Author's Notes: Harry, why did you do that? Seriously. Why? I mean, it makes for a fun chapter to write, but it's... I'm just going to shake my head at your Gryffindor-ness.
After Harry woke up, he dressed and cast a Refreshening Charm on his clothes. Madam Pomfrey updated him on what he missed at the start-of-term feast—mainly the introduction of Hagrid as the new Care of Magical Creatures teacher—and smiled at Harry approvingly when he thanked her and said goodbye. He really must have needed that bed rest because Harry was feeling much better. Unfortunately, when Harry entered the Great Hall for breakfast the next day, the first thing he saw was Seamus Finnigan entertaining a large group of Gryffindors with what must have been a funny story. As Harry passed, Finnigan did a ridiculous impression of a swooning fit. There was a roar of laughter. That left no doubt in Harry's mind precisely who the butt of the joke was.
"Ignore them," Hermione said, who'd startled him at her sudden appearance. "Seamus is being an arse about it because his mother thinks you're an attention seeker."
Before Harry could say that he didn't see why that made it alright for someone to be an arse, someone shrieked, "Hey, Potter!" It was Lavender Brown, a Gryffindor girl with perfectly curled hair and dark skin. "The dementors are coming! Wooooo!" She wiggled her fingers. There was another roar of laughter.
"And her father thinks I'm a weakling?" Harry irritably shot at Hermione.
Hermione looked flustered and unsure. "I don't know why Lavender's acting that way. She's normally very sweet."
Ignoring the upwelling of laughter and other taunts, Harry gave her a curious look. "So, where's Ron?" Harry was uneasy to see that the loudmouth wasn't next to her.
"Oh, we… had a fight…" She said trailing off. "I'll see you in Ancient Runes on Thursday." Hermione practically flung herself away from Harry as the group of bullying Gryffindors burst into yet another bout of riotous laughter. Not thinking anything of it, Harry continued down the center aisle. He saw a familiar somewhat rotund teen.
"Thanks for telling everyone what a fainting ninny I was, Neville. I hope you can keep your trap shut about other secrets," Harry said. Before a gaping Neville could respond, Harry sat down at a spot halfway down the Slytherin table, beside Gilbert, who still had the regular prefect badge affixed to his robes. This year's Head Boy was Gryffindor and the Head Girl was Ravenclaw. "I can't believe that I missed Hagrid's introduction last night."
"Ah, hello, Harry. You're just the person I wanted to see." The seventh year handed a course schedule to him. When another roar of laughter bowled over them, Gilbert looked up with a deep frown as they mimed Harry's fainting experience again. "Dementors are the foulest sort of Dark creature. If you're around them for too long, they'll steal all your good memories away and leave you with nothing but the worst. It's why the prisoners in Azkaban go mad after a while."
Harry already knew that, but he wasn't going to be rude about it. "You didn't pass out," he said with a low voice.
"Nobody tried to kill me when I was a baby. Or mistreated me in my childhood. Or—"
"Alright, I get it." Harry was still ashamed that he'd fainted. He helped himself to sausage patties and fried tomatoes and looked over his schedule.
"Do you really?" Gilbert peered at him. "Because, frankly, I think if anyone would be susceptible to them, it would be you. Traumatized individuals have weakened defenses against dementors."
Wishing he'd dropped the subject, Harry shrugged. He stared down at the parchment. He had Arithmancy first at nine… and then Care for Magical Creatures after lunch. All new classes on the first day... It'd certainly be much more exciting than taking the third year class of History of Magic with Professor Binns, who'd been dead for nearly a century with a monotonous tone that could probably put other ghosts to sleep.
Professor Snape had Owl-ordered all Harry's books this year, so he'd been able to at least read the introductory chapters in his new courses.
Seeing that he had Charms and Transfiguration tomorrow, and History of Magic and Astronomy on Wednesday, Harry sighed. It felt like he hadn't even had a summer holiday at all since he'd been cooped up studying. He was already exhausted at the thought of a new school year.
"That was a miserable sigh."
Letting that observation go without comment, Harry finished chewing the meat in his mouth and then stood. "I've got to go get my books."
"Harry, my door's always open if you want someone to talk to."
