◄✩༄*∗"I really doubt that it takes much activity to take care of a golden snidget."∗*༄✩►
☼
◄✩༄*∗ You're only sixteen
And you're such a tease
And there's nothing you do
That can really please∗*༄✩►
— Sixteen | No Doubt
【 ✧ ☾⋆☼⋆☽ ✧ 】
'I'M GOING DOWN TO Hagrid's early to see Witherwings," Y/N said later that afternoon, ten minutes before lunch ended. "Hopefully he won't be too down . . ."
She kissed Harry good-bye and scampered off, exiting the portrait hole (they had gone up to the Gryffindor common room after eating) and making way for the Clock Tower. Once there, she descended the numerous stairs to the landing, where she crossed the Clock Tower Courtyard and finally hurried across the sun-bathed lawns to Hagrid's hut. The window curtains were drawn shut and Y/N assumed that Buckbeak was inside.
She knocked thrice on the door and stepped back, squeezing her bag handles tight as she waited.
Hagrid's large head poked out of the door suspiciously before his face broke out into a large grin as he saw Y/N. She grinned up at him, hoping he didn't see the guilt behind her lips.
"Y/N!" he said, ushering her in. As predicted, Buckbeak laid across the mattress on the far side of the room, gnawing at a ferret. His head shot up at her entrance and he eyed her warily. She bowed lowly, waiting, until his head dipped, and she took it as a sign to approach him and stroke his beak. "Where're Harry, Ron, an' Hermione?"
Y/N sighed. She knew this was coming, but a part of her had hoped that it wasn't.
"They . . . I'm sorry, Hagrid, it's not your fault at all, but they couldn't take Care of Magical Creatures because they've got a lot of other classes and didn't have the space for it," Y/N said very quickly and quietly, her stomach churning as Hagrid's smile dropped. "I mean, they would've totally taken your class, but Harry wants to be an Auror, Hermione wants to go into the Ministry, and Ron probably also wants to be an Auror, and Creature training isn't in the pathway . . ."
"Oh," Hagrid said ruefully, sitting at his table and looking at the wood, his fingers rolling around each other. She hated that she had to be the one to break the news to him. Why couldn't they just toughen up and tell Hagrid? He would have found out sooner or later.
"I mean—I'm here, aren't I?" Y/N said, trying to lighten the mood. "You've got me here, I mean, what more could you want? I'm everything."
Hagrid cracked a smile, becoming more positive as he looked up at Y/N, who walked over to him and put a comforting hand on his massive shoulder. She grinned brightly down at him
"Yer right, Y/N, I'm sorry if I made yer think yeh weren't enough fer me," Hagrid said, pulling her into a side hug. She winced as he crushed her. "An' yer right abou' Harry an' Ron an' Hermione . . . I guess I forgot yer in N.E.W.T.s now and have ter think about yer futures. . . ."
The bell chimed distantly, signalling the start of the next period.
"Well, we'd better head out, I've got somethin' that yeh might like," Hagrid said, winking and carefully exiting his cabin. Y/N, for some reason, didn't have a very good feeling about what he had to offer. Perhaps it was from experience, but typically anything that Hagrid thought that she would like, she didn't.
She joined Hagrid outside, waiting for Hannah Abbott and Anthony Goldstein. A small crate, the smallest Y/N had ever seen, sat next to Hagrid, and Fang was sniffing at it excitedly, fresh from a run around the Hogwarts grounds. It didn't take long for the two students to approach them, wearing contrasting Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw robes. Hagrid looked crestfallen at the lack of students (Y/N, Hannah, and Anthony exchanged frowns—they had been closer due to the D.A.) but with a quick look at Y/N, he grinned and clapped his hands together.
"All right, yeh three, I've got something small planned fer today," Hagrid said in such a bright voice that you'd think it was fake. Actually, Y/N did think it was fake. "Just ter start this year off right."
He bent to open the tiny crate and Y/N, Hannah, and Anthony edged closer. Inside, a few round, fat, and golden creatures fluttered around. They had long, thin beaks, red eyes, and wings resembling a Snitch's.
"Can any of yeh tell me what these are?" Hagrid asked as they all sat criss-cross around the crate. It was uncomfortable with such a tiny class, but Y/N spoke up considering both Hannah and Anthony looked lost.
"They're Golden Snidgets," she said as one fluttered over to her, dropping into her hands. It was surprisingly light in her palms, given its plump size. Well, it was small, but she'd have expected the weight of a small stone, at least.
