LITTLE MISS MUDBLOOD – ACT 1 : SCENE 3 : CHAPTER 33
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Y/N strutted into the hall with her Quidditch badge pinned proudly to the front of her robes. Perhaps she was acting a tad bit like Percy, but Quidditch was far more important than Head Boy. Theodore, Blaise, and Daphne shook their heads in exasperation but nevertheless sat with her at the Slytherin table. Draco Malfoy, and the few Slytherins who adored him, also came into the hall, Malfoy entertaining them with a supposedly funny story. Y/N rolled her eyes once he mentioned 'Potter' and 'dementor'.
"You would think that he was totally immune to a dementor by the way he's acting," Y/N scoffed and piled American-style pancakes on her plate, drenching them in syrup. "Even I, of all people, was spooked when that thing came into our compartment."
"Well, you know Malfoy, always trying to make a coward out of Harry," said Daphne, pouring herself some orange juice. "He can't help it, it's like he has a grudge against him or something. . . ."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered the hall and, as they passed, Malfoy did a ridiculous impression of a swooning fit and there was a roar of laughter.
"Hey, Potter!" shrieked Pansy Parkinson in her annoyingly high voice. "Potter! The dementors are coming, Potter! Woooooooo!"
Daphne, who was putting back the jug of orange juice, raised her eyebrows and tipped it in Parkinson's direction, effectively spilling orange juice all over her robes. Parkinson screeched and ran off with her best friend, Tracey Davis.
"I love you," said Theodore dreamily, and was smacked on the back of the head by Professor Snape as he came by with their course schedules.
"Y/N," said Blaise, frowning as he looked over Y/N's shoulder, "they've messed up your schedule. Look – they've got you down for about ten subjects a day. There isn't enough time."
"I'll manage," said Y/N, downing her coffee. "I've fixed it all with Professor Snape."
"If you say so," Blaise snorted. "Look – Divination, nine o'clock. Muggle Studies, nine o'clock. And – Arithmancy, nine o'clock. How're you supposed to be in three classes at once?"
"Of course I won't be in three classes at once, dumbarse," said Y/N, checking her watch. "Look, we've got Divination class first and it's at the top of the North Tower. It'll take us ages to get there. . . ."
They finished their breakfasts hastily and joined Harry, Ron, and Hermione on their way out of the hall. The journey through the castle to North Tower was a long one. Two years at Hogwarts hadn't taught them everything about the castle, and they had never been inside North Tower before.
"There's – got – to – be – a – shortcut," Ron panted as they climbed their seventh long staircase and emerged on an unfamiliar landing, where there was nothing but a large painting of a bare stretch of grass hanging on the stone wall.
"Ron, you probably just ate too much," Y/N commented, and looked around.
"I think it's this way," said Hermione, peering down the empty passage to the right.
"Can't be," said Daphne. "That's south, look, you can see a bit of the lake out of the window . . ."
A short, squat knight in a suit of armor clanked into the picture in front of them, running after his pony. By the look of the grass stains on his metal knees, he had just fallen off.
"Aha!" he yelled, seeing the seven third-years. "What villains are these, that trespass upon my private lands! Come to scorn at my fall, perchance? Draw, you knaves, you dogs!"
They watched in astonishment as the little knight tugged his sword out of its scabbard and began brandishing it violently, hopping up and down in rage. But the sword was too long for him; a particularly wild swing made him overbalance, and he landed facedown in the grass.
"Are you all right?" said Y/N, moving closer to the picture.
"Get back, you scurvy braggart! Back, you rogue!"
The knight seized his sword again and used it to push himself back up, but the blade sank deeply into the grass and, though he pulled with all his might, he couldn't get it out again. Finally, he had to flop back down onto the grass and push up his visor to mop his sweating face.
"Look," said Y/N, taking advantage of the knight's exhaustion, "I've got a . . . quest for you."
"A quest!" said the knight, seemingly finding his energy and hopping up. "Oh, a dear quest! How long it's been since I've had one of those! What is this quest you speak of, gentle lady?"
"There's an, er, a princess, who's, uh, trapped, yes, she's trapped in the North Tower of the Divination," said Y/N, thinking and improvising, "and – uh, she needs our help. However, uhm, we don't know where said North Tower lies and we need your help to find it. Are you willing to, er, to help us rescue Lady-Princess?"
"Yes, my dear friend, I know the way!" said the knight, finding the strength to pull his sword from the ground. "Come follow me, dear friends, and we shall find our goal, or else shall perish the Lady-Princess trapped in the North Tower!"
He tried and failed to mount the fat pony, gave up, and cried, "On foot then, good sirs and gentle madams'! On! On!"
And he ran, clanking loudly, into the left side of the frame and out of sight.
They hurried after him along the corridor, following the sound of his armor. Every now and then they spotted him running through a picture ahead.
"Be of stout heart, the worst is yet to come!" yelled the knight, and they saw him reappear in front of an alarmed group of women in crinolines, whose picture hung on the wall of a narrow spiral staircase.
