“Does that mean that she makes a real one?” Harry asked.
“I have the feeling that's the only reason why she's getting her own chapter,” Cedric said.
Harry’s euphoria at finally winning the Quidditch Cup lasted at least a week. Even the weather seemed to be celebrating; as June approached, the days became cloudless and sultry, and all anybody felt like doing was strolling into the grounds and flopping down on the grass with several pints of iced pumpkin juice, perhaps playing a casual game of Gobstones or watching the giant squid propel itself dreamily across the surface of the lake.
“Of course, you won't be able to do so, since exams are nearly there,” Cedric said.
“So, the days are just teasing us,” Harry said, sighing.
But they couldn’t. The exams were nearly upon them, and instead of lazing around outside, the students were forced to remain inside the castle, trying to bully their brains into concentrating while enticing wafts of summer air drifted in through the windows.
“That's just going to suck,” Harry said.
Even Fred and George Weasley had been spotted working;
“Wait, what?” Hermione said.
“They're working,” Harry said, sounding incredulous. “And on something that has to do with school.”
“They're about to take their O.W.L.s,” Cedric said. “That's probably what has them working.”
“Oh,” Hermione said. “Well, glad to know that they're taking them seriously.”
they were about to take their O.W.Ls (Ordinary Wizarding Levels). Percy was getting ready to sit his N.E.W.Ts (Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests), the highest qualification Hogwarts offered. As Percy hoped to enter the Ministry of Magic, he needed top grades. He was becoming increasingly edgy, and gave very severe punishments to anybody who disturbed the quiet of the common room in the evenings.
“He can't actually do that,” Cedric said, frowning. “It's not fair to everyone else who may want a break not to be allowed one. And besides, most of the younger years, who don't have as much to do, are going to be a bit more noisy than everyone else, particularly those in fifth and seventh year.”
In fact, the only person who seemed more anxious than Percy was Hermione.
“Now, I have to admit, that's kind of sad,” Cedric said. “You're not supposed to be more anxious than someone who is four years above you.”
Harry and Ron had given up asking her how she was managing to attend several classes at once, but they couldn’t restrain themselves when they saw the exam timetable she had drawn up for herself.
“I wonder what it is that makes it hard for you,” Hermione said.
The first column read:
MONDAY
9 o’clock, Arithmancy 9 o’clock, Transfiguration
Lunch
1 o’clock, Charms 1 o’clock, Ancient Runes
“Oh, that,” Hermione said, tilting her head and wondering just how she was going to get to two of those classes. She really wished she knew what it was that was enabling her to do so.
“Hermione?” Ron said cautiously, because she was liable to explode when interrupted these days. “Er – are you sure you’ve copied down these times right?”
“Probably,” Hermione said.
“He really shouldn't be questioning you,” Luna said.
“What?” snapped Hermione,
“Apparently, his caution is duly needed,” Harry said.
picking up the exam timetable and examining it. “Yes, of course I have.”
“Is there any point asking how you’re going to sit two exams at once?” said Harry.
“Probably not,” Cedric said.
“No,” said Hermione shortly. “Has either of you seen my copy of Numerology and Grammatica?”
“I really doubt it,” Harry said. “Neither of us have a reason to look for that book, after all.”
“Oh, yeah, I borrowed it for a bit of bedtime reading,” said Ron, but very quietly.
“Okay, never mind,” Harry said.
Hermione started shifting heaps of parchment around on her table, looking for the book. Just then, there was a rustle at the window and Hedwig fluttered through it, a note clutched tightly in her beak.
“It’s from Hagrid,” said Harry,
“It must be about the appeal,” Harry said.
ripping the note open. “Buckbeak’s appeal – it’s set for the sixth.”
“Looks like you were right,” Hermione said.
“That’s the day we finish our exams,” said Hermione, still looking everywhere for her Arithmancy book.
“I have a feeling that Ron is going to have to somehow sneak it to me, cause I'll be very likely to go off on him otherwise,” Hermione said.
“That's probably very true,” Cedric said.
“And they’re coming up here to do it,” said Harry, still reading from the letter. “Someone from the Ministry of Magic and – and an executioner.”
“I have the feeling that's definitely going to startle you,” Luna said,
“And it's most likely going to make Ron unhappy knowing that his work will be for naught,” Harry said.
Hermione looked up, startled.
“They’re bringing the executioner to the appeal! But that sounds as though they’ve already decided!”
“It's sad that I would sound surprised at that,” Hermione said.
“Yeah, it does,” said Harry slowly.
“They can’t!” Ron howled. “I’ve spent ages reading up stuff for him, they can’t just ignore it all!”
“Looks like you called Ron's emotions correctly,” Hermione said.
But Harry had a horrible feeling that the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures had had its mind made up for it by Mr. Malfoy.
“Exactly,” Cedric said.
Draco, who had been noticeably subdued since Gryffindor’s triumph in the Quidditch final, seemed to regain some of his old swagger over the next few days. From sneering comments Harry overheard, Malfoy was certain Buckbeak was going to be killed, and seemed thoroughly pleased with himself for bringing it about.
“I really hope something will happen that'll wipe the smirk that he most likely has on his face at that,” Luna said.
It was all Harry could do to stop himself imitating Hermione and hitting Malfoy in the face on these occasions. And the worst thing of all was that they had no time or opportunity to go and see Hagrid, because the strict new security measures had not been lifted, and Harry didn’t dare retrieve his Invisibility Cloak from below the one-eyed witch.
