Chapter 57: Hagrid's Case

I jumped out of bed and gleefully ran straight to the boys' dormitory, intending to cry out "Happy Christmas," but all my joy and goodwill shriveled when Harry and Ron shot me dirty looks

"What's she doing here?" Ron asked distastefully.

"I don't know," Harry replied. "I certainly didn't invite her."

"Go away Hermione, we don't want you here," Ron added.

As I turned to go, my spirits crushed, the room suddenly got darker and Sirius Black materialized at the foot of Ron's bed holding a bloody knife.

"I'm not Harry!" Ron cried, staring fearfully at the knife. "Harry's not here!"

As I saw the knife descending, I tried to run forward to stop it, but I found that I couldn't move.

"No! Ron!" I cried as the knife pierced his heart.

It was then that Black seemed to realize his mistake. He turned around, looking for Harry, and finally found him across the room. Still unable to move, I watched as Black advanced on Harry and plunged the knife into Harry's heart as well.

I woke up screaming, my bed surrounded by my four dorm mates.

"Hermione what's wrong?"

"What happened?"

"Are you alright?"

My dorm mates all shot questions at me in rapid fire and I began to feel dizzy. The dream had been so vivid and was still so fresh in my mind that I had started hyperventilating.

"Calm down Hermione."

"Take a deep breath."

"Did you have a nightmare?"

The room was still spinning and questions were coming at me from all sides. My head and heart were pounding and I was convinced that Black had actually returned to finish off Harry and Ron.

"What were you dreaming about?"

"You really need to calm down."

"Do you need a glass of water?"

I had to get away from the voices. I jumped from my bed and bolted to the bathroom, slamming the door behind me and sliding down onto the floor. I leaned my back against the door and held my head in my hands.

"What a spaz," I heard someone say on the other side of the door.

"Why can't she just act normal for like, one day?"

"How are we supposed to go to the bathroom now?"

I pressed my hands against my ears to tune them out and tried to calm down. Harry and Ron were fine. The castle was protected. The teachers were looking for Black this very moment. They wouldn't let anything bad happen.

I took deep breaths and rocked back and forth against the door until I had my emotions under control. I tentatively pulled my hands away from my ears and pressed one ear up against the door, hoping my dorm mates were sleeping. I didn't hear any noises, so I slowly got to my feet, brushing my pyjamas off as I did so. I didn't get any more sleep that night.

First thing in the morning, I left Gryffindor Tower and went down to see Hagrid. It was almost time for his case. He was to go to the Ministry on Friday and it was already Sunday and I needed to give him some final pointers and such. I knew I probably wouldn't have any time during the week to see him, so I made sure to bring everything he would need with me.

Of course, he had heard all about the break in, and that was the first thing he asked me about when I arrived. I ended up in tears again, angry at myself for having so little control over my emotions these days. It's not like Ron was even injured, so I couldn't understand why I was so torn up about it.

That Saturday was a Hogsmeade weekend, but I elected to stay behind and work on my transfiguration essay. Hagrid's case had been the day before, but I hadn't heard from him yet, and I was waiting for a letter from him.

I was finding homework almost impossible to do because I was so worried about Hagrid and Buckbeak, so when an owl began pecking at the window next to where I was working, I flung my quill away and opened it, untying the scroll from its leg and sending the owl away.

I frantically opened the letter, my stomach curling into a knot. I was nervous to see the contents, but I knew I had to read it sometime.

It wasn't good news. Hagrid had lost the case. He thanked me for my help, and tried to be optimistic, saying that Buckbeak had enjoyed the trip, but I knew he must be a wreck.

I immediately stuffed my things back in my bag and headed down to Hagrid's. He wasn't back yet; he had obviously sent the owl on his way, so I sat on the front steps and waited.

It was only about half an hour before I caught sight of Hagrid and Buckbeak making their way up from the castle gates, and I ran to meet them, wrapping Hagrid in a big hug.

