The whole school seemed abuzz with excitement for the next week or so, and the Gryffindors - especially Harry - were still euphoric following their Quidditch victory. Even the weather seemed to be celebrating, as it stayed warm and sunny, and even Calla's tiring nights in the North Tower with Trelawney didn't seem so awful when the world outside was so lovely. Even her visions were more positive in nature - despite Hermione's prickling dismissals of them - and as the world turned towards the month of June and warmed, Calla's mood couldn't help but improve greatly. Hermione and Ron seemed determined to stay friends this time without falling out again, which was nice, even if Calla couldn't quite bring herself to forget the way Hermione had been so dismissive of Trelawney, walking out like that, and everything she'd said about Divination. But still, she kept telling herself, it wasn't like Hermione knew the whole truth about Calla's vision, and she didn't want to cause any rupture among her friends and her brother. The weather was too nice for her to feel like complaining, and she spent some lovely afternoons outside in the sun with her friends, whether playing ground Quidditch or simply chatting and enjoying each other's company.

Even so, no one could slack off. Exams were approaching them quickly, and the Ravenclaw Common Room became very suddenly nervous around the Easter holidays, everyone buzzing about and frantically searching for notes and scrap bits of paper they'd left lying, and arguing over books. Penelope Clearwater, who was doing her N.E.W.T.s, snapped at anyone who so much as went near her copy of Advanced Arithmancy, while Lisa seemed somehow even more stressed and insisted on making study timetables for everyone.

Calla had decided that Divination wouldn't be a study priority, as it wasn't really something one could study for, which at least lightened her workload a little (Hermione also, she had noted with a tinge of bitterness, had failed to remember to include it in the study schedule she'd mocked up for them all, though it wasn't like any of them really stuck to it anyway, any more than Calla stuck to Lisa's). Ancient Runes, however, as she began to realise, was a mess. She had eleven different charts which all seemed to conflict with one another, and she couldn't find her last one on Younger Runic Numerology, and had to borrow Daphne's, which was even more of a mess than her own. "And you say my handwriting's bad?" she muttered, frowning over it in their dormitory (both the Common Room and the library had become too stressful for anyone to study in). "What's that even supposed to be? A chicken?"

Daphne snatched the chart back. "It's a yeti."

Isobel leaned over to look. "It does look quite like a chicken, though, Daphne."

"Will you three be quiet?" Lisa hissed from her bed. "I'm concentrating!"

Daphne pulled a face and Padma raised her eyebrows at them, shaking her head slowly. Calla huffed and slumped down on her bed, shoving her head into her pillow. "This'll never all stick," she muttered.

"It will," Padma assured her mildly. "You know you've got it, you're just stressing for the sake of stressing."

Calla sighed and turned her head to glare at Padma. "Ugh. I can't."

"Yeah you can," said Isobel, huffing. "Stop stressing."

"I can't just stop stressing!" Calla replied, feeling slightly like she was about to explode something. She huffed and turned over, staring up at the ceiling. Matilda crept quietly up to sit on her chest.

"Then can you stress a little quieter?" Lisa muttered, glaring at her across the room.

Calla stuck her tongue out immaturely and wrapped her arms around Matilda, sighing. Just then, there was a pecking sound from the window and a moment later Moony flew in, squawking loudly and depositing a small note on the end of Calla's bed. "And get that owl out of here!" Lisa whined, tossing her book down. It slammed on the floor and Moony hissed, swooping out the window.

"You don't have to be rude," Calla muttered, taking the note. "It's from Hagrid," she said to Daphne. "The appeal's been set for the sixth."

"That's the day before the last exam, isn't it?" Padma asked, and Calla nodded. "Then we can speak to Hagrid after the exam anyway, since it's Care Of Magical Creatures."

"They're coming here to do it," Calla said slowly, still reading. "They're bringing the Minister of Magic and-" She gasped, hardly believing it. She didn't want to believe it. "And an executioner."

Even Lisa had looked up at that. "They've already decided, then?" asked Isobel.

"They can't!" Daphne said. "They've got to hear what we have to say! If they bring an executioner..."

