" Ron asked Harry quietly as they sat down near us. I glanced at Hermione where we sat, hidden behind her wall of books. She'd heard them, I could tell by her worried frown.
"Well, Filch hasn't done anything about the passage into Honeydukes..." Harry said, even more quietly.
"Harry!" said Hermione suddenly.
Harry started and looked around at her.
"Harry, if you go into Hogsmeade again... I'll tell Professor McGonagall about that map!" said Hermione. I tensed, waiting for Ron to react, which he did.
"Can you hear someone talking, Harry?" growled Ron, not looking at Hermione. I frowned, opening my mouth to defend Hermione, but she beat me to it.
"Ron, how can you let him go with you? After what Sirius Black nearly did to you! I mean it, I'll tell —"
"So now you're trying to get Harry expelled!" said Ron furiously. "Haven't you done enough damage this year?"
I stood up, ready to punch his lights out, but with a soft hiss, Crookshanks leapt onto her lap. Hermione took one frightened look at the expression on Ron's face, gathered up Crookshanks, and hurried away toward the girls' dormitories.
"So how about it?" Ron said to Harry as though there had been no interruption. "Come on, last time we went you didn't see anything. You haven't even been inside Zonko's yet!"
Harry looked at me nervously.
"I'm not telling anyone," I said. "But it's stupid how I'm able to stop myself from hitting this jerk," I pointed at Ron "When he can't keep his mouth from spewing garbage whenever Hermione's in the room. Considering you're friends--"
"Alright, we get it!" Ron snapped. "We've already had this conversation with Hagrid, thanks--"
"Then you should probably listen to him!" I shot back. "You've always complained about Scabbers, how he was boring, how he never did anything, and now that Crookshanks has killed him, you're all upset over him. You've made Hermione cry multiple times, and to be completely frank with you, if I were her, I'd rather hang out with Malfoy than you."
I decided that could probably shock them into place, but I was tired of having to defend Hermione from Ron, someone who was supposed to be nice to her. I wondered if I should've told on Harry, or at least stolen the map and hidden it so he couldn't use it, but that would shatter whatever trust he had in me if he found out, and I couldn't afford that, because he was being decent to Hermione.
I turned and went up the stairs to the girls' dormitory.
Hermione came into the dorm on Saturday, tears streaming down her face. She was holding a piece of parchment in her hands. Without speaking or replying to any of my questions about her state, she handed the paper to me.
The parchment was damp, and enormous teardrops had smudged the ink so badly in places that it was very difficult to read even with my contra-dyslexic glasses on.
Dear Hermione,
We lost. I'm allowed to bring him back to Hogwarts. Execution date to be fixed. Beaky has
enjoyed London.
I won't forget all the help you and Ash gave us.
Hagrid
"I can't believe he lost," I said.
"We should go and tell Harry and Ron," Hermione said, wiping her face. "They'll want to know."
When we came downstairs, we found Fred and George laughing with Lee Jordan.
"What's going on?" I wondered.
"Malfoy came back to the castle covered in smelly mud," George explained while Fred and Lee continued howling with laughter. "He's going around telling people he saw Harry's head by the Shrieking Shack."
"Harry's head?"
"Yeah, floating in midair."
So Harry had gone anyway. And Malfoy had seen him and probably told Snape about it, meaning Harry would probably get in trouble. Hermione and I slipped out of the portait hole and into the corridor where the security trolls were pacing. Harry and Ron were walking toward us.
"Come to have a good gloat?" said Ron savagely as we stopped in front of them. "Or have you just been to tell on us?"
"No," said Hermione, grabbing my arm to prevent me from jumping at Ron. She was holding a letter in her hands and her lip was trembling. "I just thought you ought to know... Hagrid lost his case. Buckbeak is going to be executed."
Their expressions changed immediately. It might've been funny if it weren't for the news.
"He sent me this," Hermione said, holding out the letter. Harry took it and read it, Ron scanning the paper over Harry's shoulder.
"They can't do this," said Harry. "They can't. Buckbeak isn't dangerous."
"Malfoy's dad's frightened the Committee into it," said Hermione, wiping her eyes. "You know what he's like. They're a bunch of doddery old fools, and they were scared. There'll be an appeal, though, there always is. Only I can't see any hope... Nothing will have changed."
"Yeah, it will," said Ron fiercely. "You won't have to do all the work alone this time, Hermione. I'll help."