“I wonder how long the Cloak is going to be waiting for you there,” Luna said.
“Who knows,” Harry said, frowning that he fact that he had unnecessarily left it there.
Exam week began and an unnatural hush fell over the castle. The third-years emerged from Transfiguration at lunch-time on Monday limp and ashen-faced, comparing results and bemoaning the difficulty of the tasks they had been set, which had included turning a teapot into a tortoise. Hermione irritated the rest by fussing about how her tortoise had looked more like a turtle,
“Somehow, I don't think that's going to be the worse of the mistakes done,” Cedric said.
which was the least of everyone else’s worries.
“Mine still had a spout for a tail, what a nightmare ...”
“Were the tortoises supposed to breathe steam?”
“It still had a willow-patterned shell, d’you think that’ll count against me?”
“Okay, compared to those, mine wasn't that bad,” Hermione said, shaking her head.
Then, after a hasty lunch, it was straight back upstairs for the Charms exam. Hermione had been right; Professor Flitwick did indeed test them on Cheering Charms. Harry slightly overdid his out of nerves and Ron, who was partnering him, ended up in fits of hysterical laughter and had to be led away to a quiet room for an hour before he was ready to perform the Charm himself.
“Oops,” Harry said, shaking his head.
“I'm sure that Ron just loved you for that,” Hermione said.
“I wonder how you did,” Luna said, looking at Hermione.
“I don't know, it doesn't look like Harry noticed,” Hermione said.
After dinner, the students hurried back to their common rooms,
“I doubt it to relax, though,” Harry said.
not to relax, but to start revising for Care of Magical Creatures, Potions and Astronomy.
Hagrid presided over the Care of Magical Creatures exam the following morning with a very preoccupied air indeed; his heart didn’t seem to be in it at all.
“Considering that Buckbeak is probably going to be killed, I think that it's understandable his heart isn't into the task,” Luna said.
He had provided a large tub of fresh Flobberworms for the class, and told them that, to pass the test, their Flobberworm had to still be alive at the end of one hour.
“That sounds like the easiest exam in the world,” Hermione said.
As Flobberworms flourished best if left to their own devices, it was the easiest exam any of them had ever sat, and also gave Harry, Ron and Hermione plenty of opportunity to speak to Hagrid.
“Beaky’s gettin’ a bit depressed,” Hagrid told them, bending low on the pretence of checking that Harry’s Flobberworm was still alive.
“I hope that he did that for everyone,” Harry said. “Otherwise people will know that he was trying to talk to me.”
“Bin cooped up too long. But still ... we’ll know day after tomorrow – one way or the other.”
They had Potions that afternoon, which was an unqualified disaster.
“Somehow, I have the feeling that I'm most likely not paying attention to what I'm doing right now,” Harry said.
Try as Harry might, he couldn’t get his Confusing Concoction to thicken, and Snape, standing watching with an air of vindictive pleasure, scribbled something that looked suspiciously like a zero onto his notes before moving away.
“I wonder if he would do that even if by potion was right,” Harry said.
Then came Astronomy at midnight, up on the tallest tower; History of Magic on Wednesday morning, in which Harry scribbled everything Florean Fortescue had ever told him about medieval witch hunts,
“Which probably means that your going to do pretty good on the test,” Hermione said.
while wishing he could have had one of Fortescue’s choco-nut sundaes with him in the stifling classroom.
“I doubt your the only one who wants something like that in the class,” Cedric said.
Wednesday afternoon meant Herbology, in the greenhouses under a baking hot sun; then back to the common room once more, with the backs of their necks sunburnt, thinking longingly of this time next day, when it would all be over.
“So we will soon be done. Thank god,” Harry said.
Their second from last exam, on Thursday morning, was Defence Against the Dark Arts.
“Which means that your last exam is most likely Divination, for you Harry,” Cedric said. “Particularly since they didn't mention anything about it yet.”
“So, after this is done, we'll most likely see what this whole deal about a prediction is about,” Luna said.
“I wonder what Professor Lupin's practical exam will be like. I mean, so far it seems like he's not the average teacher, so it would make sense if he exam reflected that,” Hermione said.
Professor Lupin had compiled the most unusual exam any of them had ever taken; a sort of obstacle course outside in the sun, where they had to wade across a deep paddling pool containing a Grindylow, cross a series of potholes full of Red Caps, squish their way across a patch of marsh, ignoring the misleading directions from a Hinkypunk, then climb into an old trunk and battle with a new Boggart.
“Looks like your right about how his test would be,” Harry said.
“Excellent, Harry,” Lupin muttered, as Harry climbed out of the trunk, grinning. “Full marks.”
Flushed with his success, Harry hung around to watch Ron and Hermione. Ron did very well until he reached the Hinkypunk, which successfully confused him into sinking waist-high into the quagmire.
“So he'll most likely get a lower score than me,” Harry noted. “I wonder how Professor Lupin is scoring this.”
“I wonder how they do the scoring for of the exams,” Hermione said. “I mean, I know how it is in Muggle school, but how is it done at Hogwarts?
“I...actually don't know,” Cedric said. “I just know what grade we get on things.”
“Do have any ideas on how it could be done?” Harry asked.
