C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

Chapter XVIII: Hagrid

There was something peculiar, Cassy found, in talking to Harry that she rarely found with anyone else. It was almost impossible not to take his advice; so when he told her to open up more, she had, and when he told her to think about how lucky she was to have even met Alphard, let alone have him for fourteen-years, she did that too. Despite waking up at six the next morning, Cassy felt more alert and alive than she had in a long time. She did not get up and read, or begin her day as she always did, but rather she lay there and thought over the memories of the very man she had avoided mentioning for so many months. He had never left her thoughts, but it was the first time Cassy had stopped and simply considered her memories for what they were.

Coolly confident and self-assured was what Cassy would have described herself to be at eleven-years-old. There was not a point in time she could pin to say when insecurities had begun to creep in, let alone take over. Slowly, she realised many things, things that did not match up at all. Her confidence was misplaced, her anger too spontaneous, her friends were too distant, and her mind was too cautious. It had been too long since she had tried, really tried, to better herself as she had always done.

Her apparent hobby of Occulmency was half-hearted at best. She would wager that if she had put as much effort into it as she normally would have she would have been certain she had blocked Professor Snape's probing mind the night before. However, she had the barest flicker of feeling in her mind instead and was no closer to learning Legitimacy than she had been at five-years-old. She was not herself at all. She needed to get her mind into gear.

She needed to bring her sinking ship back to the shore.

Detention with Professor Snape was arduous. She scrubbed cauldrons for an hour, her hands red raw and aching by the time she had finished. Her hand stung where the fresh letters etched into the back of her skin had been forced to bend and break. They threatened to bleed, but were not yet deep enough to do so. Beside her, Shandy worked. He scrubbed with as much effort as she was, to her surprise. It was even more shocking that he had not confessed it had been her to curse him, but the punishment was weak by any means and he was surely to be in trouble for aggravating her so thoroughly anyway. Malfoy was praised because he was Professor Snape's Godson; she could not even begin to consider how he would treat his other students because they kept to themselves as a rule and Cassy had scarcely seen a Slytherin in trouble. Shandy did not look at her and nor she at him.

Beyond the initial instructions, there was no conversation between the three occupants. Instead, Professor Snape marked papers silently, only the furious scrubbing of the brush against iron, or the occasional turn of a page filled the room.

When she was dismissed, her cheeks flushed from the low groaning of her stomach, Cassy finally itched her hand manically. She was careful not to pull at the split skin, but the irritation that she had pushed aside for an hour already was unbearable. Once she reached the Great Hall, she met with Harry, Neville, and Hermione to head to Charms. Neville handed her a roll he had snatched from the table and she picked it apart on the way as he promised to get her another next time too. Neither he nor Hermione asked where she had been. Harry had most likely filled them in in her absence and Cassy was relieved that no one had made a commotion over it, although she was certain neither quite understood how it had got to that point to begin with.

Even though there had been several points in the day where Cassy was certain Hermione was about to mention the incident, she did not and instead trailed onto asking mundane questions, such as being passed the salt, or if Cassy had seen her book. There was a distinct look in Hermione's eyes that Cassy had long since identified as concern, but the other was determined not to let it show any further. She did not reprimand her and it was not until Harry cornered Cassy later that afternoon that she understood why.

'I didn't tell them exactly what happened,' he admitted. 'I just said you got caught in a fight with Shandy. I didn't know how much you would appreciate me saying.'

Cassy let out a small hum and thanked him. With no harm done, neither saw the point in admitting how far the fight had gone. She would one day, but with her temper still higher than it should be and with her next detention only a matter of minutes away, there was really no benefit in being that honest right then.

Cheekily, and somewhat lowly, Cassy had found the perfect way to buffer the torrent of questions Neville, Hermione, and Ginny were ready to fire at her at eleven that night after Professor Umbridge's detention. Before Hermione could say anything, Cassy had moved her left hand down to cradle her bleeding right, and Hermione's instincts had quelled her anger just enough to retreat for a salve and bandages.

Neville's lips were curled downwards. He asked her why she did not tell them of the argument and Cassy shook her head.

'It's fine. I just have a few detentions,' she said. She brushed off Ginny's eager queries. It was barely a duel, she maintained, it was just a squabble. Perhaps the lie came too easily to her lips, but it was perhaps because it was not really a lie at all that she found herself smiling through it. No one had been hurt, Harry was right, and she would certainly never do it again, at least not so unreasonably or on someone so petty.

It was not until late that evening, when Harry and Hermione had gone to bed and Ginny had once again sneaked out at the stroke of midnight to meet her boyfriend, that Cassy knew whatever it was on Neville's mind he was unwilling to let it go. He had glanced at her continuously since lunch and grinned whenever she caught his eye. Bemused, she had quickly blocked out the thought and in turn ignored his stares well into the evening. Her attention remained on the homework she was checking for Ginny, her wand twirled absently in the other hand and Crookshanks had made himself at home precariously balanced on her outstretched legs.

Yet, none of that seemed to deter Neville.

'You told him, didn't you?' he teased.

'Told who what?' replied Cassy distantly as she corrected a misspelling.

'Harry!' coaxed Neville gleefully.

'Told Harry what?' she muttered back. Ginny and Ron both never crossed the 't'.

'That you like him, of course!'

'Like who – ?' Cassy paused. Slowly, she turned to him with a very flat expression fixed firmly to her face. 'Excuse me?'

Neville bobbed in his seat, obviously overjoyed at the prospect. 'Well, you've certainly been a lot more cheerful today! He went to find you yesterday, so something good must have happened!'

Cassy squinted. 'Not at all. Sorry to burst your bubble, but Harry and I are just friends. He has no interest in me that way anyway.'