"Oh, Ron!" Hermione flung her arms around Ron's neck and broke down completely. Ron, looking quite terrified, patted her very awkwardly on the top of the head. I exchanged an amused look with Harry, who seemed relieved that they weren't at each other's throats.
Finally, Hermione drew away. "Ron, I'm really, really sorry about Scabbers."
"Oh — well — he was old," said Ron, looking thoroughly relieved that she had let go of him. He glanced over at me, then back at Hermione. "And he was a bit useless. You never know, Mum and Dad might get me an owl now."
The safety measures imposed on the students since Black's second break-in made it impossible for us to go and visit Hagrid in the evenings. Our only chance of talking to him was during Care of Magical Creatures lessons.
He seemed numb with shock at the verdict. "S'all my fault. Got all tongue-tied. They was all sittin' there in black robes an' I kep' droppin' me notes and forgettin' all them dates yeh looked up fer me, Hermione. An' then Lucius Malfoy stood up an' said his bit, and the Committee jus' did exac'ly what he told 'em..."
"There's still the appeal!" said Ron fiercely. "Don't give up yet, we're working on it!"
We were walking back up to the castle with the rest of the class. Ahead I could see Malfoy, who was walking with Crabbe and Goyle, and kept looking back, laughing derisively. Oh, yes, he was just begging for someone to give him a good thwack.
"S'no good, Ron," said Hagrid sadly as they reached the castle steps. "That Committee's in Lucius Malfoy's pocket. I'm jus' gonna make sure the rest o' Beaky's time is the happiest he's ever had. I owe him that..." Hagrid turned around and hurried back toward his cabin, his face buried in his handkerchief.
"Look at him blubber!"
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had been standing just inside the castle doors, listening.
"Have you ever seen anything quite as pathetic?" said Malfoy. "And he's supposed to be our teacher!"
Harry and Ron both made furious moves toward Malfoy, and I opened my mouth to ask him if he really wanted me to drop-kick him, but Hermione got there first — SMACK!
She had slapped Malfoy across the face with all the strength she could muster. Malfoy staggered. Harry, Ron, Crabbe, Goyle, and I stood flabbergasted as Hermione raised her hand again.
"Don't you dare call Hagrid pathetic, you foul — you evil —"
"Hermione!" said Ron weakly, and he tried to grab her hand as she swung it back.
"No, stop," I said half-heartedly, but I was actually enjoying this.
"Get off, Ron!" Hermione pulled out her wand. Malfoy stepped backward. Crabbe and Goyle looked at him for instructions, thoroughly bewildered.
"Help!" He exclaimed, but they just stood there.
"Good idea," I said, and with one good sweep of the leg, he'd landed on his rear end on the floor. "Thanks for the suggestion."
"C'mon." Malfoy muttered, staggering up, and in a moment, all three of them had disappeared into the passageway to the dungeons.
"Hermione!" Ron said again, sounding both stunned and impressed.
"Harry, Ash, you'd better beat him in the Quidditch final!" Hermione said shrilly. "You just better had, because I can't stand it if Slytherin wins!"
"We're due in Charms," said Ron, still goggling at Hermione. "We'd better go."
We hurried up the marble staircase toward Professor Flitwick's classroom.
"You're late, boys!" said Professor Flitwick reprovingly as Harry opened the classroom door. "Come along, quickly, wands out, we're experimenting with Cheering Charms today, we've already divided into pairs —"
Harry and Ron hurried to a desk at the back and opened their bags. Ron looked behind him.
"Where's Hermione gone?"
Harry and looked around too. Hermione hadn't entered the classroom.
Oh.
I figured she'd probably just gone back an hour with her Time-Turner, but why wasn't she here? She should've come around earlier for Charms.
"That's weird," said Harry, staring at Ron. "Maybe — maybe she went to the bathroom or something?"
But Hermione didn't turn up all lesson.
"She could've done with a Cheering Charm on her too," said Ron as the class left for lunch, all grinning broadly — the Cheering Charms had left us with a feeling of great contentment.
Hermione wasn't at lunch either. By the time we'd had finished our apple pie, the after-effects of the Cheering Charms were wearing off, and we started to get slightly worried.
"You don't think Malfoy did something to her?" Ron said anxiously as they hurried upstairs toward Gryffindor Tower.
I frowned. "Doubt it, but if he has, he's going to beg me to drop-kick him again instead of what I'm going to do--"
"Okay, let's not get violent," Harry said with a nervous laugh.