"Right yeh are, ten points to Gryffindor," Hagrid beamed.
"They're fat," Anthony commented, eyeing one as it fluttered in front of his face.
"They're supposed ter be," said Hagrid, nodding. "They used ter be endangered, but now the magizoologist communities' bred 'em back in ter existence."
"Didn't they used to be used as Snitches?" Hannah asked as one dropped onto her shoulder.
"Yer right, Abbott, ten points to Hufflepuff," Hagrid said, considerably happier now that he had students that were actually engaged and wanted to learn. "That's why they were goin' extinct in the firs' place, because they're extremely fragile birds. Now, yer job today is ter bond with yer Snidget, because yer going ter be taking yers with yeh until yer next lesson with me an' takin' care of it!"
"Really?" said Anthony, staring at his Snidget apprehensively. It was still fluttering in front of him, staring at him intently. "What if we injure it? Or kill it?"
"Then yeh get a 'T' on yer assignment," Hagrid said, awfully happily. "I won' give yeh any homework this year . . . yeh've got enough ter deal, with N.E.W.T.s an' all . . ."
They spent the rest of the lesson getting to know their Snidgets and learning about how to care for them. Y/N was pleased with the lesson greatly; she was excited to inform Harry, Ron, and Hermione of how great the lesson actually was now that Hagrid was more confident and disciplined with his creature choices.
"Remember, they eat cheddar cheese an' any small vegetables!" Hagrid called after them as they took off. "An' for extra credit, yeh can write a detailed analysis of yer Snidget with references from Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them!"
Y/N waved good-bye to him with one hand, the other holding a small crate for her snidget. It fluttered around it happily, though it had to take several breaks from being out of breath from its size. She departed from Hannah and Anthony when they entered the castle and headed down to the dungeon classroom as the bell sounded across the grounds.
She carefully stuffed the cage in her school bag (which had an extension charm put on it by her father) and joined Harry, Ron, and Hermione down the steps of the dungeons, grinning broadly.
"Hagrid's lesson was great, by the way," she said, startling them with her sudden appearance. All of their brows rose as she told them about his lesson, even showing them her Snidget briefly. "He said he wouldn't give us any homework all year. But you guys put me in a really awful spot, you know. You should have told him you weren't going to take NEWT level Care of Magical Creatures. It's only me, Hannah, and Anthony total, and the first thing he asked me when I went down there is where you guys were."
"Oh, well, good for you," Ron said, huffing. Harry and Hermione bore similar apologetic looks, but Y/N frowned as Harry tried to take her hand into his. Because, well, he was the closest to Hagrid, and he didn't bother to say a word to him, as many chances as he had. She instead pretended to look through her bag, pulling out her potions textbook and hugging it tight to herself to prevent Harry from trying to take her hand again. "Still glad I didn't take the class, though."
There were only a dozen people progressing to N.E.W.T. level. Crabbe and Goyle had evidently failed to achieve the required O.W.L. grade, but four Slytherins had made it through, including Malfoy. Three Ravenclaws were there, and one Hufflepuff, Ernie Macmillan, whom Y/N liked despite his rather pompous manner.
"Harry," Ernie said portentously, holding out his hand as they approached, "didn't get a chance to speak in Defense Against the Dark Arts this morning. Good lesson, I thought, but Shield Charms are old hat, of course, for us old D.A. lags . . . And how are you, Y/N—Ron—Hermione?"
Before they could say more than "fine," the dungeon door opened and Slughorn's belly preceded him out of the door. As they filed into the room, his great walrus mustache curved above his beaming mouth, and he greeted Y/N, Harry, and Zabini with particular enthusiasm.
The dungeon was, most unusually, already full of vapors and odd smells. Y/N, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sniffed interestedly as they passed large, bubbling cauldrons. The four Slytherins took a table together, as did the Ravenclaws and Ernie. Y/N, Harry, Ron, and Hermione chose the one nearest a gold-colored cauldron that was emitting one of the most seductive scents Y/N had ever inhaled: somehow it reminded her simultaneously of an oak wood forest, the slight musk of being out in the sun for hours, vanilla patchouli, and a very familiar cologne.
"Godric, Y/N, do you have to put on so much perfume after Care of Magical Creatures?" Harry complained, sitting next to Y/N. She looked over at him with a raised brow; despite his complaints, he was breathing very slowly and deeply, smiling in content. "I really doubt that it takes much activity to take care of a golden snidget."
