In the Gryffindor common room, Harry found himself unable to sleep. The trip to Hogsmeade, which had started on a high note, ended with a revelation that left him reeling. He had learned of the ultimate betrayal: his parents were sold out by none other than Sirius Black, his godfather. This title, both unfamiliar and deeply personal, sent Harry into a state of shock. Sirius Black, his father's best friend and most trusted ally, had turned against them, leading to the death of his parents.
The mix of emotions was overwhelming. Anger coursed through Harry at the thought of the man responsible for his parents' death. Resentment bubbled up for the trust his father placed in Sirius, only to be betrayed. Fear gripped him at the realization that Sirius had escaped Azkaban, removing the last barrier to Voldemort's return. And beneath it all was a profound sadness at the thought of his parents' trust being shattered by someone they held dear.
These emotions churned within Harry like a storm, each thought of Sirius Black fueling his hatred further. He envisioned Sirius laughing in the darkness, mocking him. The memory of how Sirius allegedly killed Peter Pettigrew, another of his father's friends, played in his mind alongside the haunting words claiming success in betraying the Potters. The final moments of his parents' lives, their resistance and pleas, haunted him, ending in the green flash that took them away.
Revenge became a singular focus, a concept that seemed both inevitable and justified in Harry's mind. He imagined himself, fueled by vengeance, confronting Sirius. Despite not possessing the same strength as his imagined ally, John, Harry felt a courageous heart within him, unafraid of death.
As dawn broke, Harry was unsure if he had slept at all. His appearance was haggard, his aura intimidating. Upon leaving his bedroom, he found Ron and Hermione, who were taken aback by his state.
"Harry, you look terrible," Hermione said, her concern evident. She knew the gravity of discovering one's enemy to be a godfather and the turmoil it must cause.
Harry, snapping back to the present, asked about the whereabouts of everyone else. Ron reminded him of the holiday's start, suggesting it was time for lunch.
As they prepared to leave, Hermione attempted to address the elephant in the room. She knew Harry well enough to recognize the look of vengeance in his eyes. She and Ron implored Harry not to do anything rash, like seeking out Sirius Black. The risk was too great, not just the danger of facing Black but the consequences of such actions, which could lead to imprisonment in Azkaban.
Harry understood the logic, but the thought of letting his parents' betrayer go unpunished was unbearable. His friends' concern was palpable, but the path forward seemed fraught with danger and uncertainty. Outside, the air was cold, and the atmosphere was heavy with a sense of foreboding. The heart of the conversation was being gnawed at by the harsh reality of their situation, much like being bitten by relentless insects with jagged mouths.
"You know what I see and hear every time a Dementor gets too close?" Harry's voice, tinged with anger and a deeper hoarseness than usual, broke the silence. "I hear my mother screaming, begging Voldemort for mercy. If you had heard your mother's scream before she was killed, you would never be able to forget it."
"There's nothing you can do!" Hermione interjected, her voice laced with panic.
"I know!" Harry retorted angrily. "But you want me to just stand by and do nothing!"
The conversation abruptly fell silent. Harry watched as Hermione opened her mouth to speak, her eyes darkening with emotion. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I... I just can't stop thinking about him."
"And what exactly do you plan to do when you find him?" Ron asked, his voice shaky and nervous. "You're not thinking of... killing Black, are you?"
Harry remained silent, prompting Hermione to quickly jump in. "Don't be ridiculous. Harry doesn't want to kill anyone, right, Harry?" She was desperate for Harry to see reason, but Harry's silence was unyielding.
In an attempt to lighten the mood, Ron suggested they visit Hagrid. "It's Christmas, after all. He'd probably appreciate some company." Hermione shot him a look that could only be described as incredulous, as if to say, "Are you out of your mind? It's too dangerous outside. What if Harry runs into Black?"
Despite the risks, Harry agreed to go without hesitation. Unable to dissuade him, Hermione and Ron resigned themselves to accompany him, both worried yet hopeful that the visit might lift Harry's spirits.
As they made their way, the snow began to fall more heavily, quickly blanketing the ground in a thick layer of white. Upon reaching Hagrid's hut, they found John lost in thought, staring at a letter from the Ministry of Magic.
"Why does it feel like Buckbeak's head is on the chopping block?" John mused aloud, recalling a scene from the movie that seemed to mirror their current predicament.
Hagrid, overhearing the comment, let out a howl of despair so loud it seemed to shake the very walls of the hut. John, envious of Hagrid's physical strength and booming voice, tried to offer some comfort, albeit awkwardly due to their size difference.
Their conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door. John, fearing for the safety of the visitors due to Hagrid's distraught state, hastily warned him to be gentle. Thankfully, Hagrid heeded the warning, though his greeting still left Harry, Hermione, and Ron momentarily stunned.
As they settled in, Hagrid, overwhelmed by emotion, began to cry uncontrollably. John, attempting to calm his own nerves, nearly caused a disaster with the teacup and table due to the hut's shaky structure.
Harry, puzzled by Hagrid's distress, was directed by John to read the letter on the table. "We accept Professor Dumbledore's assurance that you were not responsible for this regrettable incident," Harry read aloud, confused. "Isn't this good news?"
John urged him to continue reading. Upon learning of Buckbeak's impending trial by the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, Harry was baffled. "Why is this worth crying over? It's just a trial."
Hagrid, barely able to speak through his sobs, managed to say, "You don't understand. Those people from the Committee, they only deal with creatures they find amusing."
At that moment, the stark reality of the situation was underscored by the sight of Buckbeak noisily chewing on bloody food in the corner of the room, a grim contrast to Hagrid's words. John was at a loss for words, realizing that in Hagrid's eyes, any creature that didn't pose a direct threat to him was considered "fun."
The three friends shared a look of understanding. Hermione, moved by the scene, approached Hagrid to offer some comfort, her earlier frustration forgotten in the face of his genuine distress. Hagrid's distress over Buckbeak's situation deeply affected everyone present, including Harry. Despite their initial expectations for Harry to confront Hagrid about not disclosing the truth regarding Sirius Black, Ron and Hermione observed that Harry couldn't bring himself to do it. Hagrid had always been a father figure to Harry, making it impossible for Harry to express any resentment towards him. The atmosphere was heavy with Hagrid's despair, believing that any defense for Buckbeak would be futile, envisioning the grim fate of his beloved creature. The sadness and fear that enveloped the gentle giant were palpable.
John attempted to eat a rock cake, but its hardness and lack of flavor made him grimace in distaste. Seeking to shift the mood, he asked, "What did Dumbledore say, Hagrid?"
Hagrid, momentarily pausing his tears, replied, "He's already done so much for me. With everything on his plate—Dementors, Aurors, and Sirius Black—it's just..." His voice trailed off into a whimper, the sorrow resurfacing as he lamented, "My poor Buckbeak—"
"There might be other ways to handle this," John interjected, hoping to inject a note of optimism into the conversation. All eyes turned towards him, and just as he was about to offer a reassuring smile, a sudden realization hit him. John had a minor issue with his right hand, which under normal circumstances wouldn't have been a concern. However, the situation was made awkward by the fact that John, known for his alias Johnny Silver, relied on his right hand for writing. This personal challenge added an unexpected layer to the already complex situation, highlighting the vulnerabilities and imperfections that everyone, regardless of their strengths, must navigate.
_________
If you are tired of reading I also have this converted to an audio novel on my youtube
https://www.youtube.com/@NovelAudioForge/featured
Direct Link to playlist
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f_Hg-qsW4rM&list=PLKskshYG-OcPTR4-Nw7IWFEBZm07D8pBV&ab_channel=NovelAudioForge