The Forest
McGonagall, in her shrill accent, stately addressed us with solemn concern, recounting our trauma, but also pointing toward some hope for the new year. The Dark Lord was dead, that alone is enough to celebrate for the third month in a row. But, as I had come to appreciate about her, she ended on a depressing, but practical note. Her grave speech next referenced ‘most recent events’. And, I was not ignorant to the truth of the scare.
“There has been a development in the last week. The Forbidden Forest was always dangerous, hence the name…” She gave a pointed glare down the rim of her glasses to the last group of Gryffindors found to be sneaking off lately. “But, now, the unfortunate weather, and the various escaped dark creatures from the battle, make it all the more so. No student is allowed to venture past the open fields at any hour. Hagrid will be running classes out of the courtyard outside of the main entrance—” At her mention, Hagrid’s belly slammed the table up as he stood, acknowledging his queue to greet the students, but McGonagall agitatedly waved him down. The crowd snickered. “And,” she tiredly continued, settling the students with a glare for silence, “after dinner, no student is allowed to leave the castle walls. That does not include any courtyards, you stay inside, under the cover of a proper ceiling. There will be chaperoned trips to Hogsmeade on weekends. I will be honest with you all: I do not decree this lightly, or without good reason. There was an attack this evening. The student is recovering in the hospital wing, but the creature that did this is still out there. And there could be more.” With that chilly note, she nodded once and decreed, “Now, enjoy your meals.”
“Inspiring…” Justin’s sarcasm could be conveyed to a deaf person, with the dramatic rolling of the eyes.
Ernie chimed in with a helpful, “Here, we go again…”
“Second year on repeat,” Megan added, then speared an entire baked potato with her fork.
“And third,” I mumbled, not reaching for the food like most were. I lost my appetite.
She turned to me, ignoring her impaled potato. “Will we ever get a break from mysterious forces infiltrating the grounds?”
Justin snorted. “Not likely.”
“Then, we’ll be defending again.” I took a very small bite of the soup in front of me, barely tasting it. “Hope you all haven’t gotten rusty.”
“In all of a few weeks?” Ernie dryly muttered. “I wish we could call ourselves out of practice.”