"Then that means they've already made up their minds," Padma said quietly.

"But we've all done so much!" Daphne said. "They can't just ignore that!"

But Calla was sure that they would, and that Lucius Malfoy had played a part in this. Over the next few days, Malfoy had been walking around with a considerable new swagger, which was getting on everyone's nerves. "I think I hate him," Padma announced, glaring at Malfoy across the Great Hall. "You know, I really, really think I do."

With exam week came an unusual hush, as everyone in the castle prepared and tried not to explode from the stress of their exams. The Ravenclaws' first exam happened to be Potions, which Calla thought was at least over and done with. Snape had them brew Shrinking Solutions, and though Calla was very concerned about how long it took to go clear, by the end she figured she had something presentable, and she knew her essays had been better, and would hopefully help her to get a good mark.

Everyone came out complaining, naturally. "I'm glad that's over," Zach said, catching Calla's arm. "Did you see Snape look at my Potion? I think he thought it was sludge."

Calla giggled. "I'm sure you've done fine. He looks at everything like that, doesn't he?"

"Suppose," Zach laughed as they all headed up to lunch. "I've got History next though, after lunch." He shook his head. "Disgusting."

"We've got Charms," Calla replied, shooting Zach a sympathetic smile. He made a mock disgusted sound. "I'm sure I'll do terrible."

"Nah," Zach told her, shaking his head as they parted ways at the entrance to the Great Hall. Calla flushed at his next words, even though she would vehemently deny it later. "You won't."

Flitwick, as Calla had thought he might, tested them on Cheering Charms at the beginning of the exam, which set everyone in good moods for the rest of their tasks, which were considerably more tricky. The others involved Banishing Charms, which made the exam take an interesting turn when Mandy sent a table flying past Isobel and slamming straight into the wall behind her. Calla's Banishing Charm hadn't gone great - the table had given a feeble sort of wobble and then scooted back a couple of inches - but the Counter-Spell she had to perform at the end was considerably better, and she thought that might have saved her marks. Flitwick smiled at her as she left, but she knew she couldn't relax now. After dinner, the Ravenclaws all went straight back to their tower to revise for their next exams, which were, for Calla, Ancient Runes, Transfiguration and Astronomy.

She was very grateful in Ancient Runes for the way the questions had swung; she was fairly confident about everything, except one question on the usage of the Younger Anglo-Saxon runes feoh and gyfu in festivals and business, which she wasn't entirely certain how to tackle. Other than that, though, she was quite pleased, and in Transfiguration after lunch she also managed to give her teapot a lovely green tortoise shell, even if it did have a spout instead of a face. Half a spell was better than none, she supposed, listening irritably to Hermione bemoan the fact that her tortoise wasn't quite the correct colour.

After those exams, they all had quick and nervous dinners, and Calla went to chat to Harry before the Astronomy exam the whole year was due to undertake that night. "I've definitely failed Potions," he told her grumpily. "When do you have Care of Magical Creatures? Hagrid's feeling awful."

"Not until Friday," she said. "It's the last exam, I think it's the same time as the Muggle Studies one for Gryffindor." Harry sighed. "I wish I could speak to him before the appeal."

"We'll go and see him on Thursday," Harry said. "After Divination, yeah?"

Calla nodded, before Daphne and Padma called her away to go over star charts with them.

Astronomy went quite alright, and in History of Magic on the Wednesday morning, Calla was quite certain she'd passed, having written a very lengthy essay on medieval witch-hunts, which was one of the topics she'd always been most interested in during that class. Then, as Harry and the rest of Gryffindor went off to their Herbology exam with the Hufflepuffs in the afternoon, Ravenclaw and Slytherin both went to their Defense Against the Dark Arts exam.

Remus' exam was very unusual, that was for certain. It was an obstacle course held outside in the sunlight, and they all had to go in one by one.

Calla was one of the first in, and though Remus gave her an encouraging smile, she felt awfully nervous as she headed first across a deep paddling pool containing a Grindylow, which she fended off as quickly as she could before skipping across a load of potholes with red caps in them. One of them grabbed her leg and she shrieked, but managed to kick it off, flying back into its hole.