“Well, for ideas, I would believe that, on the exams that have a written and practical portion, each potion is half of your grade right there,” Cedric said. “For those that are just written, then I guess they count it as a point towards each question asked, while the practical part is, well, honestly, it depends on how they have it set up.”
Hermione did everything perfectly until she reached the trunk with the Boggart in it. After about a minute inside it, she burst out again, screaming.
“So I managed to get to the end,” Hermione said. “I wonder what I saw that scared me.”
“I have the feeling that you probably startled everyone because you screamed,” Harry said.
“Hermione!” said Lupin, startled. “What’s the matter?”
“P-P-Professor McGonagall!” Hermione gasped,
“Awe, no,” Hermione said, knowing what was going to happen next.
pointing into the trunk. “Sh-she said I’d failed everything!”
“I wonder if that is your fear, or if you just said that because you're hiding what you really saw,” Luna said.
“I would have to say, for now at least, it is my fear, because of the way I've been acting,” Hermione said. “With all the extra subjects and lack of sleep and food, I'm probably afraid that I'll do badly on everything, since I'm probably not doing as well as I could be, had I not done so many subjects.”
It took a little while to calm Hermione down. When at last she had regained a grip on herself, she, Harry and Ron went back to the castle. Ron was still slightly inclined to laugh at Hermione’s Boggart,
“It's not funny,” Hermione said. “And there's nothing saying that I was telling the truth in the book. I only think my book self was, after all.”
but an argument was averted by the sight that met them on the top of the steps.
Cornelius Fudge, sweating slightly in his pinstriped cloak,
“I take it that he didn't bother to change into something that would be more suitable for the weather,” Harry said.
“Seems like it,” Cedric said.
was standing there staring out at the grounds. He started at the sight of Harry.
“I guess he wasn't expecting to see me,” Harry said.
“Hello there, Harry!” he said. “Just had an exam, I expect? Nearly finished?”
“Yes,” said Harry.
“You know, that's going to be weird to see, you being on speaking terms with the Minister,” Hermione said.
Hermione and Ron, not being on speaking terms with the Minister for Magic, hovered awkwardly in the background.
“Well it's not like we've actually met him before,” Hermione said.
“Lovely day,” said Fudge, casting an eye over the lake. “Pity ... pity ...”
“Why is it a pity that it's a lovely day?” Harry asked.
“Why is he even there?” Hermione asked.
“I have the feeling that he's a witness for Buckbeak's execution,” Luna said.
He sighed deeply and looked down at Harry.
“I’m here on an unpleasant mission, Harry. The Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures required a witness to the execution of a mad Hippogriff.”
“Looks like you were right, Luna,” Harry said.
“As I needed to visit Hogwarts to check on the Black situation, I was asked to step in.”
“Why is he checking on the Black situation now instead of when it actually happened?” Hermione said, shaking her head. “I mean, you'd think that there'd be nothing more important than that.”
“Does that mean the appeal’s already happened?” Ron interrupted, stepping forwards.
“Well, that's one way to get over your shyness,” Luna said.
“No, no, it’s scheduled for this afternoon,” said Fudge, looking curiously at Ron.
“He's probably wondering who he is,” Cedric said.
“Then you might not have to witness an execution at all!” said Ron stoutly. “The Hippogriff might get off!”
“I have the feeling that, considering that it was Malfoy who got hurt, the Minister won't believe that. After all, with Malfoy's father being best friends with him, I'd doubt he'd let Buckbeak get away with having slashed Malfoy because Malfoy was an idiot,” Cedric said.
Before Fudge could answer, two wizards came through the castle doors behind him. One was so ancient he appeared to be withering before their very eyes;
“Really?” Hermione said, laughing with the others, shaking her head. “I think that says right there that he probably should retire.”
the other was tall and strapping, with a thin black moustache. Harry gathered that they were representatives of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures,
“Most likely, since I don't believe they're teachers,” Cedric said.
because the very old wizard squinted towards Hagrid’s cabin and said in a feeble voice, “Dear, dear, I’m getting too old for this ... two o’clock, isn’t it, Fudge?”
“So you can't be at the appeal, either,” Cedric said. “Shame, you might have been able to keep Buckbeak from being killed.” He was looking at Harry as he said that.
The black-moustached man was fingering something in his belt; Harry looked and saw that he was running one broad thumb along the blade of a shining axe.
“So, basically, they're saying that there's nothing that anyone can do, he's going to kill Buckbeak anyway,” Harry said, frowning.
“I have to wonder what he'd do if the verdict came back that would allow Buckbeak to live,” Hermione said.
“He would hopefully accept it,” Cedric said.
Ron opened his mouth to say something, but Hermione nudged him hard in the ribs and jerked her head towards the Entrance Hall.
“Yeah, smart idea,” Luna said. “He doesn't need to cause trouble for his father.”
“Why’d you stop me?” said Ron angrily,
“Because your father doesn't need you to start trouble by badmouthing his boss,” Hermione said. “I mean, I'm not happy about the fact either, but it's not something that can just be said to the Minister.”
as they entered the Great Hall for lunch. “Did you see them? They’ve even got the axe ready! This isn’t justice!”
“When you consider who's making the complaint, it makes sense that justice isn't done,” Hermione said.
“Ron, your dad works for the Ministry. You can’t go saying things like that to his boss!” said Hermione, but she, too, looked very upset.
“Of course I am. Not only is Buckbeak not that bad, but this is going to kill Hagrid,” Hermione said.