Unfazed (due to years of active sport), Y/N climbed the tightly spiraling steps, and Harry, Ron, Hermione, Theodore, Blaise, and Daphne followed her. At last they heard the murmur of voices above them and knew they had reached the classroom.
"Farewell!" cried the knight, popping his head into a painting of some sinister-looking monks. "Farewell, my comrades-in-arm! Save thy Lady-Princess! If you ever have need of noble heart and steely sinew, call upon Sir Cadogan!"
"Yeah, we'll call you," muttered Ron as the knight disappeared, "if we ever need someone mental."
They climbed the last few steps and emerged into a tiny landing where most of the class was already assembled. There were no doors off this landing, but Daphne nudged Y/N and pointed at the ceiling, where there was a circular trapdoor with a brass plaque on it.
"'Sybill Trelawney, Divination teacher,'" Y/N read. "How're we supposed to get up there?"
As though in answer to his question, the trapdoor suddenly opened, and a silvery ladder descended right at Y/N's feet. Everyone got quiet.
"After you," said Daphne, grinning, so Y/N, blushing as she tried to hide her knickers, climbed the ladder first.
She emerged into the strangest-looking classroom she had ever seen. In fact, it didn't look like a classroom at all, more like a cross between someone's attic and an old-fashioned tea shop. At least twenty small, circular tables were crammed inside it, all surrounded by chintz armchairs and fat little poufs. Everything was lit with a dim, crimson light; the curtains at the windows were all closed, and the many lamps were draped with dark red scarves. It was stiflingly warm, and the fire that was burning under the crowded mantelpiece was giving off a heavy, sickly sort of perfume as it heated a large copper kettle. The shelves running around the circular walls were crammed with dusty-looking feathers, stubs of candles, many packs of tattered playing cards, countless silvery crystal balls, and a huge array of teacups.
Daphne and Hermione appeared at Y/N shoulders as the class assembled around them, all talking in whispers.
"Where is she?" Daphne said.
A voice came suddenly out of the shadows, a soft, misty sort of voice.
"Welcome," it said. "How nice to see you in the physical world at last."
Y/N's immediate impression was of a large, glittering insect. Professor Trelawney moved into the firelight, and they saw that she was very thin; her large glasses magnified her eyes to several times their natural size, and she was draped in a gauzy spangled shawl. Innumerable chains and beads hung around her spindly neck, and her arms and hands were encrusted with bangels and rings.
"Sit, my children, sit," she said, and they all climbed awkwardly into armchairs or sank onto poufs. Hermione, Daphne, and Y/N sat themselves around the same round table.
"Welcome to Divination," said Professor Trelawney, who had seated herself in a winged armchair in front of the fire. "My name is Professor Trelawney. You may not have seen me before. I find that descending too often into the hustle and bustle of the main school clouds my Inner Eye."
Nobody said anything to this extraordinary pronouncement. Professor Trelawney delicately rearranged her shawl and continued, "So you have chosen to study Divination, the most difficult of all magical arts. I must warn you at the outset that if you do not have the Sight, there is very little I will be able to teach you. Books can take you only so far in this field. . . ."
Hermione and Y/N exchanged a startled glance.
"Many witches and wizards, talented though they are in the area of loud bangs and smells and sudden disappearings, are yet unable to penetrate the veiled mysteries of the future," Professor Trelawney went on, her enormous, gleaming eyes moving from face to nervous face. "It is a Gift granted to few. You, boy," she said suddenly to Neville, who almost toppled off his pouf. "Is your grandmother well?"
"I think so," said Neville tremulously.
"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you, dear," said Professor Trelawney, the firelight glinting on her long emerald earrings. Neville gulped. Professor Trelawney continued placidly. "We will be covering the basic methods of Divination this year. The first term will be devoted to reading the tea leaves. Next term we shall progress to palmistry. By the way, my dear," she shot suddenly at Parvati Patil, "beware a red-haired man."
Parvati gave a startled look at Ron, who was right behind her, and edged her chair away from him.
"In the second term," Professor Trelawney went on, "we shall progress to the crystal ball – if we have finished with fire omens, that is. Unfortunately, classes will be disrupted in February by a nasty bout of flu. I myself will lose my voice. And around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever."
A very tense silence followed this pronouncement, but Professor Trelawney seemed unaware of it.
"I wonder, dear," she said to Lavender Brown, who was nearest and shrank back in her chair, "if you could pass me the largest silver teapot."
Lavender, looking relieved, stood up, took an enormous teapot from the shelf, and put it down on the table in front of Professor Trelawney.
"Thank you, my dear. Incidentally, that thing you are dreading – it will happen on Friday the sixteenth of October."
Lavender trembled.