We passed the security trolls, gave the Fat Lady the password ("Flibbertigibbet"), and scrambled through the portrait hole into the common room.
Hermione was sitting at a table, fast asleep, her head resting on an open Arithmancy book. We went to sit down on either side of her. Harry prodded her awake.
"Wh — what?" said Hermione, waking with a start and staring wildly around. "Is it time to go? W — which lesson have we got now?"
"Divination, but it's not for another twenty minutes," said Harry. "Hermione, why didn't you come to Charms?"
"What? Oh no!" Hermione squeaked. "I forgot to go to Charms!"
"But how could you forget?" said Harry. "You were with us till we were right outside the classroom!"
"I don't believe it!" Hermione wailed. "Was Professor Flitwick angry? Oh, it was Malfoy, I was thinking about him and I lost track of things!"
I glanced at Harry. "Technically he did do some--"
"No," Harry said. "Calm down."
"You know what, Hermione?" said Ron, looking down at the enormous Arithmancy book Hermione had been using as a pillow. "I reckon you're cracking up. You're trying to do too much."
"No, I'm not!" said Hermione, brushing her hair out of her eyes and staring hopelessly around for her bag. "I just made a mistake, that's all! I'd better go and see Professor Flitwick and say sorry... I'll see you in Divination!"
"I'll go with you in case we run into Malfoy," I decided.
"That might not..." Harry tried, but I gave him a look, and he said instead, "Hermione, don't let her do anything stupid."
Hermione smiled weakly, but nodded.
I stood outside the door to Flitwick's office, waiting for Hermione. She came out, looking greatly disappointed.
"I can't believe I missed Cheering Charms!" She exclaimed.
"I'll lend you my notes," I reassured her, "But what happened?"
"Well, I went back an hour to go to finish up my Arithmancy homework, but I guess I fell asleep and forgot I hadn't gone to Charms."
"Maybe Ron's right, for once. You're trying to do too much."
"No, I'm not," Hermione said, but she looked like she wasn't so sure herself.
"Look, Hermione," I stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You've signed up for every. Single. Class. That is a lot of homework and assignments and stuff. Even an Athena kid probably wouldn't take on that much."
"Athena," Hermione repeated. "That one's the wisdom goddess?"
"Wisdom and war, yes," I said. "Her kids are all really smart and hardworking. You'd get along with them. But nobody in their right mind would sign up for every. Single-"
"Every single class, I know." Hermione rolled her eyes, but she smiled anyway. "If it gets to be too much, I'll tell McGonagall. Don't worry."
We arrived at the silver ladder, and I was already dreading the following hour of guessing and making up "fortunes."
Together they climbed the ladder into the dim, stifling tower room. Glowing on every little table was a crystal ball full of pearly white mist. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down together at the same rickety table.
"I thought we weren't starting crystal balls until next term," Ron muttered, casting a wary eye around for Professor Trelawney, in case she was lurking nearby.
"Don't complain, this means we've finished palmistry," Harry muttered back. "I was getting sick of her flinching every time she looked at my hands."
"I think she might be sick of it, too," I whispered, causing Harry, Ron, and Hermione to burst into silent snickers.
"Good day to you!" said the familiar, misty voice, and Professor Trelawney made her usual dramatic entrance out of the shadows. Parvati and Lavender quivered with excitement, their faces lit by the milky glow of their crystal ball.
"I have decided to introduce the crystal ball a little earlier than I had planned," said Professor Trelawney, sitting with her back to the fire and gazing around. "The fates have informed me that your examination in June will concern the Orb, and I am anxious to give you sufficient practice."
Hermione snorted.
"Well, honestly... 'the fates have informed her'. Who sets the exam? She does! What an amazing prediction!" she said, not troubling to keep her voice low. Harry and Ron choked back laughs.
"Didn't know the fates gave out exam prophecies, too!" I whispered back to her. "Usually it's just prophecies for quests."
"She must be a demigod," Hermione said quietly.
"Daughter of the god of crystal balls," I replied, cracking up with her.
It was hard to tell whether Professor Trelawney had heard us as her face was hidden in shadow. She continued, however, as though she had not.
"Crystal gazing is a particularly refined art," she said dreamily. "I do not expect any of you to See when first you peer into the Orb's infinite depths. We shall start by practicing relaxing the conscious mind and external eyes —" Ron began to snigger uncontrollably and had to stuff his fist in his mouth to stifle the noise — "so as to clear the Inner Eye and the superconscious. Perhaps, if we are lucky, some of you will see before the end of the class."