“As long as Hagrid keeps his head this time, and argues his case properly, they can’t possibly execute Buckbeak ...”
“I have the feeling that you don't actually believe that,” Harry said.
“I probably don't,” Hermione said.
But Harry could tell Hermione didn’t really believe what she was saying. All around them, people were talking excitedly as they ate their lunch, happily anticipating the end of exams that afternoon, but Harry, Ron and Hermione, lost in worry about Hagrid and Buckbeak, didn’t join in.
“Considering that Hagrid is a friend, I think it would be bad if we did join in,” Harry said.
Harry and Ron’s last exam was Divination; Hermione’s, Muggle Studies. They walked up the marble staircase together. Hermione left them on the first floor and Harry and Ron proceeded all the way up to the seventh, where many of their class were sitting on the spiral staircase to Professor Trelawney’s classroom, trying to cram in a bit of last-minute revision.
“I have to wonder what she's going to do,” Harry said.
“Who knows,” Cedric said.
“Who cares,” Hermione said at the same time.
“I kind of do, since I'm kind of in the class,” Harry said to Hermione.
“She’s seeing us all separately,” Neville informed them, as they went to sit down next to him.
“That's not too bad, then,” Cedric said.
He had his copy of Unfogging the Future open on his lap at the pages devoted to crystal-gazing.
“So she's going to have us try and see something in a crystal ball,” Harry said. “I wonder if I can just copy Ron and say that it's going to be foggy that night.”
“I don't think so,” Luna said, smiling at him as the others snorted.
“Have either of you ever seen anything in a crystal ball?” he asked them unhappily.
“No, not that I know of,” Harry said.
“Nope,” said Ron, in an offhand voice. He kept checking his watch; Harry knew that he was counting down the time until Buckbeak’s appeal started.
“It's too bad that we can't be there, to try and change their mind,” Harry said, sighing.
The queue of people outside the classroom shortened very slowly. As each person climbed back down the silver ladder, the rest of the class hissed, “What did she ask? Was it OK?”
But they all refused to say.
“I wonder if she threaten them not to say anything,” Hermione asked.
“I don't think she'd do that,” Cedric said.
“If she doesn't want them to say anything to those who haven't taken the test, all she would have to say is that something bad would happen to them, which is a threat,” Hermione said.
“Of course, I doubt any of them would actually realize it, since she'd most likely say that the crystal ball told her that something bad was going to happen,” Luna said. “But Hermione is right, it ultimately is a threat.”
“She says the crystal ball’s told her that, if I tell you, I’ll have a horrible accident!” squeaked Neville, as he clambered back down the ladder towards Harry and Ron, who had now reached the landing.
“Poor Neville,” Hermione said, shaking her head.
“That’s convenient,” snorted Ron.
“Isn't it?” Harry said.
“You know, I’m starting to think Hermione was right about her,” (he jabbed his thumb towards the trapdoor overhead), “she’s a right old fraud.”
“So he didn't realize that before,” Hermione said.
“Apparently the fraud is just that good at fooling people,” Luna said.
“Yeah,” said Harry, looking at his own watch. It was now two o’clock. “Wish she’d hurry up ...”
“I have the feeling that you're going to be among the last to be called up,” Cedric said.
Parvati came back down the ladder glowing with pride.
“She says I’ve got all the makings of a true Seer,” she informed Harry and Ron.
“Which probably means that she doesn't, and is just considered to be a favourite of Trelawney's,” Hermione said.
“Yeah, I can definitely see her being considered to be a favourite of Trelawney's, since she's gullible and easily impressed by her,” Luna said.
“I saw loads of stuff ... well, good luck!”
She hurried off down the spiral staircase towards Lavender.
“Ronald Weasley,” said the familiar, misty voice from over their heads. Ron grimaced at Harry, and climbed the silver ladder out of sight. Harry was now the only person left to be tested.
“I wonder if she purposely called you last. I mean, it kind of looks like she was calling everyone in order, so you should have been next, not Ron,” Cedric said.
“It does appear that she did that on purpose, though why, I don't know,” Harry said.
He settled himself on the floor with his back against the wall, listening to a fly buzzing in the sunny window, his mind across the grounds with Hagrid.
Finally, after about twenty minutes, Ron’s large feet reappeared on the ladder.
“I wonder how he did,” Harry said.
“How’d it go?” Harry asked him, standing up.
“Rubbish,” said Ron. “Couldn’t see a thing, so I made some stuff up. Don’t think she was convinced, though ...”
“Well, considering that she likes to predict that bad things are going to happen, I'd say that, so long as you say you see something bad going to happen, you'll pass,” Hermione said.
“And how do you figure that?” Cedric asked.
“The fact that she kept predicting that something bad was going to happen to several people in the first class, as well as the fact that she had not only said that Harry is being haunted by the Grim and therefore going to die, but that she does that in every class she has, according to Professor McGonagall. And I don't think that Professor McGonagall would lie about it, since it's doubtful that she would dislike her that much without Trelawney doing that practice,” Hermione said.
“Meet you in the common room,” Harry muttered, as Professor Trelawney’s voice called, “Harry Potter!”
The tower room was hotter than ever before; the curtains were closed, the fire was alight, and the usual sickly scent made Harry cough
“I am definitely not going to be in this class,” Harry muttered.
as he stumbled through the clutter of chairs and tables to where Professor Trelawney sat waiting for him before a large crystal ball.