"Now, I want you all to divide into pairs. Collect a teacup from the shelf, come to me, and I will fill it. Then sit down and drink, drink until only the dregs remain. Swill these around the cup three times with the left hand, then turn the cup upside down on its saucer, wait for the last of the tea to drain away, then give your cup to your partner to read. You will interpret the patterns using pages five and six of Unfogging the Future. I shall move among you, helping and instructing. Oh, and dear" – she caught Neville by the arm as he made to stand up – "after you've broken your first cup, would you be so kind as to select one of the blue-patterned ones? I'm rather attached to the pink."
Sure enough, Neville had no sooner reached the shelf of teacups when there was a tinkle of breaking china. Professor Trelawney swept over to him holding a dustpan and brush and said, "One of the blue ones, then, dear, if you wouldn't mind . . . thank you. . . ."
When Hermione, Daphne, and Y/N had had their teacups filled, they went back to their table and tried to drink the scalding tea quickly. They swilled the dregs around as Professor Trelawney had instructed, then drained the cups and swapped them.
"Right," said Y/N as they opened their books at pages five and six. "What can you see in mine?"
"A load of soggy brown stuff," said Hermione, rolling her eyes. She was reading Y/N's teacup, Daphne was reading hers, and Y/N was reading Daphne's.
"Broaden your minds, my dears, and allow your eyes to see past the mundane!" Professor Trelawney cried through the gloom.
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Right, you've got a big house . . ." She consulted Unfogging the Future. "That means a big change . . . of course, we change every year . . . uhm, let's see . . . an acorn, which means unexpected gold . . . you already have a lot of that . . . an apple – good knowledge . . . duh, she's smart . . . and – and a massive chain, which is great responsibilities . . . so, you're going to go through a big change because you're smart, which will bring unexpected gold and great responsibilities. . . ."
"Well, is that a good thing or bad thing?" said Y/N, taking her cup and examining it. "Whatever . . Daphne, do Hermione's."
"Okay," said Daphne, picking up the cup, "well, it looks like you have a snake, which means an enemy of falsehood . . . er – a club, which means an attack is bound to happen . . . and a skull, which means there is danger in your path . . . so that means that . . . brush up on your defensive spells because danger is in your path due to one of your enemies disguised as a friend . . . well, that's not very good, Hermione. . . ."
Hermione huffed. "Well, Divination's a very woolly subject, so if you ask me, none of these readings are correct."
"Just because you got a bad reading. . . ." Y/N smirked, picking up Daphne's cup. She examined it and consulted her textbook, "Let's see, Daph . . . you have a key, which means be very cautious . . . uhm, a cloud, which says there's trouble in your path . . a sun, which is great happiness . . . and a spade, which is good fortune, so . . . uhm, be cautious because trouble is in your path, but be happy because you're rich . . . well, that doesn't make any sense . . . ."
"Again, Divination Isn't really reliable," said Hermione with a roll of her eyes. "Honestly, reading the future? As if."
Y/N's eyebrows shot to her hairline and they listened in on Harry and Ron's predictions. Professor Trelawney was at their table, and Hermione couldn't help but comment on her next statement.
"The falcon . . . my dear, you have a deadly enemy."
"But everyone knows that," said Hermione in a loud whisper. Professor Trelawney stared at her.
"Well, they do," said Hermione. "Everybody knows about Harry and You-Know-Who."
Professor Trelawney chose not to reply. She lowered her huge eyes to Harry's cup again and continued to turn it.
"The club . . . an attack. Dear, dear, this is not a happy cup . . ."
"I thought that was a bowler hat," said Ron sheepishly.
"The skull . . . danger in your path, my dear. . . ."
Everyone was staring, transfixed, at Professor Trelawney, who gave the cup a final turn, gasped, and then screamed.
There was another tinkle of breaking china; Neville had smashed his second cup. Professor Trelawney sank into a vacant armchair, her glittering hand at her heart and her eyes closed.
"My dear boy . . . my poor, dear boy . . . no . . . it is kinder not to say . . . no . . . don't ask me. . . ."
"What is it, Professor?" said Dean Thomas at once. Everyone had got to their feet, and slowly they crowded around Harry and Ron's table, pressing close to Professor Trelawney's chair to get a good look at Harry's cup. Y/N resisted shoving someone who had kneed her in the back.
"My dear," Professor Trelawney's huge eyes opened dramatically, "you have the Grim."
"The what?" said Harry.
Harry wasn't the only one who didn't understand; Y/N shrugged at him and Theodore looked puzzled (but perhaps that was just his face), but nearly everybody else clapped their hands to their mouths in horror.
"The Grim, my dear, the Grim!" cried Professor Trelawney, who looked shocked that Harry hadn't understood. "The giant, spectral dog that haunts the churchyards! My dear boy, it is an omen – the worst omen – of death!"
Y/N's stomach gave a great squeeze. She was supposed to protect Harry, but how was she supposed to do that when he was destined to die? Lavender Brown clapped her hands to her mouth too. Everyone was looking at Harry, everyone except Hermione, who had gotten up and moved around to the back of Professor Trelawney's chair.
"I don't think it looks like a Grim," she said flatly.
Professor Trelawney surveyed Hermione with mounting dislike.