And so we began. I stared at my crystal ball until I was red in the face, but nothing showed up except for random thoughts like "this is stupid" and "when will this be over." It didn't help that Ron kept breaking into silent giggles and Hermione kept tutting. I glanced over at Harry, who was staring blankly at his crystal ball.
"Seen anything yet?" Harry asked them after a quarter of an hour's quiet crystal gazing.
"Yeah, there's a burn on this table," said Ron, pointing. "Someone's spilled their candle."
"This is such a waste of time," Hermione hissed. "I could be practicing something useful. I could be catching up on Cheering Charms —"
Professor Trelawney rustled past. "Would anyone like me to help them interpret the shadowy portents within their Orb?" she murmured over the clinking of her bangles.
"I don't need help," Ron whispered. "It's obvious what this means. There's going to be loads of fog tonight."
Harry, Hermione, and I burst out laughing.
"Now, really!" said Professor Trelawney as everyone's heads turned in their direction. Parvati and Lavender were looking scandalized. "You are disturbing the clairvoyant vibrations!" She approached their table and peered into their crystal ball. Harry felt his heart sinking. He was sure he knew what was coming —
"There is something here!" Professor Trelawney whispered, lowering her face to the ball, so that it was reflected twice in her huge glasses. "Something moving... but what is it?"
I was prepared to bet everything I owned, including my Golden Arrow, that it wasn't good news, whatever it was. And sure enough —
"My dear," Professor Trelawney breathed, gazing up at Harry. "It is here, plainer than ever before... my dear, stalking toward you, growing ever closer... the Gr —"
"Oh, for goodness' sake!" said Hermione loudly. "Not that ridiculous Grim again!"
Professor Trelawney raised her enormous eyes to Hermione's face. Parvati whispered something to Lavender, and they both glared at Hermione too. Professor Trelawney stood up, surveying Hermione with unmistakable anger.
"I am sorry to say that from the moment you have arrived in this class my dear, it has been apparent that you do not have what the noble art of Divination requires. Indeed, I don't remember ever meeting a student whose mind was so hopelessly mundane."
I stared at the scene, glancing between Hermione and Trelawney. There was a moment's silence. Then —
"Fine!" said Hermione suddenly, getting up and cramming Unfogging the Future back into her bag. "Fine!" she repeated, swinging the bag over her shoulder and almost knocking Ron off his chair. "I give up! I'm leaving!"
And to the whole class's amazement, Hermione strode over to the trapdoor, kicked it open, and climbed down the ladder out of sight.
It took a few minutes for the class to settle down again. Professor Trelawney seemed to have forgotten all about the Grim. She turned abruptly from Harry and Ron's table, breathing rather heavily as she tugged her gauzy shawl more closely to her.
"Ooooo!" said Lavender suddenly, making everyone start. "Ooooo, Professor Trelawney, I've just remembered! You saw her leaving, didn't you? Didn't you, Professor? 'Around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever!' You said it ages ago, Professor!"
Professor Trelawney gave her a dewy smile. "Yes, my dear, I did indeed know that Miss Granger would be leaving us. One hopes, however, that one might have mistaken the Signs... The Inner Eye can be a burden, you know..."
Lavender and Parvati looked deeply impressed, and moved over so that Professor Trelawney could join their table instead.
"Some day Hermione's having, eh?" Ron muttered, looking awed.
"Yeah..."
Harry glanced into the crystal ball but saw nothing but swirling white mist, and I could tell he was wondering about the Grim.
"Look," I said. "Trelawney's predictions are all just a load of crap. Real Divination is nothing like this, believe me."
"How do you know?" Harry asked.
Crap. I searched for an answer that would sound believable enough and not far enough from the truth that it would seem like lying.
"My dad dabbles in that stuff," I told him. "From what I've seen him do, this is nothing like real Divination."
Harry nodded and proceeded me through the trapdoor and down the ladder. I sighed quietly in relief and looked around. Trelawney was gazing at me like I was a particularly interesting TV show. Slightly creeped out, I turned and followed Harry out.
The Easter holidays were not exactly relaxing. The third years had never had so much homework. Neville Longbottom seemed close to a nervous collapse, and he wasn't the only one.
"Call this a holiday!" Seamus Finnigan roared at the common room one afternoon. "The exams are ages away, what're they playing at?"
