*Revised 2/18/18

Harry absently scratched at his sore arm, flinching in surprise when his nails caught at something. He pulled up his sleeve, confused as his skin lay clean and smooth. He ran his fingers along his arm again, feeling the strange ridges of skin, like he had some sort of condition.

He blinked, running his hand over his arm yet again, becoming even more confused as the bumps had vanished. The pain remained, but his arm was as smooth as ever. Furrowing his brows, he figured that he must've imagined the strange sensation. He did almost pass out, after all.

After resting a bit longer, he felt some strength return to him. He stood up and washed out the horrible, acrid taste in his mouth, before washing his face for good measure. He still felt ill, but the dizziness had passed and his skin wasn't clammy anymore. He looked in the mirror and was surprised to see he looked as good as ever, better actually. He looked perfectly healthy. How he felt, however, was the complete opposite. He was weak, shivery, and wanted nothing more than to take a nice long nap by the fire in the common room. Unfortunately that wasn't to be, seeing as he had Care of Magical Creatures next. He hoped he wasn't late, and that Malfoy hadn't spread the story of him being sick and nearly fainting, again, across the school already. That would just be the icing on this cake of a day.

With that thought he made his way to the Great Hall, where it seemed lunch had just ended. He looked around for Ron and Hermione and spotted them seated at the Gryffindor table.

When he came upon them he heard Ron say, "You just don't like being bad at something for a change!"

This comment obviously struck a nerve in Hermione, as she slammed her Arithmancy book on the table, sending bits of meat and carrot flying everywhere.

"If being good at Divination means I have to pretend to see death omens in a lump of tea leaves," she heatedly replied, "I'm not sure I'll be studying it much longer! That lesson was absolute rubbish compared with my Arithmancy class!"

She snatched up her bag and walked away, seeming not to notice Harry. Ron looked after her and saw Harry, though, giving him a half-smile and a vague, "Hullo." Ron stood up as well and made his way over to Harry, frowning.

"What's she talking about?" he asked. "She hasn't been to an Arithmancy class yet."

Harry shrugged, not wanting to get involved in the argument. Together they made their way out of the castle to their first-ever Care of Magical Creatures class.

Yesterday's rain has cleared, leaving the sky covered by a veil of soft gray clouds. The color of Malfoy's eyes, Harry thought, and then was horrified at himself for thinking such a thing about his nemesis. He shoved Malfoy out of his mind forcefully, going back to admiring the scenery, sans-clouds. The grass was springy and a bit damp underfoot and the turning leaves shimmered in a light wind. It was warm outside, but not too warm. Harry breathed deeply of the fresh air, feeling his lingering nausea leave him.

Hermione caught up to them, greeting Harry stiffly. She ignored Ron. Harry walked between them awkwardly and silently as they made their way down the sloping lawns to Hagrid's hut, on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. It was only when he spotted three only-too-familiar backs ahead of them that he realized they must be having these lessons with the Slytherins. Surprisingly, Malfoy was standing wordlessly, brooding. Harry would've guessed that news of his debacle in the bathroom would've been a choice bit of gossip to spread around. He hoped vainly that, just this once, Malfoy might keep something to himself. Yeah, right.

Hagrid was waiting for his class at the door of his hut. He stood in his moleskin overcoat with Fang the boarhound at his heels, looking impatient to start.

"C'mon, now, get a move on!" he called as the class approached. "Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin' up! Everyone here? Right, follow me!"

For one nasty moment, Harry thought that Hagrid was going to lead them into the forest; Harry'd had enough unpleasant experiences in there to last him a lifetime. However, Hagrid strolled off around the edge of the trees, and five minutes later they found themselves outside a kind of paddock. There was nothing in it.

"Everyone gather 'round the fence here!" he called. "Tha's it- make sure yeh can see- now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books-"

"How?" asked the cold, drawling voice of Draco Malfoy.

"Eh?" said Hagrid.

"How do we open our books?" Malfoy repeated slowly, as if talking to someone mentally incompetent. He took out his copy of The Monster Book of Monsters, which he had bound shut with a length of rope. Other people took theirs out too: some, like Harry had belted their book shut, others had crammed them inside tight bags or clamped them together with binder clips.

"Hasn'- hasn' anyone bin able ter open their books?" asked Hagrid, looking crestfallen.

The class all shook their heads.