"I'm so sorry Hagrid," I cried. "I should've done more research."

"No, no, it was me," Hagrid replied. I could hear in his voice that he was close to tears. "I got all confused an' lost some o' the notes yeh gave me... An' then..."

"What happened?" I asked.

"Well apparently that anonymous donor from America in the case from 1916 only paid the fees an' had the creature shipped overseas so he could cut 'im open an' study 'im," Hagrid said.

I felt terrible. I had done the research, I had found that case, and I was the one who sent Hagrid off to the Committee for the Disposal of Magical Creatures with a plea that they remember the mercy of the American donor in 1916. It's a miracle they didn't ship Buckbeak off to America to be dissected right away with what I told Hagrid to say.

"Hagrid I'm so so sorry," I repeated. "I had no idea."

"I know you didn't," Hagrid said. "He wouldn't 'ave been advertisin' that 'e was cuttin' open creatures. People wouldn' like that."

"But I still should have looked into it better," I insisted, feeling too horrible about myself to let Hagrid make excuses for me.

"Yeh did the best yeh could, Hermione," Hagrid replied. "It was a really good case. There's nothin' more yeh could 'ave done."

"But – " I started to protest, but Hagrid cut me off.

"It's fine, Hermione," Hagrid said. "If yeh don' mind though, I'd like some time alone with Beaky."

I told Hagrid I understood, and left, slowly returning to the castle. But I felt lost. I felt like I was drifting. Hagrid had lost. My case had lost. Buckbeak was going to be executed. I needed desperately to talk to someone, but I had nobody to talk to. I supposed I could talk to Neville when he returned from Hogsmeade, but I doubted Neville would really understand. Harry and Ron would understand. They knew Hagrid just as well as I did. To Neville, Hagrid was just another teacher. To Harry, Ron, and I, Hagrid was more than that. He was a friend.

And even if Harry and Ron were ignoring me right now, they still deserved to know about Buckbeak, I decided. They deserved to know what had happened at the Ministry, and Hagrid didn't seem in any shape to tell them. I was pretty sure he'd started crying when I left, but I didn't go back in to find out. He'd asked to be alone, so I respected that.

I wasn't sure if Harry and Ron would be back from Hogsmeade yet, but I figured they would return to the common room when they got back, so I headed for Gryffindor Tower. When I arrived in the corridor where the portrait hole resided, I caught sight of Harry and Ron coming down the hallway in the other direction.

Ignoring Ron's rude comments, I gave them the news, passing over the letter Hagrid had sent me as proof. At first, neither of the boys could believe it, but then the truth began to sink in and they grew angry. I tried to explain what would happen next, though I wasn't confident that the appeal would go any better than the case itself.

Then Ron put on a determined expression and insisted that he was going to help this time around.

I couldn't believe my ears. I had given up on Harry and Ron ever wanting to be my friend again, but here was Ron volunteering to work with me. For a split second, I paused to wonder if this would be like the last time, when Harry had tried to patch things up with me, but then Ron had blown up at me about Scabbers.

It was then I realized something important, something crucial that I hadn't realized before. All this time I'd been waiting for an apology from Harry and Ron for what they had said to me, but they were just waiting for the same thing from me. Only I hadn't bothered to consider that with any seriousness because I was so wrapped up in myself and my misery.

Overcome with emotion, I flung my arms around Ron's neck and started sobbing. I apologized, and told him I really was sorry Scabbers was dead, whatever had happened. I couldn't believe that after all this time that was all it took, but apparently it was. Ron muttered something about how the rat had been old, and then I felt his arms move around me and he returned the hug, albeit a little awkwardly.

Through my tears, I smiled and felt something settle in my heart. This was how it was supposed to be. Harry and Ron were my friends, no matter what, and I had deluded myself thinking I could survive without them. I wiped the tears away, and for the first time in months, I didn't feel any more welling up behind my eyes. I knew our friendship wouldn't go back to the way it had been right away, but at least we had made a start. And a start was always good.