Months had passed in the Hogwarts castle and soon snow began whipping at the rock walls, trying to break in the castle and blow first and second years off their feet as they traveled from class to class outside. Luckily, the only classes the four Gryffindors' had out in the cold were Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures.
The only reason any of them even continued the class with Hagrid was so they wouldn't let him down; this way he would have at least some support when he told the students what they would be taking care of one morning as they stood shivering ankle-deep in snow. "A what!" cried Malfoy in disbelief. "Call 'um Runespoor." Gleamed Hagrid cheerfully as he clasped his hands together. "Th're, well…'ermione, can you say wut they ar'?" asked Hagrid with a little more than a hint of desperation. Apparently he had simply bought the snake-like creatures from someone, illegally perhaps, without bothering to find out anything else about them.
"The Runespoor is a three-headed serpent that commonly reaches a length of six or seven feet. Each head has a different purpose. The left is the planner, deciding what it will do. The middle is a dreamer, often lost in it's thoughts for days at a time, and the last head is the critic, evaluation the other three heads. Because of this position, it is quite common to see a Runespoor without the last head as it may anger the other two who will bite it off." Recited Hermione who was trying her best to sound exactly like a textbook, and doing a pretty good job of it.
"Aw'right, 50 points to Gryffindor. Now, wut we've got 'ere is a couple o' eggs from a sack. We'll be takin' car o' 'em as a…project." And with that Hagrid got the class in to groups of five to each egg. The eggs themselves were of a tan-ish, almost brown like color with a hint of green ducked down beneath the layers of encrusted emerald and auburn swirls.
Harry, Ron, Hermione, Deliverance, and a fifth year they didn't know but whose name was Cormell Jackins, were teamed up at a table in the back which was, unfortunately, shared with Malfoy and his gang. "This is pathetic. Wait till my father hears abut this. These things are probably poisonous or vicious or something that will take an arm or a leg," he sneered, but Pansy Parkinson simply brushed some of his sleek blonde hair of his face and squealed "You are so cute when you're angry." This seemed to distract the Slytherin momentarily while the four friends leaned closer to talk in secret, leaving poor Cormell alone with the egg they were supposed to be trying to make a bed for.
The same thought was one each of their minds, but it was Ron who brought it up first. "Do you think they are poisonous, vicious, or something that will take an arm or a leg?" he asked, noticibly anxious about Hagrids choice in projects. "I mean, Hagrid has a very…unique taste for creatures. The last ones have kind of been-".
"A complete disaster," finished Harry for him. He could remember all to well the Blast-Ended Skrewts that he had been attacked by in the maze of the Triwizard Tournament, or the Hippogriff that did attack Malfoy in their third year, but wasn't vicious in the least. Thoughts of Buckbeak soon led to thoughts of Harry's godfather, living somewhere far away and hiding from the ministry.
This once again brought up a new question entirely different from the Runespoors, yet somehow oddly connected. Did the trio trust Deliverance enough to tell her about Sirius? They didn't know much about her, so it was difficult to say if she would go running off to Fudge with the information. Naturally, Harry's heart said they should, and yet his mind still wanted to get to know her a little more until he knew it was safe.
After all, it was only a couple weeks into the school year, and they weren't in any type of rush. With reluctance, Harry pulled himself back into the conversation that was happening before him; whether or not Hagrid would be arrested for having these things around. "Oh, I remember reading something once, about them," cried Hermione impatiently as she struggled to figure out what she had read.
"Really?" Ron asked with a sarcastic look of surprise painted on his face, "I couldn't tell. You know that whole thing you said on what Runspoors are; you didn't just make it up off the top of your head?" This received a shot of annoyance look from Hermione, but she continued on thinking as if it hadn't bothered her. Deliverance spook up.
"I hate to say it, but I'm pretty sure they aren't exactly household pets. They might not kill you, but I think you may need a license to handle them safely. Sorry," she added sincerely. "It's all right," sighed Hermione. Her head shrunk in her hands, but not in an act of concentration. Merely in an act of understanding and despair. This wasn't a good sign, for it told the others that what Deliverance said about the Runspoors was right; they were probably not safe to handle, with them being only teenagers. For a couple moments before the bell rangthe four friends simply sat, each thinking about their own problems they had to face.