HARPER'S EUPHORIA AT FINALLY WINNING THE QUIDDITCH CUP AND KISSING CEDRIC 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.

But they couldn't. The exams were nearly upon them, and instead of lazing around outside, they 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. Harper had met up with Cedric in the library to study, and maybe some kisses along the way, and even Fred and George had been spotting working; they were about to take their O.W.L.s (Ordinary Wizarding Levels). Percy was getting ready to sit his N.E.W.T.s (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. In fact, the only person who seemed more anxious than Percy was Hermione.

Harper noticed 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. The first column read:

MONDAY
9 o'clock, Arithmancy
9 o'clock, Transfiguration
Lunch
1 o'clock, Charms
1 o'clock, Ancient Runes

"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?"

"What?" Hermione snapped, 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?" Harry said.

"No," Hermione replied shortly. "Has either of you seen my copy of Numerology and Grammatica?"

"Oh, yeah, I borrowed it for a bit of bedtime reading," Ron said, but very quietly.

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," Harry said, ripping the note open. "Buckbeak's appeal — it's set for the sixth."

"That's the day we finish our exams," Hermione said, still looking everywhere for her Arithmancy book.

"And they're coming up here to do it," Harry said, still reading from the letter. "Someone from the Ministry of Magic and — and an executor."

"They're bringing the executor to the appeal!" Ron exclaimed. "But that sounds as though they've already decided!"

"Yeah, it does," Harry said slowly.

"They can't!" Ron howled. "I've spent ages reading up stuff for him, they can't just ignore it all!"

But Harper had a horrible feeling that the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures had had its mind made up for it by Lucius Malfoy. 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 Harper overheard, Malfoy was certain Buckbeak was going to be killed, and seemed thoroughly pleased with himself for bringing it about.

Oh, how she wanted to hit him in the face.

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.

• ✧ •

EXAM WEEK BEGAN AND AN UNNATURAL HUSH FELL OVER THE CASTLE. They emerged from Transfiguration at lunchtime on Monday limp and ashen-faced, comparing results and bemoaning the difficulty of the tasks as 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, which was the least of everyone else's worries.

"Mine still has a spout for a tail, what a nightmare . . ."

"Were the tortoises supposed to breath steam?"

"It still has a willow-patterned shell, d'you think that'll count against me?"

Harper was feeling fairly content when the four of them made their way towards Charm exam. She had done well in Transfiguration and was confident that Charms would go well, too.

Hermione had been right; Professor Flitwick did indeed test them on Cheering Charms, which went pretty well.

After dinner, they hurried back to their common room, 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. 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. As Flobberworms flourished best if left to their own devices, it was the easiest exam any of them had ever sat, and also gave Harper, Harry, Ron and Hermione plenty of time to speak to Hagrid.

"Beaky's gettin' a bit depressed," Hagrid told them, bending low on the pretense of checking that Harry's Flobberworm was still alive. "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 hard but Harper was pretty sure it went well. Snape took one look at her potion before scribbling something onto his notes before moving away.

Then came Astronomy at midnight, up on the tallest tower; History of Magic on Wednesday morning. Wednesday afternoon meant Herbology, in the greenhouses under a baking hot sun, then back to the common room once more, with the back of their necks sunburnt, thinking longingly of this time next day, when it would be all over.

Their second from last exam, on Thursday morning, was Defence Against the Dark Arts. Remus 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.

"Excellent, munchkin," Remus muttered, as Harper climbed out of the trunk, grinning. "Full marks."

Flushed with her succes, Harper hung around to watch Harry, Ron and Hermione. Harry did as good as she did while Ron did very well until he reached the Hinkypunk, which successfully confused him into sinking waist high into the quagmire. Hermione did everything perfectly until she reached the trunk with the Boggart in it. After about a minute inside, she burst out again, screaming.

"Hermione!" Remus said, startled. "What's the matter?"

"P-P-Professor McGongall," Hermione gasped, pointing into the trunk. "Sh-she said I'd failed everything!"

It took a little while to calm Hermione down. When at last she had regained a grip on herself, she, Harry, Ron and Harper went back to the castle. Ron was still slightly inclined to laugh at Hermione's Boggart, 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, was standing there staring out at the grounds. He started at the sight of Harry.

"Hello there, Harry!" he said. "Just had an exam, I expect? Nearly finished?"

"Yes," Harry said. Hermione, Ron and Harper, not being on speaking terms with the Minister for Magic, hovered awkwardly in the background.

"Lovely day," Fudge said, casting an eye over the lake. "Pity . . . pity . . ."

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. As I needed to visit Hogwarts to check on the Black situation, I was asked to step in."

"Does that mean the appeal's already happened?" Ron interrupted, stepping forwards.

"No, no, it's scheduled for this afternoon," Fudge said, looking curiously at Ron.

"Then you might not have to witness an execution at all!" Ron said stoutly. "The Hippogriff might get off!"

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; the other was tall and strapping, with a think back moustache. Harper gathered that they were representatives of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, 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?"

The black-moustached man was fingering something in his belt; Harper looked and saw that he was running one broad thumb along the blade of a shining axe. Ron opened his mouth to say something, but both her and Hermione nudged him hard in the ribs and jerked their heads towards the Entrance Hall.

"Why'd you stop me?" Ron said angrily, as they entered the Great Hall for lunch. "Did you see them? They've even got the axe ready! This isn't justice!"

"Ron, your dad works for the Ministry. You can't go saying things like that to his boss!" Hermione said, but she, too, looked very upset. "As long as Hagrid keeps his head this time, and argues his case properly, they can't possibly execute Buckbeak . . ."

