AN - Wow, 1400 views! Thank you all. I hope things are getting more interesting for you as a reader as we go on, I know I am enjoying the writing it the more I go along. Please feel free to leave a comment on what you think, the good and the bad, otherwise I don't know what might need improvement.
Harry woke the next morning feeling much better. The previous day had been long, much more eventful than he had hoped for. He got dressed after waking a still snoring Ron, and they met Hermione in the common room.
"Morning," Harry called as they neared her, her bushy hair the only portion of her head they could see past the book she was studying. Arithmancy 101. Harry idly wondered how she got up so early to study.
"Oh, hello," she put the book down, marking the page and stood up. "I was just doing a little morning study." She straightened her skirt as Ron gave her an incredulous look.
"Sure, nothing like an invigorating study session to wake you up." Ron shook his head in disbelief, certain he could never understand her passion for schoolwork.
"Let's go, shall we?" she stuffed the Arithmancy book into her bag, already packed with an incredible pile, and started toward the exit. They boys followed close behind.
They made it to the Great Hall in time to hear a burst of laughter from the Slytherin table. There was a group standing around Malfoy, who appeared to be mimicking fainting. They looked toward the newcomers to the hall, and one called out.
"Potter!" It was Pansy Parkinson, a short and not-so attractive girl that followed Malfoy anywhere she could, and if the rumors were true, several places she shouldn't. "Potter, you'd better watch out! The dementors could get you, whooooooooo!" Harry sighed inwardly, but ignored the jab and its ensuing laughter. They sat at the Gryffindor table.
It wasn't until he sat that he realized that the Great Hall was a little different. The tables were pushed towards each other ever so slightly, leaving room at the far corner for a small table. There were soldiers seated at the table eating, while several others wearing the distinct battle gear stood around the hall.
"They were here when we made it down too." George said, passing the three of them papers. Harry opened his. Across the top read Third Year Schedule. He scanned it quickly, and looked back at the soldiers.
"So I didn't just dream that?" Ron asked, grabbing a stack of toast and bacon. He had wasted little time, the habit of a younger brother in a large family. Waiting could mean the difference between eating bacon and eating a second helping of steamed vegetables at home, and he kept the habit at school, much to the amusement of his friends though the food at school seldom ran low.
"I can't exactly blame Dumbledore," Hermione was spreading marmalade on her toast as she spoke. "Can you imagine dementors in the school? Better this…" she trailed off, taking a bite.
"Yeah," Harry stopped staring at the extra table, opting instead to catch up on breakfast. Eggs, bacon, toast and a particularly delicious sliced ham were all scooped to his plate, and he decided to actually check out the class schedule. "Divination first today."
Just then, the doors to the Great Hall banged open, and Hagrid walked in. He stopped by as he passed the Gryffindor table.
"Yer in my firs' lesson, righ' after lunch! Been up since five gettin' ready." He wore a large grin across his face. It was no secret, at least to Harry and his friends, that Hagrid had a special place in his heart for magical creatures. Getting the teaching position, especially for that class was nothing short of a dream come true for the large man. "Me…a teacher…hones'ly…" he was mumbling to himself as he continued on toward the staff table.
"Well we ought to get going," Hermione said after they had all finished eating. "The divination tower is a long walk from here. The three stood up and started for the door, and Harry noted that the soldiers at the table stood too, apparently finished with their food. He recognized one of them, Captain Gordon. The captain said something to his men, and they nodded. Two of them jogged away, heading straight toward Harry and his friends.
"Hey, man," one called out. Harry stopped, and his friends followed suit. He wasn't sure what this would be about, but figured he could at least be polite. "How's it going?" The two soldiers had caught up, and the talking one wore a large grin. The other was a hulking form and while he looked friendly enough, Harry thought he could break someone in half if he wanted.
"Er…" Harry stared at the duo for a moment. They weren't dressed in the full gear worn by the many other soldiers patrolling the school. They had different fatigues on, and the muscular one was only in a tan undershirt, which looked like it was straining to cover his large form. They both had belts with various gear and each with a handgun. They weren't as 'uniform' as the other troops, but they definitely stood out. "Alright, I guess?"
