First Classes

The next morning, as Harry was entering the Great Hall for breakfast and to get their schedules, the first thing he saw was Malfoy, who was regaling a group of his fellow Slytherins with a funny story. When he saw Harry, he did an exaggerated impression of a swooning fit to gales of laughter.

"Ignore it", Hermione, who was right behind Harry, advised. "It's not worth it", to preempt any altercations.

"Potter!", Pansy Parkinson called from the Slytherin table, "the dementors are coming for you! WOOOOOOOOOO!

Harry dropped into a spot next to George.

"Malfoy", Ron said.

Draco was doing another fainting impression.

"Don't let that git get to you", George said. "He wasn't so cocky when the dementor was down by our carriage…"

"… Came into our compartment", Fred continued the story, "I doubt he knew whose compartment he barged into. Looked like he was gonna wet himself. Remember, George?"

"That's hard to forget. In all fairness, I wasn't feeling very happy about it either. Nasty things…"

"Freeze your insides, don't they?"

"Yeah, but you didn't pass out?", Harry said.

"Forget about it", George said with encouragement. "Dad had to visit Azkaban, remember?"

"He came home all weak and shaky and swore he wasn't ever going back there. Said it was the worst place he'd ever been. The dementors suck all the happiness out of a place. Most of the inmates eventually are driven insane", Fred agreed.

"We'll see how happy Malfoy is after our first game. Gryffindor v. Slytherin: the first game to kick off the season".

Malfoy didn't come off so well the last time Harry and Draco faced off across the Quiddich pitch. The thought improved his mood as he helped himself to sausage and fried tomatoes.

Professor McGonagall came by the table to hand out their schedules.

"Divination, wonder what Trelawney's like?", Ron asked. Then he noticed: "McGonagall made a mistake? She forgot your schedule", he said to Ginny.

"No she didn't. I'm not taking classes just yet".

"How d'you manage that?", he asked with eager anticipation. Going to school without taking any classes sounded like a dream come true.

"I'm testing out", Ginny replied. "I worked it out with McGonagall".

"Testing out? Of what?!"

"Second year. If I pass the written exams and the Practicals, I can skip ahead a year. Then I can go to class with you guys! Isn't that great, Harry?"

"Congratulations, Ginny. Hope you pass". He really didn't like the idea of sharing classes with a star struck fangurl.

"Why would you do that?", Ron asked. The idea that anyone would take on the extra academic load was a completely foreign concept.

"Because I can. This way, I get a jump ahead when the time comes for careers".

Hagrid entered the Great Hall, absent-mindedly swinging a dead polecat.

"Tell me he isn't gonna eat that in front of us?", Daphne Greengrass asked in a whisper.

"Thanks, Daff, you just ruined my appetite", Pansy complained.

As he passed the Gryffindor table: "All rye?", he asked. "Y'all be in my furss ever class. Rye after lunch. Been up since five plannin' yer lessin. Got somet'ing special fer ye… Hope it's OK… Me… a p'fesser… Hones'ly…"

He continued to the staff table, still swinging the polecat.

"Wonder what he's got ready?", Ron asked, with unease. Knowing Hagrid, that could mean anything.

The Hall was emptying as students filed off to their first classes.

"Better get going", Hermione announced, "Divination's in the North Tower…"

They'd never been to the North Tower, and the walk through the castle was a long one. Two years at Hogwarts wasn't sufficient to teach them everything about the castle.

"There… has… got… to… be… a… better way...", Ron was complaining as they climbed the seventh long staircase. They stepped onto a landing with nothing but a painting of a grassy field hanging on the wall.

"I think it's this way?", Hermione pointed down a hallway.

"Can't be", Ron said, "that's south".

A fat, gray pony wondered into the scene before them. At Hogwarts, the paintings were "alive", the subjects of paintings wandered from one frame to another. They spoke; they answered questions about the best way to get to classes. They really weren't conscious, more like a Turing test. This also meant that, at Hogwarts, the walls had eyes and ears. If you valued your privacy, you learned to keep your mouth shut around paintings. There was a credible rumour that all that was seen and heard was reported straight to Dumbledore.

