The euphoria at finally winning the Quidditch Cup lasted at least a week. Even the weather seemed to be celebrating. As June approached, the days became cloudless and sultry, and all anybody felt like doing was strolling onto the grounds and flopping down on the grass with several pints of iced pumpkin juice, perhaps playing a casual game of Gobstones or watching the giant squid propel itself dreamily across the surface of the lake.
But we couldn't. Exams were nearly upon us, and instead of lazing around outside, the students were forced to remain inside the castle, trying to bully our brains into concentrating while enticing wafts of summer air drifted in through the windows. Even Fred and George Weasley had been spotted working; they were about to take their O.W.L.s. Percy was getting ready to take his N.E.W.T.s, the highest qualification Hogwarts offered. As Percy hoped to enter the Ministry of Magic, he needed top grades. He was becoming increasingly edgy, and gave very severe punishments to anybody who disturbed the quiet of the common room in the evenings.
In fact, the only person who seemed more anxious than Percy was Hermione.
Harry and Ron had given up asking her how she was managing to attend several classes at once, but they couldn't restrain themselves when they saw the exam schedule she had drawn up for herself. Even I had to admit it looked a bit strange. I thought it would've been easier for her to just keep these reminders where Harry and Ron wouldn't be able to see them.
The first column read:
Monday
9 o'clock, Arithmancy
9 o'clock, Transfiguration
Lunch
1 o'clock, Charms
1 o'clock, Ancient Runes
"Hermione?" Ron said cautiously, because she was liable to explode when interrupted these days. "Er — are you sure you've copied down these times right?"
"What?" snapped Hermione, picking up the exam schedule and examining it. "Yes, of course I have."
"Is there any point asking how you're going to sit for two exams at once?" said Harry.
"No," said Hermione shortly. "Have either of you seen my copy of Numerology and Gramatica?"
"Oh, yeah, I borrowed it for a bit of bedtime reading," said Ron, but very quietly. Hermione started shifting heaps of parchment.
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I had plenty of opportunity to speak to Hagrid.
"Beaky's gettin' a bit depressed," Hagrid told them, bending low on the pretense of checking that Harry's flobberworm was still alive. "Bin cooped up too long. But still... we'll know day after tomorrow — one way or the other —"
We had Potions that afternoon, which was an unqualified disaster. Try as Harry might, he couldn't get his Confusing Concoction to thicken, and Snape, standing watch with an air of vindictive pleasure, scribbled something that looked suspiciously like a zero onto his notes before moving away.
Then came Astronomy at midnight, up on the tallest tower; History of Magic on Wednesday morning, in which I scribbled everything Florean Fortescue had ever told Harry and I about medieval witch-hunts, while wishing I could have had one of Fortescue's choconut sundaes with me in the stifling classroom. Wednesday afternoon meant Herbology, in the greenhouses under a baking-hot sun; then back to the common room once more, with sunburnt necks, thinking longingly of this time next day, when it would all be over.
Our second to last exam, on Thursday morning, was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Lupin had compiled the most unusual exam any of us had ever taken; a sort of obstacle course outside in the sun, where we had to wade across a deep paddling pool containing a Grindylow, cross a series of potholes full of Red Caps, squish their way across a patch of marsh while ignoring misleading directions from a Hinkypunk, then climb into an old trunk and battle with a
new Boggart.
"Excellent, Harry," Lupin muttered as Harry climbed out of the trunk, grinning. "Full marks."
I did quite well with my exam, so Harry and I hung around to watch Ron and Hermione. Ron did very well until he reached the Hinkypunk, which successfully confused him into sinking waist-high into the quagmire. Hermione did everything perfectly until she reached the trunk with the Boggart in it. After about a minute inside it, she burst out again, screaming.
"Hermione!" said Lupin, startled. "What's the matter?"
"P-P-Professor McGonagall!" Hermione gasped, pointing into the trunk. "Sh-she said I'd failed everything!"