He deflated with a small 'oh' and sank back into his seat. Then, 'When are you going to tell him?'

'Neville.'

'Well! You can't just not. It's been ages now,' he said with a cheeky smile.

Cassy threw a cushion at him. 'I suppose you are the Master of Relationships now?'

'No,' he shrugged, 'but you're the one who is supposed to be calm and fearless. I know I'm useless.'

'You are not useless, Neville. You just need a bit of confidence. Magic responds to it, you know that.' She gave him a pointed stare, but he merely shrugged again.

'Try telling me that next DA meeting.'

Cassy returned to the paper in front of her. She needed to find him some good motivation, that was all.

'So when are you going to tell him?'

Cassy through down the quill.

'Neville, no!'

With a short note at breakfast to concede that Cassy would have to make up for the day off on Friday instead, detention the next day with Professor Snape was cancelled. Despite her concern, she would have to miss Harry and Ron's match, even the Head of Slytherin was not as unyielding as to miss his own House's first Quidditch game of the season.

As she eyed Ron warily, Cassy was not so certain she even wanted to watch the match anymore. Although always pale, Ron's face had lost all colour and even his freckles seem to fade to a stark white as he slumped at the table not far from her. Harry shuffled down to speak to him, but Ron did not seem to be listening at all. He was all ready dressed in his kit. His broom had been quickly shoved under the table, out of sight, as if that alone was what had caught the hall's attention.

'He looks like he might keel over,' mumbled Neville into his porridge.

'He looks even worse than Harry did before his tournament,' added Cassy.

Harry, having heard the pair muttering, turned to them. His pointed stare fell into more of a grimace as even he could not deny Ron's dire appearance. When Neville shrugged unhelpfully in response, Harry turned his attention determinedly to the slumped body once again.

'You must eat something,' insisted Harry. 'Trust me, it won't help you if you don't.'

With one eye on her brother, Ginny leant forward across the table to Cassy and Neville. She jerked her head between them and they turned to the Slytherin table behind. Immediately noticeable was the shining gold against the silver and green House scarves they had donned for the match. The badges were crowns, they shimmered in the early daylight and where just large enough that they could be read from such a distance.

'Weasley is our King' was etched onto the surface of each and every one, quoting their newest taunt.

A majority of them had a badge on their chests. Each shining, but one in particular looked as though it had been recently polished and kept with the upmost care. A pearly white smile split across his face as he flashed the badge at his friends and they cackled loudly, regardless of having their own. Despite the new understanding Cassy had of herself, she still had unadulterated loathing at the sight of Malfoy's face.

Neville and Hermione visibly winced.

'Fred and George said that he managed to save spectacularly last practise, all he needs to do is do it in a real match and he'll be set for the rest of the season. His problem is nerves,' said Ginny as she openly scowled at the Slytherins. Many of them had turned their heads, eyeing the scarlet-clad table for signs of flaming-red-hair. When the prying eyes met Ginny's, they flashed their badges at her, but the threat of her wand very visible on the table in front made many think twice before jeering a second time.

Hermione winced again.

'What's wrong?' asked Neville.

She shifted and pressed her lips thinly together. Hushed, she said, 'I heard Ron telling Harry that it was a fluke yesterday. Apparently, he slipped off his broom when no one was looking and accidentally kicked the Quaffle away.'

Everyone deflated. Suddenly, the great yellow lion hat that sat on Luna's head opened its massive jaws and let out a spectacular roar. Only the first and second-years bothered to jump and turn in surprise. The rest of the school had long since become accustomed to the bizarre headwear she insisted on donning each and every match Gryffindor played that was not against Ravenclaw.

'I hope Gryffindor wins,' said Luna airily, as if not having heard their whispers at all.

'With the Slytherins wearing badges like that we have no choice but to win,' grumbled Ginny.

The taunting echoed down the hall with mocking catcalls and whistles as the Gryffindor Quidditch team rose to ready themselves. Fred and George sneered at anyone who eyed their brother too long, while Harry focused on hauling Ron from the room as discreetly as possible, one hand on his arm and his other holding both their brooms. Johnson kept her head high as she passed the Slytherin captain, but Cassy could not help but notice that even she seemed resigned to defeat with the slight drag in her usual confident strut.

Chants and whistles begun again as soon as the remaining students of all four houses piled into the grounds. The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students filled the stands somewhat disinterestedly. It had been a long time since anyone had come to watch a match that was so certainly decided before it had even begun. In the mass of Slytherins on the opposite side of the stands – Professor Sprout had not let the two houses occupy the same side in fear of a fight breaking out mid-match, Cassy could see Zambini and Daphne Greengrass. Parkinson stood by to one side with Tracy Davies and Millicent Bulstrode, but the other fifth-year students seemed to be lacking somewhat.

'Apparently,' began Cassy as she and her friends piled into the middle rows of the stands, 'Grabbe and Goyle have been made the new Slytherin Beaters.'

'Who did you hear that from?' asked Ginny in surprise.

'Astoria,' said Cassy.

'I still don't quite understand your friendship with her,' said Hermione, frowning. 'Where did it come from? How did you even meet? She's two years younger than us.'

'I don't find it strange. Cassy always manages to gather friends oddly,' shrugged Neville.

'Accidentally,' corrected Cassy. 'Besides, we spoke a few times as children, although she always annoyed me. You should all try having friends in other Houses, they do not define someone so completely as to be good or evil, you know. Look at Wormtail.'

Hermione hummed thoughtfully.

Cassy thought that Hermione might have understood what she had meant, but Ginny had clearly purposely missed the point. She nodded along and admitted it would be good to know what the Slytherins are up to, and while Cassy often thought it herself, it was not exactly what she had meant by it and Ginny's grinned cheekily at her. With a half-lidded glare, she turned to Neville, who snickered back at her.

