January 1996
With the excitement of Christmas and the Yule Ball out of the way, the minds of the students now turned to all of the homework that they had neglected during the holidays. Everybody seemed to be feeling rather flat now that the holidays were over (especially with Guy Fawkes and New Years just passed), everyone that is except for Harry (who moved around the castle with a look of nervousness permanently etched onto his features) and all the bookworms who avidly enjoyed school, like Hermione.
The trouble was with January underway, the second task of the Triwizard Tournament seemed a lot closer than it was before. Hermione knew, that despite her consistent reminders, Harry had yet to even crack the egg open again, let alone figure out what it meant and she worried for him. Harry had practically snarled at her the other day when she had suggested visiting the Library for ideas.
She wasn't really sure what Viktor had figured out in regards to the tournament, he didn't really talk about it—he didn't really talk at all actually. Most days between the two were spent hiding from his glaring fan club or hiding away in secret places to either snog or read (sometimes to each other, and sometimes alone). To be fair, most days the tournament was the furthest thing from their minds.
On another note, she and Ron had seemingly made up—at least on the surface. Their little spat around Yule was basically swept under the rug, and it didn't hurt matters that Hermione had yet to remove the hex Molly had taught her, from Ron (the one involving the canary tucked away in Pomfrey's office). It was a little bit of blackmail that she refused to remove from above his head (she knew how he got with his jealousness and possessiveness), instead keeping it as insurance—admittedly she did forget about it not long after the New Year started.
And so on the first day of the new term, Hermione sauntered off to class weighed down by her books, parchment and quills, as per usual. Snow was still thick on the grounds, painting the landscape white and the greenhouse windows were constantly splattered in condensation so thick it looked like oil paint.
Nobody was looking forward to Care of Magical Creatures in this weather, even with the news that an unknown substitute would be taking them for a period of time. Ron had commented that at least the skrewts would probably warm them up nicely—either by chasing them down or blasting off so forcefully that Hagrid's cabin would catch fire. However when they arrived at Hagrid's cabin, they found their substitute—an elderly witch with closely cropped grey hair and a very prominent chin—standing before his front door. Hagrid's silhouette could be seen moving around inside his cabin, but he didn't come out. Whatever they were doing today, Hagrid didn't seem to be invited, much to his chagrin.
"Hurry up, now, the bell rang five minutes ago!" The witch barked at them as they struggled towards her through the snow.
"Who're you?" Ron demanded, "Where's Hagrid?"
Typical. Hermione mentally rolled her eyes, They didn't listen. Again.
"My name is Professor Grubbly-Plank" The elderly witch introduced briskly, "I am your temporary Care of Magical Creatures teacher"
"Where's Hagrid?" Harry repeated rather loudly an indignantly.
"He is indisposed" Grubbly-Plank replied shortly. Soft and unpleasant laughter trickled up from the back of the class. Turning, they were met with Malfoy and his gang of Slytherins who appeared unsurprised at the change in teachers. "This way please" Grubbly-Plank strode forth quickly towards the paddock where the Beauxbatons horses were shivering.
Hermione hurried to catch up to Harry and Ron who continued to rudely pester their teacher; sparing only a single glance back over her shoulder at Hagrid's cabin where she swore she saw him peeking through the curtains with a solemn expression on his face. Up ahead Harry was continuing to rudely demand answers. "What's wrong with Hagrid?"
"Never you mind" Grubbly-Plank retorted as though she though he was being nosy.
"I do mind though" Harry snapped, hotly "What's up with him?" But the professor just acted as if she couldn't hear him and marched on.
The closer to the Forest the class ventured, the more at ease Hermione felt; it was like coming home. She could feel the magic calling out to her—not just from the coven's warded clearing, but also from all the creatures hidden within. Grubbly-Plank led them passed the paddock where the huge Beauxbatons horses were standing huddled like penguins against the biting cold, and over towards a tree on the edge of the Forest where a large and beautiful unicorn was tethered.
Hermione, alongside many of the other girls, "Oohed!" and "Ahhed!" at the sight of the magnificent creature. The unicorn was so brightly coloured in pure white that it made the snow around them appear grey. It was pawing the ground nervously with golden hooves and throwing back its horned head.
"Oh! It's so beautiful!" Lavender gushed as she passed by as if drawn towards the creature by some unseen force, "How'd she get it? They're s'posed to be really hard to catch!"
"Boys! Keep back!" Barked Grubbly-Plank, throwing out an arm and catching Harry hard in the chest as Hermione slipped by. "They prefer the woman's touch, unicorns. Girls to the front, and approach with care, c'me on now, easy does it…"
All the young witches followed after the professor as they slowly stalked forth toward the unicorn, leaving the boys to stand neat the paddock fence, watching. The moment they came within reaching distance of the beast, Grubbly-Plank pulled out a thin slice of steak of all things, and offered it to the beast. "Pure though the beast may be, but weak it is not…" Grubby-Plank stated as razor-like fangs tore into the meat in such a fashion that reminded Hermione of a starving dog.