"Great," the grinning one said, holding out a hand, which Harry hesitantly took. The man grabbed it and shook hard. "I'm Mike, this here…" he hooked a thumb toward the muscular one, "is Ian. We are gonna hang with you guys for your first couple classes." They stared at each other for a moment, Mike still looking happier than anyone Harry had ever seen. At least on a school morning.
"Erm…that's great." Hermione finally broke the silence, giving Mike a hesitant smile back. He took the smile as an affirmation of welcome, and inserted himself between Harry and Hermione, energetically wrapping an arm around each of their shoulders and starting the group toward class. A surprised Ron hurriedly followed and an amused Ian took up the rear of the gang.
"So, where are we headed?" Mike asked as Hermione politely removed herself from under his arm, Harry quickly following suit.
"Divination…" Ron sounded off glumly as he caught back up, taking the chance to insert himself back into the conversation. He was not particularly excited for divination, but his other option was Arithmancy, the study of magical numerology. Ron would sooner spend the night cuddling Aragog than choose such an intensive course.
"Sounds awesome." Mike said, still grinning ear to ear. Hermione eyed him warily as they headed up the staircase towards the classroom.
"Er…are you always so excited about class?" she asked, trying to sound conversational. In truth, she had not seen someone so excited about school work, and it had piqued her interest.
"Not remotely," Mike replied cheerfully, "but we were tasked with the morning patrol. A long one, around the school grounds. But, the Captain wants us getting familiar with things here, so while they work hard, I will sit and learn to…divine?" He finished the last word, not sure what exactly divination was. Hermione laughed and Ron and Harry were smiling, his cheerfulness infectious.
On arrival at the tower, they climbed up the ladder one after another and found seats. Mike and Ian, not wanting to disrupt the class, sat down in the back quietly.
Captain Bradley Gordon arched his back under the load of his combat pack. No matter how you load, how you distribute the weight, a kit was still heavy. The rest of his team, save Ian and Mike, were outfitted similarly, in preparation for the patrol they were about to embark on. They were performing their final weapons checks.
Brad racked the charging handle, chambering a round, then checked the bottom of the magazine. A red stripe, indicating the stunning spell the ammunition was enchanted with. They carried a standard loadout of three magazines of stunning rounds, one magazine of disarming ammunition and two magazines of live ammo for their rifles. Their sidearms were equipped with magazines loaded with Incarcerous rounds, which would bind the target in ropes. The idea being that they could stun or disarm their targets, then take time to bind them. The live ammunition was a last resort, but they were determined not to be caught without lethal capabilities.
Satisfied that his gear was in order, he gave his guys a once over. They had performed these checks so many times it was almost muscle memory at this point. Once they all were ready they started toward the entrance hall from their "armory," an empty classroom on the first floor that was now loaded with gear.
The task force had taken several empty rooms over. On the third floor a command and control room they commonly referred to as "C3," for Command, Control and Communication, was created out of an old and unused storage room. It was large enough to fit the computers and communications equipment needed to successfully run operations. Major Price was often in that room, or his office just down the hall. His orders could be relayed by the operations commander, under the call sign Kingpin.
On the same floor, just past Major Price's room, were the rest of the officers' quarters. Most were smaller storage or class rooms that were converted. Not the most comfortable, but it was better than being outside. Getting up and down the stairs had been a struggle without the direct supervision of a teacher or experienced student, and someone had gone through the trouble of putting a chart marking which stairs were tricks. After a concerned conversation with the headmaster about the staircases changing direction on them, Dumbledore responded that he would ask politely for them to behave. No one was sure what exactly that meant, but now when the soldiers needed to get from point a to point b, the stairs were stationary.
A pair of large classrooms that were previously unused on the third floor were turned into barracks, where the soldiers of Bravo Company were given sleeping and relaxation quarters. They were cramped, given that over two hundred people were living in them, but given the shift schedules it was usually not that full.
