Dealing with Danger
Chapter 6: Feasts, Fights, and Feathers (Year 3)
By Anne B. Walsh
Chapter 6: Feasts, Fights, and Feathers
Thestral-drawn carriages bumped their way towards the school, each with a cargo of students on board. Harry leaned back against the cushioned seat, his eyes shut, trying not to think about what he’d heard on the train. He knew that dementors forced people to relive their worst memories. What he didn’t know was how far back those memories went. Could he really have heard...
No. I don’t want to think about it.
Another reason to have his eyes shut was so that he didn’t have to look at the rest of the Pride, at least the half of it crammed into the carriage with him. He was certain that Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were all looking at him, and that the only thing keeping them from asking him questions was the fact that he was assiduously ignoring them.
Finally, when he couldn’t stand the sounds of whispering and tapping any longer, he opened one eye just a slit. Hermione and Ginny had their heads together and were poring over a book Hermione had produced from inside her cloak. Ron was looking at the opposite wall of the carriage, over the girls’ heads, and drumming his hands on his knees in a complicated rhythm cadence Harry thought he recognized, but wasn’t sure.
Feeling relieved, Harry shifted to look out the window. The carriage was coming up the road outside Hogwarts now, he could see the stone gateposts —
And the black-hooded dementors standing guard, one on either side of the gate. Harry shut his eyes again quickly and tried to think of something happy, anything to combat the sick chill that was starting to build in his stomach.
"Dinner," he heard Ron muttering. "We’ll have dinner when we get to the castle. Chops and potatoes and ham and chicken and carrots and peas..."
"And then pudding," Ginny answered from across the carriage. "I want ice cream and chocolate cake."
"Apple pie for me," said Hermione. "And hot spiced pumpkin juice to go with it."
The sick feeling was ebbing, whether from the carriage passing the dementors or from his friends’ chatter Harry couldn’t tell. He was grateful to them twice over, though, for distracting him without making it too obvious what they were doing. "I hope they have shepherd’s pie," he said, opening his eyes. "And pumpkin tart after. Did anyone see how many first years there are this year?"
"Didn’t look like too many," said Ron. "Maybe the Sorting’ll go fast. Hope it does, I’m starving."
"You’re always starving," said Hermione. "Anyone would think your mum never feeds you."
Ginny looked over at Harry and rolled her eyes. Harry shrugged slightly and offered her a small smile as Ron and Hermione continued to bicker.
Finally the carriage rolled to a stop in front of the great stone steps of Hogwarts castle, and the occupants of the carriage got out. Ron was about to go up the steps when Hermione snagged a fold of his cloak. "Wait for the others," she hissed at him.
The next carriage rumbled up stopped, and Meghan leapt out, followed by Luna. Neville climbed down and offered Draco his hand, but the blond boy waved it away politely, sliding out of the coach without assistance. Draco’s face was still paler than usual, Harry saw, and he stood still a moment before stepping away from the carriage, which moved hastily away when he was clear of it.
"Hello, Harry," said an excited voice beside him. Harry turned.
"Hello, Colin," he said to a small Gryffindor second year, who was dancing up and down in place.
"Did you see the dementor, Harry?" asked Colin breathlessly. "It came right into our compartment — one of the girls screamed, and I felt cold and sick all over — did it come into your compartment?"
"Yes," said Harry as Moony and Danger climbed out of their carriage, which had been next in line. "But Professor Lupin chased it out."
"Who’s Professor Lupin?"
"I’m Professor Lupin," said Moony, stepping up beside Harry. "I’ll be teaching Defense this year. You must be Colin Creevey, Harry’s told me about you."
Colin’s eyes widened even more than usual at the thought that Harry Potter had told someone about him. "Really, sir? He — he did?"
"Inside," muttered Danger, shooing the Pride in front of her. "Come on, the sooner we’re in the sooner you lot can sit down."
Sitting down sounded good to Harry. He hadn’t realized his knees were still wobbly. He climbed the stairs as quickly as he could so as not to make it obvious to anyone that he didn’t feel too well, then followed the crowd of students into the Great Hall and found seats along the Gryffindor table for himself, Ron, Neville, and Draco — the girls had split off and were sliding into places along the other side of the long House table.
"You all right now?" Draco asked Harry under the noise of several hundred students reunited after two months of separation.
"Fine. You?"
"I’ll manage."
"Oi, Harry!" called Seamus Finnegan from down the table. "A dementor come in your compartment at all?"
"Yeah," Harry called back. "Yours?"
Seamus nodded. "Nasty things," he said with conviction. "What’re they doing here, anyway? What would Lucius Malfoy want at Hogwarts?"
"Who knows," said Harry with as careless a shrug as he could manage on short notice. "How’s your summer?"
