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Ok, here is the right chapter ;) sorry
Chapter 12: Exams, predictions and Hagrid
My euphoria at winning the Quidditch Cup lasted at least a week. Even the weather seemed to be celebrating; as June approached, the days became cloudless and sultry, and all anybody felt like doing was strolling onto the grounds and flopping down on the grass with several pints of iced pumpkin juice, perhaps playing a casual game of Gobstones or watching the giant squid propel itself dreamily across the surface of the lake.
But they couldn't. Exams were nearly upon them, and instead of lazing around outside, the students were forced to remain inside the castle, trying to bully their brains into concentrating while enticing wafts of summer air drifted in through the windows. Even Fred and George Weasley had been spotted working;they were about to take their O.W.L.s (Ordinary Wizarding Levels). Percy was getting ready to take his N.E.W.T.s (Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests), the highest qualification Hogwarts offered. As Percy hoped to enter the Ministry of Magic, he needed top grades. He was becoming increasingly edgy, and gave very severe punishments to anybody who disturbed the quiet of the common room in the evenings. In fact, the only person who seemed more anxious than Percy was Hermione.
Harry, Ron and me had given up asking her how she was managing to attend several classes at once, but we couldn't restrain ourselves when we saw the exam schedule she had drawn up for herself. The first column read:
Monday
9 o'clock, Arithmancy
9 o'clock, Transfiguration
Lunch
1 o'clock, Charms
1 o'clock, Ancient Runes
"Hermione?" Ron said cautiously, because she was liable to explode when interrupted these days.
"Er — are you sure you've copied down these times right?"
"What?" snapped Hermione, picking up the exam schedule and examining it. "Yes, of course I have."
"Is there any point asking how you're going to sit for two exams at once?" said Harry.
"No," said Hermione shortly. "Have either of you seen my copy of Numerology and Gramatica?"
"Oh, yeah, I borrowed it for a bit of bedtime reading," said Ron, but very quietly.
Hermione started shifting heaps of parchment around on her table, looking for the book. Just then, there was a rustle at the window and Hedwig fluttered through it, note clutched tightly in her beak.
"It's from Hagrid," said Harry ripping the note open. "Buckbeak's appeal - it's set for the sixth."
"That's the day we finish our exams," said Hermione, still looking everywhere for her Arithmancy book.
"And they're coming up here to do it," said Harry, still reading from the letter. "Someone from the Ministry of Magic - and an executioner."
I looked up, startled.
"They're bringing the executioner to the appeal! But that sounds as though they've already decided!"
"Yeah, it does," said Harry slowly.
"They can't!" Ron howled. "I've spent ages reading up stuff for him, they can't just ignore it all!"
But I had a horrible feeling that the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures had had its mind made up for it by Mr. Malfoy. Draco, who had been noticeably subdued since Gryffindor's triumph in the Quidditch final, seemed to regain some of his old swagger over the next few days.
From sneering comments I overheard, Malfoy was certain Buckbeak was going to be killed, and seemed thoroughly pleased with himself for bringing it about. It was all I could do to stop myself for executing my threat of hitting Malfoy in the face on these occasions.
And the worst thing of all was that we had no time or opportunity to go and see Hagrid, because the strict new security measures had not been lifted, and Harry didn't dare retrieve his Invisibility Cloak from below the one-eyed witch.
Exam week began and an unnatural hush fell over the castle. The third-years emerged from Transfiguration at lunch-time on Monday limp and ashen-faced, comparing results and bemoaning the difficulty of the tasks they had been set, which had included turning a teapot into a tortoise.
Hermione irritated the rest by fussing about how her tortoise had looked more like a turtle, which was the least of everyone else's worries.
"Mine still had a spout for a tail, what a nightmare ..."
"Were the tortoises supposed to breathe steam?"
"It still had a willow-patterned shell, d'you think that'll count against me?"
Then, after a hasty lunch, it was straight back upstairs for the Charms exam. Hermione had been right; Professor Flitwick did indeed test them on Cheering Charms. Harry slightly overdid his out of nerves and Ron, who was partnering him, ended up in fits of hysterical laughter and had to be led away to a quiet room for an hour before he was ready to perform the Charm himself. Hermione and me did the spell correctly and we both received full marks.
