Chapter Forty-Two – Talons and Twigs
They received their class schedules the following morning. Harry was disappointed to see that the class that would separate him from his two friends was the first on his itinerary. He thought he had prepared himself for the inevitable moment, but he hadn't expected it to arrive so soon.
Blaise read Harry's list over his shoulder and bemoaned his decision. "Wand-Making? What do you want to take a class like that for? Thinking of an apprenticeship with Ollivander?"
"I thought it would be interesting to know how it all works," Harry replied, "I never said I wanted to be a wand-maker."
Harry hadn't mentioned it to either of his friends, but he had an ulterior motive for taking the class. His wand contained a phoenix feather core. When the wand chose him, Mr. Ollivander told Harry something he would never forget. The phoenix who gave a feather for his wand gave only one other, and the man who possessed that wand used it to murder Harry's parents.
After three encounters with Lord Voldemort, in one grotesque form or another, Harry no longer believed their twin cores were a coincidence. He hoped by taking a class on the art of wand-making, he would find answers.
"Anything would be more interesting than Muggle Studies," said Millie, coming to Harry's defense.
"Just you wait," Blaise countered, "Give it a few years, and all wizards will be taking Muggle Studies. It'll be required, just like Herbology. Mum says muggle technology is the way of the future. Have you ever heard of a computer?"
Millie rolled her eyes and consulted her own course list.
"Looks like I'll be taking Ancient Runes first thing," she commented.
Blaise groaned in response. "And you think Muggle Studies sounds boring!"
Millie shrugged, "It's not just reading old books, you know. There's sigils, and I'll learn to draw protective wards. Same as the ones used around your house, Blaise."
"Enjoy it while you can." Blaise said with a smirk, "Granger's taking Ancient Runes as well. Shall I tell her you'd love to form a little study group?"
"That can't be right," Harry said, ignoring Millie as she brandished her oatmeal-covered spoon at Blaise, "Hermione already mentioned taking Divination, Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy, and Muggle Studies. She can't be taking five electives, can she?"
Blaise shrugged, clearing away the spots of oatmeal splattered over his robes with a wave of his wand and a muttered spell. "She's an overachiever."
The question of how Hermione balanced her course schedule would remain unanswered for the moment. Blaise and Harry had to hurry off to their respective classes, while Millie had the first period free. Harry couldn't regret not taking Muggle Studies with Blaise. Growing up with the Dursleys had given him enough education on that subject to last a lifetime. But as Millie parted ways with him, making her way outdoors to enjoy some fresh air, Harry found himself regretting that he hadn't signed up for Ancient Runes.
The class on Wand-Making was held in the astronomy tower, on one of the lower floors. Harry made this way there slowly, wondering all the while who else had signed up for the subject. He was pleasantly surprised when he stepped across the threshold and found a warm classroom, bathed in sunlight from the tall windows. It smelled faintly of sawdust, with the occasional whiff of cedar or pine.
Harry cast his eyes around the few students who had already gathered, and breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted Hermione's bushy hair. Predictably, she had a selected a seat at the front of the class. Harry quickly took the open seat next to her, and then glanced at the other students.
Apparently, Wand-Making was not a popular course. Unlike Potions or Herbology, which were large classes combing the students of two houses at a time, Wand-Making brought students from all four houses in one small room. Harry and Hermione were the only representatives of their respective houses, while the remaining students had formed pairs of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.
Harry waited for more students to arrive, but as the minutes ticked by and the start of class drew near, Harry realized no one else was coming. Himself included, there were only six students.
A light step from the corridor announced the arrival of their professor. Harry turned, surprised again by the aspect of a professor he had never seen before. She was old. Judging by the wrinkles on her face, she had to be nearly as old as Dumbledore himself. But unlike the headmaster, the wand-making professor was short. Harry guessed if he were to stand, the top of her head would fall just below his chin.