Y/N shared an amused glance with Hermione.
"Didn't know you were that obsessed with me," she teased, edging her face close to his. His cheeks reddened considerably, scoffing.
"Just 'cause I'm in love with you doesn't mean I'm obsessed like a psychopath," he said, still drinking in the potion contentedly. "And what are you even talking about? Why do you assume I'm obsessed with you?"
"Oh, you'll see," Y/N smirked, and he nudged her arm with his in response.
"Now then, now then, now then," said Slughorn, whose massive outline was quivering through the many shimmering vapors. "Scales out, everyone, and potion kits, and don't forget your copies of Advanced Potion-Making. . . ."
"Sir?" said Harry, raising his hand.
"Harry, m'boy?"
"I haven't got a book or scales or anything—nor's Ron—we didn't realize we'd be able to do the N.E.W.T., you see—"
"Ah, yes, Professor McGonagall did mention . . . not to worry, my dear boy, not to worry at all. You can use ingredients from the store cupboard today, and I'm sure we can lend you some scales, and we've got a small stock of old books here, they'll do until you can write to Flourish and Blotts. . . ."
Slughorn strode over to a corner cupboard and, after a moment's foraging, emerged with two very battered-looking copies of Advanced Potion-Making by Libatius Borage, which he gave to Harry and Ron along with two sets of tarnished scales.
"Now then," said Slughorn, returning to the front of the class and inflating his already bulging chest so that the buttons on his waistcoat threatened to burst off, "I've prepared a few potions for you to have a look at, just out of interest, you know. These are the kind of things you ought to be able to make after completing your N.E.W.T.s. You ought to have heard of 'em, even if you haven't made 'em yet. Anyone tell me what this one is?"
He indicated the cauldron nearest the Slytherin table. Y/N raised herself slightly in her seat and saw what looked like plain water boiling away inside it.
Hermione's well-practiced hand hit the air before anybody else's; Slughorn pointed at her.
"It's Veritaserum, a colorless, odorless potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth," said Hermione.
"Very good, very good!" said Slughorn happily. "Now," he continued, pointing at the cauldron nearest the Ravenclaw table, "this one here is pretty well known. . . . Featured in a few Ministry leaflets lately too . . . Who can—?"
Hermione's hand was fastest once more.
"It's Polyjuice Potion, sir," she said.
Y/N too had recognized the slow-bubbling, mudlike substance in the second cauldron, but did not resent Hermione getting the credit for answering the question; she, after all, was the one who had succeeded in making it, back in their second year.
"Excellent, excellent! Now, this one here . . . yes, my dear?" said Slughorn, now looking slightly bemused, as Hermione's hand punched the air again.
"It's Amortentia!"
"It is indeed. It seems almost foolish to ask," said Slughorn, who was looking mightily impressed, "but I assume you know what it does?"
"It's the most powerful love potion in the world!" said Hermione with a sneaky glance towards Y/N. She sent an amused smile in response, ignoring Harry and Ron's look between them.
"Quite right! You recognized it, I suppose, by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen?"
"And the steam rising in characteristic spirals," said Hermione enthusiastically, "and it's supposed to smell differently to each of us, according to what attracts us most, and I can smell freshly mown grass and new parchment and—"
But she turned pink and did not complete the sentence.
Y/N looked at Harry, who was a deep magenta as he spared her a slight glance and mouthed 'Shut up'.
"May I ask your name, my dear?" said Slughorn, ignoring Hermione's embarrassment.
"Hermione Granger, sir."
"Granger? Granger? Can you possibly be related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, who founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers?"
"No, I don't think so, sir. I'm Muggle-born, you see."
Slughorn beamed and looked from Hermione to Harry, who was sitting next to her.
"Oho! 'One of my best friends is Muggle-born, and she's the best in our year!' I'm assuming this is the very friend of whom you spoke, Harry?"
"Yes, sir," said Harry.
"Well, well, take twenty well-earned points for Gryffindor, Miss Granger," said Slughorn genially.
Malfoy looked rather as he had done the time Hermione had punched him in the face. Hermione turned to Harry with a radiant expression and whispered, "Did you really tell him I'm the best in the year? Oh, Harry!"
"Well, what's so impressive about that?" whispered Ron, who for some reason looked annoyed. "You are the best in the year—I'd've told him so if he'd asked me!"
Hermione smiled but made a "shhing" gesture, so that they could hear what Slughorn was saying. Ron looked slightly disgruntled.
