Hogwarts

Harry Potter POV

September 2 1993

There are many things in life that Harry Potter had been surprised by, a Troll in the girls lavatory, a Dark Lord worn on the back of the head, a basilisk loose in the plumbing, a book that writes back, but of all the things Harry Potter had faced since his introduction to the world of magic, this was far and away the one that he was least prepared for.

Lavender Brown, in full professor mode.

"Now it goes without saying that any attempt to suppress what happened is a lost cause. I mean the Ministry leaks like those funny muggle bowls that are supposed to have holes in them." Lavender said sternly.

"Colanders," Supplied Hermione tiredly. "And they wouldn't know if you hadn't told them." Hermione pointed out grumpily.

Lavender waved off useless trivia, and steamrolled on.

"That being said, we have to get ahead of it. You remember that horror show when you tried to stay quiet about the whole parselmouth thing. Half the school thought you were the new Dark Lord, ready to kill all the muggleborns and half bloods, and the other half thought you were the new Dark Lord out to kill all the pure bloods to get back at them for offing mom and dad in the last war." Lavender breezed along.

Parvati choked. "Merlin Lav, that was a bit harsh!"

Lavender however, was a force of, if not nature, then at least fashion, and could not be stopped.

"No more sulking in corners and refusing to meet people's eyes. That looked like a Dark Lord trying to deny he was petrifying everyone, so of course no one believed it. You are rumoured to be the leader of a secret lesbian sex cult that has tapped forbidden powers of magic that even the Ministry fears. We get ahead of it." Lavender said, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.

Harry finally snapped. "And how do we do that? You already confessed to all the worst parts, how exactly do we get ahead of that. We are Gryffindor, and the entire house is so snake phobic they make Ron in a room full of acromantula look controlled and rational. The Slytherin's already hate me for being Lord of their House, and the guy who is indirectly responsible for half their parents spending time in Azkaban after I nuked Voldemort from my crib. Ravenclaw have enough data points about my personal history and historical records of Dark Lords rising to get them at least a C maybe a B on a paper proving I was the next Dark Lord. Hufflepuff is ready to stack up and defend their weaker members if I so much as smile in their direction, how exactly do we get ahead of it?" Harry asked acidly.

Lavender blinked, as if it was so obvious she was mildly offended everyone else wasn't already moving towards making this happen. "Fashion, obviously."

%%%

Harry Potter looked at himself in the mirror, and said the one word his vocabulary seemed to have been reduced to. "No."

Hermione looked at herself in the mirror, and blushed, but shook her head. "Harry, as much as it pains me to say this. Lavender is right, this is her thing. I may not like it, but you do not argue fashion or public opinion with Lavender Brown."

Harry looked at himself, the crimson half cloak closed with a heavy golden chain and lion broach over his robes, the line of House Crests down his chest, Slytherin, Potter, Peverel shone in the jewels and precious metals of their full artistic majesty. Makeup had given his eyes a dark and dangerous cast, and his scar was even brought into prominence by the makeup making it just a little darker, and his sun bronzed skin just a little lighter, even as the Sleakeasy had finally tamed his hair enough to frame his face with the classic aristocratic perfection of a Pure Blood Lord, not the untidy disaster of a Potter heir.

Two dueling holsters chased in bright gold over basilisk skin showed on his belt, making him look like a teen fantasy romance novel's idea of a Dark Lord, even as the heavy Lord's ring on his left hand reminded everyone that this was indeed a Lord, not a boy they gazed upon.

Harry shuddered. "I look like a goth Darth Vader."

Parvati looked confused "Who?"

Hermione suppressed a smile. "A muggle fantasy Dark Lord, super tragic, super romantic, and super powerful. It's honestly a good look for you Harry."

Lavender nodded. "Yes, that is exactly the impression you have to give. Hermione gets the same treatment, only going for pure regal and sacral, rather than necessarily Dark, while Parvati and I flank her on either side as her handmaidens. That totally reenforces her as mysterious, powerful, regal. It leaves you the focus of everyone's threat assessment."

Harry pointed his finger at himself in the mirror. "I think I look like a bloody Dark Lord in this getup. I wouldn't wear this to my own wedding, let alone to breakfast on our first day of the year."