After that was a large patch of marsh, in which a Hinkypunk greeted her. "If you go left you will find yourself on solid ground," it said, except Calla knew for a fact that if she went left she would fall down a steep hill onto stones. So she went right instead, and carried on dodging the Hinkypunk's instructions until she managed to cross, coming to a trunk that was left open.

She had to go inside it, but from the rattling inside she had a horrible feeling that she already knew what was inside it. It was too late not to go in, though, she knew. With a very tight grip on her wand, Calla climbed inside the rattling trunk and closed the lid.

There was a crack as the Boggart turned in front of her, and the figure of Tom Riddle crept from the trunk's shadows. It had the same effect as always, taking Calla's breath and warmth away. She stared at it, stepping back until she was right at the edge of the trunk. The Boggart just kept coming closer though, and she could feel the hammer of her heart growing weaker and her head growing fainter. She shivered in the unexpected cold, feeling her strength drain from her.

But she kept a grip on her wand. She tried to imagine Tom Riddle as anything less terrifying, but nothing would come to her. "Stop!" she shouted, as the Boggart advanced.

And then its breath began to rattle, and a voice spoke. "Mine," the Boggart said, and Calla gasped, feeling the warmth drain from her. Nausea rose in her throat. "I will take what I want. Step aside, silly girl. You cannot stop me."

"Go away!" she shouted at it, holding out her wand. What was funny, what could stop this? She wished it would simply stop, leave her alone. That voice echoed in her head and she sobbed violently, choking on it. She had to think of something, and fast. The Boggart was getting closer and its words were growing louder.

She thought of victory, then. Of defeating Tom Riddle that night, of winning and not being homeless, or weak. She aimed her wand at it. She had to try. "Riddikulus!" The Boggart faltered but did not stop. She imagined Tom Riddle small and as weak as she felt, imagined him cold and hopeless, and she imagined him sick at the sight of her life and her victory. "Riddikulus!"

The Boggart shrank down. She stared at it as it changed, as it faded, and as it stepped back, away from her. She wasn't going to take another chance.

Calla flung herself back out of the trunk, still shaking, but alright. Remus looked at her and grinned as she came out. "Congratulations," he said to her, making a note. "You've done very well."

She flushed with pride and went to join Sue and Terry, who had already passed the course. "Well done," Sue said, hugging her. "I thought I was going to faint with the Boggart."

Calla laughed weakly. "Yeah. Well, looks like we didn't." Terry grinned at her, and it made her grin too.

They waited on the grass for the rest of their class to finish, and Calla felt rather vindicated when she saw Draco Malfoy running out of the Boggart trunk, red in the face and complaining. He caught her laughing and glared. "Just you wait, Potter," he spat. "You won't be laughing tomorrow night."

"Shut up," she spat back, surprising herself. Remus glanced over worriedly but had to turn back to his clipboard a moment later. "Malfoy, you don't like me and you know what, fine. But you're seriously messed up if you're taking pleasure in a Hippogriff's death. It isn't funny!" she added, at the look on his face. "It's horrible! And you - you're sick if you really think this is okay!"

Malfoy muttered something under his breath and slunk away towards Parkinson and Crabbe, and Calla didn't speak to him again.

On Thursday morning, they went down to Herbology, potting and caring for various plants. Calla was sure she'd done alright, and at least none of her plants had wilted in the middle of the exam, as had happened to Mandy. "I don't know what happened," she kept saying as they went up to lunch. "I didn't even do anything wrong!"

"Yeah, your plant just died for no reason," Isobel said, and Lisa laughed.

"I'm sure you've done alright," Sue assured Mandy. "I just can't wait for everything to be over."

Calla's second to last exam was Divination that afternoon; she, Padma, Isobel, Terry and Michael wished the others good luck for Muggle Studies and headed nervously up the stairs to North Tower. People were already sitting on the floor, trying to cram in bits and pieces of revision, and Calla sighed as she leaned against the wall. Parvati and Lavender were both whispering to each other very nervously.