"You'll forgive me for saying so, my dear, but I perceive very little aura around you. Very little receptivity to the resonances of the future."
Seamus Finnigan was tilting his head from side to side.
"It looks like a Grim if you do this," he said, with his eyes almost shut, "but it looks more like a donkey from here," he said, leaning to the left.
"When you've all finished deciding whether I'm going to die or not!" said Harry, taking everybody by surprise. Now nobody seemed to want to look at him, and Malfoy quietly snickered, vibrating against Y/N's back. She finally shoved him off, glaring as her arms crossed.
"I think we will leave the lesson here for today," said Professor Trelawney in her mistiest voice. "Yes . . . please pack away your things. . . ."
Silently the class took their teacups back to Professor Trelawney, packed away their books, and closed their bags.
"Until we meet again," said Professor Trelawney faintly, "fair fortune be yours. Oh, and dear" – she pointed at Neville – "you'll be late next time, so mind you work extra-hard to catch up."
Hermione and Y/N waited for Harry, Ron, Theodore, Blaise, and Daphne to descend the ladders before following behind. They let them walk ahead before hiding behind a statue of armor.
"I think one turn should do it," said Hermione as Y/N pulled the Time-Turner out from under her shirt. Nodding, she threw part of the chain over Hermione's head and turned once.
The corridor dissolved. Y/N felt that she was flying very fast, backward. A blur of colors and shapes rushed past her – and then she felt solid ground beneath her feet, and everything came into focus again – she was standing in the deserted Entrance Hall with three seconds until eight-thirty.
"Hermione!" Y/N whisper-yelled, and pulled her sister around the corner.
And three seconds later, past Harry, Ron, Hermione, Theodore, Blaise, and Y/N came out of the Hall, making for the staircases. Y/N let out a breath.
"C'mon, we have to go find the Muggle Studies classroom. . . ."
They ascended the Grand Staircase after their past selves, and hurried around the first-floor, looking for Professor Burbage's classroom. They soon found it and joined Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley. Soon, the students were welcomed into the classroom by a thin, seventy-year-old woman with blonde hair that went to her shoulders and warm, blue eyes.
The classroom itself was full of regular muggle items, like printers, vacuum cleaners, and radios. At every desk there was a pencil, a pen, lined and blank sheets of paper, and a stapler. Chuckling slightly, Y/N and Hermione took two seats by the window and awaited further instruction.
"Welcome to Muggle Studies!" said Professor Burbage delightfully, making her way to the front of the class. "Here, you will learn the history and daily lives of Muggles, and how they are able to live without magic, but instead use electricity, technology, and science."
Y/N sighed. She knew this class was going to be a bore, and didn't know why she checked it off the list. She would regret it later, but for right now, she could deal with it.
"Please open your textbooks to page eleven and read the definition of electricity," said Professor Burbage, smiling.
Grumbling under her breath, Y/N took out Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles and flipped it open to page eleven.
Electricity is a form of energy resulting from the existence of charged particles.
"Your assignment today is to find ten things Muggles use electricity for, and ten facts about electricity – and write them down on that paper using the pen," said Professor Burbage. "And then for your homework you will write an essay explaining who invented electricity and how they did by Monday. I'm here if you need me!"
She sat at her desk and everyone got to work. A second later, Muggle rock started playing, and Y/N looked up to see Professor Burbage smiling at her.
Maybe Muggle Studies wasn't going to be so bad.
Hermione and Y/N traveled back in time once more to attend their Arithmancy class. They quickly ran up to the seventh-floor corridor, and joined many of their peers at classroom 7A, including Hannah Abbott, Terry Boot, Zoe Accrington and, unfortunately, Draco Malfoy. Y/N rolled her eyes as she passed him, joining Zoe and making small talk.
Professor Vector, a witch with black hair and fair skin, gestured them inside. It was cold and slightly dark, but the number charts and the blackboard in the front of the room were brighter than anything in the room. Rows of tables were aligned neatly, all with their names on them – they had assigned seats?
Fortunately, Y/N found her seat at the back of the class next to Hermione . . . however, it was also next to Draco Malfoy. With a clench of her teeth, she plopped herself in her chair and set Numerology and Gramatica on the table.
"I heard Professor Vector was strict," said Hermione, taking her seat. Malfoy also took his seat, but Y/N ignored him. "But not as strict as Professor McGonagall. I hope I'll like her class, I didn't really like Muggle Studies. . . ."
Y/N agreed and examined the equation on the chalkboard:
2 + xy = 16
xy = 14
x = ?
y = ?
The class quieted as Professor Vector stood and said, "Can anyone tell me the answers to x and y?"
Y/N's hand shot up.
"Yes, Miss Granger?"
"X and y have infinite rational solutions and four solutions in natural numbers – which are one and fourteen, two and seven, seven and two, and fourteen and one," she said confidently.
"Excellent," said Professor Vector, writing the solutions in chalk. "Ten points to Slytherin – and you're exempted from tonight's homework."