The professor's dark eyes swept over the small cluster of students, peering at them all through a pair of gold-framed glasses. She gave a curt nod of satisfaction and said, "Good turn out, this year."
Though old and small, her voice was loud and clear. She marched down the middle of the class, back straight and long braided hair swinging behind her, barking orders at the students as she went.
"Might as well push those desks aside and bring your chairs close. Hurry up, now. Form a circle. Get in close. I'm over a hundred years old, you know. I'll need all the help I can get to see the lot of you."
Harry followed her instruction and drew his chair in a circle with the others, wondering all the while if the professor was serious about her age.
One of the Hufflepuff students thought to grab a chair for the professor. She smiled at him, patted his cheek, and called him a brown-noser before accepting the chair.
"Well, what are you all waiting for? Get out your wands!"
The students immediately complied, some with half-smiles on their lips as they passed their wands to the professor for her inspection.
"I'm Professor Nobilis," she said, finally introducing herself as he accepted each wand in turn, "I am in charge of teaching you both the theory of wand use and its practical construction. You have all come with Ollivander's work, I see?"
There wasn't a note of surprise in Professor Nobilis' voice, and no one responded to the rhetorical question. She was busy running her hands over Hermione's wand, when she promptly declared, "Firm, but not unyielding. You have a bit of a stubborn streak, I take it? And not afraid to break the rules, if the occasion calls for it. What is the core?"
Hermione, startled by the implication that she wasn't the straight-laced rule follower she took pride in, nervously stammered out, "D-Dragon heartstring, ma'am."
"You'll do well in this class, I think. It's Miss Granger, isn't it?"
Hermione nodded, her embarrassment from a moment ago disappearing in his pleasure at the teacher's compliment.
Professor Nobilis observed her blush without a smile and added, "Yes, you'll do fine, but I would caution you not to overexert yourself."
She ignored the confused expression on Hermione's face as she turned to accept Harry's wand.
"Holly, if I'm not mistaken," Professor Nobilis declared instantly.
"Yes, ma'am, and the core is..."
"Phoenix feather," interrupted the professor. The students responded with impressed whispers, eliciting the first smile Professor Nobilis "Ollivander told me the first time you entered his shop, Mr. Potter."
She made similar comments to the rest of the students, correctly identifying the wood types of each wand, and making statements about the personalities of their owners to great approval from the class. Everyone liked hearing about themselves, and Professor Nobilis had their full attention when the short demonstration was complete.
"You can stop looking so impressed," Professor Nobilis said in response to their grins, "Anyone with a textbook on wands could tell you the same things. I hope to teach you a bit more. By the end of term, you will have each constructed your own wand. Points will be awarded based on whether your creation can actually fire a spell or two. Today, your task is simply to select a branch you feel will suit you."
The students looked at one another in confusion, until the professor gestured with an open palm, and a box containing assorted twigs floated forward. The box fell with a soft plonk on the floor in the middle of their circle, and Harry stared at the contents with some reservations. The twigs looked as if they had been collected straight from a forest floor. They were all still covered in bark, and a few still had leaves and other bits branching off. The students quickly fell on the box, picking through the contents in search of one that looked the most straight. Harry had hoped for a holly branch, like that of his own wand, but it was impossible to tell one sort of twig from another. He settled for a springy branch that seemed easy to work with, and didn't have too many leaves attached.
The professor approved of their choices and presented their first assignment. They were to write an essay on their branch of choice, due by the next class. She gave them a head start by assisting them with identification, and it wasn't long before class was dismissed. It was hard to be assigned an essay on the very first day, but Harry decided that he liked the professor, and was interested to see if he would really be able to make a functional wand.
Gathering up his book-bag and supplies, Harry turned to ask Hermione's opinion about the assignment. To his susprise, she was already gone. He figured she must have hurried off to her next class, as she was taking so many, and decided he could ask her about doing their research together at a later time.
His next class was Transfiguration. Harry was pleased to reunite with Blaise and Millie just outside the classroom doors, and was eager to tell them about his first class, but he had to check his enthusiasm when he noticed the look of irritation on Blaise's face.