After dinner, the students hurried back to their common rooms, not to relax, but to start revising for Care of Magical Creatures, Potions and Astronomy.
Hagrid presided over the Care of Magical Creatures exam the following morning with a very preoccupied air indeed; his heart didn't seem to be in it at all. He had provided a large tub of Flobberworms for the class, and told them that, to pass the test, their Flobberworm had to still be alive at the end of one hour.
As Flobberworms flourished best if left to their own devices, it was the easiest exam any of them had ever sat, and also gave Harry, Ron, Hermione and me plenty of opportunity to speak to Hagrid.
"Beaky's gettin' a bit depressed," Hagrid told them, bending low on the pretense of checking that Harry's flobberworm was still alive. "Bin cooped up too long. But still… we'll know day after tomorrow — one way or the other —"
They had Potions that afternoon, which wasn't a total disaster as I expected. My Confusing Concoction was perfect, and Snape, standing watch with an air of anger, scribbled something onto his notes before moving away. He wasn't looking so happy so I must have passed.
Then came Astronomy at midnight, up on the tallest tower; History of Magic on Wednesday morning, in which I scribbled everything uncle Moony had ever told me about medieval witch-hunts, while wishing I could have had one of his famous lemonade with me in the stifling classroom.
Wednesday afternoon meant Herbology, in the greenhouses under a baking-hot sun; then back to the common room once more, with sunburnt necks, thinking longingly of this time next day, when it would all be over.
Their second to last exam, on Thursday morning, was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Uncle Moony had compiled the most unusual exam any of them had ever taken; a sort of obstacle course outside in the sun, where they had to wade across a deep paddling pool containing a Grindylow, cross a series of potholes full of Red Caps, squish their way across a patch of marsh while ignoring misleading directions from a Hinkypunk, then climb into an old trunk and battle with a new Boggart.
"Excellent, Aurora," uncle Moony muttered as I climbed out of the trunk, grinning. "Full marks."
Flushed with my success, I hung around to watch Harry, Ron and Hermione. Harry did it wonderfull and received full marks to. Ron did very well until he reached the Hinkypunk, which successfully confused him into sinking waist-high into the quagmire. Hermione did everything perfectly until she reached the trunk with the Boggart in it. After about a minute inside it, she burst out again, screaming.
"Hermione!" said uncle Moony, startled. "What's the matter?"
"P-P-Professor McGonagall!" Hermione gasped, pointing into the trunk. "Sh-she said I'd failed everything!"
It took a little while to calm Hermione down. When at last she had regained a grip on herself, she, Harry, Ron and me went back to the castle. Ron was still slightly inclined to laugh at Hermione's Boggart, but an argument was averted by the sight that met them on the top of the steps.
Cornelius Fudge, sweating slightly in his pinstriped cloak, was standing there staring out at the grounds. He started at the sight of Harry.
"Hello there, Harry!" he said. "Just had an exam, I expect? Nearly finished?"
"Yes," said Harry. Hermione and Ron, not being on speaking terms with the Minister of Magic, hovered awkwardly in the background. I just looked past him, if I looked at him, I would probably punch him in the gut.
"Lovely day," said Fudge, casting an eye over the lake. "Pity… pity…"
He sighed deeply and looked down at Harry.
"I'm here on an unpleasant mission, Harry. The Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures required a witness to the execution of a mad Hippogriff. As I needed to visit Hogwarts to check on the Black situation, I was asked to step in."
"Does that mean the appeal's already happened?" Ron interrupted, stepping forward.
"No, no, it's scheduled for this afternoon," said Fudge, looking curiously at Ron.
"Then you might not have to witness an execution at all!" said Ron stoutly. "The Hippogriff might get off!"
Before Fudge could answer, two wizards came through the castle doors behind him. One was so ancient he appeared to be withering before their very eyes; the other was tall and strapping, with a thin back mustache. I gathered that they were representatives of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, because the very old wizard squinted toward Hagrid's cabin and said in a feeble voice, "Dear, dear, I'm getting too old for this… Two o'clock, isn't it, Fudge?"