"She wants to see us all separately," Neville told them, as Harry and Ron also came up the stairs. "Have any of you seen anything in a crystal ball?"

"Calla has," Padma said. "But I don't think anyone else has. Except Parvati, apparently." She glared along at her sister, who was talking hushedly to Lavender.

The queue outside the classroom went down very slowly, and each person who came out refused to tell them anything about what Trelawney had asked or what thy had seen. Calla was beginning to get nervous; maybe she should have tried revising more for this exam, but as long as she used the same methods as usual for Divination, she'd hoped that she'd be fine.

Neville came down the ladder very nervously. "She says," he squeaked, "that, if I tell you anything, I'll - I'll have a terrible accident!"

"That's convenient," snorted Ron. "You know, I'm beginning to think that Hermione was right about her." Calla narrowed her eyes. "She's a right old fraudster."

"She is not," Calla said hotly. "You just don't believe in the Sight!"

"Yeah, I don't," Ron shrugged. "I can't see hardly anything right, anyway. Easy for you to believe in it."

Calla frowned, and waited impatiently for her turn to go and see Trelawney. Parvati came down the ladder positively glowing, and told Padma that she'd been told she had, "All the makings of a true Seer!" before hurrying down the stairs to Lavender.

It was just Padma, Ron, Calla and Harry who were left now, and a misty voice called down, "Padma Patil."

Padma groaned. "Wish me luck," she muttered, before hurrying up into the classroom.

Calla sat down next to Harry, picking nervously at her fingernails. "You'll be fine," Harry told her.

"Yeah," she said absently. "I just... Don't have a very good feeling."

"Just nerves," Ron said, as Padma came down the stairs, lips pursed.

"Apparently I need to be more open-minded," she muttered. "Parvati seems to have gotten all the Sight, I could hardly seen anything!" She shook her head. "Want me to wait on you?"

Calla shook her head as Ron was called into Trelawney's classroom. "You go on, I'll meet you in the dormitory."

Padma nodded and disappeared down the stairs. Calla was now feeling slightly sick; she hated waiting. It was a long twenty minutes before Ron came down the ladder, and Harry and Calla both stood up. "How'd it go?" Harry asked him.

"Rubbish," Ron replied. "Couldn't see a thing, so I just made it up. Don't think she was convinced, though..."

"Calla Potter!" called Trelawney's voice.

Harry gave her a nervous smile as she headed up the ladder, entering the room. It was boiling hot, and the smoke was very thick and heavy. She coughed a little as she went to the table where Trelawney sat behind a crystal ball. "Good day, my dear," she said gently. "If you would kindly gaze into the orb, now... Take your time... Then tell me what you see... Within its depths."

Calla looked down, willing the fog to clear. It did so slowly, dissipating and curling around the edges of the glass. Some images came to the fore... Some old and some new.

"I see a wolf," she said quietly, and Trelawney nodded.

"The full moon!" she said. "Perhaps you are foreseeing the appearance of a werewolf."

Calla smiled nervously, and continued. "And there's a - an axe, swinging, and the crows." Her heart picked up. There was something there, something sinister. "A sand hourglass, the sand's running too quickly, like it's running out of time. And the forest, it's... The trees look like they're moving, Professor." Trelawney was scribbling furiously on her parchment. "And there's a lake, and a face... I can see the moon... And this looks like an eagle, but I'm not sure if it's... real, it looks strange. And there's a stag, over there, it's moving through the trees."

"Luck in time of peril," Trelawney muttered. "Anything else?"

"I can see... A black dog. And a face." Her stomach dropped. "It looks like - like Sirius Black, Professor."

Trelawney dropped her quill, and horror dawned over Calla. "I can see something... A mass of darkness..."

"Dementors?" asked Trelawney, and Calla shook her head.

"I - I'm not sure, Professor. Maybe, but, this is different." It felt different. The nauseous feeling was back, and she knew something was wrong. "There's a hand, it's all grey and - and the nails are broken, it's reaching to me."

"The dying hand again," Trelawney murmured. "My dear..."

She was about to excuse herself, feeling like she was about to be sick, when she knocked the glass. Another shape raced through the crystal ball. "Fire," she said to Trelawney. "I can see fire."