"How was Muggle Studies?" he asked instead.
"Terrible," said Blaise. He proceeded to describe the class. Like Harry's wand class, Muggle Studies was not a popular subject. From Blaise's description, it sounded as if he was the only Slytherin student enrolled in the subject with students from the other three houses.
"Granger was the worst," Blaise said, "She kept correcting Professor Burbage. I kept having to scratch out whole lines of notes!"
Harry was confused, "Granger, you said? But Hermione couldn't have been in class with you. She was in Wand-Making with me!"
Blaise rolled his eyes, "I think I would recognize Granger's pushy, know-it-all attitude anywhere, Harry."
"Fine, but she was in my class, too. How did she manage to be in two places at once?"
The looked to Millie for her suggestion, but as they were already taking their seats to begin Transfiguration, the subject had to be dropped again.
Professor McGonagall was notoriously strict, and did not tolerate tardy students. It was imperative that they be in their seats, wands and books ready, before the start of every class. Today felt different, and it soon became clear exactly why. The students all filed in to class, but their professor was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a tabby cat with rectangular marking around its eyes sat upon the teacher's desk, watching them enter with a stern expression that was strangely familiar to Harry. A few of the students, thinking themselves safe, began to whisper and giggle to one another when the professor still failed to appear, before the cat suddenly leapt from the desk, transforming mid-flight into Professor McGonagall herself. With her robes swirling around her, she was an impressive sight, indeed. The whispers were cut short as the Slytherin students were momentarily stunnded, then they erupted into enthusiastic applause.
Professor McGonagall held her hand up for silence, but she had a self-satisfied smirk on her face, betraying her own pleasure at their response.
"Never fails to impress my third-year students," she said once they had settled down, "And for good reason. Becoming an animagus is an extremely difficult process. If successfully completed, a witch or wizard can transform into an animal at will, without the need of a wand, spell or potion."
She went on to explain the difference between animagi and other shapeshifters, though she was curiously close-lipped about the exact process needed to become one. Blaise kept raising his hand, a flurry of questions as he strove to discover the details.
"It is not only very difficult to become an animagus," Professor McGonagall said through pursed lips as once again she saw Blaise's hand shoot into the air, "But it is also strictly regulated. All animagi must register with the Ministry. I'm sure you can imagine the kind of trouble a person could get into if allowed to transform into an animal unchecked."
As usual, her eyes seemed to settle on Harry and his friends.
She wasn't wrong to suspect them. Blaise was full of ideas as they left the classroom with orders to complete an assignment on the complicated ritual needed to become an animagus.
"It would be so cool, wouldn't it? What sort of animal do you think you'd become? We should try it. She's practically daring us to do it, giving us this assignment. It's like she's giving us step-by-step instructions!"
"She said it would be difficult, even if we knew the process," said Millie.
"More difficult than getting past a three-headed dog?" Blaise asked, "Or Devil's Snare? Or fighting off a basilisk?"
"You didn't do that last one," Millie reminded him. "Harry did that by himself."
Blaise responded by wrapping one of his arms around Harry's shoulders and ruffling his already disheveled hair. "Then it's a good thing he's our friend, isn't it? What do you think, Harry?"
"It would be cool to see what we'd turn into," said Harry, already imagining himself an owl, like Hedwig, flying through the air with no need for a broomstick.
Care of Magical Creatures was to be held outdoors with the Gryffindors. Harry was pleased to see Hermione and Neville among his classmates, though it came as a shock to see Ron Weasley join them. Harry carefully avoided meeting his gaze, not wanting to start a fight on Hagrid's first day at work. Instead, Harry kept his eyes on Hermione. There was no time to question her with Neville and the other Gryffindor students loitering around, but he was still curious about how she was splitting her time. If she could be in two places at once, then could another Hermione be sitting in Arithmancy at that very moment? The question made his head spin, and he tried not to think about her as Hagrid stepped out of his hut.
