Talons and Time-Turners

The next day was Hermione's favorite day of the whole year, even better than Christmas: the first day of school! She got up early (she couldn't help it) and waited impatiently in the common room for Ron and Harry. When they went down to breakfast, she saw that Draco had arrived on time for once. He was punctual in everything else, but not breakfast. He had taken his habitual place at the Slytherin table, as close as possible to where Hermione, Harry, and the Weasleys sat at the adjacent Gryffindor table.

Pansy Parkinson had taken Goyle's place at Draco's left. She fidgeted and talked constantly, as if she'd been possessed by the spirit of Colin Creevey. While she sat very close to Draco and focused all her attention on him, she was careful not to touch him. Hermione guessed that Draco had forbidden this.

Seeing the Gryffindors approach, Draco clapped the back of his hand to his forehead and pretended to swoon, as if he were the heroine in a third-rate melodrama. His head landed in Crabbe's lap. Pansy shrieked with laughter.

At least Draco hadn't fake-swooned into Pansy's lap. Not that Hermione could ever be jealous of Pansy Parkinson. That would be ridiculous!

Harry stiffened and clenched his fists. Hermione said hastily, "Ignore him. Just ignore him. It's not worth it—"

"Hey, Potter!" shouted Pansy excitedly. "Potter! The dementors are coming, Potter! Wooooooo!"

Pansy asked Draco to do his Potter imitation again, and he fake-swooned once more. Pansy laughed. So did a few others.

George looked up from passing out schedules. "That little git," he said, though without any real heat. The twins didn't hate Draco the way Ron did.

George continued, "He wasn't so cocky last night when the dementors were down at our end of the train. Came running into our compartment, didn't he, Fred?"

"Nearly wet himself," agreed Fred.

Ginny and Harry looked dismayed, as if expecting to be next in line to receive the twins' scorn.

Perhaps seeing this, George became serious. "I wasn't too happy myself. They're horrible things, those dementors."

"Sort of freeze your insides, don't they?" said Fred.

Harry muttered, "You didn't pass out, did you?"

The twins agreed that no, they hadn't, but went on to say that even their father came home shaking when he visited Azkaban on Ministry business. Anyway, Harry would get his revenge on Malfoy at the Quidditch match, so there was nothing to worry about.

Ron discovered that Hermione was triple-booked for her nine o'clock classes and asked her some probing questions. She had to snap at him to avoid explaining about the Time-Turner, putting him in a foul mood. She felt guilty about this. He was already upset over the entirely imaginary threat that Crookshanks posed to his rat Scabbers.

Two hours and four classes later, Hermione was tired, starving, and irritable. Taking four classes without a break wasn't as much fun as she'd expected, and she'd found Divination class difficult. The material made no sense and Professor Trelawney had been terribly rude. On top of that, her body thought that lunch was two hours late.

Maybe that's why she found herself quarreling with Ron during lunch instead of making up. It was so bad, they stopped speaking to each other. Didn't he know how much this distressed her? And if he knew, would he stop? Ron held grudges, and it made her feel so helpless!

The day was going badly. She'd never had such a difficult first day of class, not even in her first year at Hogwarts, and it was only half-over. The Time-Turner had left her off-balance, which she hadn't expected. But right after lunch they'd have Care of Magical Creatures with Hagrid. That would cheer them all up. And Draco would be there.

Sadly, so would Pansy Parkinson, as it turned out. During the walk to class, Pansy practically shoved Goyle out of the way so she could walk beside Draco, who did nothing to prevent this.

Hermione reminded herself that she wasn't jealous at all, and of course didn't feel frightened or threatened, and she certainly wasn't angry with Draco. Though they hadn't seen each other all summer and, technically, anything might have happened, everything was fine.

Then Hagrid beamed at her and she was happy again. He was in his element and she was proud of him. He took them to an empty paddock at the edge of the forest and began his first Care of Magical Creatures class ever.

The honeymoon didn't last long. When Hagrid told the class to open their books, Draco interrupted by asking coldly, "How?"

Hermione blinked. This wasn't Draco's usual clowning. He was upset. Why?

"Eh?" said Hagrid.

"How do we open our books?" Draco's copy of The Monster Book of Monsters was tied shut with a length of rope. He held the book up by the end of the rope, as if holding a dead rat by the tail. Or, rather, a live one—the book was struggling. Draco raised his eyebrows at Hagrid.

"You've got to stroke them!" said Hagrid. He borrowed Hermione's book and removed the Spell-O-Tape holding it shut. The book made energetic attempts to bite him until he ran his fingers up and down the spine. The book suddenly went limp in a vaguely disturbing way and flopped open.

Draco said angrily, "Oh, how silly we've all been! We should have stroked them. Why didn't we guess?"

"I—I thought they were funny," said Hagrid.

This upset Draco even more. "Oh, tremendously funny! Really witty, giving us books that try and rip our hands off."