You would think a display such as this would have put the girls off, but oh no! Just as with any other good-looking thing throughout history, the girls were drawn to it mindless of how dangerous the pretty beast may have been. Running a hand over the flank of the happy creature, Hermione was met with fur so soft that it almost seemed surreal. Absentmindedly she recognised that Grubbly-Plank was listing off endless facts about unicorns, but Hermione—like most of the girls—was too captivated with the beast before them to pay much attention to the word falling from her lips. Like sailors enchanted by a siren, the witches happily stroked and petted the unicorn until it seemed to have grown tired of their affections and Grubbly-Plank had since run dry on her slices of meat.
"I hope she stays, that woman!" Parvati exclaimed excitedly when the lesson ended and they were all trudging back up through the snow to the castle. "That's more what I though Care of Magical Creatures would be like…proper creatures like unicorns, not monsters…" Yeah, me too. Hermione thought, a little guilty that she preferred the elderly witch over her friend.
"What about Hagrid? Harry angrily snapped as they went up the steps.
"What about him?" Parvati's voice turned hard and cold, "He can still be gamekeeper, can't he?" Both Patil twins had been rather cold towards the male thirds of the Golden Trio following the Yule Ball—not that Hermione could blame them.
"That was a really good lesson" Hermione commented as they became swamped by the warmth of the Great Hall "I didn't know half the things Professor Grubbly-Plank told us about unic—"
"—So you agree with them, then?" Harry snarled. "You think Hagrid is better off as the gamekeeper?"
"Harry" Hermione sighed as she poured herself some tea, "Did you not listen to anything Angelina said yesterday?" When she received no reply from either of the boys across from her, she sighed again "Remember: she said that Hagrid was put on sabbatical at the beginning of term because Dumbledore received so many complaints from parents about his teaching style" She set down the kettle and blew on her mug, trying to cool the floral tea within "He'll probably only be gone for the term or so—it's not like he's dead, y'know. You can still talk to him, he just won't be teaching us any time soon"
"Sabbatical?" Ron puzzled, confused by the word.
"Like paid leave" Hermione supplied.
"We've got to go and see him!" Harry declared, "This evening, after Divination. Tell him we want him back…you do want him back, right?" He shot Hermione a look, daring her to disagree.
"I—well, I'm not going to pretend it didn't make a nice chance having a proper Care of Magical Creatures lesson for once" Hermione stammered, quailing under Harry's furious stare "—But I want Hagrid back, I do!" She added hastily.
So that evening, after dinner, the three of the them bundled up in their warmest clothes and left the castle once more, trudging down through the frozen grounds to Hagrid's cabin. Harry's knocks pounded on the door and the trio were met with the bellowing barks of Fang on the other side of the wooden door. "Hagrid! It's us!" Harry tried, still pounding on the door as if that would help "Open up!"
But Hagrid didn't answer and they heard no footsteps approach the door. Only Fang's whining and scratching at the door answered their calls, leaving them to wonder what was going on. Oh! The whole castle can probably hear us! Hermione moaned as they hammered on the door for ten more minutes; Ron even went around the side and banged on the windows, rattling them, but there was no response. The curtains remained firmly shut and no one came out to greet them.
"What's he avoiding us for?" Ron puzzled when they finally gave up and were walking back to the school. "He surely doesn't think we care about his teaching style?" But it seemed he did care. Whatever had been in those letters from the outraged parents had served to cower the half-giant wizard into a such a depressive state that he refused to greet even Harry.
They didn't see hair nor hide of him all week: he didn't appear at the staff table for mealtimes, they didn't see him going about his gamekeeper duties and Grubbly-Plank continued on as their temporary teacher for Care of Magical Creatures. It didn't help matters that Malfoy took every chance to taunt and gloat about the absent man. "Missing your illiterate pal?" He'd whispered to Harry whenever a teacher was around, so that he was safe from Harry's retaliation, "Adding another idiot to your collection?" Hermione had a right old time trying to wrangle the two from trying to kill the blonde over those weeks.
Inevitably when the Hogsmeade weekend rolled around halfway through January, many students leapt at the chance for a break in their studies. Surprisingly, even Harry expressed desire in attending. "I just though you'd want to take advantage of the common room being quiet" Hermione nagged, "Really get to work on that egg"
"Oh I—I reckon I've got pretty good idea what it's about now" Harry lied, scratching his scar as he did so.
"Have you really?" Hermione narrowed her eyes at the squirming boy, well-aware that he was lying straight to her face. "What's it say then?"
"O-oh you know, this and that" Harry squirmed.
"Mm~hm" Hermione left it alone. She knew he had about five weeks left to figure it out, after all, and knowing him, he'd probably pull some kind of trick out of his arse at the last second. And do it brilliantly, like it was planned all along—it was just how he functioned, it was a wonder he wasn't dead already.
When Saturday rolled around, the Golden trio—bound in layers of woollen sweaters, worn denim and fuzzy hats—left the castle and set off through the cold, wet grounds towards the gates. As the passed by the Durmstrang ship, Hermione spared a wave at Viktor who had emerged out onto the deck in nothing more than his swimming trunks. Waving back, the teen climbed up to the top of the ship before diving into the freezing waters beneath. "He's mad!" Harry cried, staring Krum's dark head bobbing in the lake, "It must be freezing! It's January!"
