Chapter 3
Even though none of them had proof that it had been Crookshanks who ate Scabbers, Harry was as sure about it as Ron. When he tried explaining it, Hermione lost her temper and patience.
“OK, side with Ron, I knew you would!” she said, so upset she knew her voice must’ve sounded shrilly. “First the Firebolt, now Scabbers, everything’s my fault, isn’t it! Just leave me alone, Harry, I’ve got a lot of work to do!”
She knew losing Scabbers was hard on Ron but he had already been very old and had looked ill since the summer. If Crookshanks had eaten him, it was probably better this way. After all, it had to be better to die quickly than endure long suffering, right?
She was so upset and angry about the boys’ behaviour that she almost forgot her crush on Oliver Wood.
Almost.
Still, she saw him all the time. In the common room, the Great Hall and also in the library. She regularly spotted him there since running into him for the first time. He seemed to be studying a lot and even helped other students out now and then. Sometimes, she also saw him pouring over his quidditch notebook, drawing out strategies and mumbling to himself, which she found quite endearing.
But she never started talking to him and neither did he. Hermione was sure that he, just like Harry and Ron, still held his grudge against her after waiting for Harry to get back his Firebolt for that long even after Professor McGonagall sided with her in front of him.
So, even though she had thought about a couple of helpful spells for the team, he would never know.
As Buckbeak’s hearing grew closer, Hermione spent even more time preparing his case with Hagrid, helping him to phrase what he was going to say and finding the right sources to help show that Buckbeak was innocent and it had, in fact, been Malfoy’s fault.
Now and then, Hagrid would ask her about Harry and Ron and Hermione burst into tears a few times. However, she didn’t want Hagrid to talk to Harry and Ron about it.
When it was time for Gryffindor to play against Ravenclaw, she followed the crowd as they went down to the Quidditch pitch. For a moment, Hermione thought about climbing the same stands as the Hufflepuffs but was afraid the rest of her house would also turn against her, so she decided against it.
Slowly climbing the stairs she reached the top and thought about where to sit for a moment before spotting Hagrid in the back. She joined him and sat at his side, happy she wouldn’t have to spend the game alone.
“Hi Hagrid,” said Hermione quietly.
“Hello there, Hermione. Good to see you! Let’s hope, Gryffindor wins this. Of course, I’m not s’posed to take sides, but, you know,” he grinned at her and she smiled back.
The game turned out to be really good. She had to admit the Firebolt’s speed was impressive. Gryffindor took the lead early and Hermione couldn’t help but turn towards the Gryffindor hoops regularly to watch Oliver Wood. He did well guarding the hoops and edged his team on more and more.
Hermione’s hair rose when she spotted three hooded figures entering the pitch. Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw seeker, and Harry noticed them just moments after her and she could see Harry pulling out his wand and shouting a spell.
Something enormous, silvery-white, erupted from Harry’s wand and shot directly at the figures. Distracted, Hermione didn’t see Harry catching the snitch, but the Gryffindor students’ loud applause let her know he had done it. Still distracted by the three figures, Hermione leaned forward. These weren’t real dementors, were they?
Spotting blond hair, she shook her head in disbelief.
Then she noticed all the other Gryffindors running down the stairs and onto the pitch and Hermione decided to return to the castle to work on homework. She knew the team and the rest of the house would be celebrating tonight and she wanted to get as much done as possible before it got too out of hand.
Hermione only had about twenty minutes of peace before the first Gryffindors came back into the common room, screaming happily about their team’s win. She somehow managed to get back into reading Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles as the party around her started.
She sat there in her corner, trying to read and nobody seemed to notice her. Nobody asked her to join in. She thought, not for the first time in the last couple of weeks, that nobody seemed to care if she was even there at all.
Hermione felt more alone in this crowd in the middle of Gryffindor common room than in a long time.
“Did you even come to the match?” someone asked suddenly.
“Of course I did,” she said, not looking up, hurt by his assumption. She felt her throat tighten and tears watering her eyes once more. “And I’m very glad we won, and I think you did really well, but I need to read this by Monday.”