"Thanks, Gilbert." Harry walked past the Gryffindors who were laughing at him yet again and out the Great Hall. He wondered where Draco was. The other teen would have definitely intervened.
"Good morning, Harry!" Hermione was bright-eyed and awake with Ron next to her in the Entrance Hall. "We missed you at the Feast last night."
Harry gave her a glare and walked towards the marble staircase.
"Wonder what's eating him?" Ron said loudly as the two Gryffindors walked into the Great Hall. Within half an hour of seeing Hermione last, the Gryffindors were apparently on good terms again; Harry wondered if it was typical of Lions to go back-and-forth on friendships.
Passing groups of tired, grumpy Slytherins, Harry made his way to the dungeons. He stopped at the Thin Lady, realizing he didn't know the keyed password. She flapped the fan at herself, not bothering to ask him.
Luckily, the portrait opened and a couple of first years came out frantic about getting to their next class on time.
"Thanks," Harry said as they craned their heads up with wide-eyed surprise. Harry nearly laughed at how young the duo seemed to him. He ran across the common room to the boys' stairwell to the dormitories, clambering up the steps. He had to remind himself to stop one landing early before he took the next step to the second-year boys' dormitory. He opened the door and saw that none of the others were in the room. Harry must have missed them. He shut the door behind him, rapidly unlocking his trunk with thirteen wand taps, and fished out the books he needed for the day and shoved them into his schoolbag. Of course he first had to run a finger down the spine of the growling book that he'd buckled shut as a precaution.
Not seeing his clothes, Harry slammed the trunk's lid shut and reactivated the useless-against-Draco-Malfoy—because Nott certainly wouldn't invade his privacy and Crabbe and Goyle had trouble enough performing basic spellwork—Locking spells and ripped open his wardrobe. His robes were neatly hung up and smelled as if someone had cast a Refreshening Charm over them. His quarterstaff was leaning against the inside corner. Reminding himself to talk to Draco about breaking into his trunk later, Harry took off a hanger that had a complete uniform on it. He quickly changed into it and swapped his Dragon-hide boots for a normal pair of shiny black loafers. Once he'd done that, he slipped his Spellfast Cloak back around his shoulders.
Harry checked to see if his wand holster was correctly fastened to his leg and then grabbed his bag off his bed. "HARRY POTTER, ARITHMANCY, ARITHMANCY, ARITHMANCY!" The clock screamed at him, startling him so soundly that he had pulled out his wand.
He blinked in surprise at himself and re-holstered his wand. "Shut it!" He yelled at the clock and ran right out of the room, heart still racing.
The Arithmancy classroom was near the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom not far from the Ravenclaw house. Harry ran all the way, exhilarated to know that he was hardly out of breath. He promised himself that he'd keep up with his exercise tomorrow morning, since he'd had to skip today.
Harry skidded across the stone floor as he reached the impressive arched doorway made of glass. He turned the knob and stepped in, noticing that the room seemed to be filled mostly with Ravenclaws already. "Excuse me? Sorry I'm… late." Harry looked around at the faces of students staring down at him. There wasn't a teacher in sight.
"Harry!" Hermione nearly cheered out. She seemed excited to see a familiar face.
Even though he was irked because of the taunting he'd endured by her fellow Gryffindors, Harry set his bag down and took a seat beside her. Sally-Anne nodded a greeting to Harry. He blinked realizing he had taken the only seat between them.
"I didn't know you were taking Arithmancy," Hermione said as a conversation starter.
"How'd you not know that if you're the one who said we had Ancient Runes later this week?" he said looking around the room. It looked like a traditional amphitheater classroom used in colleges. There was a mechanical clock on the opposite wall from them. The professor was five minutes late already.
Hermione rolled her eyes towards the vaulted ceiling. "I didn't think you'd be interested in the wizard's equivalent of mathematics."
"I heard it helps you perform wordless magic of any kind," Harry said, perking up at the mention of math. The Arithmancy textbook, Numerology and Grammatica, hadn't showed any numbers or equations in the first few chapters. It only talked about the magical properties of numbers and general magical theory, not the most exciting stuff.
"Understanding the patterns beneath the natural world obviously results in a greater appreciation for casting without incantation." Hermione frowned at him. "You like mathematics?"
"You don't?"