Y/N smirked and glanced sideways at Hermione, who glared challengingly at her. Malfoy scoffed and muttered, "Little Miss Mudblood, always being the annoying know-it-all nobody likes."
"Seeing as you have to comment on everything I do, I'd say you like me, Malfoy," she said, turning her head to find his face only a few inches away. Lucky for her, the darkness of the room hid a deep blush that had found its way to her cheeks. "I'd even say you were obsessed with me, no?"
"Fuck no," he muttered, but his eyes briefly glanced down to her lips. They flew back up to her eyes, however, and his own narrowed darkly. "If you ask me, I'd say you were obsessed with me –"
"Well, I didn't ask you, now did I?" Y/N taunted, stealing his signature smirk as she enjoyed the way his eyes seemed to fire up.
For the rest of the lesson, Professor Vector explained the theory of Numerology and helped them with some practice problems out of their textbooks. Then they were told to complete the rest of the practice problems with the remaining fifteen minutes. When the bell rang for their next class, Professor Vector addressed the class:
"I want you all, except Miss Granger, to write an essay explaining the differences between rational and natural numbers," said Professor Vector, and a collective groan emitted from the classroom. Y/N grinned and packed up her stuff. "Due by Monday!" she called as they exited.
Y/N and Hermione rushed up to the North Tower and entered the corridor where the present Y/N and Hermione were just disappearing for Muggle Studies. Rushing, they emerged into the next corridor, joining the other Divination students and pushing through them to get to Harry, Ron, Theodore, Blaise, and Daphne.
"See you at lunch!" called Y/N as she, Theodore, Blaise, and Daphne departed from Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They headed down to the greenhouses, where they met the other Slytherins and the Hufflepuffs. Malfoy looked to be in a bad mood.
"Honestly, allowing them extra classes and Quidditch Captain? The Mudbloods have too much privilege around here," he scoffed. Parkinson screeched her agreement.
Theodore and Blaise flanked Y/N and Daphne on either side and steered them to the front of the Slytherins, far away from Draco Malfoy and his posse. Professor Sprout warmly greeted them and ushered them inside Greenhouse three, where they found gloves, pots, and bowls of seeds. Professor Sprout instructed them to put on their gloves and examine their seeds.
"Can anyone identify this type of seed and its properties?" she asked. Y/N's hand, once again, shot up. "Miss Granger?"
"Valerian, or Valeriana Officinalis, is recognized for its sedative and antispasmodic properties, and so was used as a sleep and nerve remedy and later as a treatment for epilepsy," said Y/N.
Professor Sprout smiled. "Correct, Miss Granger. Ten points to Slytherin."
Y/N grinned. She had already earned twenty points for Slytherin and it wasn't even lunch yet. She could even say her back hurt from carrying the Slytherin House, but she didn't fancy having a talk with Malfoy about that.
Professor Sprout taught them how to plant Valerian seeds and grow it. She showed them an already-grown Valerian plant and showed them how to make plants grow faster with magic. So, all class, they grew their Valerian seeds, and when they were finished with that, grew the first and second years' plants.
The lunch bell soon rang and the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs hurried up to the castle, quickly scrubbing off the dirt on their hands and joining everyone in the Great Hall.
"So during Divination, right, my cup said I should be cautious because there's trouble in my path, but I should be happy because I'm rich," said Daphne, stacking toastie after toastie on her plate. "That doesn't make any sense . . ."
"Well at least you didn't get The Grim!" Theodore imitated Professor Trelawney's spookiness and they erupted with laughter. "Mum always said to never trust Divination because all the Seers are the equivalent to Muggle Crackheads."
"I don't think she's wrong," said Y/N, still chuckling. "I mean, they're bound to be if they see The Grim! in everybody's cup . . . freaking out like that. . . ."
They were pleased to get out of the castle after lunch. Yesterday's rain had cleared; the sky was a clear, pale grey, and the grass was springy and damp underfoot as they see off for their first-ever Care of Magical Creatures class.
Ron and Hermione weren't speaking to each other when they joined them. They were as far away from each other as possible and ignored whatever the other said as they went down the sloping lawns to Hagrid's hut on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
Hagrid was waiting for his class at the door of his hut. He stood in his moleskin overcoat, with Fang and Goldfish at his heels, looking impatient to start.
"C'mon, now, get a move on!" he called as the class approached. "Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin' up! Everyone here? Right, follow me!"
For one nasty moment, Y/N thought that Hagrid was going to lead them into the forest; Y/N had had enough unpleasant experiences in there to last her a lifetime. However, Hagrid strolled off around the edge of the trees, and five minutes later, they found themselves outside a kind of paddock. There was nothing in there.
"Everyone gather 'round the fence here!" he called. "That's it – make sure yeh can see – now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books –"
"How?" said the cold, drawling voice of Malfoy.
"Eh?" said Hagrid.
"How do we open our books?" Malfoy repeated. He took out his copy of The Monster Book of Monsters, which he had bound shut with a length of rope. Other people took theirs out too; some had belted their book shut; others had crammed them inside tight bags or clamped them together with binder clips.
