For anyone who didn't look at my profile, I was rather ill over the weekend, so I hope that the lateness of this chapter will be forgiven. Next month will resume the regular schedule.

Disclaimer: Hagrid, centaurs, Acromantulas... they're all Rowling's. I'm just playing around with them.


During their next Care of Magical Creatures class, Hagrid seemed distracted, constantly wandering off in the middle of a sentence with his eyes unfocused. Harry, though he thought he knew why, stayed back to talk to him nonetheless.

"Hagrid," he started uncertainly, "I know you miss Aragog…"

"Eh, it weren' just that." Hagrid dragged a sleeve messily across his eyes, one of which was still black. "The other spiders won' let me anywhere near their webs now Aragog's gone. Turns out it was on'y on his orders they didn' eat me! Can yeh believe that, Harry?"

Harry tried very hard not to say "yes;" the fact that Aragog himself had once given the other spiders leave to eat him and Ron was very high on his list of things that Hagrid did not need to know. Instead, he raised up a hand and patted Hagrid's elbow.

"Makes yeh wonder," Hagrid went on, and now he seemed to be talking more to himself than to Harry. "Makes yeh think abou' all the other people yeh know, and wonder how many o' em aren' who yeh thought they were…"

"Yeah," Harry agreed, thinking of his confrontation with Sirius. "Makes you wonder…"

"Listen, Harry," Hagrid continued, still as if he hadn't heard him at all. "I don' think tha' I'll be here much longer, ter tell yeh the truth…"

"Don't talk like that, Hagrid! You're a great teacher," Harry lied.

"Th-thanks." Hagrid sniffled, and tears began to leak from his beetle-black eyes. "Tha' means a lot, comin' from you." Once again, he swiped an arm across his face. "Still, I think tha' Kinder's got it in fer me…"

"You just need to have a little more confidence," Harry insisted. "Don't let Kinder intimidate you." Unfortunately, Hagrid tended to get flustered during inspections—which had not been good for his teaching career.

"Too late for that." Hagrid shook his head. "He's already decided that I'm no good. Ah well, I've had a good run, at leas'. Got ter see what it was like to be a respectable wizard fer a change… Now don' argue," he said as Harry opened his mouth to do just that. "It's jus'… I need yeh an' Ron an' Hermione ter help me wi' summat, an' I need ter show yeh what it is 'fore I'm out o' here fer good… Can the three o' yeh meet me here Saturday mornin'?"

"Of course, Hagrid," Harry said—admittedly against his better judgment.

"Th-thanks a lot, Harry." Hagrid sniffled again. "Knew I could count on yeh."


"You actually agreed to it?" Ron demanded later that night, when Harry informed them of Hagrid's request in the privacy of the fifth year boys' dormitory. "Have you gone completely mad?"

"Look, I know it isn't the best idea. But he's about to get the sack and he's been really depressed ever since Aragog died…"

"Yes, and what if he's tried to cheer himself up by hatching another baby dragon, or… or breeding another batch of Blast-Ended Skrewts?" Hermione paced back and forth, nervously fingering her wand. "Let's face it, Harry, Hagrid doesn't have the best of judgment even when he's not depressed, and now…"

"I know, Hermione. I may not have your genius, but I'm not an idiot." He sank onto his bed, running a hand over his face. "It's just—I promised Hagrid, and I can't do that to him right now."

"Harry, I know how you're feeling—I do!" she insisted as Harry glared at her. "But don't you think you should talk to Sirius—"

"No."

Ron and Hermione both looked taken aback at the force of Harry's tone. "Blimey," Ron said. "Are you still—"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Fine." Hermione threw her hands into the air. "Write a letter to Remus, then. Just try not to get in over your head again."

"Oh, right." Harry irritably rubbed his scar, which had been unusually prickly for the past week. It didn't help his mood to know that, once again, something had gone right for Voldemort. "Because I've never been in over my head before."

"We know, Harry. And we're not saying it's your fault—"

"Just don't forget that other people are here to help you, yeah?" Ron said, sitting down across from him.

"Yeah," Harry muttered, lowering his hand from his head. "Yeah, I'll try to remember. And—thanks."


That night found Harry penning a hasty letter to Remus.

He had to be very careful in what he wrote, knowing full well that the letter would likely be intercepted. Not only would the Ministry suspect him of trying to contact Sirius; he didn't want them finding out that he was making contact with a wanted werewolf either.

He also needed to avoid getting Hagrid in trouble. The Ministry hearing that a "dangerous" half-giant was up to some vaguely dangerous and potentially illegal activity would definitely not be good for Hagrid's already damaged career.

By half an hour to curfew, Harry had something that he thought was satisfactory. He read it over one last time, just to be sure.

Dear Moony,

It's been a long time since we've seen each other, so I thought I'd write. I wish there were a more convenient way for us to talk.

Classes are going fine…

(Harry skimmed over this part, as it was only meaningless filler meant to hide the real purpose of the letter from prying eyes.)