A short, fat knight in shining armour trailed behind the pony. From the grass stains on his knees, it looked like he'd fallen off.

"Excuse me", Harry asked the painting.

"What's that!", the knight called out. "What villains are these who dare to trespass on my private lands! Draw! Draw, I say, knaves and brigands!"

The knight drew a large, heavy sword and began to swing it with vigor. It was too long, too heavy, for him and soon he was flat on his face.

Harry drew closer: "You OK?", he asked, concerned.

"Back! Back you scurvy curr! You mangy dog!"

The knight tried standing, but couldn't manage it, so he used his sword as a walking stick, to help himself up, but that drove the point into the ground. He tried, but failed, to retrieve the sword.

"We're trying to find the Divination classroom".

"A quest!", the knight called out as he tried to mount his pony, but he wasn't having any success.

"Never mind! On foot, then! On! On! We shall succeed or perish nobly in the attempt, gentlemen, fair lady!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed the sound of the clatter of the armour from one painting to another. He ran through a painting of ladies in crinoline: "Be of stout heart, the worst is yet to come!", he said to them. They followed up a narrow spiral staircase. The knight announced:

"We have arrived", he called out from a painting of a group of evil-looking monks. "If ever you have need of a noble heart and steely sinew Sir Cadogan is at your service, fine gentlemen and fair lady!"

He took off, probably to recover his sword and pony. They followed the sound of voices up another short flight of stairs, and they arrived with the rest of the class.

"Da Fuck!", Ron announced. They were in a circular landing of the North Tower, but no classroom.

"Up there, Ron". Hermione pointed up to a circular hatch in the ceiling with a brass plaque; "Divination, Prof Trelawney".

"How are we supposed to get up there?", Harry asked.

As if in answer to his question, the hatch opened and a silver ladder came down right at Harry's feet. He climbed, being the closest, and first into the classroom.

The classroom didn't look like a classroom, but more like a tea room. There were some 20 small tables packed into the space, each with chairs or fat little poufs. The shelves along the wall held the stubs of used candles, dusty tomes, packs of playing cards, crystal balls of varying size, and lots of tea cups and saucers. The room was stifling hot, due to the fire that gave off overwhelming scent of some incense or perfume. The room dark as the curtains were closed tightly, the numerous lamps draped with scarlet scarves. Harry, Ron, and Hermione claimed one of the small tables.

"OK, so where is she?", Ron asked.

Sybil Trelawney swept in from an adjoining office. She was very thin, and looked like a Gypsy fortune teller from a carnival She wore a gausy shawl that glittered with rhine stones. Numerous necklaces around her scrawny neck; her arms covered with bracelets and bangles, rings on her fingers. The lenses of her glasses so thick that they magnified her eyes to a disproportionate size. Harry recognized her from the prophecy sphere he broke.

"Welcome Children, sit and make yourselves comfortable", she began her introduction. "It's so nice to see all of you here in the physical world. I am Professor Sybil Trelawney. Most of you probably haven't seen me as I find that the hustle and bustle of the castle clouds my Inner Eye.

"You have elected to take Divination, one of the most challenging aspects of magick. If you find you do not have the Sight, there is very little I will be able to teach you. Book learning is of little value in this class. There are a great many wizards who are quite adept with wand magick that makes bangs, makes things disappear and foul smells. However, they lack the ability to lift the veil of the future. The Sight is a rare gift.

"You there", she pointed at Neville, "Mr…"

"Longbottom, Neville Longbottom", she startled him to nearly fall off his pouf.

"Is your grandmother well?"

"Yeah, so far as I know".

"I wouldn't be too sure of that, My Dear", Trelawney warned in that Gypsy fortune teller voice that was meant to sound "mystical", but obviously fake. Neville gulped.

"Our first module will be on the art of reading the tea leaves. Next, we will move onto palmistry. Class will be interrupted this February when a flu bug circulates through the castle, and I will lose my voice…

"You there!", she pointed at Parvati Patel, "beware of a red-haired man, My Dear".