Somewhere between the swelling crowd and the roaring cheers of the two teams filing onto the pitch, Michael Conner had joined them with a disinterested expression upon his face. He surveyed the teams as they flew high into the air.

'Hoping for a quick fire win? You've got a solid team, not as good as Ravenclaw, obviously, but your brother is a bit of a dampener, isn't he?' said Conner idly.

Ginny elbowed him hard in the ribs. 'Shut up!'

Despite the want of each and every Gryffindor to prove the other Houses wrong, with the stark-white form of Ron hung stiffly fifty-feet in the air it was difficult to gather morale. On the other side of the pitch, the Slytherins had no issue unleashing screams and cheers as their players swooped and dived, weaved their way through the swarming red of their rivals. The Quaffle passed easily between the Slytherins, until Katie Bell shot between them. She threw the ball to Johnson and back again before a blind Bludger from Crabbe.

'What a nasty shot!' called Lee Jordon from the stands. 'Okay, over to Johnson again, then a lovely shot Fred Weasley.'

Beneath the constant cries of enthusiasm from the commentator, a low rumble echoed through the stadium. It grew louder and clearer. Cassy strained her ears to distinguish. The hum of noise began to dim as more and more people noticed the continuous buzz. Words began to filter through and Cassy realised the Slytherin House were singing joyfully.

Weasley cannot save a thing,

He cannot block a single ring,

That's why Slytherins all sing,

Weasley is our king!

There was a terrible silence amongst the Gryffindors in the stands. Suddenly, Ginny threw herself forward, nearly knocking the first-years in the row in front from their seats as she cupped her hands around her mouth.

'Come on, Ron!' she roared.

The rest of Gryffindor followed suit with cheers and screams to drown out the Slytherin chanting. Cassy knew it was too late. She did not need binoculars to see that Ron had all ready heard the song. He wobbled side to side in the air, shoulders high and head low. She clapped all the same and as the Quaffle exchanged back to Slytherin hands, she even let out a high whistle in encouragement. Ginny yelled again and Hermione began to join in. Neville's hands rung together in tense anticipation, while Luna's hat let out a deafening roar.

'Ten points to Slytherin!' called Lee Jordon, reluctantly.

Cassy sighed and her housemates groaned in defeat. Ron had flung himself too far left, his arms spread wide around him with no home of catching the incoming Quaffle. Each goal following was like pressing a stinging wound, unneeded and raw, especially as the chants became louder, a new verse for every goal. The well-rehearsed lines were becoming difficult to ignore; Gryffindor had quickly lost morale and support was dwindling, despite their best efforts to continue with a brave face.

'We're being annihilated,' grumbled Dean over Cassy's shoulder.

'Ron would be all right if the singing stopped!' snapped Hermione.

'We could always go and set Snape's cloak on fire, that worked well last time,' suggested Neville and while Cassy let out a loud laugh, the others peered in confusion, not having understood the reference at all.

Cassy turned her attention towards the sky. Harry and Malfoy circled above the stands, moving in opposite directions with a wide berth between them, which she suspected was in case one tried to shove the other from their broomstick. She did not need to look down when the crowd around her broke into thunderous applause. Luna's hat roared and Gryffindor had finally scored.

'Thirty points is nothing!' cried Ginny. 'We can make it up!'

There was a flinch in Harry's circling and suddenly he dived. Straight down he flew, Malfoy by his side. The cheers only raged louder as the rest of the school noticed them dive too, closer and closer to the ground. Cassy craned her neck as they passed thirty-feet, twenty-feet, and closer still without an ounce of concern. She saw Malfoy pull up from the steep dive and smirked, knowing Harry had all ready secured Gryffindor victory before his hand had clasped the Golden Snitch. Five-foot from the ground, Harry pulled level. His hand stretched high into the air and although the furiously beating wings were invisible to the crowd so far away, the sound was deafening. Despite all odds, Gryffindor had won their first match.

'He made it!' squeaked Hermione, her hands having risen to her mouth in fear and excitement.

'Of course he did,' grinned Cassy.

There was a shuddering gasp from the crowd and only then did Cassy register the crack that echoed through the stadium. Harry tumbled to the ground, his broom rolled beside him as a Bludger shot back into the air. Her head whipped around the Slytherin players and she growled lowly. Malfoy held a bat in his hand.

'Pathetic!' screamed Ginny. She scrambled over Cassy and Neville, almost pushing them into the next row in a bid to get closer to the front. She yelled it again, her hands cupped around her mouth in a bid to ensure Malfoy heard exactly what she thought about him.

Cassy struggled to pull her foot from the gap in the rows where it had slipped. She cast Neville a withering look that he returned with a small shrug, his eyes obscured from the hat Ginny had pushed down his head as she clambered over them.

'Next time Ginny does not sit with us,' stated Cassy, flatly.

'Agreed,' said Neville.

'Oh!' Hermione cried.

Cassy turned to her, before following her pointed finger. Down on the pitch, red and green had mixed, the bodies fumbling and flailing limbs visibly outstretched in a bid to land a blow.

'Are they fighting?' asked Luna.

'Harry punched him!' reported Hermione. 'He actually punched him.'

'Who?' questioned Cassy, unable to distinguish the players in their mass. She assumed Harry was somewhere in the fray of it all, but besides flashes of red-hair, it was hard to tell what part belonged to what body as everyone scrambled against one another.

'Malfoy! He punched Malfoy in the gut,' she said.

Cassy's eyebrows shot high onto her forehead, although she did not feel at all disapproving, nor particularly surprised by it. Her lips then thinned into a grim line. 'This is bad.'

Hermione nodded tensely.