"Amortentia doesn't really create love, of course. It is impossible to manufacture or imitate love. No, this will simply cause a powerful infatuation or obsession. It is probably the most dangerous and powerful potion in this room—oh yes," he said, nodding gravely at Malfoy and Nott, both of whom were smirking skeptically. "When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love. . . . There are several ways to reverse the works of a love potion, but two of the most common are the Hate Potion, which will cancel out the Love Potion's effects, and, of course, the true Love Potion Antidote, which is located on page one-hundred-and-fifty-two of your textbooks."
"And now," said Slughorn, "it is time for us to start work."
"Sir, you haven't told us what's in this one," said Ernie Macmillan, pointing at a small black cauldron standing on Slughorn's desk. The potion within was splashing about merrily; it was the color of molten gold, and large drops were leaping like goldfish above the surface, though not a particle had spilled.
"Oho," said Slughorn again. Y/N was sure that Slughorn had not forgotten the potion at all, but had waited to be asked for dramatic effect. "Yes. That. Well, that one, ladies and gentlemen, is a most curious little potion called Felix Felicis. I take it," he turned, smiling, to look at Hermione, who had let out an audible gasp, "that you know what Felix Felicis does, Miss Granger?"
"It's liquid luck," said Hermione excitedly. She, apparently, was in her element and was rather enjoying to academic praises from Professor Slughorn. "It makes you lucky!"
The whole class seemed to sit up a little straighter.
"Quite right, take another ten points for Gryffindor. Yes, it's a funny little potion, Felix Felicis," said Slughorn. "Desperately tricky to make, and disastrous to get wrong. However, if brewed correctly, as this has been, you will find that all your endeavors tend to succeed . . . at least until the effects wear off."
"Why don't people drink it all the time, sir?" said Terry Boot eagerly.
"Because if taken in excess, it causes giddiness, recklessness, and dangerous overconfidence," said Slughorn. "Too much of a good thing, you know . . . highly toxic in large quantities. But taken sparingly, and very occasionally . . ."
"Well, you don't need it, Harry, you're already reckless and dangerously overconfident," Y/N said quietly, sniggering slightly as Harry shot her a glare.
"Have you ever taken it, sir?" asked Michael Corner with great interest.
"Twice in my life," said Slughorn. "Once when I was twenty-four, once when I was fifty-seven. Two tablespoonfuls taken with breakfast. Two perfect days."
He gazed dreamily into the distance. Whether he was playacting or not, thought Y/N, the effect was good.
"And that," said Slughorn, apparently coming back to earth, "is what I shall be offering as a prize in this lesson."
There was silence in which every bubble and gurgle of the surrounding potions seemed magnified tenfold.
"One tiny bottle of Felix Felicis," said Slughorn, taking a minuscule glass bottle with a cork in it out of his pocket and showing it to them all. "Enough for twelve hours' luck. From dawn till dusk, you will be lucky in everything you attempt.
"Now, I must give you warning that Felix Felicis is a banned substance in organized competitions . . . sporting events, for instance, examinations, or elections. So the winner is to use it on an ordinary day only . . . and watch how that ordinary day becomes extraordinary!
"So," said Slughorn, suddenly brisk, "how are you to win my fabulous prize? Well, by turning to page ten of Advanced Potion-Making. We have a little over an hour left to us, which should be time for you to make a decent attempt at the Draught of Living Death. I know it is more complex than anything you have attempted before, and I do not expect a perfect potion from anybody. The person who does best, however, will win little Felix here. Off you go!"
There was a scraping as everyone drew their cauldrons toward them and some loud clunks as people began adding weights to their scales, but nobody spoke. The concentration within the room was almost tangible. Y/N bent over her brand new book, muttering the steps under her breath.
Everyone kept glancing around at what the rest of the class was doing; this was both an advantage and a disadvantage of Potions, that it was hard to keep your work private. Within ten minutes, the whole place was full of bluish steam. Hermione, of course, seemed to have progressed furthest. Her potion already resembled the "smooth, black currant–colored liquid" mentioned as the ideal halfway stage.
Having finished chopping her roots, Y/N bent over her book again.
Cut up a sopophorous bean and add the juices to the potion.
Y/N, however, found it difficult to cut up her sopophorous bean, often having it slip from under her silver dagger. Growing frustrated with the stupid bean, she stuck the end of her dagger into the table and grabbed her wand instead, muttering, "Relashio."