She was sitting just ahead of Ron, turned to give him a look, and edged her chair away from him.

"In the second term, we will move onto the study of fire omens and the crystal ball. Unfortunately, some time around Easter, one of you will be leaving us forever".

There was a tense silence, but Trelawney seemed unaware of it.

"Shall we begin? I wonder, Dear, if you could pass me the large silver tea pot?", she said to Lavender Brown, who was closest. She went to fetch it, and to make her way to Trelawney's desk.

"Thank you, My Dear. By the way, that thing you are dreading: it will happen Friday, October 15.

"Now, pair off and pick a tea cup and saucer, then I will fill your cups. Drink until only the dregs remain. After you have finished your tea, hold the cup in your left hand, swirl it three times, then place the cup upside down on your saucer. Once all the tea has drained, exchange cups with your partner. You will interpret the patterns based on the illustrations on pages five and six of Unfogging the Future".

She caught Neville by the arm as he was passing: "My Dear, after you've broken your first cup, would you please use one of the blue patterned ones? I'm rather fond of the pink ones".

No sooner had Neville reached the shelf with the tea cups there was the tinkling of breaking china. Trelawney was right there, with dustpan and brush.

"One of the blue ones, if you please".

He selected a blue one.

"Thanks", she said.

Harry and Ron paired up, taking their filled cups to the table. It was going to take awhile since the tea was uncomfortably hot to drink at once. Finally, Harry had finished off as much tea as he could without getting the gritty stuff. He swirled three times, drained the cup, and traded cups with Ron. They had their books open.

"So what do you see?", Ron asked.

"A bunch of soggy tea leaves", he said. The heavy perfumed atmosphere was making it difficult to concentrate.

"Open your minds as well as your eyes!", Trelawney encouraged. "Look beyond the mundane!"

"Right. You have a crooked cross…"

He looked up the closest symbol from Unfogging the Future: "That means great suffering and tribulations… Sorry 'bout that… Hang on… there's also something that looks like a rising sun… That means happiness coming your way… So you're gonna suffer and be happy about it".

"I think you need to have your Inner Eye examined", Ron said.

"So how about mine?", Harry asked.

"There's a blob like a bowler hat… So that means you're taking over from Fudge? But if you turn it this way, it looks more like an acorn…", Ron consulted his book, "It says here that you're coming into a windfall. Good: maybe you can lend me some when you get that gold.

"There's something else that looks like an animal… maybe a hippo, if that's its head… No, more like a lamb…"

Trelawney whirled around when Harry gave a snort of laughter.

"Let me see that, My Dear", she said as she took Harry's cup from Ron's hand. She was rotating it to the left.

"The falcon: My Dear, you have a deadly enemy…"

"Everyone knows that", Hermione said, "hardly a prediction"

Trelawney paused to give her the stink eye.

"Well, they do! Everyone knows about Harry and Whatshisname".

Harry and Ron, especially Ron, were surprised to hear Hermione challenge a professor so openly in her own classroom. Fortunately, Trelawney didn't dock Gryffindor any points, as she was too preoccupied with Harry's cup.

"The club… an attack… Dear, Dear, this is not a happy cup. The skull… danger in your path…"

"I thought it was a bowler hat", Ron objected.

By now, the whole class had gathered around Harry's table to take in the performance. She gave the cup a final turn, gasped loudly, then screamed.

Neville dropped, and broke, his second tea cup. Trelawney took to a vacant chair, hand over her heart, eyes closed.

"My Dear Boy… my poor Dear Boy… No, it would be kinder if I didn't say… Please don't ask…"

"What did you see, Professor?", Dean Thomas insisted.

"My Dear Boy: you have the Grimm".

Harry had no idea what she just said, but most of the class looked shocked, hands over mouths. A few had no idea what that meant. She looked more horrified that Harry didn't know.

"What's a 'Grimm'?", Dean asked.

"The Grimm! The Grimm! The spectral black dog who haunts graveyards! It's an omen, the worst kind of omen… of death!"

