Chapter Three: Havoc of the Hippogriffs
The next morning Harish awoke early and went to the Great Hall for breakfast without the twins. He sat in the center of the table and served himself some food. Then, after ten minutes, the twins showed up with the rest of Harish's crew.
"You're up early," the twins said in unison as they sat on either side of their best friend.
Harish shrugged. "I guess I slept well," he replied simply.
Everyone started eating and Harish leaned back slightly as he finished his own plate. He watched conversations bounce back and forth with mild interest and Egelbert hopped along the table, snatching bananas out of students' hands. Then, Professor Snape went down the Slytherin table, handing out schedule. While Fred and George were talking about what their father had said about prisoners of Azkaban going mad, Hermione leaned over and inspected her schedule.
"Oh, look! We're starting some new classes today!"
Everyone leaned forward over her shoulders to view it. Draco looked confused, Daphne looked skeptical, and the twins' mouths fell open in shock.
"Hermione," Fred said weakly. "I think they've got your schedule wrong."
Hermione shook her head and buttered her toast.
"Look!" Draco said pointing to it. "They have her down for about ten subjects a day!"
"I already talked to Professor McGonagall about it," Hermione replied. "I've got it all worked out. Can you pass the marmalade?"
"But look!" George exclaimed. "Nine o'clock, Ancient Runes."
"Nine o'clock Arithmancy," Fred added.
"And—Nine o'clock, Transfiguration!" both twins ended in disbelief.
"So my schedule is a bit full," Hermione replied. "What's it to you?"
"Hermione, there's not enough time in one day," Harish finally said. Everyone nodded, as if him saying this finalized it.
TOO-TRUE—TOO-TRUE
The fifth years' first class was Care of Magical Creatures, just like the year before. As the class went down to gather outside of Hagrid's hut, Harish vaguely wondered if he would be as good as Professor Kettleburn. Hagrid was waiting for them down at his hut. He wore his moleskin overcoat and a giant Boarhound, Fang, quivered at his heels.
"Come on now, get a move on!" Hagrid called to the class as they rounded the grassy hill. "Got a real treat for yeh today! Everyone here? Right, follow me!"
For one hopeful minute, Harish thought the giant man was leading them into the forest, but then he drew short and turned a corner, revealing a large paddock.
"Everyone gather 'round the fence here!" he called. "That's it—make sure yeh can see—now, firs' thing you'll need to do is open yer books."
"And how exactly do we do that?" Harish drawled.
"Eh?"
"How do we open our books?" Harish said slowly. He pulled out his copy of Monster Book of Monsters.
"Hasn'—hasn' anyone bin able ter open their books?" Hagrid asked, looking crestfallen.
All of the fifth years shook their heads.
"Yeh've got ter stroke em," Hagrid stated as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. "Look—"
He took Harish's book from him and ripped off the rope the boy had bound it with. The book tried to bite, but Hagrid ran a giant finger down its spine, the book quivered, and then fell open. Soon, the class did as he demonstrated and he handed Harish his book back. Harish flipped through it, making sure that it wasn't going to bite him.
"Now yeh have yer books, yeh need yer Magical Creatures. So I'll go an' get 'em. Hang on…"
He strode away from them and out of sight.
"He doesn't seem to know what he's doing does he?" Harish asked the twins quietly.
"What're those?" a Ravenclaw asked suddenly.
The trio turned to see Hagrid leading several bizarre creatures towards them. They had bodies, hind legs, and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings, and heads of what seemed to be giant eagles. The talons on the front legs were a foot long and deadly looking. Each of the beasts had a thick leather collar around its neck, which was attached to a chain.
Hagrid trotted up there and tethered them to the paddock.
"Hippogriffs!" he roared happily, waving a wand at them. "Beau'iful, aren't they?"
Harish could kind of see what the giant man meant. Once one got over the giant talons and beady eyes, they would be able to appreciate the hippogriffs' gleaming fathers.
"So," Hagrid said, rubbing his hands together and beaming around, "if yeh wan' ter come a bit nearer—" No one seemed to want to, but the giant man didn't seem to notice. "Now firs' thing yeh gotta know about hippogriffs is they're proud. Easily offended, hippogriffs are. Don't ever insult one 'cause it might be the last thing yeh do. Yeh always wait fer the hippogriff to make the firs' move…"
The man continued on how to approach the hippogriffs and how to get one to let you come near. Then, he finally said, "Right—who wants ter go first?"