"Fine. Yours?"
"Not too bad. We had a lot of fun playing capture-the-flag and team sneak attacks and things like that."
"All right for some," said Seamus, making a face. "I’m the only wizard for miles where I live, and Mum won’t let me Floo by myself, so I can’t go visiting unless she comes along."
Harry made a sympathetic noise and would have replied, but Ron poked him. "First years," he said under his breath.
Professor McGonagall led a line of white-faced, slightly damp eleven-year-olds up the center aisle of the Great Hall. Harry felt a little sorry for them — why was Sorting such a big mystery, anyway, he wondered? Maybe it was just that it was a tradition to keep it mysterious. But they wouldn’t be scared too much longer.
Professor McGonagall produced stool and Sorting Hat, set them down in front of the first years, and stepped away. Harry grinned to see the first years’ open mouths as the Hat opened its own mouth, or rip, and began to sing.
Well, I declare! Upon my soul!
(If soul a hat can own.)
Each year I sit upon my stool
Like king upon his throne,
And welcome into Hogwarts School
A crop of students new,
And every year those students have
The options facing you.
Will you end up in Hufflepuff,
Where workers all belong,
And loyal hearts and true are sent
When finished is my song?
Perhaps you’ll be a Gryffindor,
And wander in the land,
Impressing all and charming some
With brave deeds of your hand.
Or if you love to think and ponder
Rather than to roam,
Then you would rather Ravenclaw
Became your school years’ home.
But if you think in crooked paths
And aim for power high,
Then Slytherin is quite the place,
So give it now a try.
I listen well to what you say,
And what you leave unsaid,
So I shall Sort you rightly here;
There is no need for dread.
You must advance and try me on,
So summon up your heart —
For all of you must Sorted be
Before the feast can start!
Even the first years laughed at this, and joined in the applause offered by the rest of the school. Professor McGonagall stepped forward with her list and began to read names. Harry watched with half his attention, applauding when a new Gryffindor was chosen, joining Ron in surreptitious boos every time the Hat shouted "SLYTHERIN!"
When the Sorting was finished and Professor McGonagall had removed the Hat and the stool, Professor Dumbledore stood up, gaining everyone’s attention. "A new year at Hogwarts," he said. "A new crop of students, a few new faces here at the High Table, and one important and quite serious announcement which I beg your indulgence to hear before the feast begins."
"He never does announcements before the feast," whispered Hermione. "What’s going on?"
"As you are all by now aware, Hogwarts is at the moment being guarded by dementors, who normally guard the prison of Azkaban but some of whom have been asked to come here by the Ministry of Magic. All entrances and exits of Hogwarts grounds are being watched, and I wish to make it entirely clear that no student is to leave these grounds for any reason without permission. Dementors are not fooled by common tricks or disguises, or even uncommon ones such as Invisibility Cloaks, and they will not heed excuses, no matter how clever."
"I wonder who he’s talking to?" murmured Draco, his eyes lingering on Fred and George.
"I would be loath to have to inform any of your families that you ran afoul of a dementor. I will, of course, be relying on the prefects, the Head Boy and Girl, and the teachers to help protect you, but you will defend yourselves best by staying within the school and grounds, where dementors are not permitted to come. If any students are found straying too close to the dementors, punishments for the survivors will be quite severe."
Harry saw Ron gulp. He wasn’t surprised. Dumbledore didn’t usually exaggerate.
"Now, some happier news," said Dumbledore after a moment to allow his words to sink in. "Two new teachers have joined us this year, and one whom you all know but will be seeing in a different place. First, Professor Remus Lupin, who will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts."
Moony bowed in acknowledgement of the polite applause.
"Professor Gertrude Granger-Lupin, an adjunct teacher of Muggle Studies."
Danger inclined her head.
"And finally, I am sorry to report that our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, Professor Kettleburn, tendered his retirement over the summer. In his place, however, I am delighted to announce the appointment of our own Rubeus Hagrid."
Hermione and Meghan squealed together as the Great Hall, the Gryffindor table more than any other, exploded into applause. "That explains the biting book!" shouted Ron, laughing and pumping his fist in the air. Harry stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly, when he could stop grinning long enough to do it.
Hagrid was bright red under his whiskers, staring at the table but unable to completely hide his huge grin. Danger, sitting next to him, passed him a handkerchief, which looked absurdly small in his hand. He wiped his eyes with it as the clapping died down, then offered it back to her, but she refused, telling him to keep it, and no wonder, Harry thought. It was completely saturated.
"It is always a pleasure to hear enthusiasm," said Dumbledore when the Hall was quiet again. "So in order to hear it again, I say — let us eat!"
There was another round of applause, this one brief, as people needed their hands for other things than clapping, like serving themselves and wielding knives and forks. It seemed exposure to a dementor, among other things, made people hungry afterwards.