Hagrid began the class nervously, but it was hard for him to contain his excitement. He called to the students milling near his home, directing them to follow him closer to the forest surrounding the school. Harry exchanged a wary glance with Blaise and Millie, worried lest Hagrid lead the students into the Forbidden Forest. But Hagrid had more sense than Harry gave him credit for, and he stayed clear of the forest's borders, leading them to a sort of paddock beyond a hill. Seeing the creatures held inside the fence, the students came to a stop and gasped.
They were some of the strangest creatures Harry had ever seen. Standing on four legs, their hindquarters resembled those of horses, but their forefeet were like talons, not hooves, and their heads were those of giant eagles, all golden-eyes and pointed beaks.
"What are they?" a Gryffindor girl shouted in alarm.
"Those are Hippogriffs!" Hermione said with a cry of delight, "Oh, Hagrid, they're beautiful! Where did you get them?"
"That's Professor Hagrid, to you, Granger," Blaise said tauntingly. Normally, Harry would have scolded him for teasing his Gryffindor friend, but he could see Hagrid's face flush with pleasure when he heard Blaise refer to him as professor.
"You're very correct, Miss Granger," Hagrid went on to explain in his most pedantic voice, "These're Hippogriffs. Very strong creatures, and gentle as you'd like, but temperamental. They have a strong sense of respect, an' if you offend one... Well, let's just say they won' give you a chance ter do it again! Now then, for a demonstration..."
Hagrid walked them through the process of introducing oneself to a Hippogriff. They watched him carefully as he entered the paddock and brought forward a Hippogriff with the dappled grey body of a horse, and the smokey feathers of a peregrine falcon.
"This here's Buckbeak," Hagrid said with obvious fondness, "'E's one o' the youngest o' the flock, not quite as strong, but quick ter anger. Say 'ello, Buckbeak."
Buckbeak was already staring down at the group of frightened third-years from his considerable height, but after Hagrid spoke to him, he gave a sharp cry, like that of an eagle, in welcome. Hagrid tossed him a dead ferret that he had hanging from his belt as a prize for his good behavior, then the demonstration began.
After Buckbeak had swallowed his ferret, hardly bothering to tear it apart with his razor-sharp beak, he turned his face back toward Hagrid, as if expecting more. Hagrid responded by offering the hippogriff a deep bow, explaining as he did so that this was the customary greeting. After a tense moment of silence, Buckbeak straightened one of his fore-claws, bending the other as he lowered his head in a similar salute. Hagrid straightened up again and tossed Buckbeak another dead ferret while the other hippogriffs looked on enviously.
"And it's as simple as that!" Hagrid said. A small smattering of applause broke out, but the students seemed timid, as if afraid the loud noise might upset the temperamental creature.
"So, who wants ter be the firs' ter give it a go?" Hagrid asked.
Harry was considering whether his affection for Hagrid overcame the caution he felt at approaching such a large animal, when he felt a pressure between his shoulder blades. Blaise had shoved Harry forward, snickering as he did so, and the sudden movement caught Hagrid's eye.
"Harry!" Hagrid said, forgetting himself for a moment and calling Harry by his first name, "Excellent. Thank you fer volunteering."
He turned his back to grab a few more dead ferrets, and Harry glanced over his shoulder to glare at Blase. His so-called friend continued to snicker until Millie slugged him in the shoulder on Harry's behalf, who nodded to her in approval.
"Now then, Harry. It's very simple, You jus' have to approach Buckbeak... Not too close now! That's it... Now bow, nice and low."
Harry was reluctant to take his eyes off the hippogriff's sharp beak, in case it decided to attack, but he followed Hagrid's instructions exactly, and lowered his eyes to the ground as he made his bow, so anxious to do this correctly that he was bent nearly double.
