Chapter 23
Rubeus Hagrid sniffed back tears even as he filled a second expanding sack with feverdew. He didn't take time to clean his face properly, just wiped the tears on the sleeve of his furry winter coat and kept snipping and bagging leaves. One full bag already stood beside the door, awaiting transport back to Madame Pomfrey's office. Another, two-thirds filled, rested at his feet.
He tried very hard not to note the position of the sun. The lower edge of the pale, gold disk, muted by winter's distance and chill, had already vanished behind the trees, headed for the horizon--and sunset.
"Surely it won't all end like this," he said aloud to himself. "Not after all the boy's been through. They'll get back in time. Professor Snape'll save him just soes he can rub Harry's nose in it every chance he gets. An' Hermione an' Neville. They're Harry's friends. They'll get it done in time."
Turning toward the school, eyes unfocused, he faced the hospital wing and said, "You hang in there, Harry, my lad. You just hang in there. They'll get back in time. You'll see. You just have to do your part and stay with us."
The groundskeeper and Professor of the Care of Magical Creatures class shook himself like a big wet bear.
"Listen at you, Rubeus, mumblin' to yourself. That won't help Harry or get the feverdew to Madame Pomfrey in time to do any good. Back to work with you."
Thus admonished by himself, Rubeus Hagrid cut off more leaves and dropped them into the sack at his feet.
Far away, stone scraped against stone.
Hagrid paused in his task, snips poised to cut. The noise grew, a combination of strained metal, grating stone, and ghostly wails, like souls writhing in torment.
Such sounds were not uncommon around Hogwarts. It was, after all, a haunted castle, every stone saturated with over a thousand years of magic and history. Even so, the world being as it was, better safe than surprised. Only a few years back, the basilisk from the Chamber of Secrets reminded everyone that danger could come from within as easily as from without.
Safety could not be assumed or assured, even inside the bounds of Hogwarts.
Hagrid dropped the snips into one of the planting pots and reached for the pink umbrella hooked on the right side of his wide leather belt. He turned in a full circle, searching for the source of the rapidly increasing noise. He saw nothing through the frost-glazed glass and snow-blanketed grounds beyond. The sounds came from behind him.
The back wall, covered in climbing vines, trembled. Plants bulged forward and down. The unearthly sounds burst into three distinct voices.
The half-giant hopped back and stared slack-jawed as three shapeless forms fell out of the wall and sprawled across the floor, bound up in thick, concealing vines. Hagrid sagged with relief when he heard a gutter curse in a very familiar voice.
"Professor Snape?"
The largest of the three lumps strained against the confining foliage. A dirty, scratched, fire-reddened hand burst through to wave in the free air of the greenhouse.
A voice, muffled and barely discernable, demanded, "Get me out of this confounded greenery!"
His umbrella once more on his belt, Hagrid reached down and pulled away the leafy vines in great clumps. His giant hands soon uncovered all three new arrivals.
"Professor. Hermione. Neville. You're back!"
Rising off the floor with a weary groan, Neville Longbottom rubbed his rear end and muttered to himself, "I should've worn padded trousers. It hurt just as much this time as last!"
Hermione removed a tangle of vines from her shoulder and stepped clear of the remaining plants. "At least this time, you didn't land at Professor Snape's feet."
"No, he didn't," Snape cut in from his place on the floor. His hands rubbed an ache in his right thigh. "He landed on top of me instead."
"Sorry, sir."
"Praise be," Hagrid gasped as he spied the spillage of Dawn's Glory petals from Longbottom's pockets and the bulging sacks beside Professor Snape. "Is tha-it is! Ye found it!"
Snape rose to his feet. He tossed his head to free his vision of greasy hair then popped his robes to clear them of clinging dust, dirt, and greenery.
"How is Potter?" he asked.
Hagrid's joy evaporated in an instant.
"Slippin' fast, I'm afraid. Them Muggle relatives of his certainly aren't helpin' his situation any. You cut it mighty fine."
Hermione grimaced at the protest of sore muscles over her entire body and said, "We have to let the others know we've made it."
"Never you mind abou' tha'!" Hagrid waved them toward the castle. "Just get to brewin' that antidote and leave me to tell the others you're back. It's at most ten minutes to sunset, soes you best move yourselves. Go on then!"
Hagrid watched the tired, aching trio stumble their way out of Greenhouse Three and across the yard to vanish through a shadowed, arched doorway. With a last anxious look at the setting sun, the half-giant closed up the second sack of feverdew, gathered up its mate, and hurried toward the hospital wing as fast as his long stride would carry him.