Now every hand went to mouths, all staring at Harry. All, that is, except for Hermione who had positioned herself to look over Trelawney's shoulder.

"Well, I don't think it looks anything like a Grimm".

Trelawney turned to Hermione, regarding her with a growing dislike.

"My Dear, you'll forgive me for saying it, but I perceive very little aura about you. Very little receptivity to the resonances of the future".

Seamus Finnigan was looking from side to side.

"It looks like a Grimm if you do this", he tilted his head to one side with eyes squinting shut. "But if you do this", as he tilted his head the opposite way, "it looks more like a donkey…"

"When you're all through deciding if I'm gonna die!", Harry called out with a defiance that even surprised him. Now, no one was looking his way.

"I think we'll leave the lesson off here", Trelawney announced.

Everyone packed away their books, turned in their tea cups.

"And Dear", she pointed to Neville, "You'll be late for class next time so study extra hard to make up for it.

"Until we meet again may fair fortune be yours", as she dismissed the class.

The class treated Harry as a dead man walking as they made their way to Transfiguration. Even though Trelawney dismissed the class early, Harry and company made it to McGonagall's classroom just in time. Harry took a seat all the way in the back. They still shot furtive glances his way, as though expecting him to drop dead any second now. He wasn't in any mood to listen to McGonagall's lesson on animagi. He didn't bother to watch McGonagall's transformation into a silver tabby with eye markings similar to her glasses and back again.

After returning to human form: "What has gotten into all you people? This is the first class to react with such indifference to my demonstration".

Hermione's hand was the first up: "Professor, we've just come from Divination…"

"Say no more Miss Granger. So tell me: who's gonna croak this year?"

"That would be me", Harry said.

"I see. You should know that Sybil Trelawney has predicted the death of one of her students every year since she started teaching at this school. So far, not a single one has died as predicted. It would seem that seeing death omens is her favourite way to greet every new class. Far be it for me to speak ill of a colleague…", she broke off, nostrils having gone white.

"I have made it no secret that I place very little stock in Divination. Divination is the least precise form of magick. True Seers are few and far between. As for Professor Trelawney…"

She had to take another break.

"Mr Potter, you look perfectly healthy to me, so I'm not excusing you from handing in the assigned essay. However, should you happen to drop dead between now and next Monday, you need not turn it in".

Some of the students laughed. Harry had to agree: it seemed silly to be afraid of soggy tea leaves, away from the dim light and heavy perfume of Trelawnsy's classroom. Others didn't seem so convinced.

"What about Neville's tea cup?", Lavender asked. Ron still looked worried.

After Transfiguration, everyone headed to the Great Hall for lunch.

"Ron, cheer up", Hermione said, "have some stew", as she pushed the bowl his way. He spooned his plate full, but didn't eat right away. "You heard what Professor McGonagall said".

"You haven't seen any large, black dogs lately, have you?", he asked Harry in his serious voice.

"Yeah, the neighbors up the street have one. I see it all the time when they take him for walks".

"The neighbor's pet", Hermione said.

"If Harry's seen a Grimm… it's bad… real bad. My uncle… my uncle Billius saw a Grimm… he died before the day was out".

"PFFFFFT!", Hermione dismissed. She poured herself more pumpkin juice.

"What does 'PFFFFT' mean?", Ron challenged.

"It was a coincidence", Hermione explained in her reasonable voice.

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about!", Ron was starting to get angry. "Most wizards are scared half to death after seeing a Grimm!"

"Don't you see, Ron? They think they've seen a Grimm and they give up. The Grimm isn't an omen of death, it's the cause of death. Harry isn't one to just say, 'Seen a Grimm so I'll just lay down and die!'"

Ron was left speechless, mouth going, but no words coming forth. Hermione took out a new Arithmancy text, propped it up with the jug of pumpkin juice.

"Divination seems awfully woolly, if you ask me. Mostly guesswork…"

"There was nothing woolly about the Grimm in the cup!"

