CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Ugh. I just read a How-To-Avoid-A-Mary-Sue guide, and panicked when it sort-of-kind-of described Celia. Celia does have flaws, though. This whole fanfic is only the beginning, and you will begin to see unmistakable flaws, physical and emotional. Celia isn't some cute girl with perfectly flawless tan skin and pretty eyes or whatnot; think of a regular girl un-interested in girly things. As in, dresses are a big no-no.

Thank you to all my supporters!

Let's start off on a happy note, then the sad note.

Oh wait. There is no happy note.

Hagrid lost the appeal.

Under the Invisibility Cloak Hermione got back for us, we knocked at his door at sunset.

The door creaked open. Hagrid let us in, growling, "Yer shouldn't ha' come, if Dumbledore o' Fudge catches you four, Harry, yeh'll get in big trouble."

"Why is the Headmaster coming?" I asked blankly, twisting my head to look for Buckbeak. "Where-where's Buckbeak?" I couldn't see the sweet hippogriff anywhere.

Hagrid let out a choked sound. His eyes darted around the cabin, looking for comfort, and I nudged Harry. He looked at me, and I stared back, like, Well? Are you waiting for a cue or something?

Harry went up to Hagrid and sat down next to him. Hagrid swallowed, and continued. "Dumbledore's gonna come down while…it happens. Wrote meh this mornin', said he wanted to be there when–Buckbeak's outside, thought he oughta get some fresh air before…"

Hermione, rummaging for a milk jug, let out a stifled sob, and I fought back tears as I realized, really realized, that Buckbeak was going to die.

Hermione was crying. I got up and walked over to her, helping her carry the milk bottle to the table, then hugged her. Suddenly, I felt her tense, and she shrieked right into my ear. I winced.

"Ron! Ron, look-Scabbers!" Hermione shrieked, and pointed at the milk jug. I gave her an odd look, then peered inside the milk jug. A flash of a thin, ropey tail flickered through the darkness of the jug.

I tipped the jug over, and Scabber scrambled out, squeaking. He looked terrible, with bald patches and wriggling as Ron picked him up by the tail.

Hagrid stood suddenly, nearly knocking the table over. Harry's arm lashed out and steadied the table. We all turned to Hagrid, who was shaking, his ruddy face paler than snow. "They're here." He said.

Now all eyes were on the window. Dumbledore, Fudge, some random old dude, and an evil-looking man swinging an ax. I gulped. "Who's the executioner?"

"M-Macnair. Old friends of Malfoy." Hagrid trembled.

I frowned. "Draco? Isn't Macnair a little old to be his friend?"

Harry shook his head. "Malfoy's father, Lucius Malfoy."

Suddenly, Hagrid seized the lot of us and muttered, "Yeh've gotta go, now!" Thrusting open the back door to the garden, he led us out. We stood, transfixed on the ground. Buckbeak…a few feet away, he was tethered to a tree, pawing the ground nervously and staring at us. In a few minutes his head…

"Hagrid, no. We can't-" I began fiercely.

"We'll tell them-"

"They can't kill Buckbeak-"

"I said, get goin'!" Hagrid furiously interrupted, trying to keep his voice quiet. "It's bad 'nough yer here, go on now…"

Both feet planted on the ground, I stared up at Hagrid. "We could tell them, Hagrid. Draco provoked it, you warned them! They don't know the whole story!"

"Celia, yer' a sweet girl, but yeh' don' know what'll happen if yeh' get caught! Just go! All of you!" Hagrid dismissed my idea, and my confidence when he turned away and let out a sad stifled sob.

Slowly, like in a trance, we slid on the Invisibility Cloak. Scabbers, I could see, was twitching wildly.

We slunk around the house, just in time to see the door close with a sharp, ending snap. There was a rumble of voices, and Hermione whispered, "Oh, get on with it, I don't want to hear, please-" I closed my eyes and tried to block the voices.

Ron froze, and the rest of us had to too. He grabbed Scabbers, which I was trying to inch away from behind him, and whispered, "Scabbers, stay PUT!"

Scabbers was squeaking loudly, and biting Ron's hand. Ron hissed at him.

"Hurry, Ron, I don't want to-" I couldn't even finish the sentence.

There was a swish, and a sudden THUD! in the background. Unwillingly, my head snapped to the side, and I caught a glimpse of a bloody, decapitated head. Blood. Blood. I swayed, dizzy. Hermione seemed to be, too.

"They've done it." She whispered hoarsely. "I don't believe it-they did it!"

I felt sick and dizzy.

"They can't have! Buckbeak is innocent!" I tasted salt, and realized I was crying a little. I swiped at my eyes, and shook my head. "They can't."

The air was filled with a wild howling, no doubt from Hagrid.

Harry obviously thought the same. "Hagrid…" he muttered, and turned back. Ron, Hermione, and I all grabbed him at the same time as his feet began to move.

"Don't, Harry." Ron was paper white.

Harry looked back, uncertain. He needed more convincing. "Think, "I warned him. "If we get caught, Hagrid will be in more trouble."

I felt his arms relax, and both Hermione and Ron let go. I didn't. Harry looked down at my hand, disappointed.

I managed a feeble, faintly amused smile. "You'll have to do better than that."

We locked eyes. "Alright." Harry promised, and slowly, I let go.

"Why are you…paler?" Harry cocked his head and frowned.

"Oh." I shrugged. "When I'm…upset I get paler." Paler was a nice way of saying it. I probably looked like copy paper. When I got embarrassed, blotches of red would creep up my neck. Huge giveaway to my feelings.