Parvati shook her head, her Indian accent growing a little bit thicker as she put more stress into her words. "Harry you were naked at our wedding, that is literally how you married us. No, you are not wearing this for yourself, you are wearing this for us. For Lavender and myself, for Neville and Luna, for Daphne and Tracy."

Harry turned to look at her, shaken from his embarrassment by his new wife's harsh tones.

"You heard what happened before Dumbledore and the Unspeakable showed up. The Ministry was considering killing us to silence us. Dumbledore was talking about taking measures to make sure we were 'managed and guided properly', whatever that means." Parvati said, her voice conveying how terrifying this was to her, and should be to him.

"The only thing to keep He Who Must Not Be Named loyalists, to keep Light Faction Dumbledore fanatics, and Pure Blood supremacist nutters from targeting everyone who isn't you for intimidation and outright violence is the absolute terror that is the vengeance of Snake God Harry Potter, lord of his Lesbian Snake Sex Cult, wielder of unknown and therefore terrifying secret powers."

Harry sighed. "I'm just Harry."

Parvatti held up her hands and screamed, then turned to glare at her husband.

"Just Harry is going to get us killed. Just Harry is worried about getting expelled, getting arrested, getting ambushed and killed. Just Harry isn't a threat, because the right leverage or planning and Just Harry can be dealth with . Just Harry isn't threat enough to keep the Powers That Be from eliminating a new threat before it becomes strong enough to defend itself." Parvati said.

"Lavender knows public relations, fashion, trends, controlling the conversation. I know politics. Let me tell you, Just Harry will get us all killed. Sexy Snake God Harry cannot be planned around or reasoned with. Sexy Snake God Harry, as long as he lives, is the threat no one dares ignore long enough to come after the rest of us." Parvati insisted.

Harry flinched. "Snake God Harry?" He asked, trying to resign himself to his new fate.

Hermione corrected. "Sexy Snake God Harry."

Harry glared at her, and she smiled in response. "How am I supposed to be Sexy Snake God Harry, when on a good day, I barely pull off Just Harry?" He demanded.

Lavender giggled. "You could show them your wand. I mean, it would look huge on Crabbe or Goyle, on you it looks terrifying!"

Parvati and Lavender giggled, but Hermione smacked her junior wife on the shoulder. "Harry will not go showing his wand off to anyone else. That is mine, well, ours. Not for the public. Besides, Professor McGonagall would have us in detention for a month writing out nineteenth century etiquette text books in calligraphy." Hermione said, giving Harry a soft supporting smile.

He remembered how Neville had stood with him when the rest of the school turned against him during the Parseltongue affair. He remembered Daphne working so hard to build them a cover story to get past the Aurors without landing in just this sort of problem.

No. He owed them protection. He could not be there to protect them all the time. Only Neville was even in his House. To protect the Ravenclaw and Slytherin, he must become something that stood outside the rational rules his enemies were so used to twisting to their own advantage.

With a sigh, he took a look in the mirror, and tried to summon his best Darth Vader impression. Darth Harry, the Sexy Snake God.

Sure. It's only breakfast, how awkward can it be?

%%%

Great Hall

Albus Dumbledore POV

Professor McGonagall was picking at him like one of her secret scratching posts from one side.

"Honestly Albus, what does it matter what he used. Professor Lupin was stunned, and there were Dementors on the train. If the Killing Curse worked on the blessed things, I would have cheered if he cast it standing on his head. He is no more a Dark Lord than you are.

You know how much he has lost to He Who Must Not Be Named, James and Lilly were both my lions, and you know that no child of theirs could ever go Dark." She insisted, her Scots accent growing thick as her passion rose.

Severus Snape had mastered the art of sneering and chewing, but as a cultured Slytherin would never dare to speak except between bites. He simply paced his cutting and lifting the food to allow just enough time for him to speak.

"Yes Minerva, your lions. Your oh so perfect lions. Lions like Barty Crouch Junior, and Sirius Black. Your judgement of Dark Lords and Death Eaters truly speaks for itself. James Potter was an arrogant prat, and I still think had she lived, Lilly would have recognized the monster she married and left. Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Harry Potter is a poisoned seed allowed to grow in diseased muggle soil, I don't doubt that the slightest touch of actual power will reveal his true nature." Severus sneered.