"Yeh've got ter stroke 'em," said Hagrid, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world. "Look-"

He took Hermione's copy and ripped off the Spellotape that bound it. The book tried to bite but Hagrid ran a giant forefinger down its spine, and the book shivered, then fell open and lay quiet in his hand.

"Oh, how silly we've all been!" Malfoy sneered. "We should have stroked them! Why didn't we guess!"

"I- I thought they were funny," Hagrid said uncertainly to Hermione.

"Oh, tremendously funny!" said Malfoy. "Really witty, giving us books that try and rip our hands off!"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry said quietly. Hagrid was looking downcast and Harry wanted his first lesson to be a success. Surprisingly, after a short glare at Harry, Malfoy did shut up. He went back to brooding, scowling into the trees.

"Righ' then," said Hagrid, who seemed to have lost his train of thought, "so- so yeh've got yer books an'- an'- now yeh need the magical creatures. Yeah. So I'll go an' get 'em. Hang on..."

He strode away from them into the forest and out of sight.

The class waited in silence for Hagrid to return, students freeing their books and stroking the spines. Hermione was already flipping through hers. Neville yelped as the book slammed shut on his hand before he was able to grab ahold of it and stroke the spine.

"Ooooooh!" Lavender Brown squealed suddenly, pointing toward the opposite side of the paddock.

Trotting toward them were a dozen of the most bizarre creatures Harry had ever seen. They had the bodies, hind legs, and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings and heads of what seemed to be giant eagles, with cruel, steel-colored beaks and large, brilliantly orange eyes. The talons on their front legs were half a foot long and deadly looking. Each of the beasts had a thick leather collar around its neck, attached to a long chain, and the ends of all of these were held in the vast hands of Hagrid, who came jogging into the paddock behind the creatures.

"Gee up, there!" he roared, shaking the chains and urging the creatures toward the fence where the class stood. Everyone drew back slightly as Hagrid reached them and tethered the creatures to the fence.

"Hippogriffs!" Hagrid roared happily, waving a hand at them. "Beau'iful, aren' they?"

Harry could sort of see what Hagrid meant. Once you got over the first shock of seeing something that was half horse, half bird, you started to appreciate the hippogriffs' gleaming coats, changing smoothly from feather to fur, each of them a different color: stormy gray, bronze, pinkish roan, gleaming chestnut, and inky black.

"So," said Hagrid, rubbing his hands together and beaming around, "if yeh wan' ter come a bit nearer..."

No one seemed to want to. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, however, approached the fence cautiously.

"Now, firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' hippogriffs is, they're proud," Hagrid stated. "Easily offended, hippogriffs are. Don't never insult one, 'cause it might be the last thing yeh do." Hagrid paused for a moment, rubbing his bearded chin. "Yeh always wait fer the hippogriff ter make the firs' move," he continued. "It's polite, see? Yeh walk toward him, and yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. If he doesn' bow, then get away from him sharpish, 'cause those talons hurt."

"Righ'- who wants ter go first?"

Most of the class backed farther away in answer. Even Harry, Ron, and Hermione had misgivings. The hippogriffs were tossing their fierce heads and flexing their powerful wings; they didn't seem to like being tethered like this.

"No one?" Hagrid asked sadly, with a pleading look.

"I'll do it," Harry said, knowing he would regret it later. He still felt awful, but if it meant Hagrid's first lesson went well, he would do whatever he needed to.

There was an intake of breath from behind him, and both Lavender and Parvati whispered, "Oooh, no, Harry, remember your tea leaves!" Malfoy's head swiveled around sharply to stare at him. He couldn't pinpoint the emotion portrayed in his gray eyes, but whatever it was, it couldn't be good.

He ignored them all, climbing over the paddock fence. It was harder than it should've been and he struggled to catch his breath once he reached the other side.

"Good man, Harry!" Hagrid roared, grinning. "Righ' then- let's see how yeh get on with Buckbeak."

He untied one of the chains, pulled the gray hippogriff away from its fellows, and slipped off its leather collar. The class on the other side of the paddock seemed to be holding its breath. Malfoy's eyes were narrowed, but he looked more frustrated than anything, as if he had found a puzzle he couldn't quite figure out.

"Easy now, Harry," said Hagrid quietly. "Yeh've got eye contact, now try not ter blink... Hippogriffs don' trust yeh if yeh blink too much..."

Harry's eyes immediately began to water, but he didn't shut them. Buckbeak had turned his great, sharp head and was staring at Harry with one fierce orange eye.