"It uses up a lot of energy to be scared," said Hermione when Harry pointed this out. "Your body gets ready to run away or fight whatever it is that’s scaring you."
"Ron must be scared all the time, then," quipped Draco, prompting Ron to fling a forkful of sweet potato at him. Draco retaliated with a forkful of his mashed potatoes, and the rest of the Pride was just about to join in when a small burst of flame in the center of the table startled them all.
Guiltily, Harry put down a spoonful of peas and looked up at the High Table. Danger was staring at them, and when she saw she had their attention, shook her head firmly. Then she displayed a hand-sign, one which made Harry chuckle.
Later.
"Is she saying we can have a food fight later?" asked Meghan.
"I think so," said Ginny. "Maybe in private."
"Den-night, anyone?" said Ron, wiping mashed potato off his sleeve. "Food fight in the kitchen?"
"Only if you convince the house-elves to clean it up," said Harry. "Or do it yourselves."
"Yourselves?" repeated Draco. "As if you’re not going to be part of it."
"Well, it wasn’t my idea, and it’s my kitchen."
"Your kitchen? Since when?"
"Since I’m the only one who uses it."
"You are not."
"Am too, Mr. I-burned-a-salad."
"That was an accident! And croutons are supposed to be crunchy!"
"Yes, but setting them on fire with your wand wasn’t the best way to get them crunchy, was it?" said Hermione.
"I didn’t mean to set them on fire! I just wanted to heat them up!"
At last, dessert faded from the golden plates and Dumbledore announced bedtime. The Pride hurried up to the High Table to congratulate Hagrid on his new appointment.
"I’ll be relyin’ on Meghan ter patch me up if I make any mistakes," he said, beaming at them all. "An’ I’ve got yeh older ones — all of yeh — in my firs’ class! Monday after lunch, don’ be late!"
"Don’t worry, we won’t," said Harry. "We’ll see you then, Professor."
Hagrid nodded hard, dabbing at his eyes with Danger’s handkerchief. Danger herself and Professor Sprout had vanished through a side door with Zacharias Smith in tow. Moony was talking with Professor Snape, or listening to him, rather —
And then suddenly Professor Snape was staggering back, clutching his jaw, and Moony was shaking out his hand as though he’d punched something hard. Which he had.
"He just hit him," whispered Hermione incredulously. "Moony just hit Snape!"
Snape appeared more than ready to return the favor, but Dumbledore stepped between the two wizards and held up his hand. "Gentlemen, please," he said politely. "I think we should discuss this in my office. Come with me."
Snape and Moony followed him out of the Great Hall, each glowering at the other.
Ron shook his head. "It’s not fair," he said. "I’ve always wanted to do that."
xXxXx
"My father works at the Daily Prophet," admitted Zacharias Smith, squirming under Professor Sprout’s eye. "They got a letter there saying that Draco Black had run away. I thought maybe he’d gone to try to find his father, especially because the letter made a big point of his being born Draco Malfoy."
"That letter was a fake," said Danger, clenching her teeth between sentences. "The Prophet was informed of that."
"It’s easy for someone to say it’s a fake," said Smith sullenly. "Why wouldn’t he want to go find his father?"
"Whether he wanted to or not, whether it was a fake or not, does not excuse what you said in that hallway, Smith," said Professor Sprout sternly. "You admit that Professor Granger-Lupin has it correct?"
"Yeah, that’s right," said Smith after a poisonous glance at the parchment Professor Sprout held out for his perusal and another at Danger herself. "I said that."
"Three days’ detention," said Professor Sprout. "And you’re to apologize to Black in my presence within the week."
"What?" Smith looked astonished. "Apologize?"
"Yes, apologize. You slandered another student, and he deserves an apology from you. I’m ashamed of you, Smith. Maybe Severus encourages his students to insult their fellows, but I never have. You’re dismissed, and I’ll not have you whining that you were unfairly treated."
Smith slunk out of the office, glowering.
"Thank you," said Danger. "Of course, I expected nothing less from the head of Hufflepuff House. Fairness and justice is what you do best."
"Go along with you, before you turn my head, child," chided Professor Sprout gently, but she was smiling. "I recall that madcap husband of yours when he was a boy, and if you’re any right match for him, we’re in for a wilder year even than last."
"We’ll try." Danger winked at her and slipped out of the Herbology teacher’s office, reopening her mental connection with Remus, which she had closed so as not to bother him with her troubled emotions while she watched Sprout deal with Smith.
She was amazed to find his emotions in as much or more of a tangle than her own had been. What happened to you?
None of your business, said Remus brusquely.
It’s not?
No. It’s not. The connection closed as if he’d slammed a door in her face.