Y/N was confused. Were they dunderheads?
"You've got to stroke them," she said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Honestly, have you even tried to calm it?"
"Oh, how silly we've all been!" Malfoy sneered, standing above Y/N. She glared up at him. "We should have stroked them! Why didn't we guess!"
"I – I thought they were funny," Hagrid said uncertainly to Y/N.
"Oh, tremendously funny!" said Malfoy. "Really witty, giving us books that try and rip our hands off!"
"I wish it'd ripped your face off," Y/N muttered.
"What was that, Granger?"
"Just shut up, dumbarse," Y/N grumbled, and turned her back to Malfoy.
"Righ' then," said Hagrid, who seemed to have lost his thread, "so – so yeh've got yer books an' – an' now yeh need the Magical Creatures. Yeah. So I'll go an' get 'em. Hang on . . ."
He strode away from them into the forest and out of sight.
"God, this place is going to the dogs," said Malfoy loudly. "That oaf teaching classes, my father'll have a fit when I tell him –"
"Shut up, Malfoy," said Harry fiercely.
"Careful, Potter, there a dementor behind you –"
"Oooooooh!" squealed Lavender Brown, pointing toward the opposite side of the paddock.
Trotting toward them were a dozen of the most bizarre creatures Y/N had ever seem. They had the bodies, hind legs, and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings, and heads of what seemed to be giant eagles, with cruel, steel-colored beaks and large, brilliantly orange eyes. The talons on their front legs were half a foot long and deadly looking. Each of the beasts had a thick leather collar around its neck, which was attached to a long chain, and the ends of all of these were held in the vast hands of Hagrid, who came jogging into the paddock behind the creatures.
"Get up, there!" he roared, shaking the chains and urging the creatures toward the fence where the class stood. Everyone drew back slightly as Hagrid reached them and tethered the creatures to the fence.
"Hippogriffs!" Hagrid roared happily, waving a hand at them. "Beau'iful, aren' they?"
Y/N could see what Hagrid meant. Once you got over the first shock of seeing something that was half horse, half bird, you started to appreciate the hippogriffs' gleaming coats, changing smoothly from feather to hair, each of them a different color: stormy grey, bronze, pinkish roan, gleaming chestnut, inky black, and white-blonde.
"So," said Hagrid, rubbing his hands together and beaming around, "if yeh wan' ter come a bit nearer –"
No one seemed to want to. Y/N, however, took off her robe and she, Harry, Ron, and Hermione approached the fence cautiously.
"Now, firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' hippogriffs is, they're proud," said Hagrid. "Easily offended, hippogriffs are. Don't never insult one, 'cause it might be the last thing yeh do."
"Sounds like someone we know," Y/N muttered.
Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Parkinson weren't listening; they were talking in an undertone and Y/N had a nasty feeling they were plotting how to best disrupt the lesson.
"Yeh always wait fer the hippogriff ter make the firs' move," Hagrid continued. "It's polite, see? Yeh walk toward him, and yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. If he doesn' bow, then get away from him sharpish, 'cause those talons hurt.
"Right – who wants ter go first?"
Most of the class backed farther away in answer. Even Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Y/N had misgivings. The hippogriffs were tossing their fierce heads and flexing their powerful wings; they didn't seem to like being tethered like this.
"No one?" said Hagrid, with a pleading look.
"I'll do it," said Harry and Y/N in union. They gave each other unimpressed looks.
There was an intake of breath from behind them, and both Lavender and Parvati whispered, "Oooh, no, Harry, remember your tea leaves!"
They ignored them and Harry helped Y/N climb over the paddock fence, hopping clumsily (and without help) over, himself.
"Good hearts, Harry an' Y/N!" roared Hagrid. "Right then – let's see how yeh get on with Buckbeak an' Belliana!"
He untied two of the chains, pulled the gray hippogriff and the white-blonde hippogriff from their fellows, and slipped off their leather collars. The class on the other side of the paddock seemed to be holding its breath. Malfoy's eyes were narrowed maliciously.
"Easy, now, Harry, Y/N," said Hagrid quietly as Harry went over to the grey hippogriff. Y/N carefully approached the white-blonde. "Yeh've got eye contact, now try not ter blink. . . . Hippogriffs don' trust yeh if yeh blink too much. . . ."
"Watch out, Daphne, you blink too much for comfort," muttered Y/N to herself as she maintained eye contact with the white-blonde hippogriff – Belliana. She had turned her great, sharp head and was staring at Y/N with one fierce orange eye.
"That's it," said Hagrid. "That's it, you two . . . now, bow . . ."
Y/N bowed deeply to Belliana – a moments' hesitation and –
– The hippogriff suddenly bent its scaly front knees and sank into what was an unmistakable bow.
"Well done, Harry an' Y/N!" said Hagrid, ecstatic. "Right – yeh can touch 'em! Pat their beaks, go one!"