"Tha's it," said Hagrid encouragingly. "Tha's it, Harry... now bow..."

Harry didn't feel much like exposing the back of his neck to Buckbeak, but he did as he was told. He gave a short bow and then looked up.

The hippogriff was still staring haughtily at him. It didn't move.

"Ah," said Hagrid, sounding worried. "Righ'- back away, now, Harry, easy does it-"

But then, to Harry's enormous surprise, the hippogriff bent its scaly front knees and sank into what was an unmistakable bow.

"Well done, Harry!" Hagrid yelled, ecstatic. "Righ'- yeh can touch him! Pat his beak, go on!"

Harry felt that a better reward would have been to back away, but he slowly moved toward the hippogriff and reached out toward it. He patted the beak several times and the hippogriff closed its eyes lazily, as though enjoying it. It then nuzzled his arm, pushing his hand back to its cheek. Harry stroked it and the the hippogriff, Buckbeak, that was its name, leant slightly into the touch. Its feathers were silky smooth and warm to the touch. Harry found himself smiling, despite himself. It really was a beautiful creature.

The class broke into applause, all except for Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were looking deeply disappointed, though Malfoy still seemed a bit frustrated as well.

"Righ' then, Harry," said Hagrid. "I reckon he migh' let yeh ride him!"

Harry's eyes shot wide open in surprise. This was more than he had bargained for. He was used to a broomstick, but he wasn't sure a hippogriff would be quite the same. Besides, he was more than a little worried that he might throw up again.

"Yeh climb up there, jus' behind the wing joint," said Hagrid, "an' mind yeh don' pull any of his feathers out, he won' like tha'..."

Taking a steadying breath, Harry put his foot on the top of Buckbeak's wing and hoisted himself onto the great beast's back. Buckbeak shook his head slightly, as if eager to get going. Harry wasn't sure where to hold on: everything in front of him was covered in feathers.

"Go on, then!" Hagrid roared, slapping the hippogriff's hindquarters.

Without warning, twelve-foot wings flapped open on either side of Harry; he just had time to seize the hippogriff around the neck before he was soaring upward. It was nothing like a broomstick, and Harry knew which one he preferred. The hippogriff's wings beat uncomfortably on either side of him, catching him under his legs and making him feel he was about to be thrown off, the glossy feathers slipped under his fingers and he didn't dare get a stronger grip. Instead of the smooth action of his Nimbus Two Thousand, he now felt himself rocking backward and forward as the hindquarters of the hippogriff rose and fell with its wings.

Buckbeak flew him once around the paddock and then headed back to the ground: this was the bit Harry had been dreading. He leaned back as the smooth neck lowered, feeling he was going to slip off over the head, then felt a heavy thud as the four ill-assorted feet hit the ground. He just barely managed to hold on, nearly lying on Buckbeak's back. He struggled to an upright position as the creature slowed to a stop, ruffling its wings as they bent to rest at its sides.

"Good work, Harry!" roared Hagrid as everyone except Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle cheered. "Okay, who else wants a go?"

Harry dismounted Buckbeak shakily. The hippogriff seemed to notice something was wrong as it cocked its head at him curiously, one great orange eye seeming to peer into his soul.

Emboldened by Harry's success, the rest of the class climbed cautiously into the paddock. Hagrid untied the hippogriffs one by one, and soon people were bowing nervously all over the paddock. Neville ran repeatedly backward from his, which didn't seem to want to bend its knees. Ron and Hermione practiced on the chestnut, while Harry stood back and watched, trying to suppress the tremors running though his body. He wished he had put on a sweater that morning.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had taken over Buckbeak. He had bowed to Malfoy, who was now patting his beak, looking disdainful. Harry had a sudden thought: what if Malfoy was stupid enough to insult the hippogriff? He edged closer to the blonde, hoping he wasn't planning something to ruin Hagrid's lesson.

"This is very easy," Malfoy drawled, loudly. "I knew it must have been, if Potter could do it... I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you?" he said to the hippogriff. "Are you, you great ugly brute?"

Even before Malfoy had finished his sentence Harry found himself sprinting between the hippogriff and the blonde, shoving Malfoy out of the way. His arms raised instinctively, sheltering his head as the hippogriff reared up, steely talons flashing as it struck out. A searing pain sprouted from his left arm as a talon dug into his flesh. He bit his lip to keep from crying out, tasting blood as he fell to the ground, cradling his arm to his body. Buckbeak seemed to have realized his mistake as his head appeared in Harry's vision, nudging his neck slightly. The hippogriff then lifted his head to glare at Malfoy, who had gone white and was scrambling backwards, sprawled out on the ground.