Buckbeak made a slight cluck, then spread his wide wings, fanning them out so Harry was nearly toppled by the strong gust of wind. He heard one of the girls scream, and Hagrid called softly, "Harry! Harry a few steps back now, quickly!"
Harry could see Buckbeak's claws raking the dirt in front of him. He didn't need Hagrid's warning to tell him he'd gotten too close. Still doubled over, Harry scuttled a few feet back, chancing a glance at the hippogriff to see how he would react.
Buckbeak folded his wings close to his body again, clucked once more, and to Harry's immense relief, gracefully bowed his head toward him.
The class broke into applause again, more enthusiastic this time, as their confidence grew at seeing one of their own succeed where they had been certain of catastrophic failure. Harry, enjoying the attention for once, turned to the class and made a theatrical bow. Buckbeak, observing this behavior and mistaking its intent, turned toward the class and bowed as well, earning Harry several shouts of laughter from the classmates.
It was a better performance than Hagrid could have asked for during his first lesson, and he tossed Buckbeak another ferret to praise him for a job well-done.
"Excellent, Harry," he said. Harry feared Hagrid was about to offer him a dead ferret as well, not in praise, but in the hopes that he would attempt to feed the hippogriff himself. Instead, Hagrid surpassed even Harry's expectations when he said, "I reckon he'll let you ride him now."
"What? Hagrid... wait!"
But Hagrid had already plucked Harry off the ground as if he weighed nothing. In Harry's opinion, he seemed to have abandoned all caution, and he placed Harry on the back of the hippogriff without further warning.
"Knees behind the wing joint there. Try not to pull out any feathers. And off you go!" Hagrid cried, giving Buckbeak a light smack on his flank. Buckbeak issued another piercing cry, unfurled his great wings, and took off at a run.
Harry gasped as he felt the creature's feet leave the ground. Terrified of falling, but equally scared of tearing out the creatures feathers and causing it to send him plummeting to his death, Harry had no choice but to lean forward as far as he could, and wrap his arms about the creatures long neck.
They climbed higher and higher, where the air turned cold but not unpleasantly so. Then Buckbeak seemed to level off, and the uncomfortable, jolting feeling of his wings pumping up and down subsided as he hit a current of air, and glided easily through the low-lying clouds around the castle.
It was such a gentle movement, Harry finally felt a little calm, or perhaps he was just light-headed from the altitude. He felt as if they were higher than he'd ever dared to fly on a broomstick. He straightened up slightly, enjoying the wind that whipped around his hair. Laughing, he opened his arms wide and enjoyed the feeling of flying. Buckbeak answered his laughter with another cry, then angled them downward, back toward Hagrid's cabin, where Harry could see his classmates clustered close together like a small group of black ants, pointing up at him as they dove down.
Harry was certain that he must have looked a mess, all windswept with his hair and robes out of place, but he didn't much care. He couldn't stop grinning as Buckbeak landed once again and Hagrid helped him down from his back.
"How am I doin' my firs' day?" Hagrid asked in an undertone.
Harry, still breathless from the flight, but obviously elated, gripped one of Hagrid's massive hands in both of his own and pumped it up and down, hoping to convey his congratulations on an excellent lesson.
Hagrid smiled this thanks, but the lesson wasn't over yet. He turned to the class, asking if anyone else wanted to have a go at meeting a hippogriff. Every student's hand shot into the air, and Hagrid, beaming, opened the paddock gate and ushered everyone inside.
"Now, I want everyone to pair off and share a hippogriff. One to spot and one to do the introduction. Spotters, tell your partner if you start to notice anything odd. Best to back off and try again later if the beast seems angry. You can do your bows, and give 'em a pet if they accept you. But I don't want to see any of you attempt to climb one unless I am there to supervise. Understand?"
The class chorused their understanding and immediately divided into pairs. Harry joined Blaise and Millie, who had settled on a jet-black hippogriff, whose head seemed more that of a crow than an eagle.
"I can't believe he let you fly it," Blaise said as he watched Millie approach the hippogriff, "If I'd known, I would have volunteered myself."