…I wish I could say everything else is going well, but one of my friends just had his pet die, and he's had it longer than Norbert. (You've heard of Norbert, right?) I think that he's getting something else and that he wants us to help with it, but I don't know whether that would be a good idea. What do you think?

Harry

Deciding that it was sufficient, Harry addressed it with only the name of Moony, underlining it twice with very bold strokes.

Going up to the Owlery, he found Hedwig just getting ready to depart for her nightly hunt. She hooted softly upon seeing him.

"Hey, girl," Harry said quietly, stroking her feathers. "I need you to take this to Remus tonight. Think you can do that?"

She hooted again, a bit more loudly this time, ruffling her feathers as if insulted that Harry would doubt her. Grinning, he tied the parchment to her leg, being sure to fish an owl treat out of his pocket after he did so.

"Make sure that he's the one who gets it, okay?" Hedwig clicked her beak in affirmation before taking off.


Harry had sent the letter at night in the hopes of receiving a reply before the weekend, and his efforts paid off: at breakfast on Friday, Hedwig dropped an envelope into his bacon. She looked rather smug.

"It's from Remus!" Harry pulled the envelope toward him and hastily slit it open.

"Well?" Ron said eagerly, leaning in to look over his shoulder. "What's it say?"

Dear Harry,

It's good to hear from you again. As you probably know I haven't been able to get out much lately, so a friendly bit of post is always welcome.

It's a shame about your friend. As a matter of fact I happened to see him myself earlier this week, but he hasn't told me any more than he's told you. I do, however, agree with your assessment, and only ask that you avoid making any promises that you can't keep.

Harry blushed guiltily. One thing he had not included was the fact that he had already promised Hagrid his help.

As for classes, I know that O.W.L. year can be stressful, but believe me when I say that that's normal. This may sound contrary to logic, but you'll do better in the long run if you take a break once in a while—tell that studious friend of yours that this means her as well. (Hermione blanched.) You have a Hogsmeade weekend coming up soon, right? Take the day off, spend it in the Three Broomsticks or some such place. Trust me, you will be better off for it. (But don't take that as leave to slack off on your studies altogether, much as I know your other friend will encourage you.) (Now it was Ron's turn to sputter.)

Once again, thank you for writing, and I hope to hear from you again sometime in the near future.

Yours,

Moony

PS – Padfoot is not aware that you wrote. Though I also disagree with the way he is handling the situation, I wish the two of you would sort things out—and yes, I have said as much to him as well. I will not pressure you further, but I think it would be better if you work this out before you see each other again.

Harry hastily tucked the parchment into his robes before either of his friends could comment on the last line. Thankfully, they were a bit more perceptive than he gave them credit for.

"It sounds as if he's telling us to be at the Three Broomsticks next Hogsmeade weekend," Hermione muttered under her breath. "You don't think he's… you know… planning to meet us there?"

"Dunno." Harry looked over the letter again. "But this is Moony. I don't think he'd do anything reckless."

"Unlike someone else I could mention." Hermione let out a sigh. "You're still going to meet Hagrid tomorrow, aren't you?"

Harry nodded. "Yes," he said firmly.

"Then I'm going with you," Ron said from his other side.

"I still don't like it," Hermione said, "but I am too."


"I don't believe him," Hermione said after they got out of the forest the next day, pacing back and forth. "I really don't believe him."

"Calm down," said Harry.

"Calm down!" she said feverishly. "A giant! A giant in the forest! And we're supposed to give him English lessons! Always assuming, of course, we can get past the herd of murderous centaurs on the way in and out! I—don't—believe—him!"

"It isn't just the centaurs," Ron said, shuddering. "What about… you know… the other thing?"

They all fell silent, and Harry knew that Ron and Hermione, just as he was, were thinking on what had happened on their way back out…

"I thought that we told you, Hagrid, that you are no longer welcome here?"

"How are yeh, Magorian?"

The trees behind the centaur rustled and four or five more emerged behind him. Harry recognized the black-bodied and bearded Bane, but Bane gave no sign that he had ever seen Harry before.

"So," he said, with a nasty inflection in his voice, before turning immediately to Magorian. "We agreed, I think, what we would do if this human showed his face in the forest again?"

"'This human' now, am I?" said Hagrid testily. "Jes' because o' what the spiders—"

"You were the one who brought them into this forest!" Bane said, stamping his front hooves in a very threatening manner. "Many of our herd were wounded when they rampaged. Two of our foals are still missing. Yet still you have the nerve to show your face in our forest."

The three of them turned to each other in shock. "Rampage?" Hermione mouthed. Ron was rapidly turning green.

"Now, you listen ter me," said Hagrid angrily. "I'll have less of the 'our' forest, if it's all the same ter you. It's not up ter you who comes an' goes in here—"

"No more is it up to you, Hagrid," said Magorian smoothly. "I shall let you pass today because you are accompanied by your young—"

"They're not his!" interrupted Bane. "Students, Magorian, from up at the school!" He made as if to rush at Hagrid, but was stopped by Magorian's arm across his chest.

