HARPER CAUGHT HARRY INTO A CORRIDOR AND DRAGGED HIM with her into an empty classroom.

"Wha—?"

"Shh!" she sushed him, checking if no one was around, before looking at him. "There is something I have to tell you, Harry, something I should've done months ago."

Harry frowned upon seeing her nervousness. "Is it Black?" His expression darkened. "I can't believe he did what he did," he added sharply and Harper got the feeling that he wanted to punch the man right in the face.

"Well — yes, it's about him . . ." she trailed off before sighing. "I wrote to him, Harry."

For a moment he didn't reply, then, "Why?"

"Well," Harper shuffled into her feet and played with the edge of her scarf, "I wanted to know why he'd murdered Peter."

"So you wanted to know why he'd killed Peter but not why he'd killed our parents?" Harry replied, narrowing his eyes.

"I didn't know!" Harper exclaimed. "And I didn't know he was your godfather either!"

"Why didn't you tell me you were writing him in the first place?" Harry quietly asked.

"Because I didn't know whether he was telling me the truth. Besides, I haven't written him in months."

"You should have told me," Harry replied.

"I should have, I'm sorry," Harper said, casting her eyes down.

Harry sighed and sat down on a table. "I can't believe it, Harp, he was their friend!"

"I know, Harry, I know," Harper said, sitting down next to him. "I don't know what to believe anymore."

"The Ministry can't be wrong, can they? Black has done it, you heard what he said."

"I just have this feeling that there's more to the story," Harper murmured.

• ✧ •

     HERMIONE WAS ALREADY IN OUR DORM WHEN HARPER ENTERED. She looked up from her book and upon seeing the redhead, she put it down on her bedside table.

"Are you all right?"

Since there was no point of keeping it a secret anymore, Harper told her what she had told Harry. Her reaction, however, was different.

"Can I see the letters?"

Harper nodded, took the letter and gave them to her. Her brown eyes flew over them, scanning every page and she frowned.

"He seems kind," she said suspiciously. "It's good you didn't give him too much information."

"I was careful of that," Harper replied. "I never really trusted him."

"Does Harry know?" Hermione asked, looking up from the letters.

"I just told him," Harper admitted, falling down onto her bed. "I should have told him sooner."

Hermione, as kind as she was, did not question it any further. Instead, she gave back the letters and laid down next to Harper.

"It's a complex world, isn't it?"

Harper sighed. "It is."

• ✧ •

     "HARRY, YOU—YOU LOOK TERRIBLE," Ron said, once Harry descended the stairs from the boys dormitory the next morning.

"Gee, Ron, that's no way to cheer your friend up," Harper replied dryly.

"Where's everyone?" Harry asked, looking around the common room, which was empty besides Harper, Ron and Hermione.

"Gone! It's the first day of the holidays, remember?" Ron said, watching Harry closely. "It's nearly lunchtime, I was going to come and wake you up in a minute."

Harry slumped onto the couch next to his sister and Harper glanced sideways at him, frowning worried, but deciding to keep quiet.

"You really don't look well, you know," Hermione said, peering anxiously into his face.

"I'm fine."

"Harry, listen," Hermione began, exchanging a look with Ron, "you must be really upset about what we heard yesterday. But the thing is, you mustn't go doing anything stupid."

"Like what?" Harry asked, his eyes snapping up at her.

"Like trying to go after Black," Ron said sharply.

When Harry didn't reply, a feeling came over Harper. This was what she had been afraid of and why she didn't tell him in the first place. Harry had the tendency to be impulsive.

"You won't, will you, Harry?" Hermione said.

"Because Black's not worth dying for," Ron added.

Harper saw Harry's expression change and gestured at Hermione and Ron to stop talking.

"D'you know what I see and hear every time a Dementor gets too near me?" Ron and Hermione shook their heads, looking apprehensive while Harper just fixed her eyes on her brother. "I can hear my mum screaming and pleading with Voldemort. And if you'd heard your mum screaming like that, just about to be killed, you wouldn't forget it in a hurry. And if you found out someone who was supposed to be a friend of hers betrayed her and sent Voldemort after her . . ."

