Chapter 17:
Consequences
Hagrid took a few moments to regain his senses because of the shock, face still white. Blaise groaned from behind Malfoy, blood staining his robes, spurring Hagrid into action. He finally secured the collar around Buckbeak's neck, but the creature didn't seem to notice. The Hippogriff remained bowed, whimpering as it knelt on the floor.
"Someone help me – gotta get him out of here –" Hagrid anxiously pleaded, walking cautiously around Malfoy, who was still glaring at Buckbeak, the Hippogriff knelt at his feet. Harry couldn't move. No one could. What had just happened?
Hermione ran to open the gate, the only one of them that seemed to have woken up from their shock. Hagrid lifted Zabini easily, sending Malfoy a worried glance. He seemed to pause, hesitant in his decision, but then Zabini groaned, highlighting the severity of the situation. Clearly panicked, Hagrid chose the boy in his arms as the main priority, turning and heading for the gate. As they passed, Harry saw that there was a long, deep gash in Zabini's arm and Hagrid ran with him, up the slope towards the castle.
Once he had disappeared, the class turned their attention to Malfoy, who still stood in the exact same spot. His hands were shaking, curled into fists. Buckbeak still whimpered at his feet. Then he turned around.
Harry had seen Malfoy sneer, frown, glare and about every other expression the Slytherin had at his disposal. He had even seen the boy angry once or twice. But the expression on his face wasn't anger. This – this was fury.
Malfoy didn't say a word. He stalked forward, ignoring everyone as they parted around him like the Great Red Sea. He grabbed his Monster Book Of Monsters, picking up his bag and exiting the paddock. The gate smashed against the fence when he left, making the whole class jump.
Silence fell.
Buckbeak finally rose from his feet, but kept his head hung low. His whimpers and worried chittering failed to cease, backing away to furthest part of the paddock the collar would allow him. Very shaken, the Care of Magical Creatures class followed at a walk. Everyone could see Malfoy in the distance, his bag slung over his shoulder, eyes fixed straight ahead. He didn't glance back. The other Slytherins were shouting about Hagrid.
"They should sack him straight away!" A Slytherin boy snarled. Beside him, Daphne Greengrass was struggling to hold her tears at bay.
"That beast attacked B-Blaise… He'll be ok won't he? He has to be ok." Daphne turned to Pansy, who slung an arm around her shoulders.
"It was Malfoy's fault!" snapped Dean Thomas as he passed the Slytherins.
"Draco? If that useless oaf of a teacher had given us more protection, or maybe even better, not introduced beasts to students, Blaise wouldn't have been injuried! This is all Hagrid's fault, not Draco's!" Pansy shrieked, making a move to attack Dean, but was held back Daphne. Crabbe and Goyle flexed their muscles threateningly.
They all climbed the stone steps into the deserted Entrance Hall just in time to see Malfoy turn around a corner, clearly headed in the direction of the Hospital Wing.
"I'm going to see if they're okay." Daphne sniffed, and they all watched as she rushed up the marble steps. Pansy looked like she wanted to follow, but another Slytherin grabbed her arm, holding her back and shaking his head. The Slytherins, still muttering about Hagrid, headed away in the direction of their dungeon common room; Harry, Ron and Hermione proceeded upstairs to Gryffindor Tower.
"D'you think he'll be all right?" said Hermione nervously.
"Course he will, Madam Pomfrey can mend cuts in about a second," said Harry, who had had far worse injuries mended magically by the matron.
"That was a really bad thing to happen in Hagrid's first class, though, wasn't it?" said Ron, looking worried. "Trust Malfoy to mess things up for him… I mean, it would be bad enough if Malfoy was hurt, but causing another student injury? "
They were among the first to reach the Great Hall at dinner-time, hoping to see Hagrid, but he wasn't there.
"They wouldn't sack him, would they?" said Hermione anxiously, not touching her steak-and-kidney pudding.
"They'd better not." said Ron, who wasn't eating either.
Harry was watching the Slytherin table. A large group including Crabbe and Goyle were huddled together, deep in conversation. Harry was sure they were cooking up their own version of how Zabini was injured, one which excluded the part where it was all Malfoy's fault.
"How do you think Malfoy got Buckbeak to kneel?" Harry asked.
"No idea. I didn't recognise the language he used. It certainly wasn't a spell, else that would have been Latin." Hermione informed them.
"Well, you can't say it wasn't an interesting first day back," said Ron gloomily.
Draco sat, leant against the stone corridor walls, eyes fixed ahead of him, knees tucked under his arms. Daphne Greengrass paced a few steps away, her footsteps echoing through the halls. They didn't talk. Daphne had tried to strike up conversation when she first arrived, but when all her comments and questions had been met with silence, she soon learnt that Draco was not in the talkative mood.