Why was Draco so angry? Oh, of course—he thought Hagrid was playing a nasty joke on his own students! If you didn't know Hagrid very well, that's what it would look like.

Harry said, "Shut up, Malfoy."

Hagrid, flustered, left to get the magical creatures for the day's lesson.

Draco paced back and forth, then glanced uncertainly at Hermione, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly (a technique he'd learned from Hermione's copy of Conflict Resolution for Your Pre-Teen). Somewhat calmer, he still complained, "God, this place is going to the dogs. That oaf teaching classes! My father will have a fit when I tell him."

"Shut up, Malfoy," repeated Harry.

Inexplicably cheered by Harry's words, Draco said happily, "Careful, Potter. There's a dementor behind you."

Hagrid returned, leading a dozen hippogriffs into the paddock. With horse-like bodies and the heads, wings, and forelegs of eagles, they looked proud and cruel. They were surprisingly graceful.

Hagrid started describing how proud and dangerous hippogriffs were. Hermione spared Draco a glance. For some reason he was holding a muttered conference with Crabbe and Goyle. They needed to pay attention or they might get hurt!

Harry volunteered to go first. Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle ended their discussion and moved to the railing, finally paying attention.

Harry bowed to the hippogriff, Buckbeak, and after a long, heart-stopping hesitation, Buckbeak bowed back. Then, with Hagrid coaching him at every step, Harry went up and patted the creature's beak, which Buckbeak seemed to enjoy. Then Hagrid coached Harry onto Buckbeak's back. Buckbeak ran lightly down length of the paddock and took to the air as if it were the easiest thing in the world. Harry and Buckbeak were soon out of sight.

Draco approached Neville and said, "Fill me in, will you? I missed some of what Hagrid said."

Neville asked nervously, "You're not really telling your father, are you?" He and Draco had covered for Hagrid before, after the Forbidden Forest debacle in their first year.

"Maybe you're right. No one else will let me fly a hippogriff."

Neville, relieved, started giving Draco a recap of Hagrid's instructions. Draco waved Crabbe and Goyle over so they'd hear, too. Neville finished just before Buckbeak landed gracefully and Harry dismounted, grinning. The Gryffindors and a few of the Slytherins cheered.

Grinning, Hagrid turned to the class and said, "Okay, who else wants a go?" Apparently his plan was to turn all the students loose at the same time, with no further coaching.

Malfoy approached Buckbeak, followed by Crabbe and Goyle. Pansy held back.

Ron and Hermione selected a chestnut hippogriff, and of course Harry volunteered to coach them. Hermione let Ron go first so she could keep an eye on Draco.

When Draco bowed gracefully to Buckbeak, Buckbeak returned his bow at once. Draco was delighted. He approached Buckbeak and petted him. Buckbeak allowed this and was soon leaning into the caresses, emitted deep coos of pleasure. Draco loved this and kept it up for some time.

Remembering his audience, Draco looked to where Crabbe and Goyle were standing and, trying not to laugh, said with mock disdain, "This is very easy. I knew it must have been, if Potter could do it." Turning back to Buckbeak, he spoke as if to a friendly dog, "I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you? Are you, you great ugly brute?"

Buckbeak instantly reared and slashed at Draco's face with his talons. Draco flung up his right arm just in time, and Buckbeak ripped a deep gash in his forearm from wrist to elbow. The talons on Buckbeak's other foreleg slashed down Draco's body, shredding his robes. When Buckbeak's feet were on the ground again, he swung his head into Draco's midriff and hurled him through the air. Draco hit the ground hard and curled into a ball. Buckbeak flapped his wings and screamed, then surged forward to finish him off.

Hagrid leaped between them, grabbed Buckbeak's collar, and hauled him back.

Draco's blood quickly soaked through his robes.

"I'm dying!" cried Draco. "I'm dying, look at me! It's killed me."

Hagrid had turned pale, but said, "You're not dying!" He picked up Draco effortlessly and said, "Somebody help me! Gotta get him out of here." He jerked his head at the gate.

Hermione ran to the gate and opened it. The other students were frozen in horror. Hagrid ran past her and headed towards the castle. Draco's right arm was bleeding profusely and he kept his left arm pressed against his belly. Hagrid ran faster and more lightly than Hermione had expected. Good.

Pansy Parkinson had gone very pale and several students were crying. Crabbe and Goyle looked stunned and lost, but turned away when they saw Hermione looking at them.

Soon they were all stumbling back to the castle. The seemingly endless trail of Draco's blood made Hermione dizzy and sick, but she couldn't take her eyes off it. Sometimes the drops were far apart, sometimes they were close together. Occasionally two or three drops overlapped. So much blood! Would Draco die before he reached the infirmary? Hagrid hadn't attempted any first aid at all.

Somehow they made it to the castle. Once inside, Pansy suddenly stopped and said wildly, "I'm going to see if he's okay!" She sprinted up the white marble steps, now spattered with bright red blood.