Well, I like that. Danger found her temper rising again. None of my business? It’s not as if I shut you out of what I do! And what do you think I’m going to do, shout at you instead of listening?
"Professor?" said a voice beside her.
She blinked. "Oh, Ginny. Hello."
"You wouldn’t know why Professor Lupin punched Professor Snape, would you?"
What? "I’m sorry?"
The rest of the Pride seemed to appear out of the shadows of the entrance hall. "It’s true," said Hermione. "He just hit him. They were talking — well, Professor Snape was talking, and Moony, I mean Professor Lupin, was listening — and then all of a sudden Professor Lupin just hit him."
Danger shook her head slowly, confused. What in the world could Snape have said to him to make him lose his temper like that?
"Professor?"
Danger came out of her momentary trance, recalling that the Pride was still gathered around her. "Oh, I’m sorry. No, I don’t know what happened. I’m sure the gossip chain will have it soon. To bed with you now, and no sneaking around where everyone can see you."
The Pride shared secret grins. "Yes, ma’am," said Harry. He made a signal to Neville, then turned and led the way up the stairs. The rest of the Pride followed, and as Danger watched them, they seemed to blur under her eyes, becoming, if not entirely invisible, hard to see. When she looked away, then tried to look back at the place she knew they should be, her eyes slid away from them, refusing to acknowledge that they were there.
She chuckled. Literalists. At least they won’t get in trouble for being out of bed.
And speaking of bed…
May I ask where you are? she sent flatly, keeping her emotions out of it as much as she could.
I’m on my way to the Defense teacher’s quarters. The response was as dry and bland as her query had been. You?
In the entrance hall, on my way up.
Fine. The connection closed abruptly once more.
Oh, Remus. Why did you do it?
She wasn’t quite sure yet how to feel. It depended on how much more of their enemy Snape became after this, and to some degree on why Remus had done it.
But just being provoked isn’t enough. Not for an adult wizard, not in public, and not when he’s supposed to be your colleague. And especially not for a teacher. We have to set a good example, and brawling in public does not count!
By the time she reached her new quarters, her emotional state had settled into annoyance verging on anger. Our first day — no, not even our first day — and you have to go and pull a stunt like this! Keep this up, and I’ll start thinking Sirius isn’t the only one with bone where his brains ought to be!
The door opened before she could touch it. "Don’t even start," Remus warned her, stepping back to let her in, his eyes icy blue with only the barest touch of brown.
"Why not?"
"Because I already know what you feel about this."
"Don’t start telling me I’m broadcasting again. I closed off against you when you did against me."
"I’m sure you did. But even if I can’t hear you, I can feel you, and you’re mad at me, aren’t you? Angry because I hit Snivellus?"
Danger stared at her husband. He never called Snape by the disrespectful nickname James Potter and Sirius had used in their Hogwarts days. "What in the world is wrong with you?"
"Harry is not the only one who can be pushed too far." Remus whirled and shot a ball of flame into the fireplace. "Would you care to hear what exactly put me over the edge?" The wood in the fireplace was crackling as though it had been burning for hours.
"Go ahead," said Danger, seating herself and preparing to calm a firestorm, should Remus lose his temper completely.
"He inquired how I planned to keep our children safe from the many threats in the world. He reminded me that Lucius Malfoy would likely want Draco, as he put it, ‘undamaged.’ And he suggested that if I were to ‘damage’ him sufficiently, Lucius would leave him alone."
"What type of damage did he suggest?" Danger suspected she knew, but she wanted to hear Remus say it.
"Do I really need to tell you that?" Another fireball followed the first, incinerating the wood entirely and leaving a pile of ash. "He suggested that I bite Draco. He dared to suggest that it would be the truly fatherly thing to do, to curse my own son and ruin his life as mine was ruined! I should have thrown him through the wall, not just hit him!"
"I’m glad you didn’t!" Danger was on her feet, appalled. "I can’t believe I’m hearing you right! I thought you were beyond this sort of thing, Remus! You know perfectly well Snape spews poison as easily as he breathes — I would have thought you’d laugh it off, or turn it around on him to make him look like the idiot he is! You can’t go around hitting everyone who says something rude to you!"
"Laugh it off? Let him say that to my face? What kind of man do you think I am?"
"A civilized one, I’d thought!"
"Civilized?" Remus made a sound which might have been a laugh, if it hadn’t been so angry. "Tame, you mean. Coming to your call, submitting to your every whim. No, thank you. You may be in it more than I’d like, but I do still have a mind of my own! I’m not so much of a tame werewolf as all that!"
Danger stared at him, open-mouthed. "How in the world did you come up with that? I’ve never wanted you to be like that! I was trying to be helpful, and you’ve taken everything I said the wrong way! Well, fine, then! If you hate me that much, I’ll just take myself out of your sight!"