All of the class backed up slightly, Harish included. Those creatures might have looked interesting and a little bit cool, but Harish did not have a death wish.
"No one?" Hagrid pleaded.
Either out of sudden boldness or pity for their new professor, a Ravenclaw stepped tentatively forward.
"Good lad!" Hagrid said, clapping the boy on the back so hard it made his knees buckle. Then, he helped the boy come up to the hippogriff. Once the boy was seated firmly on the beast's back, everyone else was allowed to pair up with a hippogriff. Harish and the twins went and stood over towards a dappled, gray one. Harish bowed low to it and waited for a moment. Then, the creature bowed in return on one knee. Harish then nervously stepped forward and touched its beak.
When it didn't seem to mind, Harish started rubbing it.
"You're a fine thing, aren't you?" he asked.
The hippogriff tossed its head in agreement. Harish then swung himself onto the beast's back. George stood down in front of it, petting its beak now. Then, he slipped a yellow sweet out of his pocket. The creature sniffed at it with interest.
"You want it?" George asked.
The hippogriff tossed its head.
"Alright," George replied.
He held it out in the palm of his hand and the hippogriff gulped it down. Then, its eye widened and suddenly it reared back. Harish, who had no idea what was going on, clung on for dear life as the hippogriff ripped through the chain it was tethered with and flew off.
Fred and George ran desperately after it until it took off into the air. When it did, they ran back and grabbed two hippogriffs of their own.
"Oi!" Hagrid shouted, but they couldn't hear him, even as he bellowed and waved his arms back and forth. The three boys were all flying away from their class.
In textbooks, the flight of the hippogriff might be described as graceful or calm, but this flight was far from that. It was evident that whatever George fed that bird, it contain a high amount of caffeine. Within a minute, it was flying in circles, blasting by trees, and soaring through archways. But, even with all the chaos, Harish loved it. It was thrilling. The wind rushed past his ears in a roar, ruffling his hair.
After a few minutes, he heard faint shouting coming from behind him. The teen glanced back and saw Fred and George on hippogriffs, flying after him. Then, the twins started shouting louder, and waving their arms. Harish was slightly confused, but he turned around. It was then that he saw that the beast he was on was flying at very fast speeds straight towards the astronomy tower. Harish yelled and dug his knees into it, making it go even faster.
Then, the twins flew up underneath him and he jumped off, onto George's hippogriff. When they touched back down, Hagrid was very angry. He assigned the three of them extra essays on hippogriffs and stomped off to retrieve the one Harish had jumped from, which had swerved out of the way in the last second and started flying in loops.
UH-OH—POOR-BUCKBEAK
"How do we get up?" Ron asked, gazing around, trying to figure out how to get into their Divination classroom. He, Neville, and the other Gryffindors were gathered on a platform, ready for their first class.
Just then, the trapdoor opened and a silvery ladder descended right at the boy's feet. Everyone got quiet. Then, Ron climbed up it, followed by the rest of the class.
They emerged into the strangest classroom in all of Hogwarts. In fact, it didn't look like a classroom at all but more like a cross between an old attic and Madam Puddifoot's tea shop down in Hogsmeade. At least twenty round tables were crammed into the room, each one surrounded by a number of poufs and chintz armchairs. Everything was lit with a dim crimson light; the curtains were a dark red and scarlet scarves draped over all of the lamps. It was stiflingly hot, and the fire that was burning in the fireplace was giving off a sickly sweet perfume that was very strong. There were shelves lining the circular walls full of an assortment of quills, large glass balls, packs of playing cards, old candle stubs and a wide array of different teacups. All of it combined created a very sleepy atmosphere, and Ron couldn't help yawning.
"Where's Professor Trelawney?" Parvati Patil whispered. The room had a whole feel to it that was similar to a library.
A voice suddenly came out of the shadows, a soft misty sort of voice.
"Welcome," it said. "How nice it is to see you all in the physical world at last."
As she spoke, nearly everyone jumped out of their skins. Professor Trelawney emerged from the shadows. She was just as odd as her classroom was. The professor was very thin and her eyes were magnified to ten times their regular size by a pair of large, round glasses. She was draped in many shawls. Innumerable beads hung from her thin neck and bangles and rings adorned her hands.