The bean broke in half, revealing two halves of the bean filled with the juice. Huffing to herself, she dumped both halves into her cauldron, watching it turn a light shade of lilac and humming in content.
"Can I borrow your silver knife?" Harry asked, to which she nodded as she stirred her potion counterclockwise until it turned clear as water.
It, however, was not turning any other colors. She glanced frustratedly around her; Hermione's potion was still a deep purple, Ron's (who was cursing fluently under his breath) looked like liquid licorice, and Harry's—
"How are you doing that?" demanded Hermione, who'd also seen Harry's pale pink potion. She was red-faced and her hair was growing bushier and bushier in the fumes from her cauldron as she fumed.
"Add a clockwise stir—"
"No, no, the book says counterclockwise!" she snapped.
Harry shrugged and continued what he was doing. Y/N frowned down at her own potion.
Slughorn moved slowly among the tables, peering into cauldrons. He made no comment, but occasionally gave the potions a stir or a sniff. At last he reached the table where Y/N, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting. He smiled ruefully at the tarlike substance in Ron's cauldron. Hermione's potion he gave an approving nod, as well Y/N's. Then he saw Harry's, and a look of incredulous delight spread over his face.
"The clear winner!" he cried to the dungeon. "Excellent, excellent, Harry! Good lord, it's clear you've inherited your mother's talent. She was a dab hand at Potions, Lily was! Here you are, then, here you are—one bottle of Felix Felicis, as promised, and use it well!"
Harry slipped the tiny bottle of golden liquid into his inner pocket. Hermione had a disappointed expression on her face, while Y/N looked at him in bewilderment, confusion, then acceptance. Ron looked simply dumbfounded.
"How did you do that?" he whispered to Harry as they left the dungeon.
"Got lucky, I suppose," said Harry vaguely. There he was again, trying to be a whole lot more solemn and mysterious than he actually was.
Once they were securely ensconced at the Gryffindor table for dinner, however, he told them about his textbook, which had writing all over it that had helped him. Hermione's face became stonier with every word he uttered.
"I s'pose you think I cheated?" he finished, as Y/N dug into her dinner, finding herself ravenous. She didn't forget to feed her Golden Snidget, which was perched on the bench next to her and nibbling away at a pile of vegetables and cheddar cheese.
"Well, it wasn't exactly your own work, was it?" she said stiffly.
"He only followed different instructions to ours," said Ron. "Could've been a catastrophe, couldn't it? But he took a risk and it paid off." He heaved a sigh. "Slughorn could've handed me that book, but no, I get the one no one's ever written on. Puked on, by the look of page fifty-two, but—"
"Hang on," said Ginny, appearing on the other side of the cage, "Did I hear right? You've been taking orders from something someone wrote in a book, Harry?"
She looked alarmed and angry. Y/N knew what was on her mind at once.
"It's nothing," Harry said, lowering his voice. "It's not like, you know, Riddle's diary. It's just an old textbook someone's scribbled on."
"But you're doing what it says?"
"I just tried a few of the tips written in the margins, honestly, Ginny, there's nothing funny—"
"Ginny's got a point," said Hermione, perking up at once. "We ought to check that there's nothing odd about it. I mean, all these funny instructions, who knows?"
"Hey!" said Harry indignantly, as she pulled his copy of Advanced Potion-Making out of his bag and raised her wand.
"Specialis Revelio!" she said, rapping it smartly on the front cover. Nothing whatsoever happened. The book simply lay there, looking old and dirty and dog-eared.
"Finished?" said Harry irritably. "Or d'you want to wait and see if it does a few backflips?"
"It seems all right," said Hermione, still staring at the book suspiciously. "I mean, it really does seem to be . . . just a textbook."
"Good. Then I'll have it back," said Harry, snatching it off the table.
"What is that?" Ginny said suddenly, looking at the Snidget she was sitting next to with a raised brow. Y/N grinned.
"It's a Golden Snidget, and I've named him Butterscotch," Y/N said importantly as Butterscotch chirped in his cage. "Would you like to hear more about them?"
"Frankly, I don't," Ginny said, and took off.
【 ✧ ☾⋆☼⋆☽ ✧ 】
The very next day, Tuesday when Y/N didn't have Care of Magical Creatures, Hagrid sent Y/N a letter that morning at breakfast asking her to meet him at the front of the Forbidden Forest after her last class of the day. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all questioned it, but she couldn't tell them what it was about simply because she didn't know. He'd also been very vague in his letter, likely knowing that she was going to tell the three of them where she was going.