“Good day, my dear,” she said softly. “If you would kindly gaze into the Orb ... take your time, now ... then tell me what you see within it ...”
“Since I'm not a Seer, I probably won't See anything,” Harry said.
Harry bent over the crystal ball and stared, stared as hard as he could, willing it to show him something other than swirling white fog, but nothing happened.
“Well?” Professor Trelawney prompted delicately. “What do you see?”
"Not very patient, is she?” Luna said.
The heat was overpowering and his nostrils were stinging with the perfumed smoke wafting from the fire beside them. He thought of what Ron had just said, and decided to pretend.
“Probably the best thing to do under the circumstances,” Hermione said.
“You actually encouraging me to lie in a test,” Harry said.
“Well, in all honesty, it's not like it's going to do you any bad,” Hermione said. “It's not like she can actually know if your lying or not, after all.”
“Er –,” said Harry, “a dark shape ... um ...”
“What does it resemble?” whispered Professor Trelawney. “Think, now ...”
Harry cast his mind around and it landed on Buckbeak.
“A Hippogriff,” he said firmly.
“I wonder what you're going to say that you See that has to do with Buckbeak,” Luna said.
“Indeed!” whispered Professor Trelawney, scribbling keenly on the parchment perched upon her knees. “My boy, you may well be seeing the outcome of poor Hagrid’s trouble with the Ministry of Magic! Look closer ... does the Hippogriff appear to ... have its head?”
“Yes,” said Harry firmly.
“Are you sure?” Professor Trelawney urged him. “Are you quite sure, dear? You don’t see it writhing on the ground, perhaps, and a shadowy figure raising an axe behind it?”
“Oh, she's sick,” Hermione said.
“Really sick,” Harry said. “How could she be trying to push me into saying that Buckbeak is going to die?”
“She's doing it because it's morbid,” Luna said. “She won't like it if it's actually good news, after all.”
“No!” said Harry, starting to feel slightly sick.
“No blood? No weeping Hagrid?”
“No!” said Harry again, wanting more than ever to leave the room and the heat. “It looks fine, it’s – flying away ...”
Professor Trelawney sighed.
“Of course,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes. “It's not horrible, so it has to be disappointing to hear.”
“Well, dear, I think we’ll leave it there ... a little disappointing ... but I’m sure you did your best.”
“I wonder what she's going to do if what you predicted turns out to be true,” Cedric said. “I mean, I doubt that you're going to be willing not to do something to help Buckbeak out.”
Relieved, Harry got up, picked up his bag and turned to go, but then a loud, harsh voice spoke behind him.
“It will happen tonight.”
“Huh?” Harry said. “What will happen tonight?”
“I don't know,” Cedric said.
Harry wheeled around. Professor Trelawney had gone rigid in her armchair; her eyes were unfocused and her mouth sagging.
“What's going on with her?” Hermione asked. Luna had a thoughtful look on her face, having an idea of what might be going on.
“S-sorry?” said Harry.
But Professor Trelawney didn’t seem to hear him. Her eyes started to roll. Harry stood there in a panic. She looked as though she was about to have some sort of seizure.
“She's not,” Luna said. “Apparently, she actually is a real Seer. She's about to give a prophecy, in fact.”
“Really?” Hermione said, looking skeptical.
“Yes,” Luna said. “And, before you ask, when a prophecy is given, it means that, no matter what you try to do, it will eventually come to pass. It's different from a prediction because of that. And the reason why she went all wronky is because it's the Fates themselves who are delivering this message . She's basically a conduct for them.”
“How do you know that?” Harry asked.
“My Great-Grandmother is a Seer,” Luna said. “I remember asking her about it, and she told me this, among other things about Seers. She also delivered a prophecy in front of me, though I don't remember what it said.”
“Is your great-grandmother the reason why you don't seem to care for Trelawney?” Hermione asked. Luna nodded.
“As I said before, it's people like her who can cause problems for Seers,” Luna said. “Of course, I was under the impression that Trelawney was actually a fraud, not a Seer, which now makes me wonder why she's the way that she is.”
He hesitated, thinking of running to the hospital wing –
“Just wait it out,” Luna said.
and then Professor Trelawney spoke again, in the same harsh voice, quite unlike her own:
“The Dark Lord lies alone and friendless, abandoned by his followers. His servant has been chained these twelve years. Tonight, before midnight, the servant will break free and set out to rejoin his master. The Dark Lord will rise again with his servant’s aid, greater and more terrible than ever before. Tonight ... before midnight ... the servant ... will set out ... to rejoin ... his master ...”
“Aw, man,” Harry said, frowning. “Are you sure that this is something that will happen?”
“Yes,” Luna said, also frowning. “Though, after hearing it, I wish that it wouldn't.”
“So, someone who has been chained the last few years will break free and rejoin Riddle,” Hermione said, frowning. “Well, I think that right there says that Black is innocent, as he's the only one in the book who is believed to be a servant to Riddle, but he's been free for almost a whole year, and whoever the servant is going to be breaking free this very night in the book.”
“Very true,” Cedric said.
“Which makes me wonder who the servant is?” Luna said.
Professor Trelawney’s head fell forwards onto her chest. She made a grunting sort of noise. Then, quite suddenly, her head snapped up again.
“I’m so sorry, dear boy,” she said dreamily. “The heat of the day, you know ... I drifted off for a moment ...”