It took a little while to calm Hermione down. When at last she had regained a grip on herself, she, Harry, and Ron went back to the castle. Ron was still slightly inclined to laugh at Hermione's Boggart, but an argument was averted by the sight that met them on the top of the steps.
Cornelius Fudge, sweating slightly in his pinstriped cloak, was standing there staring out at the grounds. He started at the sight of Harry.
"Hello there, Harry!" he said. "Just had an exam, I expect? Nearly finished?"
"Yes," said Harry. Hermione and Ron, not being on speaking terms with the Minister of Magic, hovered awkwardly in the background.
"Lovely day," said Fudge, casting an eye over the lake. "Pity... pity..." He sighed deeply and looked down at Harry. "I'm here on an unpleasant mission, Harry. The Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures required a witness to the execution of a mad Hippogriff. As I needed to visit Hogwarts to check on the Black situation, I was asked to step in."
"Does that mean the appeal's already happened?" Ron interrupted, stepping forward.
"No, no, it's scheduled for this afternoon," said Fudge, looking curiously at Ron.
"Then you might not have to witness an execution at all!" said Ron stoutly. "The Hippogriff might get off!"
Before Fudge could answer, two wizards came through the castle doors behind him. One was so ancient he appeared to be withering before their very eyes; the other was tall and strapping, with a thin back mustache. I gathered that they were representatives of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, because the very old wizard squinted toward Hagrid's cabin and said in a feeble voice, "Dear, dear, I'm getting too old for this... Two o'clock, isn't it, Fudge?"
The black-mustached man was fingering something in his belt; I looked and saw that he was running one broad thumb along the blade of a shining axe.
I hope you cut yourself with it, I thought bitterly at the man.
Ron opened his mouth to say something, but Hermione nudged him hard in the ribs and jerked her head toward the entrance hall.
"Why'd you stop me?" said Ron angrily as they entered the Great Hall for lunch. "Did you see
them? They've even got the axe ready! This isn't justice!"
"Ron, your dad works for the Ministry, you can't go saying things like that to his boss!" said Hermione, but she too looked very upset. "As long as Hagrid keeps his head this time, and argues his case properly, they can't possibly execute Buckbeak..."
But Harry could tell Hermione didn't really believe what she was saying. All around them, people were talking excitedly as they ate their lunch, happily anticipating the end of the exams that afternoon, but Harry, Ron, and Hermione, lost in worry about Hagrid and Buckbeak, didn't join in.
Harry's and Ron's last exam was Divination; Hermione's, Muggle Studies. They walked up the marble staircase together; Hermione left them on the first floor and Harry, Ron, and I proceeded all the way up to the seventh, where many of their class were sitting on the spiral staircase to Professor Trelawney's classroom, trying to cram in a bit of last-minute studying.
"She's seeing us all separately," Neville informed them as they went to sit down next to him. He had his copy of Unfogging the Future open on his lap at the pages devoted to crystal gazing.
"Have either of you ever seen anything in a crystal ball?" he asked them unhappily.
"Nope," said Ron in an offhand voice. He kept checking his watch; Harry knew that he was counting down the time until Buckbeak's appeal started.
The line of people outside the classroom shortened very slowly. As each person climbed back down the silver ladder, the rest of the class hissed, "What did she ask? Was it okay?"
But they all refused to say.
"She says the crystal ball's told her that if I tell you, I'll have a horrible accident!" squeaked Neville as he clambered back down the ladder toward Harry and Ron, who had now reached the landing.
"That's convenient," I snorted.
Ron agreed. "You know, I'm starting to think Hermione was right about her" — he jabbed his thumb toward the trapdoor overhead — "she's a right old fraud."
"Yeah," said Harry, looking at his own watch. It was now two o'clock. "Wish she'd hurry up..." Parvati came back down the ladder glowing with pride.