"Welcome to Divination," the professor said in hardly a whisper. "My name is Professor Trelawney. You may not have seen me much because I find that leaving my tower and joining the regular hustle and bustle of the rest of the castle clouds my Inner Eye."
No one said a word to this peculiar announcement. Trelawney seated herself in a winged armchair and indicated for the class to do the same. She delicately arranged her shawl and continued, "So you have chosen to study Divination, the most difficult of all magical arts. I must warn you at the outset that if you do not have the Sight, there is very little I will be able to teach you. Books can take you only so far in this field… It is a gift granted to very few. You, boy," she said suddenly to Neville. "Is your grandmother well?"
"Yeah…" he mumbled, sounding somewhat confused.
"I wouldn't be so sure of that if I were you, dear," she replied, the firelight glinting on her long emerald earrings. "We will be covering the basic methods of Divination this year. The first term will be devoted to reading the tea leaves. Next term we shall progress to palmistry. By the way, my dear," she said to Parvati. "Beware red haired men." Parvati glanced at Ron before scooting her chair away. "In the second term," Professor Trelawney went on, "we shall progress to the crystal ball—if we have finished fire omens, that is. Unfortunately classes will be disrupted in March by a nasty bout of flu. I myself will lose my voice. I wonder, dear, if you could pass me that teapot?"
Lavender Brown stood up, took an enormous teapot from the shelf, and put it on the table in front of the batty Professor. Trelawney then spoke again, this time to her. "Thank you, my dear. Incidentally, that thing you are dreading—it will happen on Friday the sixteenth of October. Now I want you all to divide into pairs. Collect a teacup from the shelf, come to me, and I will fill it. Then sit down and drink, drink until only the dregs remain. Swill these around the cup three times with the left hand, then turn the cup upside down on its saucer, wait for the last of the tea to drain out, then give your cup to your partner for them to decipher. You will use pages five and six of Unfogging the Future to interpret the tea leaves. Oh, and dear," She caught Neville's arm as he made to stand up. "After you've broken your first cup, can you use a blue one instead? I rather like the pink ones."
Ron sighed and stood up, following Neville. They got their cups and sure enough, Neville broke the first one. Then, after Neville got a new cup, they sat down and drank their tea until only the dregs remained, as instructed. They swilled them and then swapped cups.
After they opened their books to pages five and six, Neville asked Ron, "Alright, what can you see in mine?"
"A load of brown soggy stuff," the boy replied yawning. The room was making him feel very stupid and sleepy.
"How about I do yours?" Neville asked. Ron nodded, yawning. "Well, you've got a sort of crooked cross…" he consulted his book to see what that meant. "That means you're going to have trials and suffering?—Yeah that's right—But, that looks like the sun, which I think is happiness. So you're going to suffer…but you'll be happy about it."
"You need your Inner Eye tested, if you ask me," Ron muttered and they both had to stifle their laughter as Trelawney gazed in their direction.
SUFFER-HAPPILY—RON
After the fiasco in Care of Magical Creatures, the fifth year Slytherins went to Transfiguration sore and dusty. Harish chose a seat towards the back and the twins sat on either side of him. Then, Professor McGonagall came into the room as the bell rang.
"As you know," She said grimly, "Your OWL's are coming up this year. You cannot pass an OWL without serious application, practice, and study. I see no reason why everyone in this class should not gain an OWL in Transfiguration as long as they put in the work. So…today we are starting Vanishing Spells. These are easier than Conjuring Spells, which you would not usually attempt until NEWT level, but they are still among the most difficult magic you will be tested on in your OWL."
She was right. The Vanishing Spell was—slightly difficult. It took Harish several tries to manage to perform it and the twins still hadn't vanished their snails by the end of the class. George sadly poked his snail with his wand, mumbling about how it looked slightly paler. But, he was not the only one who hadn't managed to vanish his snail. In fact, Harish was the only one that actually did. Once again, he was the only one not given homework; everyone else was told to practice the spell overnight and be ready for a fresh attempt on the spell the following afternoon.
At lunch, all of the fifth years were doing some sort of homework. Harish finished up his essay on hippogriffs, The twins lazily flicked their wands while they ate, practicing for Transfiguration. The Gryffindors were all working hard, looking up the uses of moonstone for Potions. By the time they had Herbology, Harish's head was aching.