"You do that!"
"Fine!" Danger crossed the room in three strides to the entrance to the private quarters, then whirled for a parting shot. "And you can sleep on the couch!"
She slammed the door shut behind her.
xXxXx
Remus threw himself down on the couch, his anger having ceased to blaze with the slam of the door, but now smoldering.
That was incredibly stupid of me. Alienating her the night before a full moon. I don’t think she would refuse to come to me, but she could certainly keep me in suspense about it.
Why are we suddenly fighting so much? We survived an entire year at home together, without anyone else around, and we almost never fought then. Maybe it’s just the stress that’s making her so unreasonable.
I’ll leave her alone for tonight. She’ll come around eventually. And if she doesn’t...
Well, there’s always the Shrieking Shack.
Suddenly exhausted, he drew his wand and put the lights out with it. Enough. I need sleep. Maybe tomorrow will be more survivable.
xXxXx
The Lupins’ coolness towards one another the next morning at breakfast was notable. Severus’ open disdain for them both, of course, was nothing new, but it was unusual to see the two of them acknowledging each other with polite nods and nothing more. Dumbledore hoped they had not fought, but had to admit they probably had.
I wish I had not had to speak to Remus in that way. But I cannot have teachers fighting physically, nor publicly. I hope he knows that I also had a sharp word with Severus, letting him know that sort of language is entirely unacceptable.
And I hope I have not done true damage, considering what happens tonight.
He sighed, turning his mind away from such considerations. I do what I must, to keep the school running smoothly. If that involves angering a man whom, in other circumstances, I am proud to consider a friend, so be it. Here, he is my subordinate and Severus’ colleague, and we must all abide by the rules.
The usual flock of morning post owls soared into the Great Hall as Dumbledore took another piece of toast.
If there is one thing my long life has taught me, it is that all will be well in time.
Or, if not well, at least tolerable.
xXxXx
He wished he could put off opening the letter, but the eagle owl was sitting on the table eyeing him, and he knew it would peck him if he didn’t open it right away.
Sullenly, he ripped the seal off the parchment.
I will accept no quibbles. You are of an age to understand that lying is sometimes necessary. Do as you are told, or find yourself a new name and family.
Your instructions, then, are to do what you can to stir up trouble for him. The worse people think of him, the better. I would prefer that you not break laws, but if you must, do so quietly.
xXxXx
"How was Divination?" Harry asked Ron as the red-haired boy slid into the seat Hermione had saved for him.
Ron groaned. "Awful. Your parents were right, the teacher’s a freak. She wears these ugly specs that make her eyes look ten times bigger than they should be, and enough shawls for fifteen grandmothers, and she spent the whole class talking about how she can tell when people are going to die, and she feels the vibrations of death over the castle, enough for two people, ones we all know but not anyone present..."
"She said something about hair of raven and flax," said Neville, turning around in his seat the row ahead. "And tragedy of lives blighted so young."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Three guesses and the first two don’t count."
"People are so stupid," said Hermione witheringly. "Everyone knows Divination’s a load of rubbish."
"Not all of it," put in Draco. "There are some true Seers. Like Danger, with her dreams."
"Yes, but she doesn’t ask for them. They just happen. I don’t think anyone can just sit down and say, ‘I want to see what’s going to happen next,’ and have it actually work."
"Right now I know what’s going to happen next," said Ron.
"You do not."
"Do so. McGonagall’s about to yell at us."
"If we may begin," said Professor McGonagall sternly from the front of the classroom.
Hermione snorted but refrained from further comment.
The lesson that day, to the Pride’s amusement, was Animagi. McGonagall gave them a look warning them not to show any superior knowledge on the subject, so they held their comments to a minimum, but it was hard, especially when Lavender Brown kept mispronouncing it "Ani-maggie."
xXxXx
"Did Professor Granger-Lupin and Professor Lupin have a fight?" asked Luna at lunch, looking at the High Table.
"They don’t usually fight," said Hermione. "But they are being rather cold to each other. Maybe they just had a disagreement."
"Disagreement," said Draco, as though he were reading the dictionary. "Noun. Hermione Granger-Lupin-ese for fight. See also altercation, discussion, debate."
Hermione hit him with her Arithmancy book.
xXxXx
After lunch, they started down to Hagrid’s. "I wonder what magical creatures we’ll start with," said Hermione as they walked. "Maybe nifflers or mokes, they’re native to Britain, and not too difficult to handle. Or knarls, or crups or kneazles."
"You don’t need lessons on how to handle a kneazle," said Harry. "You do just fine with Crookshanks."
"He’s not a kneazle, though. He can’t be. He’s built wrong for it."