Another vision pressed in on her. This was new. She was in a forest, a very different one than she'd known before. On the ground lay a broken, skeletal form. It might have been human, once, but it rocked back and forth and it was so gone, so diminished, raw to the bone and covered in blood. It lay on the grass, the blood brown and old and Calla reached out a hand.

A rat scurried past, and she felt its rough fur brush against her. She shivered, withdrawing, but then she looked at the broken form on the ground and felt something wrong. Fear shot through her veins as her heart plummeted.

The rat was a man, now, silhouetted against a green light. "You shall rise, my Lord," he said. "To greater heights than ever before. You shall rise and you shall take what is yours."

And then the man turned. The little broken skeleton looked at her, the bones of its hand shaking, and pointed to her. Calla looked right into its eyes and pain seared across her scar, pain like she'd never known before. She felt herself falling, reaching for a hand that wasn't there.

She hit her head off the table and fell onto the floor, dazed and confused. Her heart hammered and she couldn't bring herself to speak, only move her mouth, with no words coming out.

Trelawney looked at her most curiously, and reached out a hand. Calla didn't take it. She stood up on her own and stared at the professor, still mute from horror and fear. "My dear, are you quite well?"

She found herself nodding even though she only wanted to say, "No."

Trelawney frowned. "I sense you may not be." Calla didn't say anything, just clutched the desk tighter. "Very well. If that is all, you may go. No doubt your Inner Eye is tired. Good luck for your exam tomorrow, Miss Potter, should you attend it."

Calla gave her a hasty smile as she got up. Trelawney called Harry in and she hurried past him, bag swinging. "How did it-" he began, but she pushed past, shaking her head.

She ran back to Ravenclaw Tower as fast as she could, heart still hammering in her chest. Bile rose in her throat and she clutched at the wall, coughing. She had to keep going, she told herself. She would be fine if she could get some water and sit down.

Something brushed against her. Calla looked down to see Matilda, her tail moving back and forth against Calla's ankles in an oddly comforting way. "Keep walking," she seemed to be saying, so Calla did.

She kept walking all the way until Ravenclaw Tower, where Luna Lovegood hovered at the door. "Oh, hello, Calla Potter." She blinked. "Are you quite alright? You haven't been hurt by an Arlump, have you?"

Calla shook her head; she had no idea what an Arlump was. "Well, you do look quite pale. Perhaps you had better sit down. The door wants to know where the Earth ends."

Calla thought for a moment. "It ends where it ends," she said. "Or when the sun dies and it has nothing pulling it down anymore."

The door swung open. "That was an interesting answer," said Luna, and she skipped inside without another word. Calla went through numbly, making her way up to the dormitory.

Daphne and Padma were both already inside, both huddled on Daphne's bed. When Calla entered, they looked up and without warning, Daphne leapt to her feet and almost knocked Calla over in a hug.

"Oh, Calla, It's horrible!" she cried. "Hagrid just lost the appeal, he sent a note! Buckbeak's going to be executed at sunset!"

"What?" Calla asked, finding her voice. "But - but they can't! We have to go down, we have to stop it!

"Hagrid said not to come down," Padma said in a sorrowful voice. "And there's nothing we can do."

"But there has to be!" Calla said. Because she'd seen that axe, had seen Buckbeak and - and she needed to know that she could stop it. So she might stop what else she'd seen. "There has to be a way!"

"We'll be seen for certain," Daphne said, but Calla shook her head.

"No. No, I know every passage in this school and - and Harry has the cloak! He'll go, he must, I'll go down with him. We have to do something!"

"We can't," Padma said, sniffling. She curled her knees up to her chest. "We'll see him tomorrow, in the exam. Though I don't know how we can possibly sit it."

Though the others wouldn't, Calla had to go. At dinner she went over to Harry and the others and told them she was going to see Hagrid, and she needed the cloak, and it turned out they'd been going to do the same. After dinner she waited for them outside the Great Hall, anxiously tearing at her fingernails, before the other three came out.