He stopped when he saw a tear running down Harper's face. He'd never told her the details. "Is—do you really hear that? Mum screaming? Pleading? I only hear Dad."

His eyes softened and he pulled her into his arms.

"There's nothing you can do," Hermione said, looking stricken. "Dementors will catch Black and he'll go back to Azkaban and — and serve him right!"

"You heard what Fudge said. Black isn't affected by Azkaban like normal people are. It's not a punishment for him like it is for the others."

"So what are you saying? Ron asked, looking very tense. "You want to—to kill Black or something?"

"Don't be silly," Hermione said in a panicky voice. "Harry doesn't want to kill anyone, do you, Harry?"

Harper tightened her grip on Harry. "I'm sure he wouldn't."

"Malfoy knows," he said abruptly. "Remember what he said to me in Potions? 'If it was me, I'd hunt him down myself — I'd want revenge.'"

"You're going to take Malfoy's advice over ours?" Ron said furiously. "Listen . . . you know what Pettigrew's mother got back after Black had finished with him? Dad told me — their Order of Merlin, First Class, and Pettigrew's finger in a box. That was the biggest bit they could find of him. Black's a madman, Harry, and he's dangerous —"

"Malfoy's dad must have told him," Harry said, ignoring Ron and making Harper frown in worry. "He was right in Voldemort's inner circle—"

"Say You-Know-Who, will you?" Ron interjected angrily.

"— so obviously, the Malfoys knew Black was working for Voldemort—"

"— and Malfoy'd love to see you blown into about a million pieces, like Pettigrew! Get a grip, Malfoy's just hoping you'll get yourself killed before he has to play you at Quidditch."

"Harry, please," Hermione said, her eyes now shining with tears, "please be sensible. Black did a terrible, terrible thing, but d-don't put yourself in danger, it's what Black wants . . . oh, Harry, you'd be playing right into Black's hands if you went looking for him. Your mum and dad wouldn't want you to get hurt, would they? They'd never want you to go looking for Black!"

"I'll never know what they'd have wanted because, thanks to Black, I've never spoke to them," Harry said shortly, making Harper wince.

There was a silence, in which Crookshanks stretched luxuriously, flexing his claws. Ron's pocket quivered.

"Look," Ron began, obviously casting around for a change of subject, "it's the holidays. It's nearly Christmas! Let's — let's go down and see Hagrid. We haven't visited him for ages!"

"No," Hermione said quickly. "Harry and Harper aren't supposed to leave the castle, Ron—"

"Yeah, let's go," Harry said, sitting up, pulling Harper with him, "and I can ask him how come he never mentioned Black when he told me all about my parents."

Further discussions of Sirius Black plainly wasn't what Ron had had in mind.

"Or we could have a game of chess," he said hastily, "or Gobstones. Percy left a set—"

"No, let's visit Hagrid's," Harry replied firmly and Harper exchanged a worried glance with Hermione and Ron.

They got their cloaks from their dormitories and set off through the portrait hole ("Stand and fight, you yellow-belled mongrels!"), down through the empty castle and out through the oak front doors. They made their way slowly down the lawn, making a shallow trench in the glittering, powdery snow, their socks and the hems of their cloaks soaked and freezing. The Forbidden Forest looked as though it had been enchanted, each tree shattered with silver, and Hagrid's cabin looked like an iced cake.

Ron knocked, but there was no answer.

"He's not out, is he?" Hermione asked, who was shivering under her cloak.

Ron had his ear to the door. "There's a weird nose," he said. "Listen — is that Fang?"

The three of them put their ears to the door, too. From inside the cabin came a series of low, throbbing moans.

"I don't think that's Fang," Harper said, straightening her back, while glancing worriedly at the door.

"Think we'd better go and get someone?" Ron asked nervously, but Harper ignored him as she took as step forward and thumped the door.