"I do. I'm surprised is all..." She looked at him peculiarly. "About what time did you say we talked this morning?"
"You don't remember?" He was surprised.
"I was a little preoccupied, sorry."
Harry thought a moment. "A little before eight. I'd just come from the infirmary to get something to eat when Finnigan—"
A hush fell on the class, and Harry snapped his mouth shut. A stately-looking woman with an emerald shawl wrapped around her head and neck had walked through the doorway. Her eyes were a piercing brown. Without a word, she flicked her wand at the chalkboard behind her. "My name is Professor Vector. I will be teaching Arithmancy." The chalk wrote out her name and Arithmancy below it. Her wand flicked again and the chalk dropped to its holder. "I expect that all of you are beginners, barring those with relations working in the field of Arithmancy or birthed from Muggle parents." Her wand came up again and a large stack of rolled parchments fluttered off the desk. Pointing at each of them while she spoke, a roll of parchment landed on their desks. "This is a pre-test. Fill it out to the best of your ability. Write your name on the top and turn it in. The paper is keyed to ignite if any of you choose to cheat. You have an hour."
Harry hurriedly dug through his bag for quill, ink, blotter, and paperweights.
"Er, excuse me," said a Ravenclaw boy; Harry recognized him from Herbology class last year. It took him a moment to remember that his name was Stephen Cornfoot. "Do we get calculators?"
Professor Vector laughed and then cleared her throat. "No, and no abacuses either. There's a scrap of provided parchment to do your work." She paced across the room. "Any other questions?" She looked around and saw that no one had raised their hand. "You may begin."
Harry unrolled the parchment and couldn't help the surprised laugh. This was baby math! After placing the paperweights at the top corners, he dipped his quill into the inkwell he'd opened and neatly wrote out his name. It was no trouble at all to fill out the correct sums, differences, products, and quotients to the single-digit problems, and then the double-digit, triple-digit, and larger and larger digit numbers.
Once he finished that part, he blotted the ink dry and rolled the parchment down to continue answering the questions. Now there were fractions, decimals, percentages… creating and deciphering graphs. Then there were very simple probability problems, followed by basic geometry fundamentals, like the names of the polygons with a certain number of sides, no higher than eight Harry was relieved to note, and the names of the different categories of angles and their ranges.
He was surprised that there were very few questions about theory relating to the magical properties of numbers.
With a deep feeling of relief, Harry patted his blotter over the rest of the page so the ink wouldn't smear. He looked up at the clock as he capped his inkwell and cleaned off his quill. It was only a quarter to ten. He rolled up his parchment. Sally-Anne was halfway finished while Hermione was two-thirds of the way through.
Professor Vector cleared her throat and lifted her wand. The roll slipped from Harry's fingers and floated straight to her desk. She placed paperweights at the top of it and set a quill on its tip at the first problem. After she pointed her wand at it, the quill hopped over each problem, leaving a small red dot next to each without marking any of them wrong. Professor Vector looked up. "You may go, Potter."
He nodded, putting his school things back into his bag, and left the classroom. Harry grinned at himself. This was the first class he'd excelled at without much effort, besides the three classes on broom-flying he'd taken as a first year. He decided since he finished early he'd wander around the school as a reward.
This year, the paintings seemed to crowd every bit of walls in the hallways. Harry thought it was strange since last year the walls had only felt overcrowded in the massive main stairwell where the stairs regularly moved. Now it seemed there were paintings everywhere.
Nevertheless, he enjoyed watching the paintings, how the subjects moved around and left their frames to visit one another. He was looking at a fat, dapple-grey pony which had ambled onto the grass of a particularly tall painting and was grazing nonchalantly. A moment later, a short squat knight in a suit of armor clanked into the picture after the pony. By the look of the grass stains on his metal armor, the knight looked as if he'd taken a great number of falls.
"Ah!" The knight yelled at Harry in a sudden rage. "Villain! Come to scorn my fall, perchance? Draw, you knave! You dog!"
Harry stared at the little knight as he tugged his overly large sword from the ground in which it'd been stuck and began brandishing it violently. The sword was much too long for him; a particularly wild, inexpert swing made him overbalance and he landed face-down on the grass. Harry wondered if Snape felt the same way as he looked at Harry when he was practicing against an invisible opponent with his quarterstaff.