“She doesn't remember?” Harry said.
Luna laughed. “No, apparently she doesn't,” she said. “Which most likely means that she's done something bad, since most Seers do remember their prophecies, and the only time they don't is if they did something wrong.”
“So, she's being punished,” Hermione said.
“Exactly,” Luna said.
Harry stood there, still staring.
“Is there anything wrong, my dear?”
“You – you just told me that the – the Dark Lord’s going to rise again ... that his servant’s going to go back to him ...”
Professor Trelawney looked thoroughly startled.
“I have to say that I'm glad that she doesn't remember,” Luna said. “She doesn't deserve to be called a Seer, and therefore doesn't deserve to remember her prophecies. Knowing her, of course, the prophecies that allow for some room for things to happen could easily be made to allow her to have any many people killed if she remembered them.”
“The Dark Lord? He Who Must Not Be Named? My dear boy, that’s hardly something to joke about ... rise again, indeed ...”
“But you just said it! You said the Dark Lord –“
“I think you must have dozed off too, dear!” said Professor Trelawney. “I would certainly not presume to predict anything quite as far-fetched as that!”
“But you have no problem saying that a student, who is thirteen or fourteen years old, is going to die,” Hermione said, eyebrow raised as if Trelawney was actually in the room to see it.
Harry climbed back down the ladder and the spiral staircase, wondering ... had he just heard Professor Trelawney make a real prediction? Or had that been her idea of an impressive end to the test?
“No, an impressive end, to her, would probably be predicting your death once again,” Luna said. “And she can't really do that and make it dramatic without an audience.”
Five minutes later he 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;
“And the only reason why we're not is because we're waiting for you,” Hermione said, referring to herself and Ron when she said 'we'.
by the time he had reached the portrait hole and entered the common room, it was almost deserted. Over in a corner, however, sat Ron and Hermione.
“Professor Trelawney,” Harry panted,
“Somehow, I don't think that I'll really be listening to that,” Hermione said. “Particularly with who you start talking about.
“just told me –“
But he stopped abruptly at the sight of their faces.
“I have the feeling that news about the appeal was given while Harry was finishing up with Trelawney,” Luna said.
“Buckbeak lost,” said Ron weakly. “Hagrid’s 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.
“I have a feeling that he's in shock,” Hermione said.
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
“I have the feeling that we're not going to listen to the don't come down part of the message,” Hermione said.
“You're not the only one with that feeling,” Cedric said.
“We’ve got to go,” said Harry at once. “He can’t just sit there on his own, waiting for the executioner!”
“You've got a problem, though,” Cedric said. “It's to happen at sunset. You, Harry, at the moment, are not allowed to go out without supervision, and I don't think people would be happy to see you there to see an execution.”
“Sunset, though,’ said Ron, who was staring out of 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 ...”
“I still haven't gone back for it,” Harry said, sounding surprised.
“Where is it?” said Hermione.
Harry told her 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.
“That's an understatement,” Cedric said.
“That’s true,” said Hermione, getting to her feet. “If he sees you ... how do you open the witch’s hump again?”
“You – you tap it and say, 'Dissendium',” said Harry. “But –“
Hermione didn’t wait for the rest of his sentence; she strode across the room, pushed the Fat Lady’s portrait open and vanished from sight.
“You've gone to get it, haven't you?” Luna said.
“I have the feeling that I have,” Hermione said.
“She hasn’t gone to get it?” Ron said, staring after her.
“It seems that my actions are extremely out of character to him,” Hermione said.
She had. Hermione returned a quarter of an hour later with the silvery Cloak folded carefully under her robes.
“Hermione, I don’t know what’s got into you lately!” said Ron, astounded. “First you hit Malfoy, then you walk out on Professor Trelawney –“
Hermione looked rather flattered.
The Hermione in the room frowned a bit, wondering why what Ron was saying should flatter her, then figured that it was because she'd impressed him though a means that didn't have to do with school work.
They went down to dinner with everybody else, but did not return to Gryffindor Tower afterwards. Harry had the Cloak hidden down the front of his robes; he had to keep his arms folded to hide the lump.
“Let's hope that no one noticed that,” Luna said.
“It might have been better to have me hold them,” Hermione said. “While I would hate it, I doubt anyone would look twice at me having any extra weight.”
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.
“Someone's in a hurry,” Harry said.
Hermione poked her head around the door.
“OK,” she whispered, “no one there – Cloak on –“
“I hope that it'll still cover all three of you,” Cedric said.
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.
“So it's almost time,” Hermione said.
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.
There were frowns from the four. It seemed wrong to them that Hagrid was like that. They were used to hearing about him being cheery, after all.
“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.
“I have the feeling that, while he believes that, he's a bit happy to see you guys, and to know that you want to support him,” Cedric said.
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.
“I really don't like the sound of that,” Hermione said.
“It must be worse to actually see,” Harry said, frowning.
This helplessness was worse to watch than tears.
“Apparently, it is,” Luna said.
“Wan’ some tea?” he said. His great hands were shaking as he reached for the kettle.
“Where’s Buckbeak, Hagrid?” said Hermione hesitantly.
“Probably outside,” Harry said.
“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.
“I really, really hope that a miracle will happen,” Luna said.
“Your not the only one,” Hermione said.
“I’ll do it, Hagrid,” said Hermione quickly, hurrying over and starting to clean up the mess.