"Hagrid! Hagrid, are you in there?"

There was a sound of heavy footsteps, then the door freaked open. Hagrid stood there with his eyes red and swollen, tears splashing down the front of his leather waistcoat.

"Yeh've heard!" he bellowed, and he flung himself onto Harper's neck.

Hagrid being at least twice the size of a normal man, this was no laughing matter.

Harper, about to collapse under Hagrid's weight, was rescued by Harry, Ron and Hermione, who all seized Hagrid under an arm and heaved him.

Hagrid allowed himself to be steered into a chair and slumped over the table, sobbing uncontrollably, his face glazed with tears which dropped down into his tangled beard.

"Hagrid, what is it?" Hermione asked, aghast.

It was Harry who spotted the official-looking letter open lying on the table.

"What's this, Hagrid?"

Hagrid's sobs redoubled, but he shoved the letter towards Harry, who read it aloud.

"Dear Mr Hagrid,
Further to our inquiry into the attack by a Hippogriff on a student in your class, we have accepted the assurances of Professor Dumbledore that you bear no responsibility for the regrettable incident."

"Well, that's okay, Hagrid!" Ron said, clapping Hagrid on the shoulder. But Hagrid continued to sob, and waved one of his gigantic hands, inviting Harry to read on.

"However, we must register our concern about the Hippogriff in question. We have decided to uphold the official complaint of Mr Lucius Malfoy, and this matter wil therefore be taken to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. The hearing will take place on April twentieth, and we ask you to present yourself and your Hippogriff at the Comittee's offices in London on that date. In the meantime, the Hippogriff should be kept tethered and isolated.
Yours in fellowship . . ."

Harry summed up the list of the school governors.

"Oh," Ron began, "but you said Buckbeak isn't a bad Hippogriff, Hagrid. I bet he'll get off—"

"Yeh don' know them gargoyles at the Committee fer the Disposal o' Dangerous Creatures!" Hagrid chocked, wiping his eyes on the sleeve. "They've got it in fer interestin' creatures!"

A sudden sound from the corner of Hagrid's cabin made the four of them whip around. Buckbeak the Hippogriff was lying in the corner, chomping on something that was oozing blood all over the floor.

"I couldn' leave him tied up out there in the snow!" Hagrid chocked. "All on his own! On Christmas!"

Harper, Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other. They had never seen eye to eye with Hagrid about what he called 'interesting creatures' and other people called 'terrifying monsters.' On the other hand, there didn't seem to be any particular harm in Buckbeak. In fact, by Hagrid's usual standards, he was positively cute.

"You'll have to put up a good strong defence," Hermione said, sitting down and laying a hand on Hagrid's massive forearm. "I'm sure you can prove Buckbeak is safe."

Harper nodded in agreement. "Yeah, we'll help you, Hagrid."

"Won' make no diff'rence!" Hagrid sobbed. "Them Disposal devils, they're all in Lucius Malfoy's pocket! Scared o' him? An' if I lose the case, Buckbeak—"

Hagrid drew his finger swiftly across his throat, then gave a great wail and lurched forwards, his face in his arms.

"What about Dumbledore, Hagrid?" Harry asked.

"He's done more'n enough der me already," Hagrid groaned. "Got enough on his plate what with keepin' them Dementors outta the castle, an' Sirius Black lurkin' around—"

Ron, Hermione and Harper looked quickly at Harry, expecting him to start berating Hagrid for not telling him the truth about Black. But upon seeing her brother's face, Harper knew he couldn't bring himself to do it, not now Hagrid was so miserable and scared.

"Listen, Hagrid," he began, "you can't give him up. Hermione's right, you just need a good defence. You can call us as witnesses—"

"I'm sure I've read about a case of a Hippogriff-baiting," Hermione said thoughtfully, "where the Hippogriff got off. I'll look it up for you, Hagrid, and see exactly what happened."

"I'll help you," Harper added.