The black-mustached man was fingering something in his belt; I looked and saw that he was running one broad thumb along the blade of a shining axe. Ron opened his mouth to say something, but Hermione nudged him hard in the ribs and jerked her head toward the entrance hall.
"Why'd you stop me?" said Ron angrily as we entered the Great Hall for lunch. "Did you see them? They've even got the axe ready! This isn't justice!"
"Ron, your dad works for the Ministry, you can't go saying things like that to his boss!" said Hermione, but she too looked very upset.
"As long as Hagrid keeps his head this time, and argues his case properly, they can't possibly execute Buckbeak…"
But I could tell Hermione didn't really believe what she was saying. All around them, people were talking excitedly as they ate their lunch, happily anticipating the end of the exams that afternoon, but Harry, Ron, Hermione and me, lost in worry about Hagrid and Buckbeak, didn't join in.
Harry's, Ron's and my last exam was Divination; Hermione's, Muggle Studies. We walked up the marble staircase together; Hermione left them on the first floor and Harry, Ron and me proceeded all the way up to the seventh, where many of our class were sitting on the spiral staircase to Professor Trelawney's classroom, trying to cram in a bit of last-minute studying.
"She's seeing us all separately," Neville informed us as we went to sit down next to him. He had his copy of Unfogging the Future open on his lap at the pages devoted to crystal gazing. "Have either of you ever seen anything in a crystal ball?" he asked them unhappily.
"Nope," said Ron in an offhand voice. He kept checking his watch; I knew that he was counting down the time until Buckbeak's appeal started.
"Just make something up, Neville. Something about death. She'll love that!" I said winking.
The line of people outside the classroom shortened very slowly. As each person climbed back down the silver ladder, the rest of the class hissed, "What did she ask? Was it okay?"
But they all refused to say.
"She says the crystal ball's told her that if I tell you, I'll have a horrible accident!" squeaked Neville as he clambered back down the ladder toward Harry, Ron and me, who had now reached the landing.
"That's convenient," snorted Ron. "You know, I'm starting to think Hermione was right about her" — he jabbed his thumb toward the trapdoor overhead — "she's a right old fraud."
"Yeah," said Harry, looking at his own watch. It was now two o'clock. "Wish she'd hurry up…"
"Ah, but Harry, the inner eye needs some time to put on his classes," I said in a dreamy voice.
The boys started laughing. Clad they could still take a joke.
Parvati came back down the ladder glowing with pride.
"She says I've got all the makings of a true Seer," she informed us. "I saw loads of stuff… Well, good luck!"
She hurried off down the spiral staircase toward Lavender.
"Ronald Weasley," said the familiar, misty voice from over their heads. Ron grimaced at Harry and me and climbed the silver ladder out of sight. Harry and me were now the only persons left to be tested. We settled ourself on the floor with our back against the wall, listening to a fly buzzing in the sunny window, our minds across the grounds with Hagrid. I love this, just sitting with Harry, next to him, our shoulders touching.
Finally, after about twenty minutes, Ron's large feet reappeared on the ladder.
"How'd it go?" Harry asked him, standing up.
"Rubbish," said Ron. "Couldn't see a thing, so I made some stuff up. Don't think she was convinced, though…"
"Meet you in the common room," Harry muttered as Professor Trelawney's voice called, "Harry Potter!"
"Good luck," I said.
"Thanks," he said.
After 30 minutes he came back, shaking his head.
"Complete disaster. Didn't see anything and I couldn't make up something. Oh well, it's only Divination. Good luck, Aurora, you're going to need it!" He said.
"Thanks," I took a deep breath and climbed the ladder.
The tower room was hotter than ever before; the curtains were closed, the fire was alight, and the usual sickly scent made me cough as I stumbled through the clutter of chairs and table to where Professor Trelawney sat waiting for me before a large crystal ball.
"Good day, my dear," she said softly. "If you would kindly gaze into the Orb… Take your time, now… then tell me what you see within it…"
I bent over the crystal ball and stared, stared as hard as I could, willing it to show me something other than swirling white fog, but nothing happened.