"Are you alright?" Harry moved closer to the picture.
"Get back, you showoff! Back, I said!" The knight seized his sword and pushed himself up, but the blade sank deeply into the grass. Despite his best efforts, he could not pull it out again. Giving up, the knight flopped onto the grass and pushed up his visor to mop his sweating face.
Harry felt sorry for the knight. "Maybe you should get a shorter sword."
"Hah! You'd like that wouldn't you?"
"I'm serious. Couldn't you borrow one?"
"ANOTHER QUEST!" The knight bellowed suddenly in better spirits. "Two in a row! Oh, my comrade-in-arms! If ever you need of noble heart and steely sinew, call upon Sir Cadogan!" He stumbled a little and pointed to the right. "I shall find a new sword, or else perish bravely in the charge! Farewell!"
Harry watched the little knight run into the right side of the frame and out of sight. He almost followed the knight's clanking armor just to see what he would do, but the sounds of other paintings yelling their displeasure stopped Harry. He looked again at the pony grazing languidly and turned down the hall. Harry decided to take a stroll outside while the weather was still warm.
After lunch, Harry was pleased to get out of the castle again. Yesterday's rain had cleared and the sky was a clear pale grey. The grass was springy and damp as the students set off for their first ever Care of Magical Creatures class. Sally-Anne, Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle walked beside him. Up ahead of them, Neville was walking between Ron and Hermione, who by the looks of things, weren't speaking to each other. Harry had assumed that they had another fight.
"Divination is definitely more art than serious magic, since it's entirely subjective," Draco had been telling Harry for the tenth time. "And our Divinations professor is a fake Seer. Everyone knows that she never inherited her great-great-grandmother's gift of Sight. See, if you predict someone will get sick or die the professor believes you have the," His voice became breathy and higher pitched, "Inner Eye."
Crabbe and Goyle snorted in amusement on either side of them.
"Why didn't you take Arithmancy?"
"Because I want to pass all of my classes with Outstanding marks," Draco said simply. "And Goyle wanted to take Divination. Take this class. I don't even like Magical creatures, but that was Crabbe's choice so here I am."
Harry didn't think that was very strange since Draco hated anything that would get his hands dirty. "What'd you take for your last elective? Ancient Runes?"
"Please, I'd rather get through school in one piece," he said contemptuously. "We signed up to take an Independent Potions Lab specifically for third years."
"I think I've already taken a year of that. I'll stick with Ancient Runes, thanks," Harry said while the three Slytherin teenaged boys chortled because Harry had been given the class as punishment his first year.
"I'm taking Ancient Runes, too," Sally-Anne said quietly.
Before Harry could respond to her, Hagrid bellowed, "C'mon now, get a move on!" He was waiting for the students at the door of his cabin. He stood in his moleskin overcoat with Fang the boarhound at his heels, looking impatient to start. "Gotta real treat fer yeh today! Great lesson comin' up! Everyone here? Righ', follow me."
For one nasty moment, Harry thought that Hagrid was going to lead them into the Forbidden Forest, a place which Harry was not allowed to enter. However, Hagrid brought them around the edge of the trees, and five minutes later, they found themselves outside a kind of paddock. There was nothing in there.
"Everyone gather 'round th' fence here!" He called. "That's it—make sure yeh can see—now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books to page forty-nine—"
"How?" said Draco with his cold, drawling tone he reserved for gibbering idiots.
"Eh?" Hagrid was taken aback.
"How exactly do we open our books?" Draco repeated slowly. He took out his copy of The Monster Book of Monsters which he had bound shut with a length of rope. Harry looked around and saw that others had belted their book shut or crammed them inside tight bags or clamped them together with very large clips.
"Hasn'—hasn' anyone bin able ter open their books?" Hagrid said with a crestfallen expression.
Harry raised his eyebrows when he realized that everyone around them, even Hermione, shook their heads. Harry raised his hand. "I have, professor."
The half-giant immediately perked up. "Want ter show everyone how it's done?"
Taking out the massive, snarling book, Harry demonstrated how a simple stroke of fingers down the spine silenced the book. He unbuckled the belt, and it fell open to a page about Unicorns. "Like that."
He glanced up and saw that Sally-Anne looked peeved with him.