'Why is this bad?' scoffed Ginny. 'He probably deserved it, especially after what he's been saying about you all month, Cassy.'

'It will not matter,' protested Cassy lowly.

'Why's that?' asked Neville.

Hermione nodded to the teachers' stand. 'Umbridge.'

The single word was enough for Neville and Ginny to grimace. Even Luna frowned somewhat as she turned her protruding eyes towards them once again. 'Madam Hooch is coming.'

The scuffle below was quickly separated. Cassy could see Harry now, held back by Katie Bell, who had helped wrangle one of the twins backward through the fight it seemed. The other was in a heated dispute with Professor McGonagall, who seemed not to be listening as she flicked her fingers and forced all three boys to slink behind her and strode off the pitch with them in tow. Professor Snape was besides Malfoy and the other Slytherins. The conversation did not seem nearly as heated, although Malfoy's hand was cupped against his nose, but whether that was genuine or not Cassy could not decide.

Boos and hisses flooded the grounds as the retreating students grumbled on their way back to castle. It did not take long for the crowd to break apart once the teams had left the pitch, although no one seemed too keen that their entertainment had ended so soon. Cassy and her friends bid good-bye to Luna, promising to see her at dinner once they had found Harry and the twins again. They weaved in and out of the clustered grounds that lined the halls. Gryffindor seemed in an odd state between excitement and trepidation and no one was certain if the radio should be brought out as usual and snacks to be gathered from the kitchens, or if they were to sit and wait in silence for the ultimately bad news that was sure to come.

Meeting at a point in the middle of unrestrained chatter and pockets of laughter, the common room was full of waiting students. Every time the door opened, all heads would turn in expectation, ready to pounce and ask what had happened. Cassy did not bother turning at the sound. She was certain that if her three friends were to step forward, she would know by the shire excitement that would surely explode amongst the students. Instead, she, Neville, Hermione, and Ginny sat at their small table in the corner, out of direct sight.

'He must have done something,' said Hermione, frowning.

'Harry doesn't just hit people,' agreed Neville.

'Fred and George probably would if you annoy them just enough. I can't think what Malfoy would have said though. They were really going for him,' added Ginny.

Whatever it was that had been said, no one had figured out. When the Gryffindor Quidditch Team finally emerged, they kept quiet and to themselves, with no sign of fuelling the excited rumours that had begun almost instantaneously.

Johnson stepped towards the table.

'Is Harry back?' she asked Cassy, grimly.

Cassy shook her head. 'There has not been a sign of him.'

Johnson sighed heavily and dropped herself down into a spare chair by the fire. She dug the palms of her hands into her eyes. 'It took forever to get him to even turn up to training. If he's gone and got himself suspended for the next match… we will never win the House Cup. This is my only chance,' she groaned to herself. Katie Bell patted her sympathetically on the shoulder.

'Where's Ron?' asked Ginny, suddenly.

Craning her neck, Cassy could not see him in the common room. Upon reflection, she could not recall seeing him at all. She hummed lowly to herself and imagined where he had hauled himself to after the match. His face had all ready been visibly flushed in shame as he played; she doubted he would be returning soon if fear of heckles and taunts.

'Should I go and look in the boys' dorms?' offered Neville.

'Don't,' said Hermione. 'He hasn't come back yet.'

'I wouldn't either after that performance,' said Ginny, pursing her lips together tightly. 'I don't understand where the nerves are coming from though. He's always fine at home. He never has any issues… He'll turn up, as long as he isn't drowning himself in the shower like Oliver Wood did in my first-year.'

Had it been a different atmosphere, Cassy might have offered a smile at Ginny's poor joke.

Then, enticing a sudden roar of noise from the Quidditch Team, the portrait hole opened and three scarlet-clad figures stepped through. Instantly, Cassy noted the upturned lips and the flattened eyes; sadness and anger mixed together clearly on the faces of Fred and George, but Harry's expression was harder to read, although much the same.

The three Chasers swarmed around them, demanding an explanation. Harry slipped between them and slumped down into the empty seat between Hermione and Neville. His arms rose to the table and he buried his face in them without a word.

'What happened?' demanded Alicia Spinnett.

George refused to meet her gaze. 'We've been banned for life.'

There was a resounding silence.

The eavesdropping students who had turned to listen turned away. There were various levels of interest and shock, but as the seconds ticked by, reality set it for everyone; their team had lost three players in one foul moment. There was no way Gryffindor could win the Quidditch Cup with just three Chasers and a Keeper who could not save a single throw.

'What do you mean?' squawked Johnson.

'As in, Umbridge decided we can't play anymore. We're banned from Quidditch for life,' snapped Fred. He shrugged Bell's lax hands from him and stalked over to the fireplace, before he dropped himself into Johnson's vacated seat. The First-years around him scattered nervously.

'McGonagall was going to give us detentions, by Umbridge swooped in and prattled on about this new decree she passed. Apparently, she now had supreme say in all punishments. Nothing can be done about it,' added George, as he moved to join his brother.

It was rare that gossip did not travel quickly within the castle's walls. With only the company of those within it, students tended to feed off the latest story spun or tattled tale, so much that when dinner arrived that evening, it was of no surprise to anyone that the entire school seemed to know if Gryffindor's plight. Equally as unsurprising, was the news that Malfoy had merely received a detention with his Head of House for his taunts against the Weasley's and Harry's mother.

Although Harry refused to repeat exactly what had been said, no one doubted that Malfoy deserved the punch Harry had landed squarely on his right cheek bone. The purple patch of skin was easily visible across the hall and even more so with the loud coos and whimpers of sympathy that seemed to escape Pansy Parkinson's mouth every time she dabbed it lightly with a cloth through the meal.