Dumbledore was seriously contemplating summoning an elf for a headache potion when Harry Potter entered the Great Hall.

The Doors which had closed against him in response to the Headmaster's unconscious reaction to Harry's changing nature, boomed open loudly enough to shock a hall full of chattering students into silence.

Harry strode first, his black robes were cut heavy, obvious signs of reinforcement panels (in this case basilisk hide) to make them duelling robes in all but name. His eyes had what Dumbledore would swear was makeup on them, two dark brooding pits that promised violence and hell housed eyes that were so bright green they seemed to shine the same colour as the killing curse. His hair was slicked back, leaving the usually hidden scar of his killing curse would blazing in stark defiance from his crown. A scarlet half cape covered his back and right shoulder, three golden chains connected the snarling lion broaches in pure gold. On his left chest, the crests of Slytherin, Potter, and Peverel shone in the light of the hall, clearly rendered in precious stone, and metal thread, while the Hogwarts crest was forgotten and concealed under his cloak on the right shoulder.

An unseen wind caused his cape to flutter, and flattened his robes tight against a frame corded with wiry muscle, making the slightly built boy remsemble less a child and more a deadly duelist, half a heartbeat from violence. Every eye traced the casual tap tap tap of his fingers on the end of the dark wand holstered on his left hip.

Hermione Granger drifted in, her own robes cut in a silk that was so thin that the same unseen wind that fluttered Harry's heavy cape flattened her own robes into a river of darkness that clung to her body like the memory of sin. Gryffindor scarlet piping in its trim flowed like blood from fresh wounds as she strode into the hall, her hair woven in Pure Blood elaboarate braids set with chains of gold and dangling gemstones that caught the light and gave her the impression of a queen from some ancient land, striding among a conquered folk beneath her notice.

Two etherial figures moved beside and behind her to either flank. Dark skinned and haired, or golden and fair, they mirrored her motions exactly, moving as if one creature in three bodies. They attended her like acolytes to a priestess, and their focus on Hermione alone, ignoring teacher and students alike as beneath their notice served again to draw every eye to Harry and Hermione.

Harry strode to the Slytherin table, ignoring Dumbledore who rose, clearly to speak to him. Harry walked straight to Daphne Greengrass and Tracy Davis.

Bowing slightly. "Heir Greengrass, Heir Davis, I trust the day finds you well." Harry said fondly.

Daphne and Tracy curtseyed as deeply as they would the lord of their own house. Daphne spoke for them both.

"We are blessed and content in your regard, Lord Slytherin, Lady Slytherin." Daphne said, curtseying a second time to Hermione, who in turn, raised her hand in a gesture of benediction that seemed to catch the light, as if light itself gathered in her hand as Hermione said simply.

"Be well, Daphne, Tracy." Hermione said, her voice ringing in the hall, as she didn't exactly shine brighter so much as all light that was not focused on her simply grew dimmer.

Striding from the Slytherin table, they moved to Ravenclaw. Luna ran out and hugged Hermione, who smiled softly, and patted her head. Harry simply brooded at the Ravenclaw table, and fingered his wand, as if memorizing every Ravenclaw face for possible future action.

Luna returned to her table, and Harry, Hermione, Parvati and Lavender stalked towards the Gryffindor table. They moved as one, each foot coming down together in the lazy stalk of a lion and his pride crossing the savannah. Harry led his wives around the Gryffindor table, and seated each of them before sitting himself. As if accepting no one at the table would eat until he finished, Harry didn't bother to glance at the rest of the table before simply touching his own cutlery, and saying softly. "You may eat."

Neville Longbottom whispered quietly. "Merlin's beard Harry, what was that."

Not quietly enough, as Fred and George Weasley leaned on him from up bench. "That was bloody marvelous." Said either Fred or George. "Bloody theater, bloody genius." Answered the other one.

Unnoticed, Ron Weasley gripped his spoon so hard it bent, spilling his pudding onto the table unnoticed. Bloody Harry. Always bloody Harry. Every single thing is just given to him. Hero by being born, put on the Quidditch team on his first broom lesson, just stumbling and falling into more and more fame and fortune without really doing anything. Ron had been his first friend, and without Ron and Hermione to loan him the clue he didn't have, the Boy Who Lived wouldn't have made it to Christmas in first year. Now he's gone all Dark Lord? As soon as he started speaking snake, Ron knew it. Knew him for another piece of slimly Slytherin garbage, a traitor in their midst. Maybe no one else would do anything about it, maybe everyone else would just keep their head down and pretend they weren't watching it. He was a Weasley, a true Gryffindor. He would see the little snake shown for what he was, and then maybe the school would see who the real Hero always was.