Hagrid howled still more loudly. Harry, Hermione and Harper looked at Ron to help him.

"Er—shall I make a cup of tea?" Ron asked.

Harper nodded while Harry just stared at him.

"It's what my mum does whenever someone's upset," Ron muttered, shrugging.

At last, after many more assurances of help, with a steaming mug of tea in front of him, Hagrid blew his nose on a handkerchief the size of a tablecloth and said, "Yer right. I can' afford to go ter pieces. Gotta pull myself together . . ."

Fang the boarhound came timidly from under the table and laid his head on Hagrid's knee.

"I've not bin meself lately," Hagrid said, stroking Fang with one hand and mopping his face with the other. "Worried abou' Buckbeak, an' no one likin' me classes —"

"We do like them!" Harper lied at once. 

"Yeah, they're great!" Ron added, crossing his fingers under the table. "Er—how are the Flobberworms?"

"Dead," Hagrid said gloomily. "Too much lettuce."

"Oh, no!" Ron exclaimed, his lips twitching.

"An' them Dementors make me feel rubby terrible an' all," Hagrid said, with a sudden shudder. "Gotta walk past 'em ev'ry time I want a drink in the Three Broomsticks. 'S like bein' back in Azkaban—"

He fell silent, gulping his tea. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Harper watched him breathlessly. They had never heard Hagrid talk about his brief time in Azkaban before. After a brief pause, Hermione said timidly, "Is it awful there, Hagrid?"

"Yeh've no idea," Hagrid said quietly. "Never bin anywhere like it. Thought I was goin' mad. Kep' goin' over horrible stuff in me mind . . . the day I got expelled from Hogwarts . . . day me dad died . . . day I had ter let Norbert go . . ."

His eyes filled with tears.

"Yeh can' really remember who yeh are after a while. An' yeh can' see the point o' livin' at all. I used ter hope I'd jus' die in me sleep . . . when they let me out, it was like bein' born again, ev'rythin' came flooding' back, it was the bes' feelin' in the world. Mind, the Dementors weren' keen on lettin' me go."

"But you were innocent!" Hermione said.

Hagrid snorted. "Think that matters to them? They don' care. Long as they've got a couple o' hundred humans stuck there with 'em, so they can leech all the happiness out of 'em, they don' give a damn who's guilty an' who's not."

Hagrid went quiet for a moment, staring into his tea. Then he said quietly, "Thought o' jus' lettin' Buckbeak go . . . tryin' ter make him fly away . . . but how d'yeh explain ter a Hippogriff it's gotta go inter hidin'? An' — an' I'm scared o' breakin' the law . . ." He looked up at them, tears leaking down his face again. "I don' ever want ter go back ter Azkaban."

• ✧ •

     HARPER, HARRY, RON AND HERMIONE WENT TO THE LIBRARY THE NEXT DAY and returned to the empty common room laden with books which might help prepare a defence for Buckbeak. The four of them sat in front of the roaring fire, slowly turning the pages of dusty volumes about famous cases of marauding beasts, speaking occasionally when they ran across something relevant.

"Here's something . . . there was a case in 1722 . . . but the Hippogriff was convicted — urgh, look what they did to it, that's disgusting—"

"This might help, look — a Manticore savaged someone in 1296 and they let the Manticore off — oh — no, that was only because everyone was too scared to go near it . . ."

Meanwhile, in the rest of the castle, the usual magnificent Christmas decorations had been put up, despite the fact that hardly any of the students remained to enjoy them. Thick streamers of holly and mistletoe were strung along the corridors, mysterious lights shone from inside every suit of armour and the Great Hall was filled with its usual twelve Christmas trees, glittering with golden stars. A powerful and delicious smell of cooking pervaded the corridors, and by Christmas Eve, it had grown so strong that even Scabbers poked his nose out of the shelter of Ron's pocket to sniff hopefully at the air.

Despite everything, Harper smiled. She loved Christmas.

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December 29th 2023
I hope you enjoy it & tell me what you think of it! :)