"Come on," Harry's voice said, and they skulked into an empty chamber off of the Entrance Hall. "We'll wait until everyone else's gone."

Hermione was on lookout on the Entrance Hall, watching and listening as footsteps passed them by. "Are you alright?" Harry asked Calla quietly.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said, looking determinedly at Hermione. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You looked upset after the exam." He paused a moment while she remained silent. "What did you see?"

"I don't know," she whispered back. "Don't make me talk about it right now. I really don't want to."

"Listen," Harry said quietly. "At the end of my exam, Trelawney said something. I think she-"

"All clear," said Hermione, glancing back at them, and Harry pulled the cloak out, with a grudging look at Calla. Ron was looking between them very confusedly. She knew she'd have to explain everything eventually. But for now, she really didn't like she could bring herself to do it, and though she felt bad thinking it, she wasn't really sure she wanted to. "Cloak on."

They all huddled under the cloak, which was becoming rather difficult. They all kept growing now, and had to take extra care not to let any part of them show as they shuffled their way out of the castle. The lights were on in Hagrid's hut, and Calla took in a deep breath as they approached. She knew that he'd surely be devastated.

Hermione knocked on the door and barely a minute later it swung open. Hagrid was standing in the doorway, pale faced, trembling and looking like he was about to cry as he stared around.

"Hagrid," Calla whispered. "It's us. Can we come in?"

"Yeh shouldn' 'ave come!" Hagrid said, but he let them in anyway.

"We couldn't leave you on your own," Calla told him as she ducked out from underneath the cloak and went to hug Hagrid as tight as she could. He was shaking.

"Wan' some tea?" he asked weakly, hands trembling as he reached for the kettle.

"I'll get it," Calla said gently, taking the heavy kettle from him. She was sure he'd drop it, or hurt himself, and that was the last thing they needed. Hermione hurried to her side to help.

"Where's Buckbeak, Hagrid?" asked Hermione.

"I - I took 'im out back," Hagrid said, spilling a jug of milk over the table. "Though' 'e oughtta see the trees an' - an' smell the fresh air one las' time, 'fore he-"

His hand slipped over the milk jug and it went crashing to the ground, shattering. Calla sent the kettle down anxiously, but Hermione rushed over, looking fretful. "I'll sort it, Hagrid," she said quickly.

"There's another one in the cupboard," Hagrid said, as Calla went over to guide him to sit down.

"Isn't there anything anyone can do, Hagrid?" Harry asked fiercely, sitting beside him. "What about Dumbledore?"

"He's tried," Hagrid said wearily, and Calla's heart sank. "But he's got no power ter overrule the Committee. He told 'em Buckbeak's all right, but they're scared... Yeh know what Lucius Malfoy's like... threatened 'em, I expect... an' the executioner, Macnair, he's an old pal o' Malfoy's... but it'll be quick an' clean... an' I'll be beside him..." Hagrid buried his face in a massive handkerchief for a moment, before resurfacing and gulping loudly. "Dumbledore says he'll come down ter see me... Wants teh be with me when it happens... Great man, Dumbledore," he mumbled tearily. "Great man."

Hermione let out a small, quickly stifled sob from where she was rummaging in the cupboard. Calla returned to the kettle, and Hermione straightened up. "We'll stay with you," she said adamantly. "You should have friends with you."

"Yeh're to go back up ter the castle," Hagrid said firmly. "It ain't safe out 'ere still, an' I told yeh I don' wan' yeh watchin'. An' if Fudge an' Dumbledore catch the two of yeh out here, Calla, Harry... Yeh'll get in loads of trouble."

The kettle had boiled. Calla picked it up, swallowing back the tears that threatened to fall, and looked for the teabags. She passed Hermione, who was sorting the milk, and was almost knocked over as Hermione shrieked, stumbling back. "What?" Calla asked frantically, jumping, and Hermione pointed shakily to the ground.

"No," Calla said, disbelievingly. It couldn't be.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"I - I don't believe it," said Hermione shakily. "Ron, it's Scabbers!"