The sight was enough for Cassy to push her plate away from her. A sneer passed over her face before she turned her attention elsewhere, eager to prevent any prying eyes from seeing her obvious contempt. With Professor Umbridge having ultimate control of punishments, Cassy knew she needed to remove anything that might trigger Professor Snape to let slip of the incident two days prior. While he had been strangely lenient with her – of which, she believed she was beginning to formulate a reasoning for – Professor Umbridge would not have any such remorse and Cassy would have her wand snapped and be on the first train to London before the day was through.

Carefully, she glanced at the Potions professor. Although it was difficult for even her to reason, she thought that perhaps he had taken pity on her and that was why his punishment was decidedly weak in comparison to the barrage she had expected. Cassy was not convinced that sympathy was an emotion Professor Snape could comprehend beyond its textbook definition, but it was the closest reason she had to explaining a mere two weeks of detentions. Professor Snape was a man of the Dark Arts. He was a former Death Eater and had dabbled, that much Cassy was certain from Mr Malfoy – he was no longer Lucius. It was possible, although she laughed to herself at the thought of it, that perhaps he had understood the allure and unconscious recall such spells had on one so young. A Death Eater at seventeen would surely have felt the call of such magic far stronger than she had.

Empathy aside, the other reason Cassy had conjured had been related to the Headmaster. Cassy knew a lot of the Order; she was the daughter of the keeper of their headquarters; the best-friend to the one he was so keen to protect. It would surely be chaos if she were to be expelled. Her friends were likely all under the same careful consideration. They had to be kept out of the eyes of the Ministry and away from the streets as much as possible.

There was no clean way to know if either theory was correct and Cassy was not willing to push her luck to see how far Professor Snape's patience would bend to try. Nor was she eager to encourage Professor Umbridge's careful watch or enlarge her self-satisfied smile and made sure to leave her meal early enough for her detention that she could not possibly be penalised.

As it was, she need not have bothered, for Professor Umbridge was in far too good of a mood to have noticed any lateness. She called with a sugary voice for Cassy to enter. It was only then she looked up from her work, without so much as a glance towards the clock. She beamed.

'Take a seat. The same as last time, please,' she said, her voice particularly cheerful. It was as though having Harry banned from the one joy he had left had filled her with infallible joy.

It appeared that the black quill had finally cleanly cut through Cassy's pale skin. Blood easily bubbled over the raised skin. The white hot searing that flared with every curling letter numbed into a faint itch. Blood pressed against the underside of her hand, smeared across the page and threatened to ware away another layer of skin as the writing became gradually more uneven with tired muscles and finely coated blood.

Cassy was thankful her writing was so consistent.

It was only an hour-and-a-half later that Professor Umbridge called an end to the detention. She did not seem to care that the lines were scarcely legible as the ink failed to settle, but rather she inspected Cassy's hand distantly with a pleased little smile. Instead, her attention seemed focused on the three letters she had spent a great deal of time writing at her desk. Each one was sealed with a wax stamp and the length almost equal if Cassy had counted the scratching of the quill right for each. There was no doubt they were for the Ministry. Most likely banning Harry, Fred, and George from Quidditch for life.

Cassy was quickly ushered from the room. Once the door had swung shut, she could hear Professor Umbridge's elated humming from within.

With pursed lips and a dipped brow, Cassy made her way back to the common room. She wiped the blood from her hand with a tissue from her pocket, quelling the flow just slightly. She was sure that when it healed it would be a stark white like Harry's.

Absently, she muttered the password as she halted outside of the Fat Lady. It swung open and Cassy quickly, instinctively, sidestepped as something green swept passed her. She watched it fall to the floor in a heap of cloth, bemused.

'Pick it up,' said Hermione quickly. 'We need to leave.'

Cassy turned and blinked.

'You'll need your coat. It might rain,' added Neville.

With a raised eyebrow, she asked, 'And we are going outside because…?'

'Because Hagrid's back,' said Harry. He strode to her, picked up her coat and stuffed it into her arms.

'Finally,' muttered Cassy, dressing herself as she walked. She stuffed the bloody tissue in her pocket and let Harry walk ahead with the Marauder's Map out and active. She mentally noted to take it off him later. The year so far had not exactly been shared custody of it.

No one crossed them as they exited to castle, nor appeared to be watching from the thin windows of the castle towers. Overhead, an owl hooted and Cassy glanced up to see three letters hanging from its feet.

'That is your banishment letter,' commented Cassy. One side of the Invisibility Cloak was wrapped around her and the other around Neville. Being as old as they were, they could no longer all fit snuggly under it and so had settled for making a screen to hide their backs from potential searching eyes within the castle as they hurried towards Hagrid's lit hut.

'Brilliant,' said Harry lowly.

'I can banish it for you,' offered Cassy lightly. 'The letter can be mysteriously lost in transit.'

'She'll just blame me anyway, I'm sure. Besides, it will just make her angrier and you have detention with her tomorrow,' he sighed, although his face had temporarily lit up at the idea.

Cassy looked thoughtful. 'I am not really fussed. She all ready praised the progress today, anyway.'

'How is your hand?' he asked, frowning down at her as he beat his fist against the large, wooden door. He turned to the keyhole suddenly. 'Hagrid, it's us!'

There was a gruff sound from within and Harry glanced back at Cassy for a reply. Before she could, the door opened and a heavy sigh greeted them.

Neville and Hermione gasped loudly.

'Hagrid!' cried Harry. 'What's wrong with your face?'

His bushy hair was slicked back, recently washed, revealing dark bruises and abrasions across his face and neck. His eye was forced shut by his swollen brow. The thick beard on his cheeks covered most of the discoloured skin, but even through the wiry hair more swellings were obvious.