In that class, they got the same spiel about OWL's and studying. Harish shook his head sadly. It looked like he would actually have to work hard this year.
WORK?!—IT'S-THE-END-OF-THE-WORLD!
The third year Slytherins went to their first class of Defense Against the Dark Arts of the year while the fifth years were in Herbology. Professor Lupin wasn't in the classroom when they first arrived. They all sat down, took out their books, quills, and parchment, and were talking when he finally arrived. Lupin smiled vaguely, looking just as shabby as he had on the train. He set down his tattered briefcase on the desk and then turned to address them.
"Good afternoon," he said. "Would you please put all your books back in your bags? Today's lesson will be a practical one. You will need only your wands."
The Slytherins exchanged curious looks. They had never had any practical lessons before. From what they heard, the Gryffindors had had one the previous year, but it had been a disaster. Still, Hermione, Draco, and Daphne pulled their wands out.
"Right then," Lupin said once everyone was ready. "If you'd follow me, then."
Puzzled but interested, the class got to its feet and followed Lupin out of the room. He led them along an empty corridor, around a corner, and through the nearest door. Inside was a paneled room full of old, mismatched chairs. The room was completely empty. After the class had filed in, Lupin shut the door behind them.
"Now, then," he said, walking to stand in front of the wardrobe in the corner. "I will need a volunteer."
Hermione shot her hand up instantly while everyone else stood looking around. Lupin waited a moment to be sure no one else wanted to volunteer. After a second, Theodore Nott slowly put his hand up. Then, he said, "All right then, Mr. Nott. If you would come and stand up here please?"
As the boy stopped beside him, the wardrobe rattled rather violently. Draco jumped and whimpered, causing a bemused look from Daphne and Hermione.
"Nothing to worry about," Lupin said calmly. "There's a boggart in there. Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces. Wardrobes, underneath beds, the cupboards under sinks—I once met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. This one moved in this morning, and I asked the headmaster if the staff would leave to give my third years some practice. So, can anyone tell me what a boggart is?"
Hermione's hand shot up once again.
"Miss Granger?" Lupin called.
"It's a shape shifter," she stated. "It can take shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most."
"Couldn't have put it better myself," Professor Lupin replied, causing Hermione to glow with pride. "So the boggart sitting in the darkness has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears. This means that we have a huge advantage over it. Why? Miss Greengrass?"
Daphne put her hand back down and replied, "There will be so many of us, it won't know what shape to assume."
"Precisely," Lupin replied. "It's always best to have company when dealing with a boggart. He becomes confused. Which should he become? A headless corpse of a flesh eating slug? I once saw a boggart make that mistake—he tried to frighten two people at once and turned himself into a headless slug. Not remotely frightening.
"The charm that repels a boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a boggart is laughter. What you need to do is to force it to assume a shape you find amusing. We will practice the charm without wands first. After me, please…Riddikulus!"
"Riddikulus!" the class chanted together.
"Good," Lupin said. "Very good. But that was the easy part, I'm afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. And this is where you come in, Mr. Nott."
The wardrobe shook again.
"Right, Mr. Nott. What would you say frightens you the most?"
"The Grim," Theo replied in hardly a whisper.
Lupin bit back a chuckle. It wasn't uncommon to be afraid of it, as it was an omen of death, but it was slightly amusing. "The Grim, huh? Well…could you think of something that would make a Grim funny?" Theo shook his head. "No, well, can you picture a Chihuahua?"
Theo nodded.
"Well, when the boggart bursts out of the wardrobe, Mr. Nott, and sees you, it will assume the form of a Grim. You will raise your wand—thus—and cry 'Riddikulus'—and concentrate hard on that Chihuahua. If all goes well, it should turn into one."
A few people giggled, causing the wardrobe to shake more violently. Lupin had the rest of the class back away, and then he opened the wardrobe. Then, out came a large black dog, the size of a bear. Its fur was shaggy, its eyes were wild, its teeth were bared. You could practically see the hairs stand up on the back of Theo's neck as he froze in fright.
"R-R-Riddikulus!" he cried.
There was a noise like a whip crack and in a blink of an eye, the large black dog had transformed into a small, shaking Chihuahua that was wearing a pink tutu. Laughter rang through the room and Lupin motioned for the next person to step forward.