Y/N moved slowly toward the hippogriff and reached out toward her. She patted the beak several times and the hippogriff closed her eyes lazily, as though enjoying it.
The class broke into applause, all except for Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Parkinson, who were looking deeply disappointed.
"Righ' then, you two," said Hagrid. "I reckon Buckbeak might' let yeh both ride him!"
This was more than Y/N had bargained for. She was used to a broomstick; but she wasn't sure a hippogriff would be quite the same.
Hagrid picked Y/N up easily and plopped her on Buckbeak's back, instructing her to hold onto him tightly; Harry soon climbed on, wrapping his arms around Y/N's mid as instructed.
"Mind yeh, don' pull any of his feathers out, he won' like that. . . ."
Buckbeak stood up and Y/N wasn't sure how this could play out. However, before she could bounce Hagrid had slapped the hippogriff's hindquarters.
Without warning, twelve-foot wings flapped open on either side of Harry and Y/N; Y/N wanted to seize Harry but also didn't want to fall off – so she opted for clutching Buckbeak tightly 'round the neck. It was nothing like a broomstick, and Y/N knew which one she preferred; the hippogriff's wings beat uncomfortably on either side of them, catching them under their legs and making them feel like they were about to be thrown off; the glossy feathers slipped under Y/N's fingers and she didn't dare get a stronger grip; instead of the smooth action of her Nimbus Two Thousand, she now felt herself rocking backward and forward as the hindquarters of the hippogriff rose and fell with its wings.
Buckbeak flew Harry and Y/N once around the paddock and then headed back to the ground; this was the bit Y/N had been dreading; she leaned back against Harry as the smooth neck lowered, feeling like she was going to slip off over the beak, then felt a heavy thud as the four ill-assorted feet hit the ground. Once they were stable, Y/N leaned her head back on Harry's shoulder, letting out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. He patted her forehead comfortingly.
Y/N hoped Malfoy was watching.
"Good work, Harry an' Y/N!" roared Hagrid as everyone except Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Parkinson cheered. "Okay, who else wants a go?"
Emboldened by their success, the rest of the class climbed cautiously into the paddock. Hagrid untied the hippogriffs one by one, and soon people were bowing nervously, all over the paddock. Neville ran repeatedly backward from his, which didn't seem to want to bend its knees. Ron and Hermione practised on the chestnut and Theodore, Blaise, and Daphne practised on the inky black, while Harry and Y/N watched, already off Buckbeak and on the edge of the paddock.
Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Parkinson had taken over Buckbeak. He had bowed to Malfoy, who was now patting his beak, looking disdainful.
"This is very easy," Malfoy drawled, loud enough for Harry and Y/N to hear him. "I knew it must have been if Potter and the Mudblood could do it. . . . I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you?" he said to the hippogriff. "Are you, you great ugly brute?"
It happened in a flash of steely talons; Malfoy let out a high-pitched scream and next moment, Hagrid was wrestling Buckbeak back into his collar as he strained to get at Malfoy, who lay curled in the grass, blood blossoming over his robes.
"I'm dying!" Malfoy yelled as the class panicked. "I'm dying, look at me! It's killed me!"
"Yer not dyin'!" said Hagrid, who had gone very white. "Someone help me – gotta get him outta here –"
Hermione ran to hold open the gate as Hagrid lifted Malfoy easily. As they passed, Y/N saw that there was a long, deep gash on Malfoy's arm; blood splattered the grass and Hagrid with him, up the slope toward the castle.
"Stupid git," Y/N muttered to Harry and grabbed her stuff. They, and the rest of the Care of Magical Creatures class followed at a walk. Malfoy's friends were all shouting at Hagrid.
"They should fire him straight away!" said Pansy Parkinson, who was in tears.
"Oh, give it a rest, Parkinson!" snapped Y/N. "If you four would stop being dumbarses and listen –"
Crabbe and Goyle flexed their muscles threateningly.
"Oh, you two can give it a rest, too!" Y/N snarled at Crabbe and Goyle. They unsurely backed away.
"I'm going to see if he's okay!" said Parkinson, and they all watched her run up the marble staircase.
"Pathetic moron," Daphne muttered as they headed for the dungeons for their free period before Transfiguration.
"Malfoy doesn't even like her," agreed Theodore, and they reached the long stretch of wall.
"Malfoy only like one person," said Blaise, and they collapsed on the leather sofas in front of the fire. "And it's not Parkinson, not your bimbo sister, Daph, not any of these stupid first or second-years . . ."
"Well?" said Y/N, anxious to get blackmail.
"I don't spill secrets, pinhead," Blaise said, rolling his eyes. Y/N threatened to throw a book at his head. "You don't scare me at all, nitwit."
Y/N glared at Blaise, who gave her a fake smile.
Their Double-Transfiguration lesson went by in a flash; soon, they were in the Great Hall for dinnertime, listening to Crabbe and Goyle make up their own, wretched version of what happened in Care of Magical Creatures. Y/N, finishing up soon, drank the last of her specially made coffee and informed Theodore, Blaise, and Daphne where she was going.