The ground floor contained the armory, a large storage closet that used to hold extra Quidditch equipment. After a harrowing battle with a pair of ghouls inhabiting the room, and a little assistance from some of the staff after the ghouls unleashed a set of bludgers on the invaders, they filled it with various weapons and gear.
"Kingpin, Reaper," Gordon spoke into the mic as the team exited the large entrance hall doors, "Reaper is Oscar-Mike." Oscar-Mike was military slang for 'on the move,' using the phonetic alphabet for 'on' and 'move.'
"Kingpin copies, Oscar-Mike." The radio went silent, and the operators descended the stairs and out toward the lake. Their patrol would start to the southeast along the edge of the lake until it met the Forbidden Forest, at which point they would follow the edge of the forest north, then west as it wrapped around the school, until they came across the school's gate. They would follow along the gate back south until they had hooked around the school and were headed back towards the Great Lake again. The patrol was expected to take about four hours, taking them right to lunch.
"Hell of a place," Jason Steele spoke up as they reached the edge of the Great Lake. In the distance, something large broke the surface and dove immediately again. There was a lot they had yet to learn about the magical world, and heaven only knew what it was they just saw. He was right though, Hogwarts was a beautiful place, and if he dared to use the term, magical. The grounds were sprawling and green, the lake pristine and beautiful. Hogwarts castle itself was massive, and he couldn't imagine the place could have been constructed without magic. Some of the towers seemed too tall to stay up without support. Yet there it was, plain for the eye to see.
"Hell of a place," Brad replied, agreeing completely. It was a moment before he realized the entire patrol had paused and was staring out at the lake. It was truly enchanting, and he imagined he would probably be spending some of his down time out here. "Let's get a move on, gents." The spell broken, they continued on the patrol, rifles hanging in relaxed hands.
It took them almost 45 minutes to follow the edge of the lake west to the Forbidden Forest, where they turned to the north. As they followed the edge of the wood line, each of them tightened their grip subconsciously on their weapons. Though none of them noticed anything out of the ordinary, the forest had an unmistakable vibe of 'something is watching you' and the operators were used to being the ones doing the watching. Being on the receiving end, even if they couldn't really tell for certain, was an unfamiliar feeling. Not one of them enjoyed it.
It was a welcome relief when they reached a small cabin near the edge of the forest. Outside in a large pumpkin patch, a truly massive man with long bushy hair and a shaggy beard was stringing together a bunch of small squirrel like animals.
"Morning," Gordon called out, and the great man turned to look. He had been so focused on stringing the dead animals together that he hadn't noticed the approaching soldiers, and the look was evident on his face. "I didn't get a chance to congratulate you on the promotion…" he trailed off, trying to remember the man's name.
"Rubeus Hagrid," he replied, puffing his chest at the mention of the promotion. He walked to the edge of the pumpkin patch where the rest of Reaper team was standing. "An' you are?" he extended one of his hands for a handshake and Gordon took it.
"Captain Bradley Gordon," Brad furrowed his brow at the handshake. It was firm, but calling it a handshake didn't quite do it justice. Hagrid's hand had completely encased his own, and Brad couldn't help but smile at it. Hagrid had to be eight or nine feet tall. "This is Reaper team," he indicated the men standing around him, who gave various acknowledgements. "You excited for your first day then?" Gordon looked past Hagrid, at the strung-up animals. He knew that the class was Care of Magical Creatures, and he had to admit that those strung up critters looked a little past the point of being cared for.
"Oh, it's gonna be a righ' treat, it is." Hagrid enthusiastically replied. He walked back to his strung animals, "Food, for the Hippogriffs. You ought ter come by, they're fascinatin' creatures, Hippogriffs."
"When?" Brad asked, and finished the rest of the sentence in his mind. And what exactly in the hell is a hippogriff. His mental image was a cross between a hippopotamus and some kind of bird, which almost made him laugh. It was comical, and he figured that there was no way it was accurate.