"Well?" Professor Trelawney prompted delicately. "What do you see?" The heat was overpowering and my nostrils were stinging with the perfumed smoke wafting from the fire beside them. I thought of what I told Neville, and decided to pretend.
"Er —" I said, "a dark shape… um…"
"What does it resemble?" whispered Professor Trelawney. "Think, now…"
I cast my mind around and it landed on Buckbeak.
"A Hippogriff," I said firmly.
"Indeed!" whispered Professor Trelawney, scribbling keenly on the parchment perched upon her knees. "My dear, you may well be seeing the outcome of poor Hagrid's trouble with the Ministry of Magic! Look closer… Does the Hippogriff appear to… have its head?"
"Yes," I said firmly.
"Are you sure?" Professor Trelawney urged me. "Are you quite sure, dear? You don't see it writhing on the ground, perhaps, and a shadowy figure raising an axe behind it?"
"No!" I said, starting to feel slightly sick.
"No blood? No weeping Hagrid?"
"No!" I said again, wanting more than ever to leave the room and the heat. "It looks fine, it's — flying away…" Professor Trelawney sighed.
"Well, dear, I think we'll leave it there… A little disappointing… but I'm sure you did your best."
Relieved, I got up, picked up my bag and turned to go, but then a loud, harsh voice spoke behind me.
"IT WILL HAPPEN TONIGHT."
I wheeled around. Professor Trelawney had gone rigid in her armchair; her eyes were unfocused and her mouth sagging.
"S — sorry?" I said.
But Professor Trelawney didn't seem to hear me. Her eyes started to roll. I sat there in a panic. She looked as though she was about to have some sort of seizure. I hesitated, thinking of running to the hospital wing — and then Professor Trelawney spoke again, in the same harsh voice, quite unlike her own: "THE DARK LORD LIES ALONE AND FRIENDLESS, ABANDONED BY HIS FOLLOWERS. HIS SERVANT HAS BEEN CHAINED THESE TWELVE YEARS. TONIGHT, BEFORE MIDNIGHT… THE SERVANT WILL BREAK FREE AND SET OUT TO REJOIN HIS MASTER. THE DARK LORD WILL RISE AGAIN WITH HIS SERVANT'S AID, GREATER AND MORE TERRIBLE THAN EVER HE WAS. TONIGHT… BEFORE MIDNIGHT… THE SERVANT… WILL SET OUT… TO REJOIN… HIS MASTER…"
Professor Trelawney's head fell forward onto her chest. She made a grunting sort of noise. I sat there, staring at her. Then, quite suddenly, Professor Trelawney's head snapped up again.
"I'm so sorry, dear," she said dreamily, "the heat of the day, you know… I drifted off for a moment…"
I sat there, staring at her.
"Is there anything wrong, my dear?"
"You — you just told me that the — the Dark Lord's going to rise again… that his servant's going to go back to him."
Professor Trelawney looked thoroughly startled.
"The Dark Lord? He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? My dear, that's hardly something to joke about… Rise again, indeed —"
"But you just said it! You said the Dark Lord —"
"I think you must have dozed off too, dear!" said Professor Trelawney. "I would certainly not presume to predict anything quite as far-fetched as that!"
I climbed back down the ladder and the spiral staircase, wondering… had I just heard Professor Trelawney make a real prediction? Or had that been her idea of an impressive end to the test?
Five minutes later I was dashing past the security trolls outside the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, Professor Trelawney's words still resounding in my head. People were striding past me in the opposite direction, laughing and joking, heading for the grounds and a bit of long-awaited freedom; by the time I had reached the portrait hole and entered the common room, it was almost deserted. Over in the corner, however, sat Ron, Hermione and Harry.
"Professor Trelawney," I panted, "just told me —"
But I stopped abruptly at the sight of their faces.
"Buckbeak lost," said Ron weakly. "Hagrid's just sent this."
Hagrid's note was dry this time, no tears had splattered it, yet his hand seemed to have shaken so much as he wrote that it was hardly legible.