Cassy moved her inspection down to his hand that rested on the open door. It was littered in cuts. Some were deep and old, whereas others were new and freshly bleeding beneath his haphazardly wrapped bandages.

'Let me re-wrap your hands,' demanded Cassy calmly, as she sidestepped.

Harry, Neville, and Hermione followed her in and Hagrid sighed again, but did not try to eject them again. He gently lowered himself down into one of the oversized chairs. The fire cracked, the hut filled with refreshing warmth from the chill of the autumn air outside. Without asking, Cassy filled a small cauldron of water from the tap and set it over the fire, before rummaging through the overhead cabinets on the tips of her toes for fresh bandages.

'There in that one there,' said Hagrid and pointed to a cupboard off to one side.

'Hagrid, what happened?' asked Harry, frowning.

Hermione busied herself making tea for them all.

'Nothin' much, just a bit of a rough patch, is all,' said Hagrid dismissively.

Cassy turned to him with a flat stare.

'Hagrid,' insisted Harry, warningly.

'Just did a bit 'o travelling, you know. Went and saw the sights,' he continued.

'And got assaulted whilst there?' muttered Cassy from atop a chair she was using to see into Hagrid's high shelves. She jumped down, bandages in hand.

'Is it to do with the giants you were visiting?' asked Hermione. She placed a large mug of tea in front of him.

Hagrid jumped, jostling the table and splashing the fresh tea. Hermione leaped back to avoid it and tutted before retreating to fetch a cloth.

'I don't know what yer mean,' stated Hagrid indignantly.

'Come on, Hagrid,' sighed Neville.

'It's not hard to figure out,' added Harry.

'Vanishing suddenly was ridiculously suspicious,' said Cassy.

She pulled the put of gently steaming water from the fireplace and placed it on a heat mat on the circular table. Neville appeared beside her, a clean cloth in hand and a bottle of disinfectant he had found on one of the shelves whilst Cassy had been searching for the bandages.

'I can clean wounds,' he offered with a smile. 'I was pretty accident prone as a child, so I know a bit about taking care of injuries.'

Cassy took a step back and left the bandages on the table for him, while she went to fetch her tea from the counter. Knowing Neville, he most likely knew more than he was willing to say and she was quite pleased to leave him to help when he knew he could. She then turned her attention back to Hagrid, who looked as though he was beginning to overcome his shock. Slowly, his one good eye lowered into a beady scowl.

'I have never met a bunch o' kids as nosey as yerselves. Too clever fer yer own good – that's no compliment, Cassy, yer can stop smirking,' grumbled Hagrid.

Cassy grinned at him. 'I do not know why you bother trying to lie, Hagrid. You know us well enough by now to know we will find out whatever we want to.'

He stared at her for a moment, before his beard began to twitch upwards at the sight of her cheeky smile and he sighed heavily, shaking his head. He reached out for the new tea Hermione brewed for him and thanked her with a smile, before settling the mug down comfortable in front of him, one hand held firmly in Neville's grasp.

'You lot are trouble, that's what yer are,' he muttered, sounding fond all the same.

'Where have you been, Hagrid? We haven't heard anything really since my trial,' said Harry.

Hagrid chocked. 'Your what?'

Harry blinked owlishly, the thought of someone not knowing his business shocked him. He began to explain the events of summer in sparse detail. He skimmed over the events, eager to hear what his friend had to say and tired of retelling the same tedious weeks over and over. Hagrid was stunned into silence. He spluttered when Harry rounded his tale of quickly with a flippant wave of his hand.

'I want to know where you've been,' insisted Harry. 'How did you end up like this?'

Taking a long sip from his mug, Hagrid began his long tale of absence. His face quickly lit up with a familiar far-away stare that Cassy recognised immediately as the smitten expression for only Madam Maxine. Sure enough, she had accompanied him on his task from Professor Dumbledore. They had pretended to be on the way to southern France on holiday to keep from prying eyes of any of the Headmaster's critics. They then turned eastwards and set on a long journey eastwards to the far mountains of Minsk.

'Hagrid,' interjected Cassy thoughtfully. 'Have you conjured an official story for all of this? Professor Umbridge will want to know where you have been.'

Hagrid stared blankly at her.

'She was asking where you had gone, she's the Defence professor and the supposed High Inquisitor. She's vile and will sack you before you can think of an excuse if she catches on to your lie,' added Harry quickly.

Hagrid ran a hand though his damp hair. 'Blimey. I'll say I needed some fresh air, or somthin' then.'

'There's fresh air all around here, Hagrid,' said Hermione and waved her hand to the window. 'It doesn't explain the injuries either.'

'I went on holiday and caught a French bug then, needed some treatment over there then. Don't you lot worry about nothin' like that. It'll be fine,' he shrugged. Without waiting for protest – for Hagrid knew them too well to think they would simply let his poor lying abilities slide – he continued on with his story. He told them how the journey had been slower than anticipated because for much of the trek through France they had had someone trailing after them. Careful not to speak of their plan and to continue on as normal, the pair had been forced deeper into southern France than excepted, but they slipped away from their follower around Dijon.

'Oh! I've been there on holiday,' interrupted Hermione with excitement.

'Didn't have much time to look around. We'd wasted enough time as it was, 'm not s'posed to do magic, really, so we had to hurry,' continued Hagrid. 'We chanced it after that and it wasn't until the Polish boarder we had a bit of trouble. Olympe was great though – she didn't complain once about walkin' or sleepin' rough. What a woman.

'Anyway, we ran inter some mad trolls an' I had a sligh' disagreement with a vampire in a pub, but everythin' was as smooth as we could 'ave hoped for. Then we trekked up the mountainside and had ter leave off with magic, Giants don't like it, yer see. That an' Dumbledore reckoned that You-Know-Who all ready sent a messenger of his own to them. We were all ready hard to miss, we didn't want ter bring more attention to ourselves with Death Eaters lurking about.'