Across the hall, Draco Malfoy who began breakfast entirely in control of his place in Slytherin House, and thus, the world, looked upon a hall whose entire focus, attention, fascination and even fear had been commanded by Harry Potter and his...harem. This, this could not be allowed to stand. Draco Malfoy was being groomed to become the leader of this generation's wizarding world. He would not allow some Ministry fabrication and fraud of a wizard of no breeding to take his place.

Albus Dumbledore's blood was running cold. He had only ever seen one man command the attention of the whole of the hall, and only then in his last year. Harry Potter was not even old enough to be Prefect, let alone Head Boy. He was not half as accomplished as Tom Riddle had been before he could command that level of respect from the Great Hall.

The Boy Who Lived now wore the Slytherin Lord Ring, among others. Voldemort had been the former Heir of Slytherin. Harry Potter now bore the sign of the Peverels on his breast, the sign of the Deathly Hallows. Those in this generation did not remember, but he could see half his professors, the senior half, flinch to see the sign that Gellert Grindelwald conquered half of Europe under now on the chest of what may well be the next Dark Lord.

The food already in his stomach became a ball of lead through alchemy Nicholas Flamel would be hard pressed to explain. Severus Snape's words were suddenly less amusing. Turning to his old friend the former Death Eater, he saw a look he had never before seen on Severus face. Fear.

It vanished quickly under a mask of Slytherin disinterest, but for one second, Severus Snape had looked upon Harry Potter now with the petty hatred of a generational grudge, but by stark and simple terror.

Harry Potter had been marked by the Dark Lord, and bore a fragment of him in his scar and soul. Only through that very link, that very taint, could Harry be used to end the Dark Lord Voldemort. The boy had escaped control, and now Dumbledore feared he was facing a ticking clock, a clock that determined when Harry ceased to be a consumable weapon to end the Dark Lord Voldemort, and when Voldemort became their last best hope from protection from the rising Dark Lord Harry.

%%%

Great Hall

Harry Potter POV

"That has got to be the single worst moment of my entire life." Harry said bitterly.

Hermione nudged him with her shoulder. "That is what you said when Cornelius Fudge ordered you to surrender yourself for trial at the train."

Harry grimaced at the memory. It wasn't his finest moment.

%%%

Hogwarts Express, Day before

Harry Potter POV

"Drop your wands, by order of the Ministry of Magic, you are under arrest." Minister Fudge ordered.

Alastor Moody turned to face his Minister with a smile that could only be called a smile by those who had never seen one.

"They will bloody not, and since I am the senior Auror here, I decide who is getting arrested. By the way Fudge, Minister's don't arrest people, and Auror's don't kiss ass, so lets keep a clear division of labor and the Ministry will be the better for it." Moody laughed, moving into what was clearly about a quarter heartbeat from a combat stance.

Minister Fudge shifted gears, and smiled. "Alastor, the Dementors are the key to the Ministerial authority over the Pure Blooded aristocrats, and private armies like Dumbledore's little Order of the Phoenix. If the thought that our control over them was not absolute, or that they could actually be killed ever got out, our entire society could crumble." Fudge said sternly, still moving towards them.

Moody grinned, moving his hand over his wand. "Should have thought of that before you slashed the Auror budget every single budget since the war ended, usually in return from bribes for enemies you let bribe their way out of Azkaban for causing the war the last time."

Fudge turned to his protection detail. "Go ahead, arrest him and the children both."

Auror Proudfood kept his hands away from his body, licked his lips and muttered quietly. "Minister, that is Mad Eye Moody. They never found all the last people who drew a wand on him. I investigated it. Three Death Eater's who got off with the Imperius Defense caught him alone with arms full of groceries, and we still had to fill the body bags by weight, the parts were that mixed. We still came up several pounds short."

How it would have turned out, thankfully, would never be known, because a blossom of fire resolved itself to Albus Dumbledore and Unspeakable Croaker standing between Fudge and Moody.