Lost appeal. They're going to execute at sunset. Nothing you can do. Don't come down. I don't want you to see it.
Hagrid
"We've got to go," said Harry at once. "He can't just sit there on his own, waiting for the executioner!"
"Sunset, though," said Ron, who was staring out the window ill a glazed sort of way. "We'd never be allowed… 'specially you, Harry and you to Aurora…" Harry sank his head into his hands.
"If we only had the Invisibility Cloak…"
"Where is it?" said Hermione.
I told her about leaving it in the passageway under the one-eyed witch.
"… if Snape sees me or Harry anywhere near there again, we would be in serious trouble," I finished.
"That's true," said Hermione, getting to her feet. "If he sees you… How do you open the witch's hump again?"
"You — you tap it and say, 'Dissendium,'" I said. "But —"
Hermione didn't wait for the rest of my sentence; she strode across the room, pushed open the Fat Lady's portrait and vanished from sight.
"She hasn't gone to get it?" Ron said, staring after her.
She had. Hermione returned a quarter of an hour later with the silvery cloak folded carefully under her robes.
"Hermione, I don't know what's gotten, into you lately!" said Ron, astounded. "First you hit Malfoy, then you walk out on Professor Trelawney —"
Hermione looked rather flattered.
We went down to dinner with everybody else, but did not return to Gryffindor Tower afterward. Harry had the cloak hidden down the front of his robes; he had to keep his arms folded to hide the lump. We skulked in an empty chamber off the entrance hall, listening, until we were sure it was deserted. We heard a last pair of people hurrying across the hall and a door slamming. Hermione poked her head around the door.
"Okay," she whispered, "no one there — cloak on —"
Walking very close together so that nobody would see us, we crossed the hall on tiptoe beneath the cloak, then walked down the stone front steps into the grounds. The sun was already sinking behind the Forbidden Forest, gilding the top branches of the trees.
We reached Hagrid's cabin and knocked. He was a minute in answering, and when he did, he looked all around for his visitor, pale-faced and trembling.
"It's us," Harry hissed. "We're wearing the Invisibility Cloak. Let us in and we can take it off."
"Yeh shouldn've come!" Hagrid whispered, but he stood back, and we stepped inside. Hagrid shut the door quickly and Harry pulled off the cloak.
Hagrid was not crying, nor did he throw himself upon their necks. He looked like a man who did not know where he was or what to do. This helplessness was worse to watch than tears.
"Wan' some tea?" he said. His great hands were shaking as he reached for the kettle.
"Where's Buckbeak, Hagrid?" said Hermione hesitantly.
"I — I took him outside," said Hagrid, spilling milk all over the table as he filled up the jug. "He's tethered in me pumpkin patch. Thought he oughta see the trees an' — an' smell fresh air — before —"
Hagrid's hand trembled so violently that the milk jug slipped from his grasp and shattered all over the floor.
"I'll do it, Hagrid," I said quickly, hurrying over and starting to clean up the mess.
"There's another one in the cupboard," Hagrid said, sitting down and wiping his forehead on his sleeve.
"Isn't there anything anyone can do, Hagrid?" Harry asked fiercely, sitting down next to him. "Dumbledore —"
"He's tried," said Hagrid. "He's got no power ter overrule the Committee. He told 'em Buckbeak's all right, but they're scared… Yeh know what Lucius Malfoy's like… threatened 'em, I expect… an' the executioner, Macnair, he's an old pal o' Malfoy's… but it'll be quick an' clean… an' I'll be beside him…"
Hagrid swallowed. His eyes were darting all over the cabin as though looking for some shred of hope or comfort.
"Dumbledore's gonna come down while it — while it happens. Wrote me this mornin'. Said he wants ter — ter be with me. Great man, Dumbledore…"
I had been rummaging in Hagrid's cupboard for another milk jug, let out a small, quickly stifled sob. I straightened up with the new jug in my hands, fighting back tears.
"We'll stay with you too, Hagrid," Hermione began, but Hagrid shook his shaggy head.