"You weren't so sure when you thought it was a lamb"

"You just don't have the right aura! Trelawney said so! You just don't like the idea that you could be bad at something and don't know it all!"

That hit a nerve: she slammed the Arithmancy text down on the table top forcefully enough to send bits of meat and carrots flying off plates.

"If Divination means having to pretend to see death omens in clumps of tea leaves I'm not sure I'll be taking that class much longer. That lesson was bullshit and we both know it!"

Hermione shoved her book into her book bag and left the table.

0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

Yesterday's rain left the lawn damp and springy. The weather was co-operating as their Care of Magical Creatures class would be outdoors. The Gryffindor and Slytherin students would be attending as they headed across the lawn to the Gamekeeper's cabin at the fringe of the Forbidden Forest. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were ahead of them, all the while discussing something under their breathe, Crabbe and Goyle were chortling, and Harry had a good idea as to what the discussion was about. He hoped these three didn't fuck up Hagrid's first class as the new professor.

Hagrid was waiting for them on the porch of the cabin, he wearing his moleskin overcoat; Fang, his boarhound at his side.

"C'mon, get a move on!", he called as they approached. "Got a real treat for ye. Great lessin comin' up!", he greeted.

"Everbody here? Good, let's get a move on!"

At first, Harry thought he was leading them into the forest, but that wasn't where they were going. He led the class to a paddock or corral ringed by a rail fence. There was nothing in there.

"Ever'one gather 'round. No crowdin', there's room enough fer ever'one".

Once the class were positioned around the corral: "Furss t'ing, ever'one got their books?"

"Yeah"

"Right here"

Some waved the green book.

"Rye, now iffin ye open yer books…"

"How do we open them?", Draco called out.

"Ain' no one opened their books?", he asked, confused, and the first traces of worry were appearing on his expression.

Draco's book was tied shut with a length of rope, some had done as did Harry and belted them shut, others put them in tight fitting book bags.

"Hasn't… hasn't innyone been able ter open their books?"

Everyone shook heads: "No".

"Well, you see… here, lend me yer book", he asked Hermione. He tore off the Spell-o-tape that kept it closed, freed, it resumed its behaviour, trying to bite.

"Ye needs ter stroke 'em", he demonstrated by rubbing the book's spine with a forefinger. This calmed the book, it shivered for a few seconds, then fell open in his hand, as passive as any normie book.

"Oh! We needed to stroke them!", Draco said sarcastically. "Who would ever guess?"

"Shutup, Malfoy", Harry told him in a low voice.

"I… I… thought they was kind'a funny", he said apologetically to Hermione.

"Great gag there!", Malfoy continued, "WHUDDA CARD! Books that try to take your hand off! Very amusing! You've been wasting all this time as Gamekeeper when you could have been doing stand up!"

"Shut up, Malfoy", Harry told him, more forcefully this time.

Hagrid was looking more and more uncertain as this class wasn't working out as he anticipated. He took a few minutes to regain confidence. He took a deep breathe, and slowly let it out.

"Rye, then, ye has yer books, an' awl ye needs is the critter. Hol' on fer a few an' I fetch him".

"This place is going to the dogs!", Malfoy started in once Hagrid was out of earshot. "That oaf a professor? Wait until Father hears about this!"

"Malfoy, why don't you shut the fuck up?", Harry challenged him. "Care is an elective, and if you don't like it, it's probably not too late to drop the course, transfer to Arithmancy, or ancient Runes, or something".

"WOOOOOO Potter!", Pansy said, "the dementors are here!"

He went into the forest, and returned after about ten minutes leading one of the strangest sights they'd ever seen. The front half was covered in gray feathers, the front legs looking like that legs and feet of an enormous bird if prey. The talons red, about five inches in length, and curved like a scimitar. The feathers blended smoothly into gray fur as the rear half was that of a horse. He released the critter from the leather collar he was using to lead him.

Just then one of the Gryffindor girls let out a yelp, not of fright, but surprise.

"Meet Buckbeak", Hagrid said. "He's a hippogryph, who can tell us 'boud him?"

Hermione's hand was first up.