"She says I've got all the makings of a true Seer," she informed Harry and Ron. "I saw loads of stuff... Well, good luck!"
Ron went next, then me. Harry was the last one to have his exam.
Ron and I found Hermione in the common room, poring over a book, when an owl soared through the window and dropped off a letter on top of Hermione's book. She opened it at once and started to sob.
"What is it?" I asked, and she handed the letter to me. I squinted at the letter. it was obviously Hagrid's handwriting, but it was messy and smudged with tears. "I'm sorry, I cannot read this."
Ron snatched it to me and read, "Lost appeal. They're going to execute at sunset. Nothing you can do. Don't come down. I don't want you to see it."
I didn't have the sensitivity to cry, but I wished I did. This was so unfair for Buckbeak, and Hagrid. And it was all Malfoy's fault. If they were going to execute Buckbeak, I wanted Malfoy to pay for it.
"I'll be right back," I muttered. I hurried up to the boys' dormitory and found Harry's Marauders' Map. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." The ink spread across the page and told me exactly what I needed to know: that Malfoy was alone in the library. I decided to leave the map in case Harry needed it. "Mischief Managed." I stuffed the map back in Harry's trunk and headed back down, ignoring Hermione and Ron's questions as I slipped out of the portrait hole in pursuit of Malfoy.
"I'm surprised," I said when I found him in a chair, reading a book on Transfiguration. "Shouldn't you be on the grounds, laughing your head off about how Buckbeak is going to die?"
Malfoy looked up and smirked. "The appeal's already happened, then?"
"Obviously. And I bet even a complete idiot like you can figure out how it went."
"I'd expected you to be in tears by now, McKeon."
"I don't cry often. Sorry to disappoint you." I stared him down for a good minute and a half before asking, "How did you become such a jerk?"
Malfoy raised an eyebrow.
"I've seen lots of people go from sweet to complete bullies, and there's always some sort of trigger. Some occurrence. It doesn't even have to be very long, but it changes them. They do a full one-eighty. And there's still some hope to that, because if they can change like that, they could do it again. So what made you change?"
"I don't know what you're on about," Malfoy sneered, but I could tell he was thinking about it a little. "Is that all you've come here to say?"
"Actually, I came here to beat you up," I said bluntly, and there was a flash of fear in his eyes. "I'm not going to, though. Even if I hate your guts, I have to be the better person."
"All in a day's work for a hero, isn't it?" Malfoy said.
That's when I was positive he knew.
Maybe I should've been worried. Maybe I should've dragged him to Dumbledore and screamed at him to erase Malfoy's memories. But I realized that if he was planning to tell someone, he would've done so by now.
So I just shrugged. "Guess so." I relished the disappointment that registered on his face.
"Ash!" I turned around and spotted Harry, Ron, and Hermione rushing in. Harry must've finished his exam and gotten the news. He also must've known where I'd gone thanks to the map. Madam Pince hissed at them to be quiet. They stopped running and muttered hurried apologies. Ron bent in half, panting.
"You think you're going to make it?" I asked him sardonically.
"We thought you would've murdered Malfoy by now," Harry said.
"Tempting, but no." I turned to Malfoy. "This is called mercy. It probably won't happen a second time, especially if you're intent on continuing to be a prick."
"You should probably listen to her, Malfoy," Ron said. "We thought you'd be on the floor, no bone unbroken with Ash standing over you as you screamed for mercy."
"Like father, like daughter," said Malfoy.
Ron tried to lunge at him, but I held him back. I gave Malfoy the creepiest smile I could and said, "Exactly like father, like daughter." Then I jerked towards him, and he leapt straight up with a small yelp. I laughed with my friends as he stalked out of the library.
"That was great, Ash!" Ron laughed.
Then I remembered the reason I'd come after Malfoy in the first place and the smile slipped off my face. "What are we going to do about Buckbeak?"
All three of their smiles disappeared, too.