"No, I'm not going to pretend like I didn't get his letter," Y/N scowled as they poured out into the Transfiguration Courtyard, scoffing as a couple of first-years bulldozed past them to hustle into the Defense Against the Dark Arts Tower. Good luck, Y/N bid them, because Snape was in a particularly nasty mood today. "You're not helping your insensitive wart case, Ronald."
Ron heaved a massive shrug, grimacing when Hermione hit him in the chest with the back of her hand.
"One, I thought I was an insensitive axe, not wart, and two, I was under the impression that the Forbidden Forest was strictly off-limits for students," he said as they walked with her to the North Hall. Peeves, suddenly appearing, howled with laughter as he dove past them and other students, all of whom shielded their heads with their robes as he began launching sap pellets everywhere. A third-year boy caught a full face of it and it appeared as though honey were dripping off his face; the pellet had exploded onto his nose, and he scowled, cursing out Peeves with a raised fist as his three other friends burst out into giggles. Y/N vaguely remembered them as the kids whose textbook fire she put out two years ago, and had gotten a lecture from Professor McGonagall about waking her up over some new textbooks.
"Like do you remember Aragog? Centaurs? Grawp? Aragog?" Ron went on, ignoring Y/N audible sigh of annoyance. "As much as you make me irate, Andilet, it's day three of our sixth year and I was hoping we could make it to at least a week."
"Hopefully I'll be back before dinner," Y/N said, ignoring Ron. She accepted Harry's quick kiss (albeit reluctantly since he still hadn't talked to Hagrid) and he took her schoolbag and robes from her to take up to Gryffindor tower. "Bye!"
They bid her adieu, and as much as she wanted to drag them down to Hagrid's and make them apologize (considering she was tired of being the mediator), she hoped that this trip wouldn't take long. Although she'd only had three classes today, all of them being NEWT level meant that homework and self-studying was multiplied excessively, and she wanted to finish at least most of it before tomorrow.
Glad to have shed her robes, Y/N crossed the Hogwarts Grounds to Hagrid's Hut, where the Forbidden Forest loomed behind it. Though it was still daytime—such, that it was warm and sunny, and the clear blue skies longed for a Quidditch match to happen—the eeriness of the forest chilled Y/N from afar, and she tried not to resent every step that she took.
Hagrid was already waiting when Y/N rounded his hut, Fang lazily basking in the glow of the sun despite the daunting forest behind him. She couldn't help that her heart sank when she saw the nostalgic gleam of Hagrid's crossbow: that meant one thing, and it was that they were going to go into the forest to have some sort of fucked-up version of a so-called "adventure".
Y/N loved Hagrid, but boy did she wish she could lecture him about putting them in danger.
"Hullo!" Hagrid boomed when Y/N approached, a strained smile on her lips. He didn't notice, to her annoyance. She thought, perhaps, if he recognized her hesitance to join him, then he would feel bad for her and not make her go into the forest. Alas, Hagrid recognized the emotions of others just about as well as a one Ronald Weasley. "Ready?"
Y/N pulled herself to ask. "For what?"
Hagrid scratched his beard, his crossbow faltering in his other hand briefly in his moment of imbalance. He said, "Sorry I didn't tell yer yet. I didn't want—I thought I might surprise yeh when yeh got down 'ere. We're savin' some Abraxans!"
Abraxans were a breed of winged horses; they were gigantic and powerful, and Y/N vaguely remembered a herd of them pulling along the Beauxbatons carriage during the Triwizard Tournament. They, she knew, were a rare breed in the winged horse species, not only because they were the size of small elephants, but because their hair could be used in very difficult potions. Many didn't survive birth, making them a very sought-out breed.
Which brought Y/N to her next—and most reluctant—question.
"Saving them . . . from what?"
Hagrid cleared his throat, now suddenly meek despite his gigantism.
"There've been a couple o' poachers roamin' the forests lately. O' course, they can't get past Hogwarts' defences, but these Abraxans 'ave congregated just outside the borders an' I'm afraid they'll be taken fer poachin'," Hagrid said, avoiding Y/N's scrutinizing eyes. "I wouldn't've asked yeh ter come if it were just one, but there's another and I think they've mated. I been watchin' them inside the borders but Abraxans are stubborn like Hippogriffs; yeh've got ter bow an' everything, get acquainted, an' there's no way fer me to do it by meself."