"Yeh're ter go back up ter the castle. I told yeh, I don' wan' yeh watchin'. An' yeh shouldn' be down here anyway… If Fudge an' Dumbledore catch yeh out without permission, Harry, yeh'll be in big trouble and you even more Aurora."
Silent tears were now streaming down Hermione's face, but she hid them from Hagrid, by helping me making tea. Then, as I picked up the milk bottle to pour some into the jug, I let out a shriek.
"Ron, I don't believe it — it's Scabbers!"
Ron gaped at me.
"What are you talking about?"
Icarried the milk jug over to the table and turned it upside down. With a frantic squeak, and much scrambling to get back inside, Scabbers the rat came sliding out onto the table.
"Scabbers!" said Ron blankly. "Scabbers, what are you doing here?"
He grabbed the struggling rat and held him up to the light. Scabbers looked dreadful. He was thinner than ever, large tufts of hair had fallen out leaving wide bald patches, and he writhed in Ron's hands as though desperate to free himself.
"It's okay, Scabbers!" said Ron. "No cats! There's nothing here to hurt you!"
Hagrid suddenly stood up, his eyes fixed on the window. His normally ruddy face had gone the color of parchment.
"They're comin'…"
Ron, Hermione and me whipped around. A group of men was walking down the distant castle steps. In front was Albus Dumbledore, his silver beard gleaming in the dying sun. Next to him trotted Cornelius Fudge. Behind them came the feeble old Committee member and the executioner, Macnair.
"Yeh gotta go," said Hagrid. Every inch of him was trembling. "They mustn' find yeh here… Go now…"
Ron stuffed Scabbers into his pocket and Hermione picked up the cloak. "I'll let yeh out the back way," said Hagrid.
We followed him to the door into his back garden. I felt strangely unreal, and even more so when I saw Buckbeak a few yards away, tethered to a tree behind Hagrid's pumpkin patch. Buckbeak seemed to know something was happening. He turned his sharp head from side to side and pawed the ground nervously.
"It's okay, Beaky," said Hagrid softly. "It's okay…" He turned to Harry, Ron,Hermione and me. "Go on," he said. "Get goin'."
But we didn't move.
"Hagrid, we can't —"
"We'll tell them what really happened —"
"They can't kill him —"
"Go!" said Hagrid fiercely. "It's bad enough without you lot in trouble an' all!"
We had no choice. As Hermione threw the cloak over Harry, Ron and me, we heard voices at the front of the cabin. Hagrid looked at the place where we had just vanished from sight.
"Go quick," he said hoarsely. "Don' listen…"
And he strode back into his cabin as someone knocked at the front door.
Slowly, in a kind of horrified trance, Harry, Ron, Hermione and me set off silently around Hagrid's house. As we reached the other side, the front door closed with a sharp snap.
"Please, let's hurry," Hermione whispered. "I can't stand it, I can't bear it…"
We started up the sloping lawn toward the castle. The sun was sinking fast now; the sky had turned to a clear, purple-tinged gray, but to the west there was a ruby-red glow.
Ron stopped dead.
"Oh, please, Ron," Hermione began.
"It's Scabbers — he won't — stay put —"
Ron was bent over, trying to keep Scabbers in his pocket, but the rat was going berserk; squeaking madly, twisting and flailing, trying to sink his teeth into Ron's hand.
"Scabbers, it's me, you idiot, it's Ron," Ron hissed.
We heard a door open behind us and men's voices.
"Oh, Ron, please let's move, they're going to do it!" Hermione breathed.
"Okay — Scabbers, stay put —"
We walked forward; I, like Hermione, was trying not to listen to the rumble of voices behind them. Ron stopped again.
"I can't hold him — Scabbers, shut up, everyone'll hear us —"
The rat was squealing wildly, but not loudly enough to cover up the sounds drifting from Hagrid's garden. There was a jumble of indistinct male voices, a silence, and then, without warning, the unmistakable swish and thud of an axe.
Hermione swayed on the spot.
"They did it!" she whispered to us. "I'd — don't believe it — they did it!"
I wasn't feeling so good. I had to hold Harry to keep me from falling. Tears were running down my face. I couldn't believe it.
A/N: you know what to do! Review please, thank you
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