2 September 1993—Stung
"Back off, Harry, back off!" Hagrid whispered urgently. Harry started to edge away from Buckbeak, who was glaring malevolently at him with one orange eye.
Hermione was positively trembling with fear. She jumped about half a mile when Harry snapped a twig underfoot, and snatched at Ron's shirt. Ron gave her an odd look, and she quickly released him.
"Ha!" Hagrid gave a great shout of laughter and tossed a dead ferret to Buckbeak, who caught it in the air and very delightedly tore it to bits, thoroughly enjoying his snack. "Well done, Harry, well done!" Hagrid said, starting to clap. The rest of the class followed half-heartedly—they didn't want to be next with the hippogriff.
"I reckon you can go and pat him, now, go on," Hagrid said. Harry glanced at him, but put one hand out tentatively and started towards the hippogriff. The creature snapped its beak, and Hermione jumped again, now grabbing Ron's hand. This time, Ron looked mortified, and Hermione released him as if she'd been stung, feeling ashamed.
"Not so fas', Harry," Hagrid said. Harry stopped where he stood. "Righ', now let him come ter you," Hagrid told Harry.
Hermione glanced sideways at Ron, who was staring at the hippogriff and rubbing his wrist absently. Let him come to you.
Woo! Sorry it's so short, tomorrow and the day after are both lovely and long. I adore you all. You're so good to me. Your reviews bring tears to my eyes. I can't thank you enough.
Lucy