"It's obvious," I said, lying exhausted on the couch opposite his with Jab on my lap and Harry and Ron sitting on either side, scribbling notes for assignments. "Each of the teachers have taken a Confundus Charm to the head and all believe their class is the only one that exists."
Seamus seemed to agree with me, and he shook his head forcefully as he returned to the Charms homework he was doing.
But nobody had as much to do as Hermione. Even without Divination, she was taking more subjects than anybody else. She was usually last to leave the common room at night, first to arrive at the library the next morning; she had shadows like Lupin's under her eyes, and seemed constantly close to tears.
Ron had taken over responsibility for Buckbeak's appeal. When he wasn't doing his own work, he was poring over enormously thick volumes with names like The Handbook of Hippogriff Psychology and Fowl or Foul? A Study of Hippogriff Brutality. He was so absorbed, he even forgot to be horrible to Crookshanks.
Harry and I, meanwhile, had to fit in homework around Quidditch practice every day, not to mention endless discussions of tactics with Wood. The Gryffindor-Slytherin match would take place on the first Saturday after the Easter holidays. Slytherin was leading the tournament by exactly two hundred points. This meant (as Wood constantly reminded the team) that we needed to win the match by more than that amount to win the Cup. It also meant that the burden of winning fell largely on Harry, because capturing the Snitch was worth one hundred and fifty points.
"So you must catch it only if we're more than fifty points up," Wood told Harry constantly. I was glad I wasn't him; the only reminders us Chasers were getting were to use such-such technique if such-and-such happened. "Only if we're more than fifty points up, Harry, or we win the match but lose the Cup. You've got that, Haven't you? You must catch the Snitch only if we're —"
"I KNOW, OLIVER!" Harry yelled.
The whole of Gryffindor House was obsessed with the coming match. Gryffindor hadn't won the Quidditch Cup since the legendary Charlie Weasley (Ron's second oldest brother) had been Seeker. But Harry doubted whether any of them, even Wood, wanted to win as much as he did. The enmity between Harry and Malfoy was at its highest point ever. Malfoy was still smarting about the mud-throwing incident in Hogsmeade and was even more furious that Harry had somehow wormed his way out of punishment. Harry hadn't forgotten Malfoy's attempt to sabotage him in the match against Ravenclaw, but it was the matter of Buckbeak that made him most determined to beat Malfoy in front of the entire school.
Never, in anyone's memory, had a match approached in such a highly charged atmosphere. By the time the holidays were over, tension between the two teams and their Houses was at the breaking point. A number of small scuffles broke out in the corridors, culminating in a nasty incident in which a Gryffindor fourth year and a Slytherin sixth year ended up in the hospital wing with leeks sprouting out of their ears.
Harry was having a particularly bad time of it. He couldn't walk to class without Slytherins sticking out their legs and trying to trip him up; Crabbe and Goyle kept popping up wherever he went, and slouching away looking disappointed when they saw him surrounded by people. Wood had given instructions that Harry should be accompanied everywhere he went, in case the Slytherins tried to put him out of action. The whole of Gryffindor House took up the challenge enthusiastically, so that it was impossible for Harry to get to classes on time because he was surrounded by a vast, chattering crowd. Harry was more concerned for his Firebolt's safety than his own. When he wasn't flying it, he locked it securely in his trunk and frequently dashed back up to Gryffindor Tower at break times to check that it was still there.
All usual pursuits were abandoned in the Gryffindor common room the night before the match. Even Hermione had put down her books.
"I can't work, I can't concentrate," she said nervously.
There was a great deal of noise. Fred and George Weasley were dealing with the pressure by being louder and more exuberant than ever. Oliver Wood was crouched over a model of a Quidditch field in the corner, prodding little figures across it with his wand and muttering to himself Angelina, Alicia, and Katie were laughing at Fred's and George's jokes. Harry was
sitting with Ron and Hermione, removed from the center of things, trying not to think about the next day, because every time he did, he had the horrible sensation that something very large was fighting to get out of his stomach.
"You're going to be fine," Hermione told him, though she looked positively terrified.
"You've got a Firebolt!" said Ron.
"Forget the Firebolt," I said, rolling my eyes. "You're a freaking great Seeker. Now stop worrying."
"Yeah..." said Harry nervously.
It came as a relief when Wood suddenly stood up and yelled, "Team! Bed!"
And here we have this freshly squeezed chapter, edited but still kind of eh.
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