"Miss Hermione?"

"Despite the name, they have nothing to do with the hippopotamus, but are a type of gryphon. Hippogryphs don't get along at all well with gryphons since they compete for the same prey, as both are carnivores, even though horses are not".

"Quy rye, Miss Hermione, so have five points fer Gryffinderr. The main thing ye needs to keep in mine is thah hippogryphs are very proud. Ye never wanna insult a hippogryph, 'cause thass prolly thuh lass thing ye do. Those talons can be deadly. If'n ye give them the respeck they deserve ye gets the respeck ye gives.

"When ye approach a hippogryph, ye doan wanna force it. Let him make the furss move, that's bein' polite ye see. Doan show fear, an' keep an eye all thuh time. Then ye bow beferr him, an' if he returns thuh bow, then ye been 'ccepted, an' he'll let ye pet him. If'n he doan bow, then move away sharpish. He sain he doan wanna be disturbed juss now. So who wants to go furss?"

The students stood, wondering if approaching such a potentially dangerous animal was as good an idea as Hagrid was trying to make them believe.

"Innyone?", he asked. He was looking uncertain of himself again. He was giving the "Golden Trio" an especially disappointed look.

"I'll do it".

"Good man, Harry!"

"Oh no", Lavender said, "your tea leaves, don't forget your tea leaves".

Harry ignored her as he stepped forward, and slipped through the rails.

"Thass rye, nice an' slow. Doan blink, hippogryphs woan truss ye if'n ye blink too much".

Being told not to blink seemed to act to make his eyeballs feel the need for a blink, just because. He didn't blink, while keeping eyes on the amber eagle eye that turned his way.

"Bow, Harry"

Despite the trepidation he felt about exposing his neck to the predator, he bowed. Buckbeak just stood there, eyeing him, but not making any move to reciprocate.

"Rye, then: come back…"

Just then, Buckbeak dropped into an unmistakable bow, bending the eagle legs backwards, the eagle head down.

"Very good, Harry. Ye been 'ccepted. Try an' pet him, start with the beak".

Harry began with the beak, and Buckbeak soon leaned into Harry, eyes closed, obviously enjoying this.

"I spec he'll let ye ride him", Hagrid said.

"R… ride?", this was more than Harry bargained for.

"Juss climb up, rye behind his wing joints".

Harry hauled himself up, using the wing joint as a step. Buckbeak hoisted him into the air as he stood up straight.

"Doan be pullin' on his feathers; he woan like thah".

Hagrid slapped Buckbeak's flank: "Gidd yap!"

"Then how do I hold ONNNNNN!"

Buckbeak spread his wings, gave a leap, and began to pump his wings hard to take off.

Harry hugged the neck to avoid falling off. This ride wasn't anywhere near as smooth as his Nimbus 2000. Buckbeak's back rose and fell in time to his wing beats, making for a merry-go-round horse effect. The wings beat uncomfortably close, threatening to flip him off with the slightest misstep.

Buckbeak soared above the castle's highest tower, then out over Black Lake where Buckbeak skimmed the smooth surface, wingtips barely touching the water, as he scooped up mouthfuls of lake water. Finally, Buckbeak returned to his paddock. This was the part that had Harry most worried: the landing. It wasn't as bad as he thought. He naturally leaned backwards as Buckbeak's neck and head bent downwards as he glided toward the paddock, bled off the excess airspeed. The misspaired legs returned to the ground with a gentle bump.

"AWESOME!", Harry called out as he climbed off Buckbeak.

"Well done, Harry!", Hagrid congratulated. "Twenny points fer Gryffinderr!"

Harry rejoined his classmates to words of congratulation, back slapping and hair mussing.

"Innyone else wanna try?', Hagrid asked.

"If he can do it, I can do it", Draco called out.

"Do juss like ye seen Harry do. Nice an' easy", Hagrid encouraged.

Draco bowed, and Buckbeak returned the bow.