"Oh, how silly we've all been!" Draco burst out frostily. "We should have stroked them!"
As he looked around, everyone was glaring at Harry. He wondered what he'd done wrong.
"I thought they were funny," Hagrid said defensively.
"Oh, tremendously funny! Really witty, getting books that try and rip our hands off!" Draco said his tone growing icier, but he wasn't looking at Hagrid at all; he was glaring at Harry, "Who was the brilliant one to put a school dropout in charge?"
"I imagine the headmaster did. Now shut up and open the book," Harry said sharply. Poor Hagrid was looking downcast and Harry wanted his first lesson to be a success.
With a noise of displeasure, the platinum blond held the green book up and ran a finger down its spine. The book instantly stilled in his hands. Draco looked absolutely disgusted at the book.
"Righ' then," said Hagrid, who seemed to have lost his thread of thought, "So—so yeh've got yer books an'—an' now yeh need th' Magical Creature. Yeah. So I'll go an' get 'im. Hang on…" The half-giant strode away from them into the forest and out of sight.
"Merlin, this place is going to the dogs," Draco complained loudly. "That oaf teaching classes, I thought it was a joke. My father'll have a fit when I tell him—"
"Shut up, Draco—!" Ron's voice exploded.
Harry stepped between them, facing Draco. "I challenge you. If I win the duel, you won't tell your father."
"I accept," Draco said stonily to Harry, for once ignoring the red-headed Gryffindor who was screaming about spoiled wankers, "And if you lose—"
"Oh, no! Potter, there's a dementor after me!" Finnigan's voice cried out mockingly.
Harry refused to turn around. By the expression on Draco's face, he looked like he wanted to send the Gryffindor to an early grave.
"It's tryin' ta Kiss me! Help!" Finnigan made choking noises and by the sound of things had dropped to the ground. There was plenty of laughter.
Hand gripping his wand, Draco stepped forward, but Harry stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Don't. Let it go, Draco."
Furious grey eyes flashed to Harry's.
"Finnigan, would you cut it out?" Ron's voice snapped out harshly. "It's not funny anymore."
Draco's arm relaxed with a light snort. Harry turned to see Ron and Finnigan exchange a death stare; Hermione was perched on some tree roots, reading voraciously. She didn't appear to have noticed any of the teasing. Poor Neville continued to look back and forth between the two Gryffindors and two Slytherins as if he might step in between them when he figured out exactly where he should stand.
"Oooo!" Brown's squeal of excitement turned everyone's attention from the stand-off. She was pointing to the opposite side of the paddock.
Trotting towards them was the most bizarre creature Harry had ever seen. It had the body, hind legs, and tail of a horse, but the front legs, wings, and head of what seemed to be a giant eagle. The face had a cruel, steel-colored beak and large, brilliantly orange eyes. The talons on the creature's front legs were half a foot long and deadly looking. It had a leather collar around its neck. Hagrid was feeding it a dead polecat each time the creature correctly followed a verbal instruction.
Everyone drew back as it came closer to them. Harry had opened his book to page forty-nine, which was entitled Hippogriff. There was an illustration of a coppery-red creature that was built the same as the living one Hagrid had brought to them.
"Ta-dah!" Hagrid exclaimed gesturing to the bird-horse. "Inn't he beau'iful?"
Harry could sort of see what Hagrid meant. Once a person got over the shock of seeing something that was half-horse, half bird, they started to appreciate the hippogriff's gleaming coat, changing smoothly from feathers to hair. This one was a stormy grey.
"What is that?" Ron's voice broke halfway through the sentence.
"That, Ron, is a hippogriff. Buckbeak's his name." Hagrid came to stand in front of them. "Firs' thing yeh want ter know is that they're very proud creatures."
Draco and Goyle were talking quietly to one another instead of paying attention.
"Very easily offended," Hagrid continued, "You do not want ter insult a hippogriff. It might be th' last thing yeh do." The half-giant clapped his hands once. "Now! Who'd like ter come say 'ello?" He turned to check on the hippogriff that appeared to be preening.
Harry heard a curious noise of people moving, but dismissed it as he read the first paragraph on the page.
Hagrid looked back. "Well done, 'Arry!"