"Righ' after lunch," Hagrid strung another of the small creatures, and Brad decided he may give it a shot. They should be done with the patrol by lunch, and frankly he was curious how far off his mental image was.
"We'll try and make it," the captain started back toward the forest to continue the patrol. "Till later." The team followed and as they reached the edge, they headed east again.
Brad was nearing the greenhouses which housed Professor Sprout's classes, when his radio kicked to life.
"Dagger 3-1, Stalker," Gordon and his unit stopped, listening to the exchange. Dagger was 2nd Platoons' call sign, and there was a squad from that platoon on patrol in the Forbidden Forest. Stalker was their UAV. "Be advised, multiple heat signatures approaching rapidly. Approximately platoon strength." The canopy of the forest was thick, and the UAV had to use infrared to see anything through it.
"Up to fifty somethings coming after them?" Sanderson asked out, the entire team hearing the warning. They heard the squad leader call for defensive positions and request reinforcements. They were still learning a lot about their new environment, and no one was certain what to expect.
Brad pulled up his SOLDA, selecting the drone feed. He could see that his team was close, at least as close as could be expected, given that they were not in the forest. He shut off the feed, having already plotted the direction they needed to go in his mind.
"Reaper team responding, ETA is less than five." The entire team shouldered their rifles and started a steady run into the woods. They were not about to rush headlong into whatever this situation turned into, but speed was necessary.
"Contact left," someone from the pinned squad called over the radio.
"Lost it," another said. The team quickened their pace until they were getting near, then slowed to a fast walk. They stayed in visual range of each other, and as soon as Brad saw someone from the pinned squad, he shouted.
"Blue, blue, blue!" The code was used to announce that they were friendly, a more professional version of 'Don't shoot, I'm with you!' Brad and his team spread into the line of soldiers, Brad taking a position near the squad leader. "What do you guys have?"
"Not sure," the squad leader replied, still eying the trees around them. "Keep getting a glimpse of something, then it's gone."
"Let's get ready to bug out-" Brad was cut short by multiple announcements of 'contact!' and raised his own rifle at the approaching figures, though no one fired. Colonel Sumner's last words before he departed back to RAF Lossiemouth rang in his mind. We are already distrusted by the magical community here. Your primary objective is to keep your guys alive, but don't go burning bridges. We need friends, so put on your friendly faces and build up some good will. Hearts and minds, guys.
"You're trespassing!" the closest of the figures called out. It took Brad's mind a moment to process, but what he thought were men on horseback, cavalry, were actually part-man part-horse. Centaurs? Why not…
"This is Captain Gordon, United States Army!" Gordon called out, standing cautiously. They were definitely outnumbered, though he thought they still had the edge in firepower. There were a lot of bows pointed at them, many of them at Brad himself, but he was hoping to avoid a firefight. "We are here keeping Hogwarts safe, this was a patrol for the safety of the school. Nothing more!"
"We aren't interested in your reasoning, human." It was a different centaur this time, with a full head of red hair and a matching beard. "Humans are not allowed on our grounds…" the centaur flexed his bow menacingly, at which Brad reflexively tightened his rifle to his shoulder. Deciding to ignore the second centaur, he continued speaking to the first one.
"We aren't here to threaten your territory. If you give us an idea of where your boundaries are, I can make sure we don't cross them again." The first centaur stared at him for a moment, before the second spoke up again.
"Firenze, we should kill them where they stand." The first centaur, Firenze, looked at his companion. Before he could respond, Gordon cut back in. This was getting out of hand.
"A battle isn't in anyone's best interest," he started, and Firenze looked back at him, continuing to contemplate. "Make no mistake…we don't want a fight, but we will finish one. Give us the boundary and let us be on our way, this doesn't need to end in bloodshed."
"Go now," Firenze pointed through the woods, back to the castle. "We shall speak another time, under less…stressful circumstances. Do not come to this part of the forest again, we will not be so forgiving."