"Go on an' pet his beak"

Draco petted the beak: "I bet you're not as dangerous as that oaf said. Humans don't bow to their inferiors, dumb animal…"

No one knew if Buckbeak understood the words, or just the attitude. It didn't matter as Buckbeak reared on his hind legs, raking Draco's arm with his talons. Everyone gasped in horror.

Draco dropped: "I'm dying!", he called out. "It's killed me!"

Hagrid was the first to his side as he lay on the ground: "Ye ain dyin'. I'ss barely a scratch".

Everyone could see it wasn't just a scratch, blood soaked the tattered sleeve of his robe and was spreading over the ground.

"MEDICAL EMERGENCY IN THUH PADDOCK!", Hagrid used the Sonorius voice amplification spell.

Two of Madam Pomphrey's assistants appeared quickly, bringing a stretcher which they levitated Draco to the castle, the rest of the class following.

"They should fire him straight away", Pansy, in tears, was saying.

"It was Malfoy's fault!", Dean Thomas defended Hagrid. "You heard him… we all heard him. He didn't follow instructions, so he got what he fucking deserved!"

"Stupid, irresponsible oaf…"

"Thass enough of thah; it ain doin' Mr Malfoy inny good", Hagrid headed off a brawl between the Snakes and Lions.

"I'm going up to see how he's doing", Pansy told her house mates at the marble staircase. She went one way while the others headed for the dungeons and Slytherin's Common Room.

"Do you think he'll be all right?", Hermione asked nervously.

"Of course he will", Harry said. "Madam Pomphrey can heal cuts in about two seconds. Look at how many times she's patched me up, and for a lot worse".

"Would they fire him?", Hermione asked, concerned.

"I don't know", Harry said. "It's serious, I can't deny that: a student injured in class, even if he didn't follow instructions. There's sure to be some sort of inquiry, maybe some kind of probation? I don't know. Wish I could be more optimistic, but I also have to be realistic".

"No, they can't fire him", Ron insisted. "The Professor wouldn't allow Hagrid to be fired".

(Typical Dumbledore fanboi. If you knew the real Albus Dumbledore...)

Harry had no doubt but that Dumbledore would allow Hagrid to be fired, or worse, if it suited his purpose, as he was a user and a shameless opportunist. He kept that to himself.

"No, I don't think he would", Harry said to reassure Ron.

"One thing", Ron said, "you can't say it wasn't an interesting first day back".

0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

As Harry lay in bed, he listened carefully until he was certain everyone was sound asleep. There was no concern about Ron: he was snoring loudly, and wouldn't wake up unless a bomb went off under his bed. He wasn't so sure about the others in his dorm. He slipped out of bed, and down to the Common Room which was vacant, the fire having died down to embers.

"Dobby", he called out quietly. The house elf popped into the room.

"Is the…"

Harry clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Keep it down, Dobby. We don't want to wake the others", he said as he pointed up at the ceiling.

"Is the Great Master Harry Potter calling on humble Dobby, Master Sir?"

"Stop with the 'Master', just plain 'Harry' will do nicely".

"Yes, Mas… Harry"

"That's better. I need a favour…"

"A favour? Of Dobby?"

"Yes, a big one. I need you to find my godfather, Sirius Black…"

"Black is bad wizard! Don't ask…"

"No, Dobby, he isn't, even though everyone thinks he is. He's innocent: he didn't betray my parents, and he didn't kill anyone".

"If Mas… Harry says so"

"I do, and you can believe it, not because I say so, because it's the truth. I also need your word that you won't discuss what I'm about to tell you with anyone".

"Not even Headmaster Dumbledore?"

"Especially not Dumbledore… Your word, Dobby".

"Dobby shall not betray Harry Potter's confidence".

"Sirius is hiding somewhere in the Forbidden Forest. He's an unregistered animagus whose form is a black dog. He answers to the name 'Padfoot', so he will know I sent you. I need you to find him, see what he needs, and make sure he's supplied with food and other essentials he may need. Can you do that, Dobby?"

"It is a big favour", Dobby agreed, "but for Mas… Harry Potter, Dobby shall not fail". He disappeared with a pop.