“Come on, Hermione, come and have some food,” Harry said.
She finally looked up at him. “I can’t, Harry, I’ve still got four hundred and twenty-two pages to read! Anyway,” she followed his eyes with her own and glanced over at Ron, “he doesn’t want me to join in.”
Ron chose that exact moment to loudly say, “If Scabbers hadn’t been just eaten, he could have had some of these Fudge Flies, he used to really like them —“
Hermione couldn’t help but burst into tears. Before Harry could say or do anything, she had tucked the enormous book under her arm, and, still sobbing, ran towards the staircase to the girls’ dormitories. Throwing the book into her trunk, she flung herself on her bed, ready to cry herself to sleep as everyone else in Gryffindor Tower partied the night away.
*
Of course, Hermione heard of Sirius Black breaking into Gryffindor tower the next morning. She had woken up from Ron’s scream like everyone else and had spent the whole night awake in the common room with the rest of her house barely keeping down her tears thinking of Ron almost getting stabbed by Black. She was worried about Harry and Ron, but she couldn’t talk to them.
At one point, around 3 am, Hermione saw Oliver Wood walking towards her hesitantly, and even though he looked a little ashamed, she made an effort to visibly focus back on her reading. She didn’t want to talk to him. He had hurt her just as badly as Harry and Ron, and she wasn’t ready to forgive him yet. She felt him standing a few feet from her for about a minute before he turned around again and rejoined his classmates in their corner.
Over the next couple of hours, Hermione watched as Ron became a celebrity. She knew Ron had always wanted to be in the spotlight more, being the youngest of the Weasley boys and best friends with the Boy Who Lived, but she couldn’t fathom how he could use a threat on his best friend’s life and — even more directly — on his ownlife like that.
Hermione really wanted to be friends with Harry and Ron again, but they were just so reckless. One evening before their next Hogsmeade weekend, she overheard them planning to sneak Harry out into the small town again from behind her stack of books, and she couldn’t help herself.
“Harry!” she said, moving her books and getting their attention. Both of them looked at her in disbelief.
“Harry, if you go into Hogsmeade again… I’ll tell Professor McGonagall about that map!”
Seriously, how could they even think about doing something that stupid? It was already hard enough to protect Harry within the walls of Hogwarts, but going into town was the most ignorant thing she could think of.
“Can you hear someone talking, Harry?” growled Ron, not looking at her. Of course, he would act childish about this.
“Ron, how can you let him go with you? After what Sirius Black nearly did to you! I mean it, I’ll tell —“
“So, now you’re trying to get Harry expelled!” said Ron furiously. “Haven’t you done enough damage this year?”
Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but with a soft hiss, Crookshanks leapt onto her lap. She took one frightened look at the expression on Ron’s face, gathered Crookshanks and hurried to the girls’ dormitories. She wasn’t ready for that confrontation yet.
Reaching the dormitory she shared with Parvati and Lavender, she found the two other girls inside, both sitting on Lavender’s bed cross-legged. They both looked up as Hermione stepped inside the room, and Lavender raised her eyebrows.
“Please make sure that murdering animal doesn’t get into my bed, Hermione,” she sneered.
“Lavender!” Parvati whispered and threw Hermione an apologetic look but didn’t say anything else.
Hermione didn’t respond, got into her four-poster bed with Crookshanks, pulled the curtains closed and whispered some spells so the two other girls wouldn’t hear her crying her eyes out once more.
She had always kind of liked Lavender and Parvati, even though she had never been part of their friendship and was unable to understand why they worshipped Professor Trelawney the way they did. Still, they had always seemed to be kind-hearted and, in some ways even intelligent. Hermione wasn’t so sure about this anymore.
***
Hermione knew that Harry had gone to Hogsmeade with Ron but she didn’t care anymore. She had decided to walk back to Hogwarts early to be there once Hagrid returned from Buckbeak’s hearing in London.