"We've got to go," said Harry at once. "He can't just sit there on his own, waiting for the executioner!"
"Sunset, though," said Ron. "We'd never be allowed... 'specially you, Harry..."
Harry sank his head into his hands, thinking. "If we only had the Invisibility Cloak..."
"Where is it?" I asked. Harry told me about leaving it in the passageway under the one-eyed witch.
"... if Snape sees me anywhere near there again, I'm in serious trouble," he finished.
"That's true," I said. "If he sees you... How do you open the witch's hump again?"
"You — you tap it and say, 'Dissendium,'" said Harry. "But —"
I didn't wait for the rest of his sentence; I hurried out of the library and headed for the one-eyed witch, I figured it was the least I could do, especially since I'd used the map without Harry's permission. I tapped the hump and muttered, "Dissendium." I gasped as a hole opened. Sure enough, there was Harry's cloak. I stuffed it in my bag and got out of there before anyone could find me. Then I returned to the library and handed Harry his cloak.
"Wow, thanks," Harry said before stuffing the cloak down his shirt.
We went down to dinner with everybody else, but didn't return to Gryffindor Tower afterward. Harry had the cloak hidden down the front of his robes; he had to keep his arms folded to hide the lump. We skulked in an empty chamber off the entrance hall, listening, until they were sure it was deserted. We heard a last pair of people hurrying across the hall and a door slamming.
Hermione poked her head around the door. "Okay," she whispered, "no one there — cloak on —"
Walking very close together so that nobody would see us, we crossed the hall on tiptoe beneath the cloak, then walked down the stone front steps into the grounds. The sun was already sinking behind the Forbidden Forest, gilding the top branches of the trees. We continued to Hagrid's cabin. I heard Buckbeak padding around behind the hut.
We reached Hagrid's cabin and knocked. He was a minute in answering, and when he did, he looked all around for his visitor, pale-faced and trembling.
"It's us," Harry hissed. "We're wearing the Invisibility Cloak. Let us in and we can take it off."
"Yeh shouldn've come!" Hagrid whispered, but he stood back, and we stepped inside. Hagrid shut the door quickly and Harry pulled off the cloak.
Hagrid wasn't crying, nor did he throw himself upon their necks. He looked like a man who didn't know where he was or what to do. This helplessness was worse to watch than tears.
"Wan' some tea?" he said. His great hands were shaking as he reached for the kettle.
"Where's Buckbeak, Hagrid?" said Hermione hesitantly.
"I — I took him outside," said Hagrid, spilling milk all over the table as he filled up the jug. "He's tethered in me pumpkin patch. Thought he oughta see the trees an' — an' smell fresh air — before —"
Hagrid's hand trembled so violently that the milk jug slipped from his grasp and shattered all over the floor.
"I'll do it, Hagrid," said Hermione quickly, hurrying over and starting to clean up the mess.
"I'll help," I said, joining her.
"There's another one in the cupboard," Hagrid said, sitting down and wiping his forehead on his sleeve. I saw Harry glance at Ron, who looked back hopelessly.
"Isn't there anything anyone can do, Hagrid?" Harry asked fiercely, sitting down next to him. "Dumbledore —"
"He's tried," said Hagrid. "He's got no power ter overrule the Committee. He told 'em Buckbeak's all right, but they're scared... Yeh know what Lucius Malfoy's like... threatened 'em, I expect... an' the executioner, Macnair, he's an old pal o' Malfoy's... but it'll be quick an' clean... an' I'll be beside him..."
Hagrid swallowed. His eyes were darting all over the cabin as though looking for some shred of
hope or comfort.
"Dumbledore's gonna come down while it — while it happens. Wrote me this mornin'. Said he wants ter — ter be with me. Great man, Dumbledore..."
Hermione, who had been rummaging in Hagrid's cupboard for another milk jug, let out a small, quickly stifled sob. She straightened up with the new jug in her hands, fighting back tears. I took the jug from her. I still couldn't bring myself to tears.
