Pets, Regrets, & Runaways
THEY HAD TO drag Freya away with Will's hand covering her mouth to keep her from getting into a heated argument with the Minister of Magic.
"Why the bloody hell did you two stop me?!" said Freya angrily as she struggled out of their grip in front of the lunch hall, the tips of her ears already turned maroon. "Did you see them? They had the bloody axe ready! This-"
She startled them as she suddenly stomped her foot down hard.
"This isn't justice!"
"Freya, think rationally. That man is your father's boss, you can't just go upsetting him even if..." Will looked down, a hard look flashing through his eyes, before he blinked it away, looking up to face them seriously. "As long as Hagrid keeps his head this time, and argues his case properly, they can’t possibly execute Buckbeak...”
But Harry could tell even Will didn’t really believe what he was saying.
...
Five minutes later after his odd and slightly terrifying divination exam, Harry was dashing past the security trolls outside the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, Professor Trelawney’s words still resounding in his head. People were striding past him in the opposite direction, laughing and joking, heading for the grounds and a bit of long-awaited freedom; by the time he had reached the portrait hole and entered the common room, it was almost deserted. Over in the corner, however, sat Will and Freya.
“Professor Trelawney,” Harry panted, “just told me —” But he stopped abruptly at the sight of their faces.
Freya, who had her head down with her chin cupped into her hands looked up, releasing her bottom lip that had marks from her biting down on it, as she looked to Harry with a hard stare.
"Buckbeak lost." she said simply, her voice strangely devoid of emotion as she shrugged, blinking rapidly. "Hagrid... Hagrid 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 Freya, who was now staring out the window in a glazed sort of way. “We’d never be allowed . . . ’specially you, Harry.”
Harry sank his head into his hands, thinking. “If we only had the Invisibility Cloak.”
Will whose head had also been bowed suddenly looked up. "Where is it?"
Harry told him about leaving it in the passageway under the one-eyed witch
“ - if Snape sees me anywhere near there again, I’m in serious trouble,” he finished, shoulders slumping.
"That’s true,” Will acknowledged, getting to his feet. “If he sees you How do you open the witch’s hump again?”
“You — you tap it and say, ‘Dissendium,’ ” said Harry. “But —”
Will didn’t wait for the rest of his sentence; he strode across the room, pushed open the Fat Lady’s portrait, and vanished from sight.
There was a moment of silence.
“Don't tell me he's gone to get it?" asked Freya, staring after Will with a little bit of her usual amused light back in her eyes.
He had. Will returned a quarter of an hour later with the silvery cloak folded carefully under his robes.
"Bloody hell, William!" Freya exclaimed, standing up from her seat beside Harry to greet him. "First you trip Malfoy and then you walk out on a teacher and now-" she laughed, shaking her head as she took the invisibility cloak from him. "Brilliant, William. Absolutely brilliant."
"Freya," Will pinched the bridge of his nose. "There's nothing brilliant about breaking the rules."
Despite his words, however, Harry saw him smile when Freya turned away, as if deciding his antics as of late weren't all that bad at all.
***
They 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. They skulked in an empty chamber off the entrance hall, listening, until they were sure it was deserted. They heard a last pair of people hurrying across the hall and a door slamming. Freya poked her head around the door.
“Okay,” she whispered, “no one there — cloak on —”
Walking very close together so that nobody would see them, they 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.
They 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 they 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 poured the kettle, not even waiting for their reply.
"Where's Buckbeak, Hagrid?" asked WIll, 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.
"It's okay, Hagrid, I'll do it!" said Will quickly as he hurried to get the cleaning supplies looking slightly relieved, as though cleaning up shards of glass was an easier job than dealing with Hagrid in this fragile state.
Which Harry supposed it was.
“There’s another one in the cupboard,” Hagrid said, sitting down and wiping his forehead on his sleeve.
Harry glanced at Freya, who looked back hopelessly.
“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 "
Harry, feeling lost after his first attempt, looked to Freya to signal it was her turn and startled for she was crying, silently.
"We'll stay with you, Hagrid!" she said, her voice trembling only slightly as she wiped away her tears gazing up at Hagrid sternly. "I mean, I know Harry should probably go up, but I don't give a damn if I get detention for it!"
But Hagrid shook his 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.”
Silent tears continued to stream down Freya's face as she glowered at the floor.
Will's brows creased in concern but he hid it, bustling around making tea. Then, as he picked up the milk bottle to pour some into the jug, he let out a startled gasp.
“Freya! I — I don’t believe it — it’s Scabbers!”
Freya looked up at Will, startled. “What are you talking about?"
Will carried 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 Freya blankly. “Scabbers, what are you doing here and-” Her nose scrunched up slightly, "What the bloody hell are you doing in Hagrid's milk jug?"
Harry actually had the same question, making a note to decline not just food but beverages at Hagrid's.
Freya shook her head and 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 Freya’s hands as though desperate to free himself.
“It’s okay, Scabbers!” said Freya. “No cats! There’s nothing here to hurt you!"
She stared at her rat looking relieved before her brow scrunched up and she flushed slightly as she glanced at Will.
"Um. So. I guess Crookshanks didn't eat...Scabbers." Freya swallowed, "So I guess I owe you a-"
"No need." Will said quickly, "I thought that my cat ate your rat too."
Freya looked conflicted, "But-"
She didn't get to finish for Hagrid stood up suddenly, his normally ruddy face going as white as parchment paper.
"They're comin."
* * *
I'm going because I want to see that stupid monstrosity of a bird pay for what it did to me.
This is what Draco Malfoy told himself as he snuck out of the dining hall, trailing after his father and the other men as sunset neared.
I'm going because I want to see that stupid monstrosity of a bird pay for what it did to me.
This is what Draco Malfoy insisted to himself, even as his hands trembled in the pockets of his robes.
I'm only going because I want to see that stupid monstrosity of a bird pay for what it did to me.
This is how Draco Malfoy chose to reassure himself, even as he spotted the axe in the executioner's hand and his mind screamed for him to run away as fast as he could.
Run away so he wouldn't have to face what he had done.
Run away so he could go on pretending like he was proud of what he had done.
It might be that constant running that always made it so hard for Draco Malfoy to breathe.