Dumbledore had arrived a few minutes prior, Professor McGonagall and their Head of House, Professor Snape, a few seconds behind him. All three had disappeared into the Hospital Wing and hadn't left since. Madame Pompfrey had barred them from The Hospital Wing upon their arrival as she tended to Blaise. Draco could still picture the amount of blood staining the sheets.
Draco clenched and unclenched his fists, using the motion to focus. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Daphne send him a wary glance.
The great oak doors opened wide, making Daphne freeze in her pacing. Draco's eyes shot to the doors, quickly scrambling to his feet. Dumbledore stood in the doorway, those twinkling eyes scanning over them both.
"Headmaster."
"Miss Greengrass. Mr Malfoy. It seems your friend will make a full recovery."
Daphne released a sigh of relief while Draco swallowed, looking down at his feet. It was alright. Blaise was alive.
"Can we see him?" Daphne asked, moving forward in a hopeful way. Dumbledore smiled sadly at her, shaking his head.
"I'm afraid not, Miss Greengrass. Maybe tomorrow. Why don't you join your housemates in the Great Hall? I heard they were serving sticky toffee pudding for dessert."
"Right. Of course, Headmaster." Daphne said. She seemed to shrink in disappointment. Draco equally felt his heart plummet, exchanging a glance with the blonde-haired girl. Daphne turned away first, heading for the Great Hall and Draco moved to follow her, only to be stopped by the Headmaster's voice.
"Mr Malfoy. Would you mind staying a moment? Severus and I have some questions for you."
Swallowing, Draco glanced back at Daphne, who had paused upon realising he was not following her. "I'll see you later."
"Alright." Daphne hesitated, sending him once last curious glance before turning and leaving, disappearing around the corner. Only when her footsteps faded away did Dumbledore speak.
"What happened to Blaise was incredibly serious, Draco. We understand you witnessed the event?"
Me and everyone in the class. Draco frowned. Hagrid must have told them. It was the only explanation.
"If it wasn't for Blaise, the beast would have attacked me."
"Hagrid tells us it was you who helped reign Buckbeak in. Apparently you seemingly commanded him to stop."
"Well someone had to do it since he wasn't much help."
"You wouldn't mind explaining how you knew what to do?"
Think Draco, think.
"My uncle. He…He works with Magical Creatures. Over the years he's taught me a thing or too."
"Your… Professor… tells us that you used a foreign word. Creviane. Kreain?" Snape prompted, causing Draco to frown deeply. He didn't like the way his Head of House was staring at him
"Krevain. It's old language - what the druids used to use. They were once incredibly close with… magical creatures."
"Hm… Well, I'm sure Mr. Zabini will be incredibly grateful." Snape drawled.
"I think we're even, since he saved my life first."
"Indeed. I'm sure if you hurry you can catch up to Miss Greengrass. The elves will be serving dinner soon." Dumblerdore smiled, his voice carrying his usual energy. As if there was nothing wrong at all. Draco knew better.
"Thank you sir. Headmaster." Draco bowed his head slightly, turning to walk away. He glanced back, only to see Dumbledore still watching him, an unreadable expression in his twinkling eyes. Snape seemed to be talking to him, eyes flickering to Draco, the topic of conversation obvious. Draco swallowed, increasing his pace.
As soon as Draco left Dumbledore's sight, he dropped all pretenses and sprinted down the corridor, racing all the way back to the Slytherin dormitories. When he arrived, the common room was virtually empty, except for a second year studying at one of the desks. Everyone had most likely gone to the Great Hall for dinner, leaving the dormitories completely silent, devoid of any regular student chatter. The dorms were much the same, empty except for the occasional student dropping off their bags and books, the sound of doors opening and closing occasionally breaking the silence. Draco rushed down the steps thankful for this, his dorm empty when he reached it. He slammed the door closed, his breathing ragged.
Draco threw his bag and Monster Book of Monsters to the side before letting himself fall backwards onto his bed. The soft mattress cushioned his fall, letting him sink into the pillows as he closed his eyes. Draco took a deep breath, breathing out long and slow. No prying eyes. No questions. Just beautiful, blissful silence. Why couldn't the first day be boring, like last year?
Rolling onto his side, Draco released a sigh as he opened his eyes. His peaceful expression changed, however, when he noticed the glint of the scrying mirror shining from its hidden position in the gap between his bed and side table, a frustrated frown developing on his face. Eyes narrowing to a glare, Draco turned his gaze to the green drapes hanging above him, refusing to take his eyes off the bed canopy. No. He would not call Atlas. He was still angry with him remember? He was fine on his own. He was fine. Slowly, against his better judgement, Draco turned his head once more to glimpse the shine of the mirror's reflective surface. Damn it.