"Fall back, Reaper take up the rear." The troops didn't need to be told twice, and immediately headed back south toward the castle, rifles ready in case they broke the uneasy ceasefire. The second centaur looked torn between wanting to kill the soldiers and wanting to attack Firenze, clearly unhappy with the arrangement. "We will continue patrolling the forest east of the castle, and will be along the tree line south of here. Contact us whenever you're ready, and again…we apologize for the misunderstanding." Gordon backed away as he was speaking, watching for any sign of hostility. The centaurs didn't move a muscle. As soon as they were clear, they turned and made for the edge of the forest, where they regrouped and headed for the castle to meet with Major Price about the development.
Brad cleared from the meeting with Major Price just in time for lunch. He regrouped with Mike and Ian in the Great Hall, and the troops sat at their table, enjoying the food that appeared. The rest of the soldiers ate while students were in class, so as not to disrupt everyone. Reaper team was eating with them, since they were supposed to try to 'blend.' It was easier on paper, being that they were muggle outsiders in strange uniforms that ate at a separate table, but it was what was decided.
"Centaurs huh?" Mike said, digging in to a pile of mashed potatoes that threatened to spill from his plate, it was piled so high. "They sound like douchebags." Leave it to Mike…
"Well they saw us in their home, and weren't happy," Brad replied, taking a bite of a large sandwich of some kind. He didn't know what it was, but it was piled with meat, so it was good enough for him. "Price wasn't happy, but we canceled the patrols in that area. Sounds like Dumbledore probably knows where their boundaries are anyways, so we are going to patrol around them."
"Well, we found out Harry is going to die," Mike said energetically. Ian rolled his eyes at the comment, and Brad looked to Ian for the real story.
"Divination is supposed to be some kind of future seeing, palm reading deal. Harry's tea cup had a Grim or something, teacher went ballistic. Professor McGonagall said she does that every year though." Ian obviously didn't believe the prediction, and Mike seemed mostly amused by it.
"So what's next, boss?" Mike reached across the table to pick up one of the large sandwiches.
"We are going to go to Care of Magical Creatures with Gryffindor and Slytherin." Gordon relayed the invitation by Hagrid, along with the fact that they would be outside in the beautiful weather. Mike looked enthusiastic, having thoroughly enjoyed the first classes he had attended. It was amazing going to class and not being obligated to pay any attention, even if it was mostly interesting to watch.
They finished their food much quicker than anyone else in the Great Hall, a lifetime of military training dictating that faster was better. Once the rest of the school caught up, they were dismissed from lunch and students began heading to classes. The soldiers of Reaper team followed a large group of Gryffindor students at a respectful distance until they arrived at Hagrid's hut. The new arrivals seemed to meander around the gate to the pumpkin patch until Hagrid stepped outside.
"Well, c'mon now, hurry up!" he bellowed, calling everyone to gather. They did so as he continued talking. "Good ter see ya, Captain. Everyone 'ere?" He looked around and smiled, obviously satisfied that they were all present. "Le's go, got a great lesson comin' up!" He turned and walked toward the edge of the forest, the strung animals hung over his back.
The Gryffindor students were the first to move, Harry, Ron and Hermione following almost immediately. Slytherins' reluctant students followed, with Reaper team bringing up the rear. Five minutes later, they were in a paddock of sorts.
"C'mon up to the gate, tha's it." Hagrid waved his arms, beckoning them closer. "Alrigh' the firs' thing ya want ter do is open yer books-"
"How?" a cold voice interrupted the professor from the Slytherin group. Brad looked over, surprised at the immediate disrespect, but couldn't peg who had done it.
"Eh?" was Hagrid's only reply.
"How do we open the books?" it was the same voice, and this time Brad could see him. He was a pale, blonde boy who wore a sneering, disrespectful look on his face. The boy took out his book, a large one that appeared to be covered in fur and was wrapped in a rope.
"Hasn' anyone bin able ter open 'em?" he looked a little disappointed when no one spoke up. "Yeh've got ter stroke em." He pulled a book from a nearby student and demonstrated, the book opening with ease afterwards.
"Oh, how silly…" Malfoy started, an incredulous look on his face. "We should have stroked them, of course!" There was a small burst of laughter out of the Slytherin group.