"You would hate it," Harry said teasingly, "Your robes might get messed up. Just look at my hair!"
"You don't seem any different than usual," Blaise remarked teasingly.
Millie's hippogriff gave her no trouble, and after giving him an affectionate pat on the beak, it was Blaise's turn. Before he could even approach with a bow, he froze at the sight of a commotion, not too far from where they were standing.
"Don't be such a coward, Crabbe," Malfoy scolded loudly. "Just go and touch the stupid thing. If Potter can fly it around the whole school, it can't be as dangerous as the big oaf claims."
Harry's blood boiled at the sound of Draco's familiar drawl. He'd been lucky so far. After the train incident, Draco hadn't said a word to Harry, despite their sharing a dorm. Harry assumed Draco was embarrassed from being just as frightened of the Dementor as the rest of them, but it was clear he resented the attention and praise Harry got from riding the hippogriff. While Crabbe looked on densely, Draco made his way recklessly toward their hippogriff.
They had selected Buckbeak, no doubt assuming that the creature Harry had ridden would be a safe bet, seeing as he'd been tame before. But Draco was not following Hagrid's instructions. Although he made the requisite bow and been accepted by the hippogriff, he wasted no time in trying to climb on top.
Buckbeak screamed a high-pitched cry to signal his displeasure, and unfurling his great wings, hurled Draco to the ground. Hagrid, assisting Hermione and Neville with their bay-colored hippogriff not far away, heard the tumult and came running. But the damage had already been done. Buckbeak was in a rage, and rearing up on his hind legs, wings stretched to their full width, he brought his sharp talons down on the arms Draco had raised to defend himself.
Harry was certain Draco would have been done in by one slash of that sharp beak, had not Hagrid intervened just in time. He threw himself between the raging hippogriff and the slight form of the boy on the ground, calling for Buckbeak to calm down, and when that failed, hurling another dead ferret over the hippogriff's head to catch his attention and draw him away from the students.
Buckbeak, smelling the blood and flesh of the delicious treat, happily abandoned his threatening actions and pranced happily after the gift. Hagrid turned to Draco, his face pale and clearly worried, but Draco hastily pulled his arm away from his inspection.
"Don't touch me, you giant idiot! Your beast has broken my arm!"
"Your arm isn't broken, Draco, it's barely scratched," Harry said, running forward to defend Hagrid and see how far the damage had gone.
Neither Harry nor Draco were entirely truthful. The sleeves of Draco's robes had been completely ripped open, and Harry thought he saw a few lurid red gashes on the white flesh beneath. He was bleeding, that was certain, but Harry did not feel sorry for him. He'd brought it on himself.
"He needs to go to the hosptial wing, Hagrid," Blaise said.
Hagrid nodded, and ignoring Draco's cries of protest, he hoisted him off the ground and declared that he would be taking Draco back to the castle himself.
That was the end of their class that day. Hagrid entrusted Harry with closing the paddock once the class had left, and so he heard every whisper of the students as they passed by. Some, like Hermione and Neville, placed the blame on Draco, and rightly so. But others, including Crabbe and Goyle, Draco's closest friends, swore up and down that the beast was mad, and that Draco had only been following "the big idiot's" instructions.
"If you ask me, that Malfoy had it coming to him," Harry heard Ron Weasley saying to his friend, a Gryffindor boy named Seamus.
He probably assumed that Draco was among Harry's friends, since they were in the same house, as he shouted his comment loud enough for Harry to hear him. But Harry was far from being insulted.
"For once, you and I agree on something, Weasley," Harry called in response.
Ron pretended he hadn't heard him, and continued to berate Draco for likely getting a teacher sacked on his first day, all because he was a reckless fool.
"You don't really think they'll sack Hagrid, do you?" Millie asked as they filed indoors again.
But Harry wasn't sure. Mr. Malfoy was not going to be happy about the hippogriff attack. All they could do now was wait and see.