Groaning into his pillow, Draco lunged across his bed and snatched the mirror. He drew the canopy curtains with a flick of his wand and set up a privacy charm, manoeuvring his limbs so he was sat cross-legged on top of his covers. After Draco muttered the spell, the mirror began to spark to life, swirling mist spinning around inside the glass, vibrating against his fingertips. Several minutes passed, during which Draco seriously debated throwing the damn thing across the room, before Atlas finally answered, his face fading into existence among the mist.
"Look, Draco, if this is about last night, I'm afraid my answer hasn't changed and I'd prefer it if you didn't harass me with constant calls. The mirror is for when you need me, not for whenever you're feeling bored-"
"A Hippogriff attacked Blaise." Draco blurted out. Atlas froze during his ramblings, staring at Draco like he had just grown another head.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"Today, in my Care of Magical Creatures class, the teacher brought Hippogriffs to the paddock for the students to study. Blaise was attacked – one of them tore his arm to pieces. There was blood everywhere and I-"
"Whoa, Draco, slow down. Blaise Zabini? That boy? And what do you mean it tore his arm to pieces?"
"There was blood all over his arm, the Hippogriff's talon slashed him. We need to tell my father – why are you looking so relieved?"
Atlas narrowed his eyes, annoyed by the judgement in Draco's voice. "Well, for a minute I thought you meant the Hippogriff had torn the boy's arm clean off."
"It could have done!" Draco protested angrily, voice quite shrill. "We have to get father to demand it be put down. The thing nearly killed me!"
"I thought you said it attacked Blaise?" Atlas asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Well," Draco began, his eyes darting away from Atlas' stern gaze. "it attacked me first, which is why it hit Blaise because he moved in front of me-"
"So you're the one who provoked it? Not Blaise?" Atlas interrupted.
"…P-Provoked it!" Draco spluttered indignantly. "It tried to kill me!" Draco yelled. Atlas didn't seem concerned, his frown only deepening.
"And why exactly did it try to kill you, Draco?" Atlas asked carefully.
"Are you defending it? I could have died. Blaise is currently laying in the Hospital Wing!" Draco shrieked.
"Did you insult it?" Atlas asked abruptly, ignoring Draco's hysteria. The boy blinked in shock.
"What?"
"Did you insult it?" Atlas reiterated. Draco froze, hesitating far too long.
"….No."
"Draco."
"Fine, I called it an ugly brute, alright?" Draco admitted, face defiant. "It looked like a giant overgrown chicken! It doesn't change the fact that it attacked me!"
Atlas swore, running hand through his hair as he turned away from the mirror. Draco thought he heard something smash off screen, perhaps because Atlas had kicked it. When his father turned back to face him, he face was contorted with anger. "It attacked you because you insulted it, you idiot!"
"That's not my fault!" Draco yelled.
"Yes it is!" Atlas shouted back.
"Well, first off, the useless oaf shouldn't have been teaching us about Hippogriffs on our first day back and second, if those things are so sensitive why are we allowed to be near them at all?"
"Because sensible people don't insult creatures that can easily kill them if provoked." Atlas explained, his tone patronising. This seemed to only rile Draco up more.
"We're Dragonborns. We're royalty – it shouldn't have dared attack us!"
"So because you're a Prince, you have every right to insult it, is that it?" Atlas countered, his voice rising to compete with Draco's
"Well, yes! I'm an Ambrosius aren't I?"
"Yes you are." Atlas snarled. "But that gives you no right to demand respect from others."
"Why the hell not?!" Draco roared, flinging his arms out in frustration. Atlas narrowed his eyes into slits.
"Because you have power, power that is supposed to be used to protect the weak, not oppress them. That is your sacred duty." Atlas jabbed a finger at Draco, his toner unquestionable. "That is the responsibility of an Ambrosius."
"It was just a Hippogriff, Atlas." Draco stated, his sneer implying exactly what he thought about such a creature.
Atlas stilled, his jaw clenching so hard the cords in his neck jutted out.
"Funny. Centuries ago, a wizard would say the exact same thing about a Dragonborn." He ground out. Draco paled, quickly trying to justify his comment.
"I-I…T-That's different. We're not animals-"
"No, you'll find we are." Atlas corrected before Draco could make any more excuses. "We are called magical creatures for a reason, Draco. Every creature on this earth deserves respect. Without one species, the whole natural balance of order will fall."
"That's just overreacting." Draco weakly protested.
"Really?" Atlas sneered. "Well, then, tell me this: what would happen if bees suddenly went extinct?"