Wasn't this the same Hagrid who yelled at them in their third year for visiting him when there was a mass murderer on the loose?
The sensible part of Y/N told her to refuse, to knock some sense into Hagrid and tell him that she wasn't very comfortable with going outside the borders of Hogwarts to save some winged horses. She didn't want to potentially come across said poachers, because they were armed and dangerous and very very territorial, to the point where they would attack without asking questions first. And when has she ever intentionally put herself in harm's way, right?
However, that other part of her knew the cruelty of being subject to poachers. Because these Abraxans weren't in a herd, it would be easier for them to be snatched and taken advantage of despite their size. And if Hagrid was right and the female was pregnant, then they were even more at risk since the female wouldn't be able to fight back. The fact that they weren't even common inhabitants of the Forbidden Forest was also bad news; the pair had probably already been running from poachers or were somehow forcibly separated from their herd.
It was even worse because Y/N knew the poachers didn't mind torturing or killing the creatures. Some would keep them captive so they constantly produced the magical properties desired, but more often than not Mr. Andilet would come across tortured and ravaged animals who'd been left to die a slow and miserable death. So Y/N, as capable of a witch she was (and hoping nobody found out about their adventure because she would likely get detention), agreed and followed Hagrid into the forest.
Y/N didn't bring up Harry, Ron, or Hermione as they walked side-by-side, leaving Fang at the edge as they ventured further and further into the wood. Despite it being early afternoon, the density of the trees blocked out the sun's rays and shed little light over them when they finally stumbled upon the thicket of the trees.
Lighting her wand, Y/N regretted her outfit choice as they wandered a hidden path only known to Hagrid. Her white shirt, house tie, skirt, and stockings and shoes did little to blur the typical chill inhabiting the Forbidden Forest but she bore through it, only mildly irritated with it compared to her annoyance with Hagrid.
Lucky for them, they didn't stumble upon any creatures out for their blood as they ventured through the woods. Though many stared at them from afar, hidden in the darkness, they didn't make a move to attack the pair. Whether it was out of their own disinterest or the crossbow adorning Hagrid's shoulder was a mystery, yet Y/N couldn't shake the stinging sensation in the back of her neck that told her to have her wand at the ready.
Y/N would have guessed that they wandered for at least an hour or so. They were now in the thickest part of the wood; many times they had taken an alternate route, but ended up exactly where they'd been before. Doubting Hagrid wasn't a rarity these days, but Y/N had an inkling feeling that he didn't actually know where he was going, and was instead trying to guess where he'd seen them last.
"They'll be just up ahead, hang back fer a second," Hagrid told Y/N quietly and she paused, forcing herself to not look around as he edged forward to peer into a clearing twenty feet away. She could feel that they were at the edge of Hogwarts' boundaries and though she was rather well-expertised at fighting dark wizards, almost dying on an unimportant Tuesday evening after class seemed rather dishonorable.
Hagrid reappeared in sight a minute later, a small grin on his face as he beckoned Y/N over to him. With a great leap of faith in Hagrid Y/N set forth, an immediate chill sliding down her spine as she crossed the invisible boundary.
Hagrid took Y/N to the clearing where the Abraxan laid, grinning hopefully as she inched forward. They were beautiful and majestic creatures, no doubt; she'd only ever seen the ones from Beauxbatons, since they didn't have any in the sanctuary and hardly anyone owned them as pets. Even sitting, they were the size of a small house. The little bit of sun peeking into the forest reflected off of their palomino-colored fur, illuminating them against the darkness of the wood.
"C'mon," said Hagrid, leading Y/N into the clearing without going over their game-plan. "We need ter act quickly—"
"Bringin' a student out here to try an' save these lil' horses?" a voice cackled, and the hair on the back of Y/N's neck stood on its ends. "Didn't think Hogwarts would have a student death so early into the year but here we are."
Fuck poachers, Y/N thought as six of them filed into the clearing from the shadows. She pulled out her wand, knowing that despite their poor brains and lack of intelligence, poachers were very dangerous wizards to cross. They spent more time learning how to torture someone without being caught than actually doing something useful with their lives.
"We don't want no trouble," Hagrid said firmly as he palmed his crossbow. "Just let us take these Abraxans and we'll be on our way."
The middle one—presumably the leader, with his half-face mask and array of fur products—chuckled and stepped forward, playing with his wand as he assessed both Y/N and Hagrid. Y/N nearly retched at the appreciative look he took of her figure. How old was this guy, forty?