"I though' they were funny," Hagrid said to Hermione, who wore a sympathetic look but didn't exactly agree.
"Yeah, hilarious. They-" Malfoys comments were cut off.
"Cool it with the commentary, kid." Brad called sharply, and Malfoy looked taken aback for a second. He'd had enough of the little brat. Malfoy opened his mouth with a retort, but Brad beat him to it. "We are here for class, listen to your professor. Now." He turned back to Hagrid, who wore a grateful look, and gestured the great man to continue.
"Er, thanks," he said. "Now, ya got yer books, so…now we need yer creatures…I'll be back." He turned and walked into the woods and out of sight.
"Ooooooh!" one of the girls in the Gryffindor group squealed pointing to the woods where Hagrid had left moments before. Walking toward them, behind Hagrid, were some of the strangest creatures Brad had ever seen.
They had the body, hind legs, and tail of a horse, but the front legs, chest, and head of what looked like an eagle. Nothing like a hippopotamus.
"Beau'iful, aren' they?" Hagrid smiled at the group, who looked on hesitantly. "Hippogriffs!" he announced after no one said anything. He rubbed his hands together and then beckoned the group towards him. "So, if ya want ter come closer…"
Most of the group stayed put, but Harry, Ron and Hermione edged cautiously closer. Mike edged a little closer as well, eying the creature curiously.
"Righ', now the firs' thing ya ought ter know," Hagrid started, and Brad thought he looked almost like Steve Irwin, obviously in his element with wild creatures, "is they're a proud race. Easily offended, hippogriffs are. Yeh should never insult one, migh' be the last thing ya do."
The hippogriff nearest Hagrid pecked its head downward, then twisted it to the side, inspecting the group of students with a solid black eye.
"Ya always let a hippogriff make the firs' move," he continued. "It's polite. You walk toward 'im, bow, an' wait. If 'e bows back, ya can touch 'im. If not…well we'll talk abou' that in a bit."
"Now," Hagrid clapped his hands excitedly and looked to the nearest hippogriff, "Who wants ter go firs'?" The students, save Harry, collectively took a step back. Hagrid turned back to see Harry standing closer, and smiling widely.
"Good man, Harry!" he beamed. Harry took a hesitant step forward and Brad heard one of the girls from Gryffindor whisper 'What about his tea leaves? Oh no-' which caused him a brief smile.
Harry stepped to the hippogriff, who Hagrid introduced as Buckbeak, and bowed under the direction of Hagrid. The hippogriff stared at him for a moment, then bowed.
"Excellen'!" he shouted, clapping Harry on the back. Harry closed the distance to the hippogriff and stroked its feathers lightly. "Righ' well, I reckon 'e migh' let ya ride 'im." Harry turned, a shocked look on his face, before Hagrid hoisted him up and onto the large creature. It squawked briefly and Hagrid clapped its rear, causing it to rush forward, extend its wings and take flight. Brad caught a brief view of Harry hanging on for dear life.
His initial thought was to wonder if Harry was going to be safe up there. Thinking on it for a moment, he remembered Hagrid was a close friend of Harry's who wouldn't intentionally put him in danger. And if Sirius Black wanted to get at Harry up there, it'd be a hell of a moving target.
"Damn," Mike muttered, "magic school is badass." They watched Harry fly around the castle and back, and the hippogriff landed gracefully back in the paddock.
"Outstandin' Harry, righ' good work!" Hagrid exclaimed, pulling Harry down. Many of the students from Gryffindor were clapping, and Brad found himself doing the same. Mike was right, this school was nothing if not exciting. "Who else wan's ter go?"
The rest of the class climbed into the paddock, and Brad heard Mike say something about wanting to give it a shot. The blonde asshole, Malfoy, and a crew of his friends were standing around Buckbeak, just in earshot of Brad. Malfoy bowed and Buckbeak bowed back.