“There’s another one in the cupboard,” Hagrid said, sitting down and wiping his forehead on his sleeve. Harry glanced at Ron, who looked back hopelessly.
“We have no clue what to do,” Harry said.
“Isn’t there anything anyone can do, Hagrid?” Harry asked fiercely, sitting down next to him. “Dumbledore –“
“Has probably tried or done all he could,” Cedric said.
“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 ...”
“Okay, that makes me now think that, being a friend of Malfoy's father, the executioner will most likely not be happy to just let Buckbeak go,” Luna said, frowning.
Hagrid swallowed. His eyes were darting all over the cabin, as though looking for some shred of hope or comfort.
“Somehow, unless Buckbeak manages to free himself without Hagrid being accused of setting him free,” Cedric said.
“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 ...”
“We'll stay with him as well,” Hermione said.
“Somehow, I don't think that he's going to let us,” Harry said.
Hermione, who had been rummaging in Hagrid’s cupboard for another milk jug, let out a small, quickly stifled sob. She straightened up with the new jug in her hands, fighting back tears.
“We’ll stay with you, too, Hagrid,” she began, but Hagrid shook his shaggy 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.”
“I knew that he wouldn't want us to be watching,” Harry said.
Silent tears were now streaming down Hermione’s face, but she hid them from Hagrid, bustling around making tea. Then, as she picked up the milk bottle to pour some into the jug, she let out a shriek.
“What is it?” Luna asked.
“I don't know,” Hermione said.
“Ron! I – I don’t believe it – it’s Scabbers!”
“Oh, so you finally find him,” Harry said. "And how do you not believe it?"
"Probably because he's been gone for quite a while. That, or I started believe that Scabbers was indeed dead," Hermione said.
“Looks like Ron will definitely know that he owes Hermione an apology,” Luna said.
“So far that I can tell, Ron hasn't apologized for the few things he really should do so towards you,” Harry said.
“Well, it's not like I've apologized to him either,” Hermione said.
“Yeah, but from what I can tell, the times he does something tend to really hurt you. I mean, first time, you almost get killed by a troll after he was mean to you, and then this time, he hurt you by not speaking to you and blaming you for your cat's actions when your cat didn't do anything,” Harry said. “He didn't apologize either times, though he really should have. He just ignores it. And who knows how many times his words that are not mentioned in the books so far have hurt you. I mean, considering how often it mentions you and him bickering, I get the feeling that he probably hurts you when he does that sometimes as well.”
“I have the feeling that I return it back, though, at least, for the bickering,” Hermione said, though, upon thinking about it, she knew that Harry was right. The way Ron hadn't been mentioned as saying sorry to her – so far – was a bit disconcerting.
Ron gaped at her.
“What are you talking about?”
“I just said what I'm talking about,” Hermione said.
Hermione 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 Ron blankly. “Scabbers, what are you doing here?”
He 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 Ron’s hands as though desperate to free himself.
“You know, I wonder if Scabbers is the 'servant' talked about in the prophecy,” Luna said. “If what we suspect is true, and he's not actually a rat.”
“Well, we do believe that Black is after Scabbers, so that does seem to suggest that he's not a rat. That aside, it does make a bit of sense. I mean, one could say that staying as a rat for twelve years could be considered as chained down,” Harry said.
“But why would the person stay as a rat for that long?” Hermione asked.
“He'd probably do it for two reasons. One, it's known that he's a Riddle follower, and he's hiding because of that; or two, people believe that he's dead, and being seen as alive could ruin whatever reason why he's pretending to be dead,” Cedric said.
“You know, when put like that – for the last part, anyway – then that kind of narrows it down quite a bit,” Luna said. “I mean, there really is only one person who I can see Black being after who faked their death, that we can tell in the book.”
“She's right,” Hermione said, realizing what Luna was getting to. “Remember, when we heard what most people know about why Black's in jail, because he 'killed' Pettigrew. And yet, when they talked about it, most of what was said seemed to point towards Black not being quite as guilty as it seems, and Pettigrew not being quite as dead as he seems.”
“You mean, Scabbers could be Pettigrew,” Harry said.
“It's very possible. And it might explain why Scabbers is the way that he is. He knows that Black is after him,” Hermione said.
“Well, it seems that Black probably is innocent, since, if Scabbers is not only Pettigrew, but Pettigrew is the servant talked about in the prophecy, then it also means that Black is probably also innocent of the charge of leading Voldemort to the Potters, though we already suspected that anyway,” Cedric said.
“Of course, thanks to the prophecy, it also means that there is no way for Black to be freed as he'll escape,” Luna said.
“Which also means that Black will have to go on the run, meaning that Harry won't be able to hear more about his parents or be able to live with him,” Hermione said, sighing.
“It’s OK, Scabbers!” said Ron. “No cats! There’s nothing here to hurt you!”
“That's known of,” Harry said.
Hagrid suddenly stood up, his eyes fixed on the window. His normally ruddy face had gone the colour of parchment.
“They’re comin’ ...”
“Which means that we need to get out of there,” Hermione said.
Harry, Ron and Hermione whipped around. A group of men was walking down the distant castle steps. In front was Albus Dumbledore, his silver beard gleaming in the dying sun. Next to him trotted Cornelius Fudge. Behind them came the feeble old Committee member and the executioner, Macnair.