"But he looks a little like one," said Ron. "And he seems smarter than just a cat. Maybe he’s half kneazle."
Draco, looking ahead, gave a loud groan. "Hell."
The others looked where he was pointing and groaned themselves. "Slytherins," said Neville. "Why did it have to be Slytherins?"
"Who knows," said Harry. "Don’t bother them, and they won’t bother us."
"And if you believe that, I’ve got a self-spelling wand to sell you," muttered Ron.
Hagrid was waiting outside his house for the class, Fang beside him, checking off names on a parchment scroll with a quill as long as Harry’s arm. "Right then!" he called out as the Pride approached, rolling up the scroll. "Everyone’s here, so let’s get a move on! Follow me!"
He led them around the edge of the Forest to an empty paddock built of stone. "Now, then, yeh’ll need ter open yer books — yeh all know ter stroke ‘em?"
Most of the class nodded. There were a few blank faces, but two of them were Crabbe and Goyle. And they always look blank. Harry bit down on a snicker.
"Right, well, those who know, yeh show those who don’t. Find page two hundred eighty-three, an’ I’ll go an’ get the magical creatures we’ll be studyin’ today." Hagrid strode off into the Forest.
Page two hundred eighty-three, when found, proved to be none of the creatures Hermione had listed before class. Harry stared at the careful ink drawing of a creature with the back half of a horse and the front half of an eagle, which pranced and reared on the page.
"Hippogriffs?" said Draco, reading a few lines rapidly. "But they’re really hard to handle — it says here only experts should try it unless they’re already tame..."
"So maybe these are already tame," suggested Neville in a voice which shook a little. "Maybe they’re used to people."
"If they were used to people, Hagrid probably wouldn’t have them on chains like that," said Ron in a tone of dread.
Everyone turned to look. The chains Hagrid held in his hand were indeed stout, and the leather collars around the hippogriffs’ necks sturdy, but the hippogriffs themselves were what attracted the eye. Their feathers and fur coats were the same color all over, and seemed to be based more on horse coloration than eagle. Their talons and beaks looked quite deadly, and Harry knew from experience that wings that size could strike hard if they needed to. He’d seen Letha bowl Padfoot over more than once, not to mention the night she’d battered down the Head of the Auror Office, Rufus Scrimgeour.
"Now listen sharp," said Hagrid, wrapping the chains around a hook on the fence. "Mos’ important thing abou’ hippogriffs is, they’re proud beasts. Take offense like that." He snapped his fingers ringingly, making two or three of the hippogriffs prance in place. "Don’t never insult a hippogriff. Might just be the last thing yeh ever do."
Most of the class backed up several steps at this.
"Don’t start like that," said Hagrid impatiently. "They won’ hurt yeh if yer polite to ‘em. Yeh walk forward, keep eye contact, don’ blink too much — they won’ trust yeh if yeh do — an’ then yeh bow. If he bows, then yeh can touch him. If not, then yeh get away from him right quick, wait a minute or two, an’ try again. So who’ll go first?"
Harry looked around. Neville seemed to be seriously considering turning himself invisible. Hermione was frowning, running her hand along the spine of her Monster Book, which was making a sound a lot like a purr. Ron was rocking back and forth on his feet, staring at the hippogriffs. Draco was watching Theodore Nott, who had been whispering with Crabbe and Goyle all through Hagrid’s talk, out of the corner of his eye.
Harry took a step forward. "I’ll do it, Hagrid," he said.
"That’s the way, Harry!" said Hagrid happily. "Here, let’s start yeh off with Buckbeak!"
He uncollared the gray hippogriff and clucked to it, drawing it away from the others. "Make eye contact, an’ try not ter blink," he instructed Harry quietly. "Then come forward an’ bow."
Harry met fierce orange eyes, swallowed hard instead of blinking, and bowed to Buckbeak as Padfoot had taught them pureblood boys bowed to their elders. He took advantage of being down to shut his eyes for a moment, then looked back up. Buckbeak was still staring at him arrogantly.
"Back away, Harry," said Hagrid, sounding a little worried for the first time. "Slowly, now..."
But even as Hagrid spoke, the hippogriff bent its bird-like legs and lowered its front half in an unmistakable bow.
"Right, then!" said Hagrid, grinning all over his face. "Go on, Harry, he’ll let yeh touch him now! He likes his beak patted, right where it joins his face, go ahead!"
Harry would have liked backing away better, but he’d come this far. He stepped closer to Buckbeak, who was now watching him in a more friendly way, and stretched out his hand, laying it on the enormous beak and patting it several times. When he stopped, Buckbeak made a low crooning sound in his throat and blinked appealingly at him. Harry smiled and patted the beak a few more times as the class applauded him.
"Yeh know, Harry," said Hagrid speculatively, "he migh’ even let yeh ride him. How’d yeh like that, eh?"