Calla's heart was going a hundred miles an hour. How many times had she seen a rat in her visions this year? Something didn't feel right. "Are you - are you sure it's Scabbers?" she asked as Ron hurried over, scooping up the flailing rat.

"Course it's Scabbers!" Ron said, holding him tightly. "Look at his toes! But - Scabbers, what are you doing here?"

Scabbers was writhing in Ron's hands, like he was desperate to escape. His little claws scraped against Ron, who held on tightly as he could. "What are you so worried about?" Ron asked him. "There's no cats here, Scabbers, there's nothing that's going to hurt you."

Calla was still staring. Her stomach twisted. There was something whispering at the edge of her mind, a feeling of foreboding, as she drew invisible lines. The rat in the forest- but no, of course that wasn't Scabbers. What would Scabbers be doing with - with that? "Ron," she said confusedly, "are you sure-"

"They're comin'," Hagrid said grimly, cutting her off. Calla whipped around to see out the window, where a small procession was winding through the grounds towards them. Dumbledore led them, silver beard glistening as Fudge and the executioner - MacNair - followed him down.

"Yeh gotta go," Hagrid said, trembling all over. "They mustn' find yeh here... Go now."

Ron stuffed a still writhing Scabbers into his pocket and buttoned it. Harry handed the cloak to Hermione. "Come on. I'll lead yeh out the back way."

"It'll be okay, Hagrid," Calla said, hugging him tightly one last time. "I'm so sorry."

There was nothing she could do now. She wished that she could, wished she could take Buckbeak and fly him away out of here, but there was no way. Her eyes fell on him and she let out a sob, hurrying over. "Calla!" Hermione hissed, but she couldn't stop her as she lay a hand on Buckbeak's neck, stroking his feathers gently and crying.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, laying her head against Buckbeak's feathers. "Buckbeak, I'm so sorry. I wish I'd been able to do more."

It felt like she was going to shake enough to fall apart as Harry and Ron took her hands, leading her away. "Go quick," Hagrid said, as he turned back towards his hut. "Don' listen."

Harry and Ron were tugging her away, and Calla let them, barely watching where she was going. "Please, let's hurry, I can't stand it," Hermione whispered, urging them onwards as the sun began to set over the forest.

They hurried on up the steep grassy slope, away from Buckbeak, away from Hagrid. Calla choked back a sob, looking over her shoulder. The trees at the edge of the forest rustled sinisterly. She wasn't looking where she was going; she crashed into Ron, who had stopped dead.

"Oh, please, Ron," Hermione pleaded.

"It's Scabbers!" he protested. "He won't stay still!"

The little rat was trying to scramble its way out of his pocket, quite aggressively, and Ron was bent over trying to stop him from getting out. He was squeaking, flailing wildly in a way Calla had never seen before. "Something's wrong," Calla said. "Scabbers, what is it, what are you trying to tell us?"

"Scabbers, it's me you idiot," Ron hissed. "It's Ron!"

Calla heard a door closing somewhere behind them, and voices. It was happening. "Ron, please," Hermione said pleadingly, eyes wide and worried. "We have to go."

"Okay," Ron said, shoving Scabbers firmly back in his pocket. "Scabbers, stay put."

They went on for only a few seconds before Ron stopped again. "I can't hold him," he muttered. "Scabbers, shut up, they'll hear us!"

Calla gave up, marching on ahead. She couldn't do this, couldn't bear to hear it. Harry ran up and caught her arm as Scabbers squealed again. There was a jumble of voices behind them as Calla tried to hurry on, but then the cold swish of an axe stopped her. She turned and saw the axe go down behind a bush.

A murder of crows flew out from the forest.

Calla let out a muffled sob and ducked down, grabbing onto Harry's arm. Hermione pressed at her back, burying her face in someone's shoulder. "They did it," she said hoarsely. "I don't believe it they - they actually did it."

Author's Note: So I totally intended to get this up on Monday and then what do you know life happened and I completely forgot, but hey, it's up now! We're almost at the climax of third year and I am so excited because Sirius is going to be making an appearance very soon indeed. This upcoming section was one of my favourites to write so I hope you enjoy it too and like what I've done with it. Happy reading!