Spinning around in place, Harry realized that everyone had taken a large step back. "Traitors," he said darkly towards his fellow Slytherins. His roommates smirked at him, while Sally-Anne had an innocent look on her face. Harry took a breath, closed his book, and stepped forward. "Alright," he said loudly and then climbed over the paddock fence. It couldn't be much worse than meeting a basilisk right?
"Now, yeh have ter let 'im make the firs' move. It's polite, see? Step up, yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh can go and touch 'im. If not—Well, yeh should get away pronto since those talons are nasty sharp," Hagrid said with a pained expression, halting a move to touch his left arm.
As Harry approached slowly, he couldn't hear anyone talking from the other side of the paddock now. Everyone must be watching. He kept his eyes on the hippogriff's.
"Easy, now," Hagrid said 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 was staring at him with one fierce orange eye.
"That's it, now give 'im a bow… Nice and low…"
He didn't much like exposing the nape of his neck to Buckbeak, but he did as he was told trusting that Hagrid would make sure he stayed in one piece. Harry gave a short, but deep bow and then looked up.
The hippogriff stared haughtily at him and didn't move.
"Ah," Hagrid said worriedly, "Right—back away, now, 'Arry, easy does it—"
But then much to Harry's surprise, the hippogriff suddenly flapped its wings and then bent its scaly front knees into an unmistakable bow.
"Well done, 'Arry!" Hagrid tossed a dead polecat to Buckbeak who snatched it out of the air. "Right—yeh can touch 'im! Pat his beak, go on! Don't be shy!"
Feeling that the better reward would have been to back away, Harry moved slowly towards the hippogriff. He tried not to think too hard about its wickedly sharp talons and beak. He reached out to it, and it stepped forward, butting its head against his hand like Hedwig. He patted it several times and stroked a few times, and the hippogriff closed its eyes lazily as though it enjoyed it.
The class broke into light applause. Harry glanced back to see that Seamus Finnigan and a few other Gryffindors were looking deeply disappointed.
"Righ' then, 'Arry. I reckon he migh' let yeh ride him!"
"What?" Harry said sharply looking at the half-giant like he'd lost his marbles. He was lifted abruptly like he weighed nothing.
"C'mon!" Hagrid sounded gleeful.
"Hey, hey, hey!" This was far more than Harry bargained for. He was used to a broomstick and was quite sure that a hippogriff would not be the same.
"Put yeh over here, just behind th' wing joint," Hagrid said, cheerfully setting Harry atop the beast. "An' mind yeh don' pull any of his feathers out, he won' like that."
Harry wasn't sure what he was supposed to hold onto then. Everything in front of him was covered with feathers.
Then Hagrid thwacked the beast's hind-quarters, and the hippogriff made a loud, indignant squawk, while it reared back on its hind legs. Harry wrapped his arms around its neck, holding on for dear life. Without warning, the hippogriff took off galloping with its twelve foot wings flapped open on either side of Harry. He let out a yell of surprise as the beast soared upwards into the air.
It was nothing like a broomstick. He had no control over the beast and wouldn't know whether the landing would be as easy as take-off, and Harry knew immediately which one he preferred: The hippogriff's wings beat uncomfortably on either side of him, catching him under his legs and making him feel as if he was about to be thrown off; The glossy feathers slipped under his fingers, but he didn't dare get a stronger grip; and the entire creature was rocking back and forth with each beat of its wings.
Buckbeak flew him once around the paddock and then high above the trees into the misty grey sky. The air blustered over Harry as he clung to its neck, his Spellfast cloak flaring out behind him. It flew directly to Hogwarts Castle, soaring even higher as it circled the towers. Harry hoped that none of the Slytherin prefects were currently looking out those windows or Snape likely was going to kill Hagrid for endangering Harry.
As his arms grew used to his embrace around the hippogriff's neck, Harry stared down at the panorama, enjoying the wind in his face. Merlin, it was beautiful as the sun streamed across the lake and mountains and Hogwarts grounds. Buckbeak glided towards the sparkling clear water, dipping a talon in. Now that he was over water, Harry wasn't as scared. He carefully let go of Buckbeak's neck and spread his own arms out, keeping his legs tight around Buckbeak's middle.