“You know, it's kind of weird that all but the Committee member's name is known,” Harry said.
“I think that's only because Hagrid mentioned who the executioner's name was,” Luna said. “Otherwise, his name wouldn't be known either.”
“Yeh gotta go,” said Hagrid. Every inch of him was trembling. “They mustn’ find yeh here ... go on, now ...”
Ron stuffed Scabbers into his pocket and Hermione picked up the Cloak.
“I’ll let yeh out the back way,” said Hagrid.
“Yeah, that's probably a good idea, since I don't think it would be a good idea to even give a hint that your there,” Luna said.
They followed him to the door into his back garden. Harry felt strangely unreal, and even more so when he saw Buckbeak a few yards away, tethered to a tree behind Hagrid’s pumpkin patch. Buckbeak seemed to know something was happening. He turned his sharp head from side to side, and pawed the ground nervously.
“I wonder if he's realizing what's going to happen exactly,” Harry said.
“It’s OK, Beaky,” said Hagrid softly. “It’s OK ...” He turned to Harry, Ron and Hermione. “Go on,” he said. “Get goin'.”
“I don't think we're going to want to,” Harry said.
But they didn’t move.
“Hagrid, we can’t –“
“We’ll tell them what really happened –“
“I think that right there says that it's suspected that Malfoy's father lied,” Harry said.
“I think it's obvious that he did,” Hermione said. “I mean, I don't think that they'd punish a hippogriff for doing something that's in it's nature, would they? Cause, if they did, then they'd have to do it for any animal that does what's in it's nature.”
“True, when put like that,it's obvious that he did,” Cedric said.
“They can’t kill him –“
“Go!” said Hagrid fiercely. “It’s bad enough without you lot in trouble an’ all!”
“Now that give us no other choice but to go,” Harry said.
They had no choice. As Hermione threw the Cloak over Harry and Ron, they heard voices at the front of the cabin. Hagrid looked at the place where they had just vanished from sight.
“Go quick,” he said hoarsely. “Don’ listen ...'
And he strode back into his cabin as someone knocked at the front door.
“I hope that no one heard the back door close,” Hermione said.
Slowly, in a kind of horrified trance, Harry, Ron and Hermione set off silently around Hagrid’s house. As they reached the other side, the front door closed with a sharp snap.
“It's a good thing that you have the cloak,” Cedric said. “Because that was a little too close for comfort.”
“Please, let’s hurry,” Hermione whispered. “I can’t stand it, I can’t bear it ...”
“It's one thing to stay there to support Hagrid, another thing entirely to watch them kill Buckbeak,” Hermione said.
They started up the sloping lawn towards the castle. The sun was sinking fast now; the sky had turned to a clear, purple-tinged grey, but to the west there was a ruby-red glow.
Ron stopped dead.
“Why is he stopping.? Does he want to witness Buckbeak's death?” Harry said, incredulously.
“Oh, please, Ron,” Hermione began.
“It’s Scabbers – he won’t – stay put –“
Ron was bent over, trying to keep Scabbers in his pocket, but the rat was going berserk; squeaking madly, twisting and flailing, trying to sink his teeth into Ron’s hand.
“He doesn't like being in the open,” Luna said.
“I wonder if he's sensing another animal nearby,” Hermione said.
“It could be that as well,” Luna said.
“Scabbers, it’s me, you idiot, it’s Ron,” Ron hissed.
They heard a door open behind them and men’s voices.
“Oh Ron, please let’s move, they’re going to do it!” Hermione breathed.
“Yes, please lets get out of there,” Harry said. He didn't want to hear Buckbeaks death either.
“OK – Scabbers, stay put –“
They walked forwards; Harry, like Hermione, was trying not to listen to the rumble of voices behind them. Ron stopped again.
“I can’t hold him – Scabbers, shut up, everyone’ll hear us –“
“Which really wouldn't be a good thing, since you're underneath the cloak,” Cedric said.
The rat was squealing wildly, but not loudly enough to cover up the sounds drifting from Hagrid’s garden. There was a jumble of indistinct male voices,
“So you at least far away enough not to hear what's being said,” Cedric said.
a silence and then, without warning, the unmistakeable swish and thud of an axe.
Hermione swayed on the spot.
“They did it!” she whispered to Harry. “I d-don’t believe it – they did it!”
“I should believe it, though,” Hermione said.
“That's the end of the chapter,” Luna said somberly, handing the book over to Harry. He placed a bookmark in it.
“I do believe that it's time to eat,” Harry said, his stomach growling at the idea of eating. Cedric's stomach followed suit.
“All right, lets go eat,then,” Hermione said, and the four headed to the kitchen. They maid some grilled cheese sandwiches, and had a side of fruit with it.
“How many chapters do you think are left in the book?” Hermione asked as they ate.
“Dunno, there's really no way for us to know,” Cedric said. “I will say that we're probably close to the end, though, and that there are not that many chapters left in the book.”
“I kind of wish there was a way to know,” Hermione said. “And not just for this book, either. Considering how big the next two books are, I have to wonder if the chapters are huge, or if they're are a lot of chapters in them.”
“It's probably a mix of the two,” Luna said. “I'm sure that the chapters are bigger than, say, the one we just read, but I'm also sure that it's separated into quite a few chapters as well.”
They finished eating then, and cleaned up, heading back to the reading room once they were done. Harry picked up the book from where he had placed it, and opened it up to the next chapter.