Love Advice From a Hippogriff by Skeeter

Rating: G
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 03/08/2004
Last Updated: 03/08/2004
Status: Completed

Harry has problems. This we know. But when it comes to girls, he's completely clueless! That
is, until a certain hippogriff gives him some advice.




1. Love Advice From a Hippogriff
--------------------------------

**Love Advice from a Hippogriff**
"Harry, don't even *think* about it."

"Aw, why not? It'd be fun!"

"You know I hate flying!" Hermione said sharply, arms crossed resolutely over her
chest as she flat-out refused over and over again.

"It's safer than a muggle airplane, Hermione!"

"I'd take a plane with metal wings and upholstered seats over a pony with a lot of
feathers any day, Harry Potter! There is *no way* you'll get me back on that
thing!"

"Buckbeak resents that remark."

As if to prove Harry's point the hippogriff fixed Hermione with his sharp stare, and as a
result, the young witch scuttled backwards nervously and scowled. Patting the large animal, which
nuzzled eagerly against his hand, Harry laughed and wheedled once more

"But you did it before!"

"To save Sirius, Harry!" Hermione cried in exasperation, and immediately regretted it.
Harry's face went hard and blank, as though carved from stone, and he dropped his hand from
atop Buckbeak's head.

"I'm sorry," she whispered hurriedly as her best friend turned away. Despite the
months that had passed since the incident at the Department of Mysteries, he hadn't fully
recovered from Sirius' death. With sad eyes she watched as Harry turned and walked towards the
lake, a favorite place of contemplation for him, Buckbeak trotting loyally behind and whuffling
softly. Feeling it would be useless to follow, Hermione sighed and made her way back up to the
school, casting one last look over her shoulder at the lone figure seated at the water's
edge.

"Girls are confusing," Harry said simply, not looking up as something heavy flopped to
the ground beside him. Concentrating on the blades of grass currently suffering his wrath, he
vented to the hippogriff, grumbling "I like her. I really, really do. Hell, it goes beyond
like. I think I love Hermione, Buckbeak."

Sympathetic amber eyes surveyed him curiously as Buckbeak stretched out lazily upon the cool
grass. Goodness only knew how Harry's mood had switched from grieving over his godfather's
death to pining for a girl he was sure he could never have, but a hippogriff's life was rather
boring. Therefore, Buckbeak was certain he had nothing better to do, and lay beside Harry
supportively.

"I can't tell her this, of course," he continued miserably, "it'll only
put her in danger. I can't get close to *anyone* without putting them at risk. Anyone that
I love, and anyone that loves me automatically becomes a target. Voldemort will do anything to get
at me, to break me down. I'm surprised Ron and Hermione haven't been hurt yet... been
killed..." Glancing at Buckbeak, Harry noticed that he was being held under a piercing stare.
It was a stare so scrutinous that he felt it nearly violated his person.

"Of course that's not the *only* reason I can't tell her!" Harry said
incredulously, as if the beast beside him were putting up an argument on the subject.
"She's my best friend, Buckbeak, and that's what she's always been... and what she
always will be. There's absolutely no way she could feel like I do."

*'Are you sure?'* said a voice in the back of Harry's head, which he mentally
attributed to Buckbeak. Harry glared at him.

"No... I'm not sure," he admitted, "but I don't want to take the chance
of asking her, and finding out that she could never think of me that way." Unhappily, he went
back to ripping vehemently at innocent blades of grass with slender fingers. Harry opened his mouth
to say something more when, to his dismay, Buckbeak simply got up and left.

"Some friend you are!" Harry called after him in the sun's dying light, watching
the dark silhouette as it trotted away and disappeared behind Hagrid's hut. Sighing, he lay
back, spreadeagled upon the ground and stared up at the sky. He rested both hands behind his head,
breathing deeply. The evening air was crisp and clean, rustling leaves on boughs of the ancient
trees in the nearby Forbidden Forest as it whispered softly over the castle groun-

"ARGH! BLOODY HELL!"

The large, feathered face had appeared suddenly above Harry, surveying him quizzically with
something clenched in its enormous beak. Sitting up, Harry grimaced and squirmed in disgust as
Buckbeak dropped the dead ferret in his lap. Gingerly he picked it up, finding the cold, bristly
fur unpleasant against his palm, and said sarcastically

"Oh, thanks. What am I supposed to do, win Hermione over with a stiff, smelly dead
ferret?"

If hippogriffs could smile, Buckbeak most certainly did.

---

The next afternoon found a thin figure hurtling down the steps and running across the Hogwarts
grounds, a scrap of paper clutched in one hand that read 'Behind Hagrid's hut'. Several
light raindrops had already made their descent, cutting through the warm air like tiny blades, and
spattering the lawn with shimmering liquid crystals.

"Harry!" Hermione said breathlessly, rounding the corner and skidding to a halt at the
edge of the Forbidden Forest. Worriedly her eyes roved over Harry, making sure he was okay, and
then she thrust the note in his face and asked "What's this about?"

Looking nervous, Harry took his hands out from behind his back. Hermione recoiled in mild horror
at the proferred ferret, looking up at him like he was crazy. "What...? Harry, are you
alright? You're holding a dead... thing!" Harry smiled as though the whole thing were very
simple, and said

"Hermione, I love you."

Mouth hanging open slightly, Hermione stared at him, wondering if this was some sort of joke.
But Harry continued with scant delay, sounding completely serious

It took conversation with a hippogriff and a very potent deceased ferret for me to get the
courage to admit this to you. But I do love you. I understand if you you don't feel the same
way, but... this is how I feel."

*'There. You said it.'*

Harry still wasn't sure if it was his own mind, or Buckbeak talking, but he tossed the
ferret over his shoulder and moved towards Hermione, who instantly enveloped him in a suffocating
hug. She still wasn't sure of the dead ferret's importance in this situation, but someday
she was sure they would laugh about it.

"Oh *Harry!*" She whispered, burying her face in his chest. Taken aback and
having expected her to retreat, Harry patted her awkwardly on the back and smiled. Hermione had
accepted, and returned, his feelings for her. With one arm around her, Harry steered her towards
Buckbeak and was met with no resistance. They both bowed. Buckbeak, his stomach full of delicious
decaying mustelid, inclined his head almost immediately. Gently, Harry lifted Hermione and placed
her on the hippogriff's broad back.

He mounted just in front of her, and found that his stomach did a startling somersault of
pleasure when she wrapped her arms around his torso fearfully, though with a touch that suggested
she trusted him completely. Buckbeak spread his wide, majestic wings and reared on his hind legs
just as Harry heard a soft voice in his ear, whispering

"You know, hippogriffs are the symbol of love..."

Buckbeak shot off into the air, rising gracefully towards the rainswept heavens as Harry thought
with slight amusement

*'Always take love advice from a hippogriff...'*