Hermione stood frozen, unwilling to turn her back on Draco and head to Gryffindor tower, but unable to make herself go to the hospital wing where Pansy Parkinson and perhaps Draco's corpse awaited her.

Someone took her gently by the hand. A soft voice said, "Come on, Hermione." It was Neville. He led her to Gryffindor tower.

Hermione drifted through the next few hours as if in a nightmare. Hagrid didn't show up for dinner. She couldn't eat. Afterwards, the three friends visited Hagrid in his cabin. He was sunk in gloom, with a huge tankard in front of him. His face was already red from drink. When he spoke, his speech was slurred.

"Madam Pomfrey fixed him best she could," Hagrid told them. "But he's saying it's still agony. Covered in bandages, moaning …"

Life and color flowed back into Hermione's world. Draco was alive! He was conscious and complaining! That was practically normal.

Harry said, "He's faking it. Madam Pomfrey can mend anything. She regrew half my bones last year. Trust Malfoy to milk it for all it's worth."

"School governors have been told, of course," continued Hagrid as if he hadn't heard. "They reckon I started too big … It's all my fault."

"It's all Malfoy's fault, Hagrid!" said Hermione loyally. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she remembered the trail of blood and felt ashamed. After a very bad moment, she told herself firmly that Hagrid needed all her support right now, and she'd give Draco all her support as soon as she got back to the castle. Hagrid was too upset and, frankly, too drunk for a balanced discussion anyway.

"I think you've had enough to drink, Hagrid," she said, taking his tankard and stepping outside to empty it onto the ground. Hagrid surprised her by agreeing, following her outside, and ducking his head in the rain barrel. It was strange having someone that much bigger taking her this seriously.

When they returned the castle, it was after visiting hours, but Hermione went to the hospital wing anyway.

Madam Pomfrey unlocked the door and let her in, saying, "I'm glad you're here. He needs his sleeping draught but he's refusing to take it because he doesn't want to miss you."

"How is he?"

"He'll make a full recovery, but he's having a rough time of it."

Hermione approached Draco's bed. He was propped up in a half-sitting position, but his eyes were closed. His right arm, bandaged from shoulder to wrist, was in a sling. His face was pale and covered with sweat. Sometimes his body tensed and he stopped breathing for several long seconds. He must be in terrible pain. He was enduring this in the hope of seeing her?

Hermione found that her fingers were in her mouth. When would she break herself of this childish habit? She took them out, composed her features, took a deep breath, and said, "Hello, Malfoy."

He opened his eyes, saw her, and sighed in relief. He even managed a brief smile. "Granger, we've got to stop meeting like this."

"How are you?"

He made a vague gesture with his left hand. "It could have been worse."

She blinked. "How?"

"I had the distinct sensation of being raked all the way down to my toes. Disemboweled on the first day of school, a new record!"

Hermione shuddered. Draco continued, "I made Madam Pomfrey search for the second wound and everything. It's just the arm, though. Full-body pain is a cheerful side effect of hippogriff maulings."

He dropped his light tone and said, "It was bad, Granger. Almost as bad as the dementor."

The dementor had been even worse? She didn't know what to say.

Draco continued, "I really wanted to fly on that hippogriff. I was going to meet your cat today! And maybe get you to tell me why Theo's being so mysterious." His voice trembled. "And I haven't held you in my arms in months!" He paused for control, then said, "And the pain makes me all whiny."

"Are you going to be all right?"

"Yeah, sure," he said glumly. "Piece of cake."

Madam Pomfrey appeared with a smoking beaker. "Time for your medicine, young man."

Draco made a face but took the beaker in his left hand, shuddered in anticipation, and drained it. When he handed it back, he clutched urgently at the glass of water that Madam Pomfrey offered next. He drained that, too, then lay back and said, "That was ghastly. Revolting. It … reminded … me …" His eyes closed and his body gradually relaxed.

"He'll sleep now," said Madam Pomfrey unnecessarily.

Hermione took out her handkerchief and gently wiped the sweat from Draco's face. She was grateful to see that the draught had put him into a normal sleep and not something deeper and more deathlike. In sleep, he was so beautiful! She gazed at him for a while, then kissed him on the cheek and whispered, "I love you, Draco."

She said good-night to Madam Pomfrey and walked slowly to the Gryffindor common room. She was exhausted. She hoped she'd never have another first day of school like this one. The quarrel with Ron, all those classes, Draco's injury … it was all too much.

Or was it? She was exhausted, yes, but … Draco had waited for her! And when he saw her, it was as if his pain had evaporated. Well, a lot of it, anyway. This morning, she'd been jealous of Pansy Parkinson, and afraid, too. So many girls liked Draco! But his bond with her was so strong … nothing could come between them now. Yes, it had been a rough start, but everything would be easier now. Of course it would.

[Next: Bandages and Badinage]