She was sitting in the library doing homework when Neville stumbled by. He looked completely miserable. Professor McGonagall had forbidden him to join any more visits to Hogsmeade after his list of passwords had somehow gotten into the hands of Sirius Black. His grandmother had sent him a howler that had left him devastated, and especially the Slytherins were still reciting parts of what the howler had shouted. Hermione knew Neville felt so, so guilty about what had happened, and that he’d do anything to undo it, too.
“Hey Hermione, do you mind if I join you? I’d understand if you did, actually.”
She would actually prefer to stay by herself because her load of homework had gotten close to unmanageable and she needed all the alone time she could get. However, she felt bad for Neville, who must’ve felt equally alone right now as she did.
“Hi Neville, no, I don’t mind. I’d love for you to join me.” She smiled at him warmly.
Neville sat down with a sigh and started unpacking his school bag. “Thanks! I thought you’d gone to Hogsmeade with the others. Harry and I wanted to write this vampire essay for Professor Lupin together, but I couldn’t find him. However, I should probably start anyway. Maybe you can help me a little?”
So, Hermione had been right and Harry had probably gone to Hogsmeade with Ron. She did her best to stay calm and smiled at Neville again before getting back to her homework for Muggle Studies. “That’s probably a good idea, Neville. And I’d be happy to help you, but I’m sure you can manage by yourself.”
The two of them worked in silence for a while, Neville struggling a little more than Hermione, but both making constant progress. By the time Neville had finished the rough outline for his vampire essay, Hermione had started working on her rune translation of the week.
“I’m sorry, can I bother you for a moment?”
Absorbed by her translation, Hermione hadn’t realised someone coming up to their table. When she looked up, she noticed Oliver Wood standing before her, hands in his pockets, watching her with a pleading look in his eyes.
“Wood, did you not go to Hogsmeade as well?” Neville asked curiously. He probably couldn’t imagine anybody would stay in the castle willingly after being forbidden to go himself.
“No, I have to study for my NEWTs, Longbottom. But I was actually talking to Hermione,” he said without taking his eyes off of her. “Please?”
Hermione didn’t want to talk to him, but his endearing accent saying her name and those puppy dog eyes won her over, so she nodded.
“I’ll be back in a bit, Neville,” she said standing up before following Oliver, who was walking over to a small nook by the window where they’d had a little more privacy. “I don’t have a lot of time, though, I have a lot of homework to complete, Neville needs some help with his essay and I want to go to Hagrid’s in a bit.”
She wanted to make it a little harder for him. Even though he had been so nice to give her the beautiful quill for Christmas, he had hurt her badly just a few days later, and she wanted him to know that. Sure, if he wanted to apologise, that’d be great but not everything could be solved with an apology.
“I won’t keep you for long, I just wanted to apologise for my behaviour towards you after Christmas.” She could tell he was struggling for words and it served him well. She crossed her arms, and looked at him expectedly, waiting for him to continue.
He sighed. “I know it wasn’t right to accuse you of wanting Gryffindor to lose and you were also right in telling McGonagall about the Firebolt. However,” he took a small step closer to her, “I also want you to know I do care about my teammates’ well-being. Had the broom thrown Potter off, I’d have tried to catch him myself. I never want to see one of my teammates fall off their broom again.” He hesitated. ”And I also, somehow, started to care about your well-being, too, Hermione,” he added in a smaller voice.
That took her by surprise. Sure, she was more alone than usual and had run towards the dormitories while crying quite a few times this year. However, she didn’t know Oliver had been so attentive towards her.
Before Hermione could say anything, he continued. “I want you to know that you don’t need to feel guilty about Weasley’s rat. Fred and George told me about what happened. You didn’t have anything to do with its death, I think. Your cat did what’s natural, if Weasley cannot deal with it, that’s his problem, not yours. And as far as I know, the rat was ancient, anyway. Also, Potter is a bit of a dumbass, if you ask me. As your friend, he should also care about your feelings, not only about Weasley’s.”