"Good afternoon Minister. Sorry to interrupt, but my students are late for sorting, and if Minerva has to move sorting she gets quite out of sorts." Dumbledore smiled, eyes twinkling merrily.

Unspeakable Croaker threw his arms wide, and triggered his mask amplifiers.

"This is Unspeakable Croaker of the Department of Mysteries. All matters pertaining to the interruption of the Hogwarts Express trip this day are declared secret by the Department of Mysteries. No disciplinary action is to be taken, no investigations are to be made, and all records are to be either destroyed or forwarded to the DOM for storage." Croaker said simply, pronouncing a doom that simply was, and not something that could be resisted or dodged.

Cornelius Fudge threw his hat down and stomped on it. "You cannot simply do that Croaker!" The Minister raged, enraged largely because the DOM could in fact do just that.

Dumbledore smiled sweetly and patted the Minister on the arm, wondering why the protective detail all seemed to be about ready to collapse and stank of fear. Oh well, perhaps they needed a Sherbet Lemon?

%%%

Great Hall, current.

Harry sighed at the memory. "Yeah that was bad. What did the Unspeakable want to talk to you about anyway?" Harry asked.

Hermione blushed, and fingered a necklace tucked under her robes. "He wanted to bargain for the wording of Lavender's prophesy. I agreed."

Harry looked at her in wonder. "What could possibly convince you to give the Ministry, even if it is the Unspeakables, the truth about a prophesy that concerns one of us?" Harry asked.

Hermione's eyes went distance. "It was a really compelling argument."

%%%

Hogwarts Express, day before

Hermione POV

"Lady Slytherin." Began Unspeakable Croaker

"Ugh, don't call me that. My mother is already going to burn me in effigy as a class traitor. I don't need to hear it from the actual secret police too." Hermione groaned. "What do you want Croaker, the short version. It's been a day."

Unseen behind his mask, Saul Croaker grinned. "Hermione, I need to know the wording of that prophecy. I think your prophesies are the key to how the big one Dumbledore and Voldemort are banking on turns out. I am willing to pay."

Hermione glared at Croaker. "You have got to be joking. I have accidentally married into an obscene level of the one percent bloated aristocrat club, today apparently tripling down on that, and you think I can be bribed?"

Saul Croaker pulled out his Time Turner.

"This is a Time Turner, only the Unspeakables of the Ministry can access them, and even we control their use very tightly. With this, you can rewind one hour of time and experience it again. You cannot cross yourself to exist at two simultaneous times in the same place or reality gets confused and somewhere between cities and continents go bang, but you can rewind events to do them again, or you can use the same hour twice to avoid having to choose between activities. You could both go to class and skip it for a snogging session, or considering it is you, take two mutually conflicting courses all year long." Unspeakable Croaker offered.

"Time is too dangerous to mess with lightly. I am not going to do it just for snogging, and effective time management allows me to audit courses without taking the class and still write my OWL for it at the end of the year." Hermione said piously.

"If Harry were killed, you could reverse an hour and fix it, saving his life." Croaker tried again.

"Harry Potter is the most capable man I know, even if your lot keep treating him like a boy. He is wrapped in chains of destiny so tightly that if all we can do is not enough to keep him alive the first time, Merlin and Morgana combined could not save him a second time." Hermione insisted, crossing her arms, sure Croaker could not possibly come up with a stronger argument.

Croaker smiled. The witch was brilliant, strong, courageous, but ultimately, still a teenager. He had daughters. He knew the button to push.

Dangling the Time Turner in front of her face, he whispered softly.

"If you had a Time Turner, you could go back in time and stop Lavender Brown from implying to the whole Hogwarts train that you eat pussy so well you caused Dementors to explode in the hall outside your door." Unspeakable Croaker offered, unspeakably.

"OH MY SWEET MORGANA!" Hermione cried, burying her face in her hands. She muttered the prophecy through the hands held over her blushing face. He got her to repeat it twice, as he double checked what he wrote down, then hung the time turner over her neck. She still kept her blushing face hidden.

Really must send a box of chocolates to Miss Brown, Unspeakable Croaker thought. Far more terrifying than death is Lavender Brown with exciting gossip.