Harry didn’t quite know what to say, but Hagrid saved him the trouble. "Ah, I know yeh love flyin’. So climb right up there — behind the wing, like — an’ don’ go pullin’ out any feathers, hippogriffs don’ like pain..."
Don’t like experiencing it, but I bet they like causing it, Harry thought dizzily. He stepped onto Buckbeak’s wing and pulled himself onto the hippogriff’s back. Where do I hold on?
"Round his neck," said Hagrid in a business-like tone. "Gee up!" He slapped Buckbeak’s hindquarters.
Buckbeak screeched and opened his wings, each easily twelve feet long. Harry seized hold of Buckbeak’s neck and held on as the hippogriff pumped its wings for altitude. It was like riding Letha in her horse form, except that the feathers made it harder to hold on. Harry had to use all his experience from broomstick flying to keep his balance without hurting his mount.
Still, he was enjoying it, and half-hoped Buckbeak would take a long flight, but the hippogriff showed no inclination to go outside the paddock, flying around it once before heading for the ground. Harry leaned back, praying he didn’t go sliding off over Buckbeak’s head, and just managed to stay astride as two hooved and two taloned feet struck the ground. The class cheered as Harry slid off Buckbeak and stood beside him for a moment with one hand on his back before walking to the fence.
"What were you doing standing there, posing for a Chocolate Frog card?" Draco asked as the rest of the class climbed into the paddock.
"Trying not to show everyone how badly my knees are shaking," said Harry, collapsing on the stone fence. "You go give it a try."
Draco approached Buckbeak and bowed to him. Buckbeak bowed back, and Draco moved up and patted his beak. Ron and Hermione had a chestnut hippogriff to themselves. Neville was scooting backwards from a red roan.
"You’re a handsome boy, you are," said Draco, turning as Buckbeak danced a little, then sliding his hand under the hippogriff’s facial feathers and scratching. Buckbeak closed his eyes, crooning softly. "I knew if Harry could do this, it couldn’t be too hard, and it’s not — you’re just like Hagrid, you only look big and mean, isn’t that right?"
"Where are you hanging out tonight again?" inquired Harry.
Draco stopped scratching Buckbeak to turn to him and use both hands to make a rude gesture, complete with a smacking sound.
Suddenly, Buckbeak screamed, rearing up. Draco staggered back a pace, shielding his head with an arm, but he was still within range of those wicked talons — Harry dived at him, knocking him to the ground, as Buckbeak swiped viciously at where Draco had been just a moment before, catching a clawful of Harry’s robes. Harry heard the cloth rip.
He hit the ground hard and yelped as pain shot up his arm. There was blood seeping out through the tears Buckbeak’s talons had made — it seemed cloth wasn’t the only thing they’d caught.
"Harry! Draco!" Hagrid rushed over from collaring Buckbeak and bent over the boys anxiously. "Are yeh all right?"
"Fine," said Draco, sitting up. "A little winded is all. Harry saved me from worse — I don’t even know what I did. I don’t think I was insulting."
"Maybe he thought you meant him," said Harry, cradling his arm. "When you... you know."
"Maybe." Draco peered at his arm. "Is that bad?"
"Yer bleedin’," said Hagrid, his face white. "Gotta get yeh ter the hospital wing..."
"I’ll be fine," said Harry. "I’ve been hurt worse playing Quidditch."
"You’re not kidding," muttered Draco.
"I can go up to the hospital wing myself," said Harry, trying to fend off Hagrid’s attempts to pick him up like an oversized baby. "You don’t need to stop class just for me." Class had stopped, though, he noticed, since everyone was now gathered around staring at him. He made sure to give Hermione and Ron the proper signal that he was all right.
"Yer sure?"
"Some of us can go with him," said Draco. "Just to make sure."
Hagrid sighed. "All right." He looked around and noticed Neville, still jogging backwards around the paddock as his hippogriff stalked him. "Here, stop that," he said severely to the roan, grabbing its collar. "Neville, go on up ter the hospital wing with Harry an’ Draco, make sure they get there all right."
"Yes, Professor," panted Neville, gratefully climbing out of the paddock.
xXxXx
"Can’t you stay out of trouble for one day?" asked Meghan in a tone which Harry was positive she’d learned from Danger.
"No," answered Draco for him. "Never."
"I didn’t ask you." Meghan flicked her fingers at him, spattering him with the salve she was using on Harry’s cuts. "Does that feel better?"
"Much," said Harry, smiling at her. "It doesn’t hurt at all now."
"All right, let’s see if you can do it, Meghan," said Madam Pomfrey, coming over to the bed.
"Do what?" asked Neville.