Oliver finished his small speech, watching her questioningly. “So, are we okay? Do you forgive me that I’ve been so stupid, questioning your intelligence and sense of logic?” His grin turned more teasing and Hermione felt herself starting to smile as well.
“Well, if it makes you happy… yes, we’re okay. Also, I still need to thank you for giving me that beautiful quill for Christmas. I didn’t expect that, you know?”
He smiled more brightly now, and Hermione felt her knees starting to go a little weak. “I know, but I wanted to give you something. It just felt right to me. And if you like the present, I’m more than happy.”
They stood there, facing each other for a moment before Oliver started talking again. “So, you’re helping Longbottom? That is very nice of you. Wasn’t he the one who left the list of passwords lying around for Black to find? I heard McGonagall wasn’t happy about that at all.”
“No, she really wasn’t. But Neville is a good guy, he meant no harm by writing down the passwords. He tends to forget more complicated passwords, and Sir Cadogan made some really complicated choices.” Hermione watched Neville, who stared down at his parchment hard.
“I see. Cadogan’s passwords were hard to remember, that’s for sure. What are you currently working on? You’ve got a lot on your plate this year, don’t you?” Oliver’s expression had changed once more, and he was now looking at her a little worried.
“I’m working on a rune translation, but it’s fine, honestly. I love studying and learning new things. I still have to finish my Arithmancy homework after this, but I think I’ll have to do that tomorrow if I want to go down to Hagrid’s today.”
Hermione looked out of the window. In the distance, she was able to see Hagrid’s hut. There was smoke coming from the chimney, so he was already back from London. She should probably go down soon. “Do you have a lot of studying to do for NEWTs?”
Oliver leaned against the windowsill and looked outside as well. “Yes, and it’s a pain, honestly. Sometimes I don’t even know where to start. My parents expect me to do well on my exams. Even though I want to pursue a career in quidditch after school, they think it’s smart to do well academically. My dad says I’m always one accident away from my career being finished before it even started and I know he’s right about that, so I want to do well, too. I’m actually quite smart if you didn’t know.”
Wait, was he flirting with her?
Hermione laughed nervously and pushed her hair back behind her ears, which grew hotter and hotter as the seconds went by. “I did know, actually. I mean, you have to be quite intelligent to come up with all these moves and a good strategy for a quidditch game.”
Her heart was fluttering and she became more and more nervous. If he was flirting with her, how was she supposed to react? She didn’t know what to do, so she decided to do the only thing she was good at — retreating.
“I’m sorry, but I have to get back to my translation now. I really want to go down to Hagrid’s as soon as possible. So, I guess I’ll see you around,” she hesitated before saying, “Oliver.”
He was still smiling at her, his puppy dog eyes sparkling in the bright winter sun coming through the window. “I’ll see you around, Hermione. Maybe we can study together sometime?”
“Yeah, that’d be great!” Hermione said breathlessly before walking back over to Neville.
She could tell her face was probably bright red as it was very hot. Her heart was beating heavily in her chest and she knew, she’d need some time to calm it down even a little.
“Ah, you’re back, Hermione. Thank Merlin, I really need your help with this. I mean, what is it about vampires and garlic? How does it work? I don’t under—“ Neville stopped talking when Hermione stuffed her rolls of parchment and books into her bag. “Wait, where are you going?”
“I have to go down to Hagrid’s now, Neville, I’m sorry. I’ll help you tomorrow, I promise!” And with that, she fled from the library before Neville could say another word.
On her way to Gryffindor Tower, Hermione stopped in a narrow hallway hidden behind a tapestry to breathe. She even pinched herself to ensure she wasn’t dreaming, though she wasn’t even sure afterwards.
Oliver Wood, the boy who only had quidditch on his mind, had just talked to her and apologised for his behaviour towards her! Overall, he had flirted with her!
Smiling to herself, Hermione continued on her way, her heart a little lighter now than before. She was quick to pass the security trolls that were patrolling the corridor since Black had broken into Gryffindor Tower.