%%%

The sight of Owl Post delivery was a common one in Hogwarts, but banking formations of Owls were something new. Four formations of Owls arced together and performed identical strafing runs.

A Ministry of Magic wedding registry letter, followed by a second wedding registry letter, followed by a Gringotts bank account manager's letter, followed by a blood red Howler. Harry, of course didn't receive his dose of Howler's from the Dursleys, largely because they don't know how, but the magical children got one each from parents, while both Harry and Hermione got one each from both magical parents.

Multiple Howlers simultaneously shouting in the very different accents of middle-class English and upper caste Indian either demanding how their child dared to marry without informing them, demanding how Harry Potter dared to marry them, and demanding how Hermione Granger-Slytherin is also on the contract as marrying their daughters alongside her husband. Lavender and Parvati turned to Harry and Hermione, and in eerie stereo said simply "Our parents want to meet you."

Harry and Hermione simply snuffed the Howlers with overpowered Finite Incantums, but the Great Hall that had almost gone back to its own business again found itself entirely focused on one section of the Gryffindor table. It took all of Harry's willpower not to begin banging his head on the table, because right now that seemed like a rational response to the morning.

Draco Malfoy decided it was time to remind them who was truly important around here. That oaf Hagrid was making his debut as Care of Magical Creatures instructor today. He was sure he could make something happen to show those uppity Gryffindors the price of upsetting their betters.

%%%

Outside Hagrid's Hut

Care of Magical Creatures

Slytherin/Gryffindor

Harry Potter/Hermione POV

"Over here Slytherins, come this way Gryffindors. Got a real treat for ye today. Beautiful misunderstood creature. Now most other schools wouldn't let third years like you around anything as remotely interesting as this, but yer Headmaster and I think you are responsible witches and wizards, and ready to see some really interesting magical creatures." Hagrid boomed.

Hermione's eyes went wide. In the paddock you would expect to have ponies, horses, donkeys, or if you were odd, perhaps llama there was instead a far different beast.

The body was horse in shape, and it had wings like a pegasus, but that is where the resemblance ended. Instead of a horse's head and mane, it had a cruel eagle's beak and instead of front hooves it had eagle talons. This was a Hippogriff, which while less dangerous than a Griffin, that was a lot like saying a dragon was less dangerous than a basilisk.

Hermione had to check, it was possible that this was far saner than it looked, and the only wandless professor in the whole school was separating a Hippogriff from third year students with a simple log fence a hungry cow or spirited horse could easily ignore, and of course, neither of those could fly. They also didn't have the ability to eat students, so were probably not interesting.

Harry was already pushing forward. "He's beautiful Hagrid, what's his name?"

The Slytherin's also seemed to be taken aback by the Hippogriff. It was the symbol of House Goyle, so Goyle had heard stories of children who talked back being fed to the Hippogriffs they raised, and how they used to go muggle hunting with a flock of them in the "good old days." To say Goyle was awed was putting it mildly.

The girls however were taken by the soft blue plumage of his forequarter. It was iridescent like the finest goblin woven fabrics. The feathers ruffled with the Hippogriff's mercurial moods, making the girls uniformly want to run their fingers through it. Gryffindor and Slytherin girls pressed close to the fence to coo at Buckbeak as Hagrid talked about him.

Hagrid was a surprisingly good teacher, managing to blend information about their anatomy, their place in magical ecology, the uses of their feathers in artificing, both wand and broom manufacture, and their unique ability to keep the Niffler and Gnome population under control.

Finally, he got to the point that Hagrid had dreamed of, the chance to bring monsters and witches and wizards together, so that he could teach witches and wizards to stop being afraid of magical creatures. The fact that he was replacing a teacher who had run out of limbs to lose to magical creatures, and that Hagrid's half giant anatomy made him ignore the constant attacks his creatures launched on him, rather than in any way stop the creatures from trying to attack him was lost on Hagrid.

Hagrid's invincibility had allowed him how to teach others not to get bit in the first place. He had survived so many deadly learning curves, he was close to a magical creature behavioral scientist.

Hagrid boomed softly, as only a giant could boom softly, "Now yer Hippogriff is a proud creature. Most wizards that get bit, get bit because they insult the Hippogriff. They are proud creatures, and you must always approach them with respect."