"SCABBERS!" Ron yelled, and I saw Scabbers slip out of his grasp. Somewhere Crookshanks had gotten into the picture, and bounded after Scabbers.

"Crookshanks!" Hermione yelled. With a cry, Ron tore the cloak of him, and ran after the 2 animals. I groaned.

"RON! Get back here, you idiot!" Hermione groaned. Without a second thought, all three of us ran after him, sprinting.

I tripped on a root, and spit grass out of my mouth. I briefly remembered my dad's "hay is for farm animals" comment and groaned. With some effort, I raised my head and stared right into the eyes of a growling…huge…jet black...shaggy…dog.

I gasped and scrambled back, standing. It lunged at Harry, who was behind me, and I screamed as Harry fell to the ground. Panic pulsed through me, and I reached out, grabbed the dog with both hands by the neck fur, and flung it as far as my tired limbs could throw. Not far away, the dog shook itself and rose to its legs, growling, spit splaying everywhere.

Again, it lunged, and this time I saw Ron shove Harry aside. Jaws clamped onto Ron's arm, and started dragging him away. Both Harry and I seized the dog's fur, but we were too tired and sore to do much.

Somehow I found the energy to get back to my feet, when suddenly and invisible hand punched me in the gut, and sent me skidding to the floor. I moaned in pain; so much for that energy. Dimly I noted Harry and Hermione's yells of similar pain.

I rose to my knees and instantly the invisible hand punched my head, and I rolled away with a yelp, hand digging in my robes for-

"Lumos!" I whispered weakly. The bright light flared up on the top of my wand, and I blinked black spots away from my eyes dizzily.

The branches of the tree was moving. Our enemy was the tree. At the base of the trunk, a large gap in the roots made room for the dog to drag Ron in.

"Ron!" I yelled, and started forward, and a willowy, painful branch sliced against my cheek like a blade. I stumbled back, and dully felt warm liquid gushing out of my right cheek. Another branch hit the back of my head like I had hit a wall, hard, and I fell to the ground.

It was getting dark…why was my wand getting dimmer? I couldn't see my wand-it was getting darker…I was sleepy suddenly…let me sleep…

Celia. Tom's voice was oddly calm, full of force. You can't go to sleep. If there's a chance of a concussion, you might fall into a coma, and they can't fix your head. Wake. Up.

Go 'way. Sleep. I fought back, my fingers numbly letting go of my wand, slipping it into my pocket.

Potter's in trouble. Harry and Hermione and Ron.

My eyes opened, and I bolted to my feet, backing up so the branches whipped the air. "H-Harry! 'Mione! Ron!" I yelled thickly.

A hand grabbed my shoulder, and I yelled in pain. The hand released me, and Harry shouted an apology. "We've got to get in! If the dog can, we can!"

I blinked. "Right…dog…" Focus.

"Celia!" Arms caught me, and I saw the hazy blur of Hermione's bushy hair. "Your head is bleeding! Oh, help, please, help!"

I realized I had fallen, and forced myself back to my feet. There was no strength left in me. But Ron…Ron…then I could sleep. Help Ron, my brain reminded me, then you can sleep. Sleep and never wake. That sounded so nice at the time…

Celia!

Sorry…mm…Ron. Hermione's hand grabbed mine. Crookshanks sprang forward…touched a knot in the tree. Every leaf and branch froze in place.

"Crookshanks-" I said dumbly. There was a passage…a tunnel…on fours, I crawled towards the tunnel with Harry and Hermione, my head pounding less now.

I took my wand out again, and lit the tip. We pulled ourselves into the room. Or, rather, Hermione and Harry pulled themselves up and pulled me up.

"I'm okay." I gasped. Harry reached out, took my hand, and pressed it to my head. "You need a bandage. Urgently."

When I looked at my hand, there was a dark red liquid stained on it. Blood. I felt dizzy again.

"I know. Don't-show me blood." I blinked. Harry gently put my arm down, and asked, "Are you sure you want to come?"

"Y-yes!" I said angrily. "I'm fine!" I looked around. The furniture looked broken, and the windows were broken…Shrieking Shack.

The furniture didn't look broken. It looked ripped, demolished…bitten?

Clawed. Like an animal.

I realized Harry and Hermione were both eyeing me with worriedness, darting to my head and cheek occasionally. I couldn't be left here.

"Let's go." I said in a false cheerful tone, and confidently-well, semi-fake confidently- walked into the other room. Inside, all I wanted to do was turn around, fix the ripped couch, and curl up.

In the other room was a four-poster bed, a purring Crookshanks, and Ron, who was clutching his leg, which looked broken. A bed.

Harry and Hermione ran towards him, and I tried to, but my knees gave way, and I fell. Pulling myself to a sitting position, I sat down next to Ron's leg and tried to rip a part of my robes to tie around his leg, forming a splint. It was useless. I couldn't even get in a tear.

"Where's the dog, Ron?" I asked.

Ron gritted his teeth. "Not a dog…he's an Animagus…a trap, Harry, a trap…" he moaned.

Animagus. I groped for information, and helpful Tom reminded me to wipe my cheek, which was thickened with blood. I brushed at my cheek, and kept thinking: Animagus. What had Hermione said last time? "An Animagus is a wizard who elects to become an animal."

Next to me, Ron's eyes went to somewhere else, and I turned to see what had caught his attention.

Sirius Black.