When she entered the common room, it was almost empty compared to a casual Saturday afternoon. Most of the other students were probably still down in Hogsmeade, enjoying a hot chocolate or a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks. Hermione thought about Harry joining Ron even though he wasn’t allowed to immediately but tried to push those thoughts away. She wanted to be happy about what had happened just a little longer.
Percy was sitting at one of the small tables, doing some NEWT studying of his own. Hermione knew he wanted to join the Ministry when he finished school, so he had to have good grades. She passed him on her way to the girls’ staircase, and he looked up.
“Hermione, there you are! Back from Hogsmeade already?” He smiled at her warmly. Hermione had always liked Percy and had gotten along with him more easily than all of his brothers.
“I was actually in the library. I have been back quite a while and wanted to get some work done. But I was about to go down to Hagrid’s just now.”
“A that reminds me, Hagrid’s sent a letter for you an hour or so ago.” He picked up a piece of parchment, folded into a small square from the side of the table. “Here you go.”
“Thank you, Percy.”
Walking up the staircase to her dormitory, Hermione carefully unfolded the letter. The piece of parchment was a little damp and for a second she wondered why. She started reading when she had dropped her bag at the end of her four-poster bed.
Dear Hermione,
We lost. I’m allowed to bring him back to Hogwarts. Execution date to be fixed.
Beaky has enjoyed London.
I won’t forget all the help you gave us.
Hagrid
For a moment, Hermione didn’t understand the message of the letter. Big teardrops had made the script almost illegible, and she was sure she must’ve misread. So she read the letter again and then a third time until she was sure she had read it correctly.
Hagrid and Buckbeak had lost. Buckbeak was going to be executed.
Once more this school year, Hermione felt tears running down her cheeks. She had to go down to Hagrid’s now, to try and comfort him. She knew she couldn’t undo what had happened but she could try to be there for her friend.
So Hermione went down the stairs again and, without saying anything to Percy, walked over to the portrait of the Fat Lady to leave the common room. When she passed by the security trolls again, she saw Harry and Ron approaching the portrait.
“Come to have a good gloat?” said Ron savagely before she was able to say a word. She stopped in front of them. “Or have you just been to tell on us?”
Hermione’s throat closed, and she shook her head, “No.” She felt her lip trembling. “I just thought you ought to know… Hagrid lost his case. Buckbeak is going to be executed.”
“What?” Harry’s eyes were big when he looked at her doubtfully.
“He — he sent me this,” Hermione said, holding out the letter.
Harry took it from her and read it, Ron reading over his shoulder.
“They can’t do this,” Harry said. “They can’t. Buckbeak isn’t dangerous.”
“I’m sure Malfoy’s dad frightened the Committee into it,” said Hermione, wiping her eyes. “You know what he’s like. They’re a bunch of doddery old fools, and they were scared. There’ll be an appeal, though, there always is. I read about it while preparing the case with Hagrid. Only I can’t see any hope… nothing will have changed.”
“Yeah, it will,” said Ron fiercely, almost scaring Hermione. “You won’t have to do all the work alone this time, Hermione. I’ll help.”
And even though she was still extremely angry at Ron and sad about how he had treated her so far this year, a load seemed to be taken off her shoulders. For once, she wouldn’t have to be alone and carry the load by herself. Even though she knew that words and actions were two completely different things, Ron’s words spoke so loudly right now. Overall, she didn’t want to go through losing Buckbeak by herself.
“Oh, Ron!”
So she flung her arms around Ron’s neck and broke down completely. She felt his hand on top of her head, patting her awkwardly. Finally, after a few moments, she drew away.
“Ron, I’m really, really sorry about Scabbers…” she sobbed. And she was! She knew he had loved this rat and losing it had been hard on him.
“Oh — well — he was old,” said Ron, looking thoroughly relieved that she had let go of him. “And he was a bit useless. You never know, Mum and Dad might get me an owl now.”
It was so late now that they couldn’t go down to Hagrid anymore, so Hermione quickly ushered Harry and Ron back into the common room before Neville or, heaven forbid, Oliver Wood came to join them in the corridor.