Hagrid opened the gate, and stepped inside. Buckbeak raised his head, and gave a threatening squawk, causing the whole class to backpedal.

Hagrid bowed deeply, never breaking eye contact as he did. He continued to instruct his class as he moved forward.

"When you bow, you bow a third of the way. You keep your eyes locked on his. This says, you respect him, but you do not fear him. You are neither challenge, nor prey. You do not move closer until he bows back. This indicates that he does not view you as an intruder to his domain, and you may approach closer.

Buckbeak gave a whicker, somewhere between a chuckle and warble, and bowed exactly the depth of Hagrid. Hagrid then approached and stroked Buckbeak's soft front feathers, and the Hippogriff leaned in and went through Hagrid's hair for bits of thing stuck in it, and found several, eventually eating a mouse that had escaped Hagrid pocket last feeding time and hid itself in the forest that passed for Hagrid's hair.

Hagrid smiled and turned to the class. "Mutual grooming is a sign of affection, shared inside the herd and with close friends outside it. If you can get this close, then those feathers that are ready to shed can be harvested simply by petting the Hippogriff. These are valuable enchanting materials, and sources of some of the more popular magical charmed jewelry. It don't bother the Hippogriff none, as they are shedding them anyway."

Hagrid beamed at the class. "Now, who wants to try?"

Harry was first of course, bowing deeply, and Buckbeak seemed to react very powerfully to Harry, rubbing his head along side Harry's making him laugh. One by one, everyone in the class except Ron and Draco had taken a turn. Hagrid was looking for a way to get the last two boys to get over their fear of Buckbeak to approach and touch him. Getting them over their fear of magical creatures was Hagrid's main goal for the third-year students. He grinned, having a wonderful idea.

Putting a hand on Harry's shoulder, Hagrid boomed. "If you have a close enough bond with a Hippogriff, you can even ask to fly on his back."

Hagrid stopped there, and dug his hands in his beard. "Well not me so much, on account of me size, being a bit larger than normal, but for you littler types, its no problem at all. Hippogriff magic is not like Dragon magic to make the creature light, and then just use brute force to fly, a Hippogriff has magic woven in every feather, magic that calls the wind, until they soar in the sky on the power of the wind alone, the wings be mostly for steering, braking and such. That is why we use their feathers for broom cores. Would anyone like to try?" Hagrid asked.

Hermione decided to check and see if Hagrid had fallen victim to an attack of common sense, or was he still functioning on the power of however much testosterone was produced by giant testicles.

"I'm sorry Professor Hagrid, I don't see a saddle anywhere. Do we have to pause while you fetch one?" Hermione asked, desperate to be proven wrong, just once.

Harry bowed again, then waggled his eyebrows at the Hippogriff, who matched the eyebrow waggle and tucked his wings back, bent one foreleg, allowing Harry to jump aboard with a cry.

"Harry, the whole saddle thing was a serious question!" Hermione pointed out, but Harry was lost on a sea of flight related testosterone. An acute case of testosterone overdose. She supposed it was inevitable, he had three wives, that had to boost production. Plus there was the "too many bludgers to the head" Quidditch issue, and let's not forget shot in the brain with the killing curse, there were lots of excuses why her loving husband was rocketing into the sky on some magical cross between a warhorse and giant man eating attack bird.

Harry was busy attempting the full range of high speed air to air combat tricks in Buckbeak's arsenal, then dive bombing Hagrid so Harry could lean down off the side of Buckbeak to flick Hagrid's ear as some sort of counting coup or some other boyish bullshit.

Daphne sidled over to Hermione and whispered. "Your husband is very brave."

Hermione muttered just loud enough for Daphne and Tracy to hear her. "The Boy Who Died Falling off a Chicken Pony." Hermione muttered. "The Boy Who Went Splat" She cursed. "Worst case of testosterone poisoning since Merlin got jobbed by Morgana Le Fey." Hermione finished glumly.

Tracy and Daphne giggled as Harry dove just above Hermione's head, and dropped a flower they had apparently snatched off the Whomping Willow in the sort of high-speed attack run at the broom killing tree that made sense to boys and Hippogriffs. Finally, Harry and Buckbeak returned to earth in the paddock, prancing to a landing that had a laughing Harry bury his face in Buckbeak's eagle like crest and give the preening creature a strong hug. Sliding from his back, Harry bowed to Buckbeak three times as he backed away.