Harry drew breath in a hiss, pushing himself up off the ground. Why had he just done that? His brain was too fuzzy with pain to try to find an answer.

He glanced over at Malfoy, who had risen to his feet as well and was giving him the most incredulous look. He would've laughed if he wasn't hurting so much.

Hagrid rushed over, closely followed by the rest of the class. They crowded around, whispering animatedly. Lavender and Parvati in particular were shooting him knowing glances in-between their whispers. Ron and Hermione looked at him worriedly. Everyone seemed to be talking at once; it was overwhelming, and he instantly wanted to escape.

He closed his eyes, trying to shut all the voices out. He hugged his arm to his body as warm blood soaked through his clothes.

Suddenly he felt himself scooped into a very large pair of arms. His body stiffened and his eyes snapped open, looking into Hagrid's pale, worried face.

"M'fine," he mumbled, trying to console the giant man. He really did feel fine now; the pain had disappeared as quickly as it had come. It was just the voices that were bothering him.

"-gotta get yeh outta here..." Hagrid was saying.

"Hagrid, I'm fine, really," Harry said, slightly annoyed. "I can walk."

Hagrid didn't seem to be listening, though, as he ran towards the paddock gate, Hermione holding it open for him, and up the slope toward the castle.

Harry decided not to complain any more as he was suddenly feeling very weak. He didn't know if he would've been able to make the journey up to the Hospital Wing by himself.

Harry must've blacked out as the next time he opened his eyes he found himself lying on a bed, staring up at the familiar, incredibly boring white ceiling of the Hospital Wing. He groaned, annoyed. He hated that ceiling.

Suddenly he caught sight of his friends' faces, creased in worry.

"Hey, guys," he said, smiling. They smiled weakly back at him.

He used his right arm to push himself up, and looked down at his left arm, seeing it was wrapped up in a pristine white bandage. He stretched it out slightly, then more as he felt no pain.

Madame Pomfrey bustled over at that moment.

"Ah, Mr. Potter," she said, pursing her lips. "First day and already in trouble." She shook her head, giving an exasperated sigh.

"Your arm should be fine now, Mr. Potter," she continued. "But no strenuous activities for a day at least."

She grabbed hold of his arm and began undoing the bandages. In place of the gash was now a small white scar, one of many on his arm. Funny, he hadn't remembered having that many scars before. Not to mention his wrist looked much thinner than it had just this morning. Madame Pomfrey pointed her wand at his arm, murmuring an incantation. His arm must've been better because she nodded, pleased, before handing him his shirt and robe (they bore no signs of the incident they had just been through), which he donned gratefully. He hadn't been out long if she didn't have time to change him into one of those irritating hospital gowns.

"You're free to go," she concluded, face softening slightly in fondness, "but do try not to get hurt again, won't you, dear?"

"Of course, Madame Pomfrey," he replied contritely. It was always better to play along with the nurse, or she might decide to keep him stuck in the Hospital Wing.

Madame Pomfrey nodded, hurrying away. Hermione chose that moment to pounce on him.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're alright, Harry," she said tearfully, throwing her arms around his neck. Harry tensed slightly as his back twinged, though this was fortunately unnoticed by his bushy-haired friend. "I was so worried."

"Yeah, mate," Ron said. "Why'd you save Malfoy anyway?"

Harry shrugged. "I dunno, it all just happened before I knew what was going on."

Ron shook his head sadly. "I know you have a thing for saving people, Harry, but that git could've used some pain."

"Ron!" Hermione chided, elbowing him sharply.

He frowned at her. "Well he deserves it," he replied defensively.

Harry could see Hermione's face darken, and he glanced at the clock in the Hospital Wing. As they both made to argue he burst in, "Let's go to dinner."

They both agreed, for his sake, and Harry happily left the bed and the Hospital Wing behind. He still felt terrible, but at least his arm was intact.

"I really hope they don't fire Hagrid," Hermione said worriedly.

Harry frowned. "They wouldn't! I've been hurt worse during Quidditch. And besides, it was Malfoy's fault anyway."

"I hope you're right, Harry," Hermione replied, obviously not convinced. Ron still seemed to be mad, and walked in moody silence.