Cassy took a long sip of her drink and Hagrid did the same. Harry leant eagerly forward.

'Then what?' he urged.

Hagrid shrugged and went to wave his hand flippantly, but Neville dragged it down back into the table. He appeared to be pulling some sort of thorn from Hagrid's thick skin.

'Sorry, Neville. We found 'em, the Giants, I mean,' he said. 'Just over a ridge. They'd made a den in the valley. Lit little fires everywhere, at least in comparison. Some of the Giants there were pushing twenty-five feet, I reckon.'

'How many were there?' asked Hermione.

'Seventy or eighty odd,' he replied. His face contorted slightly and Cassy frowned.

'They are endangered,' offered Cassy. 'That is not the worst possible number.'

Harry turned to her curiously, as though he had never heard of such a notion before.

'There used to be hundreds of tribes, about four-hundred-and sixteen at the peak of the fourteenth-century, it was thought. However, Giants are not supposed to live in close proximity to one another,' she explained.

'Dumbledore reckons it's our fault for makin' 'em live bunched up. Wizards made 'em leave their homes and retreat. They have to live together for their own protection, but they don't like it,' added Hagrid mournfully.

Neville paused and looked nervously up at him. 'Hagrid, Giants don't really… I mean, when they're together, they don't…'

'Yeah, they do,' sighed Hagrid heavily.

'Do what?' asked Harry.

'Kill one another,' said Hermione with a grimace. 'They don't have the best tempers.'

'What happened next?' queried Cassy. She was keen to move the conversation along before Hagrid's face crumpled any further.

He sighed. 'Once it was light, we went down ter see see 'em. Brought a gift Dumbledore had given us to give to the Gurg – '

'The what?' asked Neville.

'Gurg – the Chief,' he said. 'The biggest, ugliest, an' laziest one.'

They kept their eyes set on only the Gurg. The gift, a branch of everlasting Gubraithian fire, was held high about above their heads and was placed at his feet as they bowed. Karkus, the Gurg, did not speak English, Professor Dumbledore's kind greeting and offering meant nothing to him until a pair of Giants who did translated it. Cassy was privately impressed that the Giants had learnt English, given how far into Eastern Europe they were and how notoriously slow-minded they could be. Once Hagrid had explained what the present was, the Giants had been enamoured with it and he promised to bring them another gift the next day, careful not to over impose his presence; it was pivotal that the Giants knew the two would keep their promises, for Wizards and Giants had never gotten along, trust would be a slow and tedious task to build.

When they returned to the valley the next day, Karkus was sitting. His attention immediately flicked towards them and he listened to their retelling of what Professor Dumbledore had to say. In his hands was the Goblin forged helmet they had given as a gift. He did not speak and instead simply listened with great interest, many other Giants gathered around too to hear the dull murmur of the translation of their words. Hagrid had been hopeful that when they returned the next morning, Karkus would agree to help them, but everything then went wrong.

'A fight broke out that night,' explained Hagrid dully. 'When we went down the next morning, the snow was red and Karkus' head was on the bottom of the lake.'

Neville and Hermione gasped.

'There was a new Gurg, Golgomath. We didn't expect him to listen much, we hadn't bargained for a new Gurg so quickly, but we tried anyway.'

When Hagrid had attempted to give him another present that morning, he found himself hung by his feet high in the air by two giants before he had even got close to Gurg Golgomath. Hagrid sighed wistfully as he explained how Madam Maxine had shot a conjunctivitis hex at them and how the pair had been forced to flee far into the mountains. They had used magic to harm the Giants, there would be no way they would be accepted back to negotiate any longer. However, Hagrid had insisted that they could not leave just yet. Professor Dumbledore was relying on them, so they watched and waited for a chance to renegotiate. Although he did not say it, Cassy suspected the two were lying in hope that a new Gurg would arise, perhaps one that spoke English and had looked upon them favourably under Karkus. Soon, Hagrid's lips pursed and he frowned deeply, almost having lost his beady eyes in his bushy beard as he did.

'After a couple of days lyin' low and watchin', we saw somethin' we didn't want ter see,' he muttered.

'More deaths?' fretted Hermione.

Cassy took a long sip from her tea.

'Was the Gurg overthrown again?' asked Neville tensely.

'Death Eaters?' offered Harry.

'Exactly,' said Hagrid. He turned to nod at Harry. 'They didn't object ter all Wizards, just us. They brought him gifts and he didn't dangle him upside down. Me and Olympe decided to try and persuade the others to join us, didn't mean they all favoured You-Know-Who jus' because the Gurg did. Some hadn't wanted Golgomath as Gurg to start with.'

'How could you tell who they were?' asked Neville.

'Well, they were either being beaten, or hidin' in caves like we were. We thought we'd jus' go poking around at night and see if we could persuade some of them.'

Hermione bit her lip. 'That sounds awfully dangerous, Hagrid.'

Hagrid shrugged. It had not been the Giants they had been worried about, he explained, but rather the Death Eaters. If they were spotted, Voldemort would know what Professor Dumbledore was attempting to do, although he suspected Golgomath had all ready told them of them, and the Headmaster had asked them not to put their lives in anymore danger than necessary for their task. Despite knowing that the two Death Eaters were most likely searching the caves for them too, Hagrid and Madam Maxine had ventured out of hiding.

'It was hard to stop Olympe from jumpin' out and attacking them,' said Hagrid warmly. 'She's hard to calm once fired up, I reckon it's the French in her…'

There was silence for a moment as Hagrid's face became lax and his eyes suddenly misty. With his thoughts far away, Neville finally managed to tie the bandages around his hand with Hagrid finally having fallen still. After about thirty-seconds, Harry cleared his throat loudly.