Meghan produced her wand. "Madam Pomfrey taught me a healing spell," she said. "I may not be very good at it yet, Harry, so tell me if anything hurts or doesn’t feel right."
Harry nodded, and Meghan touched her wand to the first of the three shallow gashes on his arm. "Sanatio," she said firmly.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then Harry saw new skin beginning to form over the cut, and within a moment or two, it looked as if he’d hurt his arm several days before, instead of just a few minutes.
"Very good," said Madam Pomfrey. "Mr. Potter?"
"It felt just like when you do it," said Harry truthfully. Madam Pomfrey had patched him up several times before, and the sensation he’d felt was a slowed-down version of her quick healing spell. "Only slower."
"Well, that’s only to be expected, Meghan’s young yet — but not many could do this spell so young, I’ll tell you that."
"Has anyone else ever learned it before they even started school?" asked Neville.
"Not that I can think of offhand, Mr. Longbottom."
Neville winked at Meghan, who beamed. "Shall I do the others?" she asked.
"Yes, go ahead, and now that you know you can do it, try it a little faster."
Meghan nodded eagerly and bent over her work.
A few moments later, when Madam Pomfrey was putting the finishing touches on Harry’s healing, hurried footsteps sounded in the hallway, and Danger came running into the hospital wing. "Hippogriffs?" she asked Draco, whom Madam Pomfrey had pronounced "perfectly all right, if a bit dirty."
Draco nodded. "I messed up," he admitted, "but Harry got hurt for it."
"Don’t make it a pattern," Danger said, untying his cloak strings as she passed. "Harry?"
"It was just a couple of cuts," protested Harry. "I got worse every day at home."
Madam Pomfrey looked highly disapproving. Danger laughed. "What a wonderful household you must think we are," she said. "But you know boys. They will wrestle, and climb trees and fly on their brooms, no matter what we tell them, and their fathers are no help, they just encourage them."
Harry stifled a laugh at the look on Moony’s face. His Pack-father had appeared in the doorway just in time to hear the end of this.
"So true," said Madam Pomfrey with a sigh. "Oh, Professor Lupin, I didn’t see you."
Danger stiffened and turned. "Professor," she said politely.
"Professor," answered Moony.
Draco had turned around, probably so the Pack-parents wouldn’t see him laughing, Harry thought. Meghan whispered something to Neville which made him grin.
Moony’s eyes went to Harry. "You’re all right?"
"Yes, Professor."
"Draco?"
"I wasn’t hurt at all."
"Good. Professor Granger-Lupin, would you mind coming with me? I think we have something we need to discuss."
"I think we do," said Danger. "Madam Pomfrey. Meghan. Boys."
They left the hospital wing together.
"They looked like a dog and a cat," said Draco, staring after them.
"Which?" asked Meghan.
"What?"
"Which of them was the dog and which the cat?"
"How should I know?"
"You thought it up," said Neville in a reasonable tone.
"Oh, shut up. We should get back, class won’t be over for another half-hour at least..."
xXxXx
Danger perched on a desk as Remus shut the door of the classroom behind them. I’ll say it fast and get it over with. It hurts less that way.
Remus turned to face her.
"I’m sorry," said Danger quickly.
Remus frowned. "You’re not supposed to say that."
"What?"
"It isn’t fair."
Danger stared at Remus for a moment, then began to smile. Her dignified love was pouting and kicking at the floor like a small boy. "What isn’t fair?"
"I wanted to apologize first."
Danger laughed aloud.
"It isn’t funny either," protested Remus, but he was smiling too. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shouted at you. You were right. It was stupid of me to hit Snape.
Stupid, yes, but awfully nice to think about. Did I mention half the reason I was mad was because I was jealous?
You were jealous? How do you think Sirius will feel?
Danger laughed again. It didn’t feel right, being at odds with you. It was like being angry at a part of myself. She frowned. But that’s the problem, isn’t it? Me seeing you as part of me, not as yourself?
No, not really. I was angry, I was just saying that to try to hurt you.
But you had a point. Neither of us is just part of the other. We’re two separate people... well, not as separate as we once were, but I’m not you, and you’re not me.
Remus shook his head, slowly. I think it’s a combination, he said. We are part of each other now. We belong to each other. And the only reason that it’s anything more than slavery or infatuation is that the belonging goes both ways. You belong to me exactly as much as I belong to you, and vice versa. In good conscience, I can only ask you to do something for me if I’d be willing to do the same for you.
Danger slid off her desk and crossed the room to him. You know all you ever have to do is ask.
All right, I’m asking. Forgive me for what I said, and don’t ever let me do anything that stupid again.
Only if you’ll forgive me for what I said, and promise never to hit Snape again...
Finish that sentence.
Unless I’m there to watch.
That’s more like it.
The embrace was no less glorious for being inevitable.