It wasn't at all like flying a broomstick; he could have never flown one with just his legs! Harry let out a yell of happiness, and then the hippogriff pumped its wings harder and Harry was flung forward. He rewrapped his arms around the beast's neck, still grinning broadly into the downy feathers. Harry saw the paddock was under them again, and he heard a whistle from the ground. Buckbeak made a trumpety noise and circled around, slowing.
This was the part Harry had been dreading. He leaned back as the smooth neck lowered, feeling as if he was going to take a tumble right over the beak. Then he felt a quick succession of thuds as the four ill-assorted feet hit the ground. He just managed to stay where he was as the creature cantered to a stop. He was obliquely aware that Hagrid was praising him and that his classmates were cheering him on.
"Well done, Harry! Well done," Hagrid said as he lifted him easily off Buckbeak and set him down. Harry stumbled a bit. His legs felt fatigued from the ride. "How am I doin' on me firs' day?"
"Brilliant, professor," Harry said feeling great.
Hagrid smiled uncertainly and then straightened. "Okay, who wants to go next?"
Draco pushed through the crowd, storming towards Buckbeak. "You're not dangerous at all, are you, you great ugly brute!"
Harry's stomach dropped as he imagined what was about to happen. Like he had with the snake Draco had summoned last year, he moved forward before he quite realized he was doing.
"Malfoy, 'Arry! No!" Hagrid shouted.
Behind Harry, Buckbeak let out a horrible cry and his wings flapped menacingly. Harry didn't look over his shoulder as he shoved Draco—who suddenly looked very scared— hard to off-balance him. The other Slytherin dropped to the ground with a cry.
While the students screamed, there was a loud gong like the one that had gone off when Harry had been hit with a spell from behind and then something tore into Harry's back, ripping through his Spellfast cloak like it was tissue paper. He stumbled forward but managed to stay on his feet.
"Harry!" Sally-Anne shrieked through the noise of students screaming. "Harry!" Hermione echoed fearfully.
"Buckbeak! No!" Hagrid roared. "Back!"
After catching himself, Harry stood there dumbly, while the chaos of panicked students crashed around him. He should have felt something, some sort of pain, but he didn't.
"Harry?" Draco said tremulously still on the ground; his robes were dirtied from his fall.
"I'm fine," he said. The more he thought about it the more that pain surged through his back and left arm. "I don't know why you had to go and be stupid like that." Behind him, Harry heard Hagrid get Buckbeak under control again.
"I'm stupid?" Draco choked back horrified laughter as his eyes watered. "You're the one that jumped in front of that chicken—"
Harry could not believe what he was seeing. Draco looked like he was on the verge of having tears spill out of his eyes. "Are you about to cr—"
"You're an idiot," Draco said harshly as his voice grew hoarse. "What normal person would jump in front of that? Shouldn't you have used a Knockback Jinx? Honestly, the way you think is too Muggle."
Harry blinked down at him. "Er."
"Harry! Why are you standing there?" Hermione said sharply. "You need to go see Madam Pomfrey! Here let me help—"
Draco's face contorted, and he jumped to his feet and spun around so fast Harry thought the other boy might have gotten whiplash. "You stay away from him!"
"You can't tell me what to do!" Hermione's face was livid with anger.
"He just saved my life, and I am not letting your filthy Muggle-born hands touch him!" Draco screamed at her.
Harry's classmates were cautiously coming closer. Harry felt a little dizzy as the wound burned brutally, the noise of Hermione and Draco's screaming match filling his head with a loud buzz.
Hagrid's voice boomed, "Calm down, calm down. It's jus' a scratch, innit 'Arry?"
He nodded, since he didn't want Hagrid to get into trouble just because Draco had been stupid.
"Look at his arm, professor! He's bleeding!" Neville exclaimed, pointing at Harry's arm, "He needs to be taken to the infirmary!"
"'M fine," Harry said, his lips hardly cooperating with him. Why were all the colors around him beginning to bleed out?
"Don't lie! You're barely standing up as it is!" Draco snarled.
Long arms lifted Harry right off his feet and suddenly he was jarred around as Hagrid loped up the hill to the castle. "Yeh're goin' ter be okay, 'Arry," Hagrid said firmly, but Harry thought he looked scared.
"'M sorry," Harry whispered and passed out in arms that smelled like everything that belonged to the outdoors.