"It's a lot colder where he's from" Hermione informed them, "I s'pose it feels quite warm to him"
"Yeah, but there's still the giant squid" Muttered Ron, who didn't sound anxious at all—if anything he sounded, almost hopeful.
"He's really nice, you know" Hermione frowned, catching the ginger's tone. "He's not all like you think, coming from Durmstrang. He likes it much better here, he told me so"
Ron said nothing and Hermione considered the argument won. Then again, he hadn't really mentioned Viktor since the Ball, but the occasional glare or frown whenever the wizard was mentioned showed Hermione just what he now thought of him. She was pretty sure the miniature he'd gotten from the Cup was mutilated as well, considering she'd found Crookshanks chewing on the headless and armless figurine.
As they walked, Harry kept his eyes peeled for Hagrid, peering into every store window as they passed and it was only once he had ascertained that his giant friend was nowhere to be found that he suggested the Three Broomsticks for lunch. The pub was as crowded as ever, a rush of warmth and chattered rushing to greet them when Ron heaved the old oak door open.
Tugging the boys out of the doorway and over to the bar, the three ordered their butterbeers and a basket of curly fries from Madam Rosemerta. Hermione's gaze wandered from Rosemerta's practise movements over to the multicoloured bottles behind the bar, before becoming stuck on something in the large frosty mirror. "Doesn't he ever go into the office?" Hermione whispered, "Look!"
Both boys followed her finger towards the mirror behind the bar which showcased the reflection of Ludo Bagman sitting a shadowy corner with a bunch of goblins; he appeared to be talking very fast and in a low voice to the goblins, all of whom had their arms crossed rather menacingly. He appeared rather strained—almost as badly as the night in the forest at the Cup, before the Dark Mark had been conjured—but then Bagman chose that moment to spare a glance towards the bar and upon catching sight of Harry, stood up.
"In a moment! In a moment!" She heard him brusquely say to the goblins before escaping towards the trio, with his boyish grin back in place. "Harry! How're you? Been hoping to run into you! Everything going all right?"
"Fine thanks" Harry replied tersely.
"Wonder if I could have a quick, private word, Harry?" Bagman said eagerly as Rosemerta placed their orders on the counter, "You couldn't give us a moment, could you?"
"Er—okay" Ron plucked his butterbeer and the baskets of fries from the bar and Hermione followed after, trying to snatch a few before the ginger devoured them all as they tried to find a table in the meantime.
"What d'ya s'pose he wants with Harry?" Hermione asked as the pair managed to snatch a free table from a gaggle of witches who glared heatedly at the pair before storming off in a huff.
"Dad says he's big gambler—" Ron mumbled around a mouthful of fries, making Hermione scrunch her nose up at his table manners, "—maybe it's something to do with the tournament?"
"What? You think he's betting on Harry?" Hermione munched on the fry she had plucked from the basket.
"It's probably why the goblins are here" Ron shrugged, "Dad says he's terrible at keeping up his end of the deal"
"Fred and George won't be happy then"
"Huh?"
"They gambled with him before the Cup—said Ireland would win—they've been trying been trying to corner him all year, see?" The pair turned just in time to see Harry slip from Bagman's grasp just as Fred and George appeared to hound the man for their winnings. It didn't take long for the man to slip through the door with the horde of goblins trailing angrily after him.
"What did he want?" Ron asked the moment Harry sat down and dug into the remnants of the fries.
"He offered me help with the golden egg" Harry replied around a mouthful of fries.
"He shouldn't be doing that!" Hermione scolded. "He's one of the judges! And anyway, you've already worked it out—haven't you?"
"Er…nearly"
"Well, I don't think Dumbledore would like it if he knew Bagman was trying to persuade you to cheat! I hope he's trying to help Cedric as much!"
"He's not, I asked"
"Who cares if Diggory's getting help?" Interjected Ron.
"Those goblins didn't look very friendly" Hermione switched topics as she sipped at her butterbeer. "What were they doing here?"
"Looking for Crouch, according to Bagman" Replied Harry. "He's still ill—hasn't been into work"
"Maybe Percy's poisoning him?" Ron suggested half-heartedly. "Probably thinks if Crouch snuffs it he'll be Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation"
"Funny, goblins looking for Mr Crouch" Hermione shot Ron a look that screamed 'don't joke about things like that' "They'd normally deal with the Department for the Regulation & Control of Magical Creatures…"
"Crouch can speak loads of different languages though" Harry said. "Maybe they need an interpreter?"
"Yeah, but any old idiot can speak Troll—you just have to grunt and nod in the right places" Said Ron.
"Is that how you beat the one in first year?" Harry teased, grinning cheekily.
"Like you can talk, wand sniffer!"
"Slug shooter!"
"Broom berk!"
"I'm surrounded by idiots" Hermione sighed fondly, watching amusedly as the two flung childish insults back and forth in good fun. "Complete and utter idiots"