Harry then tried to hug Hagrid, which was hard when he had the diameter of a small elephant, but Hagrid's booming laugh said that he enjoyed the attempt.

Ron sat watching Harry and glaring. Since the Acromantula attack, Ron had a problem with fast moving large magical creatures. He remembered the fear, and his dreams dwelled on how his body would have felt when he got torn apart. Ron had been the one who introduced Harry to flying and quidditch, now because Harry dragged him into the Forbidden Forest, Ron couldn't even bring himself to approach the Hippogriff. He turned away in disgust, only to see Malfoy smile as he clearly got an idea. Looking over at Harry and Hagrid hugging, Malfoy sneered and fluffed his robes, starting to walk towards Buckbeak.

Ron could tell the slimy snake was plotting something. Something with Buckbeak that would hurt Harry, and probably Hagrid. Ron felt bad about Hagrid, but he could always go back to groundskeeper. Ron smiled, and it was a smile he had only ever seen on Percy when he got the twins in trouble, a very cold cousin to the normal Weasley smile. Now Harry getting in trouble because of a Malfoy trick, that was just snake on snake crime, and they all deserved it.

Sic Semper Snake. Ron sneered as Malfoy had approached to the distance that had Buckbeak squawking his warning.

"This isn't a dangerous magical creature, this is a children's petting zoo joke. A glorified chicken." Malfoy said, smirking as Buckbeak gave a warning cry and opened his beak in threat.

"How about I put a proper collar on this, and muzzle, and let the first years ride it around the common room?" Malfoy said, taking out his wand and advancing on Buckbeak.

Hagrid was too far away, and Harry was surprised that Draco would so something that put himself in danger. Only Hermione had the sense that this was truly about to go beyond pear shaped and into the realm of corpses and criminal charges.

It was a three way race between Draco Malfoy's wand and intended Incarcerous charm, Hermione Granger's wand, and her Accio Idiot charm, and Buckbeak's lunge.

Hermione did not have a seeker's reflexes like Draco Malfoy, nor a bird's fast twitch muscle speed, but she was by far the smartest of the three, and for that reason, Malfoy would be able to play with his wand again with his dominant hand, but it was very close.

Hagrid had undersold the power of a Hippogriff's bite, because it could not pierce his own magically resistant skin. Against a fully grown wizard, the bite of a Hippogriff would sheer through the entire limb with no more problem that snapping a single stalk of grass. Buckbeak was aiming to take Malfoy's arm off at the shoulder, which may or may not be survivable, depending on how fast they got Malfoy to the Mediwitch.

Hermione won the race, her wand started moving last, but she had worked out how to make the draw part of the wand motion for the conjuring Accio spell. She had never lost focus on Malfoys' back, anchoring her spell before the wand motion even began the energy flow of the spell construct. Draco's wand was drawn, and he opened his mouth, only to squawk as he was suddenly jerked backwards.

"Accio Idiot!" Sounded just before two screams, a boy in surprise, a Hippogriff in rage. Instead of snapping Draco's right arm off at the shoulder, he took a two inch chunk out of Draco's forearm, notching the bone, without breaking it, and missing nerves, connective tissues, and blood vessels. The final wound was two inches long, less than a quarter inch deep, and hit nothing important. There were more dangerous potions accidents every class, and there had never been a quidditch game without a more serious injury than this.

Draco, however, had what he needed.

"AAAAAAHHHH, the pain. Oh my god, I might not fly again, I might lose the arm. That animal needs to be destroyed, and the other one fired! My father will hear about this!"

Hagrid and Harry looked horrified. Hermione looked, angry. Daphne and Tracy looked calculating. Crabbe and Goyle closed around Draco, and bundled him off to Madame Pomfrey before anyone could get a good look at the wound. Anyone but Hermione.

Hagrid looked ready to cry. "I warned him Harry, I warned him clearly. Hippogriffs are proud, they are noble creatures, they are not violent, but you can't just insult them to their face like that. It's my fault Harry, not Buckbeak's. I'll talk to Dumbledore, he will understand.

Hermione doubted that would matter. This had been something other than an accident. She just needed more information to figure out what.