I don't know why it was so hard to cry. Lots of people I know will cry whenever a dog dies in a movie, and I'll think it's sad, too, but I won't cry. Chiron always said it just takes a lot to get me to cry, which was a good thing: it meant I was strong. But I wanted to show Hagrid that I was worried for Buckbeak, too.
"We'll stay with you too, Hagrid," I began, but Hagrid shook his shaggy head.
"Yeh're ter go back up ter the castle. I told yeh, I don' wan' yeh watchin'. An' yeh shouldn' be down here anyway... If Fudge an' Dumbledore catch yeh out without permission, Harry, yeh'll be in big trouble. An' you, too, Aisling."
Silent tears were now streaming down Hermione's face, but she hid them from Hagrid, bustling around making tea. Then, as she picked up the milk bottle to pour some into the jug, she let out a shriek.
I darted over and gasped. "Ron, I don't believe it — it's Scabbers!"
Ron gaped at us. "What are you talking about?"
Hermione carried the milk jug over to the table, followed closely by me, and turned it upside down. With a frantic squeak, and much scrambling to get back inside, Scabbers the rat came sliding out onto the table.
"Scabbers!" said Ron blankly. "Scabbers, what are you doing here?" He grabbed the struggling rat and held him up to the light.
Scabbers looked dreadful. He was thinner than ever, large tufts of hair had fallen out leaving wide bald patches, and he writhed in Ron's hands as though desperate to free himself.
"It's okay, Scabbers!" said Ron. "No cats! There's nothing here to hurt you!"
"Looks like you owe someone an apology," I told Ron, gesturing to Hermione.
"Yeah," Ron replied savagely. "If I see Crookshanks, I'll let him know."
This caused Hermione to stare at her feet dejectedly. I frowned at Ron. Surrounded by jerks.
I spotted Dumbledore, accompanied by Fudge, a ministry worker, and Macnair the executioner heading over, so we had to leave. We hesitated at the door, all four of us wanting to stay for Hagrid.
"Hagrid, we can't —"
"We'll tell them what really happened —"
"They can't kill him —"
"It's not fair--"
"Go!" said Hagrid fiercely. "It's bad enough without you lot in trouble an' all!"
We had no choice. As Hermione threw the cloak over Harry, Ron, and I, we heard voices at the front of the cabin. Hagrid looked at the place where we'd just vanished from sight.
"Go quick," he said hoarsely. "Don' listen..." And he strode back into his cabin as someone knocked at the front door.
Slowly, in a kind of horrified trance, we set off silently around Hagrid's house. As we reached the other side, the front door closed with a sharp snap.
"Please, let's hurry," Hermione whispered. "I can't stand it, I can't bear it..."
As we headed back to the grounds, Scabbers started to wriggle around restlessly in Ron's hands, squeaking loudly.
"Oh, please, Ron," Hermione began.
"It's Scabbers — he won't — stay put —"
Ron was bent over, trying to keep Scabbers in his pocket, but the rat was going berserk; squeaking madly, twisting and flailing, trying to sink his teeth into Ron's hand.
"Scabbers, it's me, you idiot, it's Ron," Ron hissed.
We heard a door open behind us and men's voices.
"Ron, let's move, they're going to do it!" I breathed.
"Okay — Scabbers, stay put —"
We walked forward; I was trying not to listen to the rumble of voices behind them. Ron stopped again.
"I can't hold him — Scabbers, shut up, everyone'll hear us —" The rat was squealing wildly, but not loudly enough to cover up the sounds drifting from Hagrid's garden. There was a jumble of indistinct male voices, a silence, and then, without warning, the unmistakable swish and thud of an axe.
The entire world froze, and I had to force myself not to look back.
Hermione swayed on the spot. "They did it!" she whispered. "I'd — don't believe it — they did it!"
Here is another chapter for you all. Enjoy!