"We've been scoutin' these two since three weeks ago," he said, grinning as he brandished his wand. The other five followed, leaving Y/N and Hagrid against them all. Y/N's heart sunk. As skilled as she was, she was also terrified. To battle Voldemort's followers with other witches and wizards was one thing, but Hagrid didn't have a wand and dodging crossbows was easy, especially with a wand and a good Shield Charm. And even Hagrid wasn't immune to the Killing Curse.
"Boys, I think—"
A scarlet light struck him and forced him into a nearby tree; he slumped to the ground, a stream of blood leaking from his hairline as the other poachers panicked from the unknown attack.
Y/N took their momentary shock to Stun one of them; she blocked a curse and it ricocheted off the shield, hitting the Stunned wizard instead and slashing him across the torso. Maroon poured out of him almost instantaneously, giving Y/N flashbacks from when she'd been slashed back in June. She shook it off, casting another Shield Charm to deflect a spell hurtling for her.
A blur of mousey brown hair crossed Y/N's vision as it took care of two wizards at once; Y/N's ears rang and her vision blurred as she sought out the next wizard. Hagrid was already thundering toward one of them, so the last one, a burly and marred man whose wand looked like a twig in his hand, received a knockback jinx to the chest.
It, however, rendered useless considering his size; Y/N had just enough time to dive out of the way of his Expulso! before she was blasted into pieces. The tree behind her met an unfortunate fate: Y/N shielded her face with her arm as pieces of wood blew everywhere, sticking into flesh and forcing a flock of birds to flutter away.
"Expelliarmus!" Y/N cast from her position on the floor and the wand shot from the wizard's hand. She caught it and he blundered toward her, but she cried, "Petrificus Totalus!" and he froze in his steps, toppling to the ground like a statue.
Breaking his wand in half over her knee, Y/N tossed it into the darkness of the forest and helped snap the wands of the rest of the defeated wizards.
At last, when they were sure there weren't more poachers hiding in the shadows, Y/N turned to their helper and was startled to find Tonks glaring at Hagrid.
"Tonks!" she said in surprise, brushing off the stinging in her forearm. "I thought you were stationed at Hogsmeade?"
Tonks, as well as a number of other Aurors, were stationed all around Hogwarts in order to help protect its borders and keep the castles and its inhabitants safe. Tonks was supposed to be watching Hogsmeade north of Hogwarts, and she'd been there when the students got off the Hogwarts Express days ago.
"I am," she said solemnly, and Y/N couldn't help but pity her depression. Remus' refusal of her love impacted her greatly; no longer did she bear the blazing pink hair that Y/N typically associated with her. Now, she'd reverted back to her genetic mousy brown, and Y/N vaguely remembered Hermione and Ginny talking about how metamorphosing was coming difficult to her. "But I had a feeling that I might check the Forest just in case, and now I'm glad I did."
Her tone was cold and distant. Whether it was because she was shooting daggers at Hagrid or because she'd suppressed her usual spark, Y/N didn't know, but it put the hairs on her arms on edge as she shifted uncomfortably in her spot. A breeze whispered past them as the tense silence prolonged, and Hagrid shuffled nervously at Tonks' look. She must have gotten it from Moody because really, when she wanted to be, she was rather scary.
"Go back to the castle with the horses, Y/N," Tonks finally said, her features severe as she commanded Y/N. Y/N was glad to have been given the out: fire seemed to be lapping through her arm, and she was desperately hungry, tired, and still had homework to do. Hagrid made a move to follow Y/N to the horses, but Tonks said in a low and grave tone, "You stay here, Hagrid."
Approaching the frightened horses, Y/N tucked her wand into the wand pocket on the inside seam of her skirt. Bowing low and raising her arms in surrender, to show that she wasn't there to hurt them, Y/N waited for a couple of seconds before looking up. The Abraxan were now standing, the mother visibly pregnant, and whinnied forgivingly, staring down at Y/N with their ruby eyes.
With a breath of relief Y/N stepped toward them, only reaching their chests considering their size. They bowed their necks to receive her affection and, using her sturdy wings as leverage, Y/N mounted the female and took her soft, silky mane in her hands. The male would follow its bride, Y/N knew, as she squeezed herself tight around the massive creature and readied for takeoff. She didn't look back at Hagrid and Tonks as the Abraxan took a mighty leap, and the swooping feeling in Y/N's stomach was familiar as they took off in the air for Hogwarts.