"This was really easy," Malfoy said as he stroked the hippogriff's beak. "You're not really dangerous at all, are you? You great, ugly brute." There was a flash of steel grey talons, and Malfoy was on his back, gripping his arm as blood pooled out. Hagrid wrestled the hippogriff back as Brad and the rest of the team hopped the fence. Grimes knelt down, pulling out his Infantry First Aid Kit and struggled with the Slytherin to get to the bleeding wound on his arm.
"I'm dying!" he called out, writhing under Eric, who was rapidly losing patience. Ian saw the trouble he was having and bent down, lending some muscle. Under the newfound grip of one of the team's bodybuilders, Malfoy found himself unable to move. Eric expertly placed a hemostatic gauze pad over the gash on his arm and tightly wrapped it.
"Come on," Brad heaved the boy up on to his feet. "We will get you to the hospital wing." Malfoy looked like he would swing at one of them, obviously not wanting the escort. The pain in his arm won out however, and he followed, leaving a stunned class behind.
When they left the hospital ward, Malfoy was still hollering about how he had almost died, trying to illicit sympathy from the growing crowd of Slytherin students visiting him.
"Dick-" Mike muttered as they headed to the barracks.
Harry hesitated for a moment, then knocked on the door to Hagrid's hut. Beside him, Ron and Hermione stood with matching worried looks on their faces. The Care of Magical Creatures class had ended rather abruptly after Malfoy insulted Buckbeak and got attacked, and Hagrid was missing from dinner.
"C'min." The sullen reply would have been too quiet for them to hear, were it not for the fact that Hagrid had such a booming voice to begin with. It was near impossible for the man to be quiet. They pushed the door open.
Hagrid was sitting at the table with a jug of what looked like some kind of alcohol, judging by the man's drunken appearance. Fang sat with his head on Hagrid's lap, looking on sullenly.
"S'pect it ought ter be a record," he seemed to be speaking to the jug, but the trio listened on. "I don' think there's been a professor to las' jus' a day."
"You haven't been fired yet, Hagrid!" gasped Hermione.
"Not yet," Hagrid replied miserably, taking a large gulp of whatever pungent liquid was in the jug. "On'y a matter o' time, I reckon. After Malfoy…"
"How is he?" Harry asked, not so much out of interest for Malfoy's wellbeing, but as a way to gauge how serious things were.
"It wasn't that bad, was it?" Ron asked, taking a seat at the other end of the table. Fang stirred, but didn't move from his place at Hagrid's lap.
"Madam Pomfrey an' the muggles did wha' they could." Hagrid took another swig and continued, "He's sayin' he's still in pain…covered in bandages."
"He's faking it!" Harry said it forcefully, perhaps a little louder than necessary. It almost made his blood boil, to see the little git putting on a show like that. "You can trust Malfoy to milk it for all it's worth."
"It's Malfoy's fault! We all heard you, hippogriffs attack if you insult them." Hermione edged closer to Hagrid as she spoke. "We will back you up." She put a small hand on his shoulder.
"I s'pose yer right." He looked up at her with teary eyes and sighed heavily.
"I think you've had enough to drink." She picked up the jug and walked outside with it to dump the contents. He nodded his head in agreement, sat up clumsily, and followed her outside.
Splash! Hermione came back inside and put the jug away as Ron and Harry tried to see what the splash was.
"He dunked his head in the water barrel," she said, answering their unasked question. A moment later Hagrid reentered, head dripping with water.
"Tha's better." He wrung his beard and started getting the excess water out of his hair. "It was good of yeh ter come and see…" He stopped for a moment, a look of dawning across his face.
"WHAT D'YEH THINK YER DOIN' 'ERE!?" He bellowed, startling the trio, who all jumped from their seats. "YER NOT TO BE WANDERIN' OUTSIDE AFTER DARK!" He gathered them and escorted them to the castle, everyone in an awkward silence.
"Yer not to go doin' this again," Hagrid said as they reached the entrance hall. A pair of soldiers manning the checkpoint at the door watched on but said nothing. "I'm not worth that. Get ter bed." Hagrid turned and left, and the trio headed to Gryffindor tower.