'Did you convince anyone?' asked Harry.

'Er, well, we found some Giants in the sixth cave we visited. Three of them were bunched up in there. There wasn't room ter swing a kneezle. They were badly injured, but listened to what we had ter say. Had nothin' ter lose, I reckon. They didn't fancy Golgomath much at that point. We kept visitin' the caves, had about six or seven convinced at one point.'

'What do you mean "at one point"?' questioned Hermione tensely.

'Golgomath's lot raided the caves. The ones who survived didn't want anythin' ter do with us after that,' admitted Hagrid.

'So no one is coming then?' concluded Neville.

Hagrid shook his head and sighed heavily. With the warmth of the fire, his damp hair had somewhat dried and had sprung back into its tight curls. Many of the bruises on his face vanished with the volume, but his eye was still swollen shut and black. It looked fresher than the story he had told and Cassy frowned slightly, wondering what trouble Hagrid possibly could have gotten himself into to appear so beaten. He was a half-giant; half-giants were not as susceptible to injury as humans and that is what made Hagrid an ideal candidate for his position as Care of Magical Creatures professor. Even if he had been beaten by the giants and forced from the mountains, it had been months. He should have begun to heal.

'Hagrid,' began Hermione tentatively.

Snow had begun to fall outside. The crack in the floral curtains let the flurry of white show through as it slowly built on the windowsill. They needed to leave soon, or else their footprints would be too clear on the grounds if the snow grew much deeper.

Hagrid turned to Hermione.

'Did you hear anything about your mother while you were there?' she asked.

Hagrid's face immediately crumpled and Hermione spluttered as she tried to retract her words. Hagrid shook his head and waved off her concern.

'Dead,' he said. 'She died years ago. I can't remember her anyway. She wasn't much of a mother.'

'You still haven't explained how you got all these injuries though,' said Harry, 'or why you're back so late. Sirius said Madam Maxine was back ages ago. Where did you go?'

Hagrid visibly tensed and Cassy narrowed her eyes further. She knew he was hiding something, but he had just confirmed it for her that it was something he was certainly not supposed to have done.

Before he could speak, there was a sharp knock on the door.

'At this hour?' grumbled Hagrid.

Everyone's head shot towards the door. Through the covered window, the faint outline of a short, stout figure could be seen outside.

'It's her!' hissed Hermione.

In an instant, everyone was on their feet.

'Who?' demanded Hagrid quickly.

'Umbridge!' moaned Harry. He pulled the cloak from his chair and threw it over Cassy, Neville, and Hermione who had gathered at his side in a tight huddle. Once they vanished, Hagrid shoved their mugs into a cupboard and took one large stride to answer the door. It was impossible to see Professor Umbridge with Hagrid's huge form blocking out the door entirely. She was heard before she was seen, speaking his name tartly as she invited herself in. With her nose high in the air, she inspected his little hut.

'I don't mean to be rude, but who are you?' asked Hagrid, bemused.

'My name is Dolores Umbridge,' she said. Her eyes continued to meticulously sweep the length of the cabin. They brushed over the corner the four were hiding in twice before she settled them back on Hagrid.

'Right.'

'I am the Defence Against the Dark Arts Teacher and the High Inquisitor,' she said.

Hagrid made an enquiring noise, but she paid him no attention.

'Where have you been? How did you sustain those injuries?' she asked.

Hagrid cleared his throat and peered at the corner where the four were hiding. 'I, er, fell off a friend's broomstick while in France. You see, I don't normally ride brooms, too big, really. I got a bit beaten up, the broom didn't like me much. I came down with somethin', a nasty infection, they reckoned. Had to stay away for my health.'

Cassy almost sighed in relief. It was a poor lie, but it showed that at least Hagrid had put some thought into his excuse while they had been talking. While Professor Umbridge did not look at all convinced, she hoisted her handbag higher onto her shoulder and smiled a sickly sweet smile.

'I see. I must inform you that it is my responsibility to inform the Ministry of your late return and the unfortunate burden that I must inspect my fellow co-workers, so dare I say we will see each other again very soon,' she said.

'Inspect?' echoed Hagrid.

'Oh, yes,' she said, 'the Ministry is weeding the school, so to speak. Goodnight.'

The door shut swiftly and Hagrid was left to inspect her retreating form through the slither between the curtains. He nodded back at them and ran his hand through his hair.

'Hagrid,' said Hermione immediately. 'You need to be careful around her. What do you have planned for our lessons?'

Hagrid seemed to miss the way Hermione's hands wrung nervously in front of her as he grinned.

'Don't you worry about that. I've got something really special planned.'

Everyone groaned.

'Hagrid!'

I have not had a chance to write in a while because my dissertation was in and now I have exams coming up in two weeks. I delayed putting this out a bit to give myself more chance to get ahead with my chapters, but seeing as I need to concentrate on work for another two weeks anyway, a month is a long time to go without an update. I will just have to write more after it to put a good gap between my published and currently writing ones.

Anyway, this is quite a rehash of the book at the end, but seeing as it was not in the film I thought people might be a little less familiar with it than other scenes. It is something I feel should have been in the films because of the relevance to the Order and Hagrid's brother later on, but then fifth-year is my least favourite film anyway. Well, besides HBP in some senses, because, really, Ginny had no personality at all in that film. Not that I was her biggest fan at some points in the book then either, but they ruined her entirely…

Back on track, I hope you liked it! I have noticed that more people read the last chapter of my double update than read the first, so I do wonder if it all made sense to them or not. As always, review if you please.

Thanks!