They were among the first to reach the Great Hall. They had hoped to see Hagrid there, but he was absent.

"Well, you can't say it wasn't an interesting first day back," Ron said gloomily as they took seats at the Gryffindor table.

Harry was watching the Slytherin table. A large group, including Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle was huddled together, deep in conversation. Malfoy kept glancing at him. Harry was sure they were cooking up their own version of what had happened.

Harry stared at the bountiful food at the table, feeling repulsed by even the thought of eating after looking at the gaggle of snakes, plotting. Even Ron wasn't eating, and he was always hungry. He sighed, resting his face in his hands and ignoring the feeling of being watched.

They went up to the crowded Gryffindor common room shortly and tried to do the homework Professor McGonagall had given them, but all three of them kept breaking off and glancing out of the tower window.

"There's a light on in Hagrid's window," Harry said suddenly.

Ron looked at his watch.

"If we hurried, we could go down and see him. It's still quite early..."

"I don't know," Hermione said slowly, and Harry saw her glance at him.

"I'm allowed to walk across the grounds," he said pointedly. "My arm's fine, and Sirius Black hasn't got past the dementors yet, has he?"

So they put their things away and headed out of the portrait hole, glad to meet nobody on their way to the front doors, as Harry truthfully wasn't sure they were supposed to be out.

The grass was still wet and looked almost black in the twilight. When they reached Hagrid's hut they knocked, and a voice growled, "C'min."

Hagrid was sitting in his shirtsleeves at his scrubbed wooden table, Fang's head in his lap. One look told them that Hagrid had been drinking; there was a pewter tankard almost as big as a bucket in front of him and he was slumped over the table, bloodshot eyes hazily looking up at them.

"'Spect it's a record," he said thickly. "Don' reckon they've ever had a teacher who lasted on'y a day before."

"But you haven't been fired, Hagrid!" gasped Hermione.

"Not yet," said Hagrid miserably. "But it's only a matter o' time, i'n't it? After 'Arry..."

"I'm fine Hagrid, it was just a scratch," Harry said consolingly as he sat down.

"Yeh di'n't look fine to me, Harry... Blood e'rywhere..." Hagrid continued guiltily. "School gov'nors have bin told, o' course. They reckon I started too big. Shoulda left hippogriffs fer later... done flobberworms or summat... Jus' thought it'd make a good firs' lesson... 'S all my fault..."

"It's all Malfoy's fault, Hagrid!" said Hermione earnestly.

"Yeah, Hagrid," Harry added, "you said hippogriffs are proud: they'll attack if you insult them. It's Malfoy's problem that he wasn't listening. We'll tell Dumbledore what really happened."

"Yeah, don't worry, Hagrid, we'll back you up," said Ron.

Tears leaked out of the crinkled corners of Hagrid's beetle-black eyes. He grabbed both Harry and Ron and pulled them into a bone-breaking hug. Harry clenched his teeth until his jaw hurt, body rigid in an effort to keep from calling out in pain.

"I'm glad yeh're alrigh', Harry... was so worried..." Hagrid sniffled.

"I think you've had enough to drink, Hagrid," Hermione said firmly. She took the tankard from the table and went outside to empty it.

"Ar, maybe she's right," said Hagrid, letting go of Harry and Ron, who both staggered away, nursing their ribs. Hagrid heaved himself out of his chair and followed Hermione unsteadily outside. They heard a loud splash.

"What's he done?" Harry asked nervously as Hermione came back in with the empty tankard.

"Stuck his head in the water barrel," said Hermione, putting the tankard away.

Hagrid came back, his long hair and beard sopping wet, wiping the water out of his eyes.

"Tha's better," he said, shaking his head like a dog and drenching them all. "Listen, it was good of yeh ter come an' see me, I really-"

Hagrid stopped dead, staring at Harry as though he's only just realized he was there.

"WHA D'YEH THINK YOU'RE DOIN', EH?" he roared, so suddenly that they jumped a foot in the air. "YEH'RE NOT TO GO WANDERIN' AROUND AFTER DARK, HARRY! AN' YOU TWO! LETTIN' HIM!"

Hagrid strode over to Harry, grabbed his shoulder, and steered him to the door.

"C'mon!" Hagrid said angrily. "I'm takin' yer all back up ter school, an' don' let me catch yeh walkin' down ter see me after dark again. I'm not worth that!"