"I've got to go tell that Malfoy git Quidditch Try-Outs are this Friday," she said with a roll of her eyes, "and he's got to be there."
They waved her off and she hurried up to the hospital wing, intending to make her visit short and sour. She found Parkinson, tear-stained, beside Malfoy's bed, and found herself rolling her eyes, yet again. Y/N also found Goldfish laying in Malfoy's lap and was instantly betrayed – yet again.
"You again?" she muttered to Parkinson, standing at the end of Malfoy's bed. Y/N crossed her arms. "Whatever," she said and turned to Malfoy, "Quidditch try-outs are Friday and you're required to be there."
Malfoy nodded, staring at her, and Parkinson perked up. She said, "What time? I'm going to try-out."
Y/N gave her a dead look and Malfoy snickered.
"Okay let me get this straight: You? Not on my team," she said sharply. "You're not allowed to try-out for my team. Matter of fact, you're not even allowed to be on, near, or around the pitch during try-outs. If I see you, I hex you. Got it?"
"But –"
"You're going to jinx it for the team if you come near us," Y/N glared. "Actually, you've already jinxed the season. We're going to lose, because of you. Thanks, alot, Pugface."
Y/N sped out of the Hospital Wing, coming face-to-face with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who paused in shock. They stood, looking at each other suspiciously before Y/N asked,
"Where are you three going?"
"Where are you coming from?" said Ron quickly, looking at the hospital wing doors.
"I was telling Malfoy he had to attend Quidditch try-outs," said Y/N. "You?"
"We're going to Hagrid's hut," said Ron, relaxing. "Come along?"
"Sure," said Y/N, and she joined them on their trek. "So Pansy Parkinson asks if she could try-out for my team."
"Of course you said no," said Harry, slightly snickering.
"Obviously," Y/N said, rolling her eyes. "Honestly, she's already jinxed the season for Slytherin, and it hasn't even started! The fuckin' nerve."
Y/N shook her head in disgust as they approached the hut. Knocking thrice, they waited briefly and a voice growled, "C'min."
Hagrid was sitting in his shirtsleeves at his scrubbed wooden table; his boarhound, Fang, had his head in Hagrid's lap. One look told them that Hagrid had been drinking a lot; there was a pewter tankard almost as big as a bucket in front of him, and he seemed to be having difficulty getting them into focus.
"'Spect it's a record," he said thickly, when he recognized them. "Don' reckon they're never had a teacher who lasted on'y a day before."
"You haven't been fired, Hagrid!" gasped Hermione.
"Not yet," said Hagrid miserably, taking a huge gulp of whatever was in the tankard. "But 's only a matter o' time, i'n't it, after Malfoy . . ."
"How is he?" said Ron as they all sat down. "It wasn't serious, was it?"
"Madam Pomfrey fixed him best she could," said Hagrid dully, "but he's sayin' it's still agony . . . covered in bandages . . . moanin' . . ."
"He's faking it," said Harry at once. "Madam Pomfrey can mend anything. She regrew half my bones last year. Trust Malfoy to milk it for all it's worth."
"School gov'nors have bin told, o'course," said Hagrid miserably. "They reckon I started too big. Shoulda left hippogriffs fer later . . . done flobberworms or summat. . . . Jus' thought it'd make a good firs' lesson. . . . 'S all my fault. . . ."
"It's all Malfoy's fault, Hagrid!" said Hermione earnestly.
"We're witnesses," said Harry. "You said hippogriffs attack if you insult them. It's Malfoy's problem that he wasn't listening. We'll tell Dumbledore what really happened."
"Yeah, don't worry, Hagrid, we'll back you up," said Ron.
Tears leaked out of the crinkled corners of Hagrid's beetle-black eyes. He grabbed both Harry and Ron and pulled them into a bone-breaking hug.
"I think you've had enough to drink, Hagrid," said Y/N firmly. She took the tankard from the table and went outside to empty it. Soon after, Hagrid himself came outside too, and stuck his head in the water barrel. Y/N gave him a look and headed back inside, putting the tankard away.
"What's he done?" said Harry nervously.
"Stuck his head in the water barrel," she said, and Hagrid came back, his long hair and beard sopping wet, wiping the water out of his eyes.
"Tha's better," he said, shaking his head like a dog and drenching them all. "Listen, it was good of yeh ter come an' see me, I really –"
Hagrid stopped dead, staring at Harry as though he'd only just realized he was there.
"WHAT D'YEH THINK YOU'RE DOIN', EH?" he roared, so suddenly that they jumped a foot in the air. "YEH'RE NOT TO GO WANDERIN' AROUND AFTER DARK, HARRY! AN' YOU THREE! LETTIN' HIM!"
Hagrid strode over to Harry, grabbed his arm, and pulled him to the door. Ron, Hermione, and Y/N followed.
"C'mon!" Hagrid said angrily. "I'm takin' yer all back up ter school, an' don' let me catch yeh walkin' down ter see me after dark again. I'm not worth that!"