"Nevertheless, the slaughter of foals is a terrible crime. The loss of your son should have taught you that." Bane, though he still looked murderous, backed down, and Magorian turned back to Hagrid. "Today, Hagrid, you pass. Henceforth, stay away from this place. We know what you are keeping in the forest, and our tolerance is waning."

"I'm not going back in there," Ron continued, his voice rising progressively in pitch with each word. "Murderous giant spiders on the rampage, once was enough, I'm not going to do it again…"

"We haven't got to do anything yet," Harry tried to reassure them. "He's not asking us to do anything unless he gets chucked out and that might not even happen—"

"Oh come off it, Harry!" said Hermione angrily. "Of course he's going to be chucked out and to be perfectly honest, after what we've just seen, who can blame Kinder?"

There was a pause in which Harry glared at her, and her eyes filled slowly with tears.

"You don't mean that," said Harry quietly.

"No… well… all right… I didn't," she said, wiping her eyes angrily. "But why does he have to make life so difficult for himself—for us?"

"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I just don't know."


Try as he might, Harry could not think what to do, and he didn't dare put detailed information in a letter. The next weekend, he decided that there was nothing for it but to do what Remus had seemed to be suggesting, and go down to the Three Broomsticks with Ron and Hermione.

A fine, misty drizzle accompanied them all through the walk down to Hogsmeade, and it was a relief to get inside of the warm, well-lit pub. No sooner had Harry removed his cloak than Hermione elbowed him in the ribs, drawing his attention to a very familiar red-headed figure who was waving at them from a table across the room.

"Charlie?" Ron said incredulously as they moved to join him. "What are you doing here?"

"And why shouldn't I visit my own brother?" Charlie asked with a grin. Something in the way he said it, however, seemed off, especially when his eyes flicked significantly to Harry afterward.

"Wait," Harry said, excitement and apprehension building in equal parts in his mind. "You wrote us about this last weekend, didn't you?"

"Right again, Harry." Charlie—Remus, Harry now realised—grinned before he waved down Madam Rosmerta and ordered a round of butterbeers.

Ron, who was sitting next to him, couldn't seem to decide which emotion he wanted to express on his face. "Something the matter, Ron?" Remus asked pleasantly, turning to him.

Ron, who had been opening and closing his mouth repeatedly like a fish out of water, snapped it shut again just as Madam Rosmerta arrived with four butterbeers. "You have no idea how weird this is," he said fervently as she walked away again.

"Oh, I have more idea than you think," Remus said lightly, pulling his butterbeer towards himself and taking a sip. He grimaced slightly, and Harry noticed him slipping a small flask inside of his robes. "At any rate," he continued, "I can't stay here long. So why don't you tell me what's been going on."

"Are you sure… are you sure it's safe?" Hermione's eyes flicked all around the room. "There are so many people here…"

"Which means that we're less likely to be overheard," Remus said calmly. "Don't shout it, mind, but unless someone is standing behind us and listening in all of the other conversations in here ought to drown us out."

They looked at each other doubtfully, but there was nothing else for it. In lowered voices they launched into the tale of Grawp and the centaurs, Ron pointedly including the apparent rampage of giant spiders. When they had finished, Remus looked more than mildly disturbed.

"Just so we're clear," he began. "Hagrid wants you—"

"—to visit his murderous half-brother and teach him English, assuming we can get through the murderous centaurs and murderous Acromantulas on the way in and out." Hermione's voice had gone nearly high enough to shatter glass by the time she finished, and she looked around guiltily as if to make sure that no one had overheard.

"Oh dear," Remus said, sighing in a very un-Charlie like way. "Well, I suppose I'll just have to talk to Hagrid myself."

"Don't… don't go too hard on him," Harry pleaded. "He's been having a difficult time right now, and I just… I don't want him to think that we betrayed him too. You know how he is."

"Yes, I do know. And I promise I'll try to work out an alternative. But Hagrid should not be asking you to do this." Remus stood, pushing his chair away from the table.

"You have to go?" Harry guessed.

"Afraid so." His mannerisms were a lot closer to Charlie's now, and Harry guessed that he was getting back into character. "It was good seeing you again, Ron. And you too, Harry, Hermione." They nodded in return.

With that, he departed, leaving them alone with their confused and very guilty thoughts.


A/N: One thing that I see a lot of in fiction, especially in movies, that drives me absolutely up the wall, is characters discussing sensitive information in a public place, often a restaurant, without taking into account that someone, possibly the waiter, might overhear them. Half the time it turns out that the waiter did overhear them, and they end up in very deep shit afterwards because of it. So I tried to give Rowling's characters a little more credit and have them at least consider the possibility.

This chapter was a hard one to write, mostly because the upcoming chapters were the ones I that really wanted to write. This is primarily a dialogue chapter, and it's mostly filler, but there is some important stuff in there. One of the earlier concepts was quite a bit more action-packed, but given that we're coming up on the finale, I decided that understated drama would work better for this point in the story. That said, definitely not my best work.

I was surprised, and quite pleased, by the number of people who agreed with my decisions on the last chapter. Definitely encouraging.

Title of next chapter: "Questions and Answers"