"I don't know. What the hell has that got to do with-"
"Bees are the main pollinators on the planet. Although humanity wouldn't face severe consequences accept for experiencing record low harvest yields and having to live with a bland diet that wipes most fruits, nuts and vegetables off as an option, the rest of the ecosystem wouldn't be so lucky. Many creatures would lose their main food source, and if the prey starts dying off it doesn't take a genius to know the predators are next to go. And like dominoes, the whole food chain falls."
"…That sounds bad."
"It is. Every creature is important. The same rules apply to the magical world. Every day, day after day, the world is in a delicate balance of life and death. Too much death and the whole scale collapses, dragging creatures like us with it. Every creature has a purpose. Ours is to keep that balance from collapsing."
"Are you angry with me?"
Atlas sighed. "The worst thing is, I'm not angry with you. I'm just disappointed. The Hippogriff will most likely be executed because of you. As for Blaise, he could have died – you could have died if he didn't have such quick reflexes."
"They said Blaise would be fine, the cut wasn't that deep-"
"That's not the point. One more centimetre and the talon could have nicked an artery. If that had happened, Blaise would have bled to death before Hagrid even got him to the Hospital Wing."
Draco paled even further, starting to feel sick. Blaise could have died. All because of him. Draco swallowed the bile in his throat.
"I'm sorry."
"It's not me you should apologise to." Atlas ground out.
"Atlas… I'm still sorry alright? I-I was stupid." Draco stuttered, the severity of the situation he had caused finally dawning on him.
Atlas sighed, removing his hand from his eyes, looking up to meet Draco's gaze. "I know. I'm sorry too."
"What for?" Draco asked, brows furrowing in confusion. Atlas looked away, his hand fiddling with the watch fastened to his wrist.
"Didn't you think Blaise jumping in to save your life was unlike him?" Atlas prompted.
"I suppose it was more of a Gryffindor thing to do but I guess I've been a bit preoccupied…" Draco trailed off, frowning. Then his eyes widened in realisation. "Wait, are you saying you had something to do with it?" Atlas didn't answer. "Atlas?"
His blood father winced, avoiding Draco's gaze. "Blaise asked me to wait for him to tell you."
"Tell me what?" Draco asked impatiently, tone tightening with irritation.
Atlas locked his eyes with Draco's gaze. "That you're not alone."
"Not alone-" Draco stopped, eyes widening. "…. No. Way."
Atlas nodded. "You know I was close to his father. When he died…" Draco watched as Atlas swallowed, the man avoiding Draco's eyes as he turned away. "Blaise's Mother is a witch. She doesn't know much about the Dragon World and what she does know she tolerates for the sake of her son. I helped Blaise with his first shifts and introduced him to his heritage, so when you both started Hogwarts, I asked him to keep an eye on you, protect you if need be."
"You asked Blaise to babysit me?" Draco asked incredulously. Atlas glared at him.
"He grew up with one foot in the Wizarding World and the other in the Dragon World, Draco. He'll understand what you're going through." Atlas paused, noticing Draco's uncertainty. "Just go speak with him. He shouldn't have jumped in front of you like that. I better try and contact his Mother." Atlas shifted, clearly intending to cut the connection. Draco quickly leaned forward to stop him.
"Atlas, wait, there was another thing."
Atlas froze, frowning. "What?"
Draco bit his lip. "After Blaise fell, after Buckbeak attacked… I don't know… I lost control. Don't worry! My eyes didn't change and I didn't shift but.."
"But what?" Atlas questioned.
"Well, I saw the blood on Blaise's robes and it… all I could think about was the blood on the floor and I… I think a part of me must have sensed Blaise was like me, a Dragonborn, and I lost it. Before I realised what I was even doing I had ordered Buckbeak to kneel. And the scary part is, he did."
"You spoke in Dragon tongue?"
"Yeah, but I don't remember you ever teaching me that word, let alone how to pronounce it."
"It was your instincts. Like I said, an Ambrosius' duty is to protect our people, far more than to rule them. Did anyone witness it?"
"Just my whole Care of Magical Creatures class. Dumbledore and Snape questioned me about it."
"What did you tell them?"
"Just that my uncle worked with Magical Creatures, that he taught me a few things. Though whether they believed me is another matter."
"Try to keep your head down and don't attract any more attention. With any luck Dumbledore will soon be distracted."
"I didn't mean for this to happen." Draco pleaded quietly. Atlas' mouth formed a thin line, probably biting back something harsh.
"Then make sure it never happens again. Think about what I said. Respect is earnt Draco, not freely given." And with that, Atlas cut the connection, leaving Draco feeling worse than ever before.
What had he done?