But Harper 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 she, Harry, Ron and Hermione, lost in worry about Hagrid and Buckbeak, didn't join in.

Harry, Ron and Harper's last exam was Divination; Hermione's Muggle Studies. They walked up the marble staircase together. Hermione left them on the first floor and the three of them 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 on a bit of last-minute revision.

"She's seeing us all separately," Neville informed have, as the trio went to sit down next to him. He had his copy of Unfogging the Future open on his lap at the pages devoted to crystal gazing. "Have you ever seen anything in a crystal ball?" he asked them unhappily.

"Nope," Ron replied, in an offhand voice. He kept checking his watch; Harper knew that he was counting down the time until Buckbeak's appeal started.

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.

"She says the crystal ball's told her that, if I tell you, I'll have a horrible accident!" Neville squeaked, as he clambered back down the ladder towards Harry, Ron and Harper, who had now reached the landing.

"That's convenient," Ron snorted. "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."

"Yeah," Harper said, looking at her own watch. It was now two o'clock. "Wish she'd hurry up . . ."

Parvati came back down the ladder glowing with pride.

"She says I've got all the makings of a true Seer," she informed them. "I saw loads of stuff . . . well, good luck!" She hurried off down the spiral staircase towards Lavender.

"Ronald Weasley," the familiar, misty voice from over their heads said. Ron grimaced at the Potter twins, and climbed the silver ladder out of sight. Harry and Harper were now the only persons left to be tested. They settled themselves in the floor with their back against the wall.

Finally, after about twenty minutes, Ron's large feet reappeared on the ladder.

"How'd it go?" Harry asked, standing up and pulling Harper with him.

"Rubbish," Ron said. "Couldn't see a thing, so I made some stuff up. Don't think she was convinced though . . ."

"Harper Potter!" Professor Trelawney's voice called and after receiving a good luck from Harry and Ron, she climbed the ladder.

The tower room was hotter than ever before; the curtains were closed, the fire was alight, and the usual sickly sent made her cough as Harper stumbled through the clutter of chairs and tables to where Professor Trelawney sat waiting for her 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 . . ."

Harper bent over the crystal ball and stared, stared as hard as she could, willing it to show her something other than swirling white fog, but nothing happened.

"Well?" Professor Trelawney prompted delicately. "What do you see?"

Since Harper knew she'd never see something in the ball, she took up Ron's advice and started to pretend.

"I see two people," she began, not really sure were this would lead her to.

"Can you see who they are?" Professor Trelawney whispered.

"A boy and a girl," Harper replied, hoping she'd believe her.

"And what are they doing?" Professor Trelawney asked, rather excited.

"Holding hands," Harper said. It was the first thing she could think of.

A smile formed on her lips. "Ah, dear, I've heard what happened after the match." Her eyes sparkled.

"I think that's me," Harper lied, leaning closer to the ball and narrowing her eyes. Please let her believe it. "Yes . . . the girl has red hair . . . and that's Cedric!" she added, trying to sound excited.

Professor Trelawney scribbled enthusiastically some words into her notes. "Very well, dear, you may go."

Harper sighed in relief and made her way back to the ladder.

"How did it go?" Harry asked.

"I didn't see anything, I just rambled on about me and Cedric," she said, shrugging. "She seemed to believe it, though."

Harry sighed as his name was called.

"Good luck," Harper told him. "And in doubt, you can always tell her you see Buckbeak in the ball, I'm sure she'll believe that."

"Thanks," Harry replied, "I'll see you on the common room?"

"Sure."

• ✧ •

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.

Harper looked at the note in shock and disbelief before handing it back to Hermione.

"I can't believe it." She sat down on one of the chairs, unable to stand any longer. "They're actually going to do it."

"Professor Trelawney," Harry panted, dashing through the common room over to them, "just told me —"

He stopped abruptly upon seeing the looks on their faces.

"Buckbeak lost," Ron said weakly. "Hagrid's just sent this."

"We've got to go," Harry said after reading the note. "He can't just sit there on his own, waiting for the executioner!"

"Sunset, though," Ron said, who was staring out of the windorw in a glazed sort of way. "We'd never be allowed . . . specially you, Harry . . ."

Harry sank his head into his hands. "If we only had the Invisibility Cloak . . ."

Harper raised her eyebrow. "Where is it?"

Harry told her and Hermione 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 true," Hermione said, getting to her feet. "If he sees you . . . how do you open the witch's hump again?"

"You — you tap it and say Dissensdium," Harry said. "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.

"She hasn't gone to get it?" Ron said, staring after her.

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!" Ron said, astounded. "First you hit Malfoy, then you walk out on Professor Trelawney—"

Hermione looked rather flattered.

• ✧ •

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. They sulked 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. Hermione poked her head around the corner.

"OK," she whispered, "no one there — Cloak on—"

Walking very close together so that nobody would see them, the four of them 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, gliding the top branches of the trees.

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.

"It's us!" Harper hissed, since she was in the front. "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. Hagrid shut the door quickly and Harry pulled of 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. This helplessness was worse to watch than tears.

"Wan' some tea?" he said. His great hands were shaking as he reached for the kettle.

"Where's Buckbeak, Hagrid?" Hermione said, hesitantly.

"I — I took him outside," Hagrid said, 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'll do it, Hagrid," Hermione said 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. Harper glanced at Harry and Ron, who looked back hopelessly.

"Isn't there anything anyone can do, Hagrid?" Harry asked fiercely, sitting down next to him. "Dumbledore—"

"He's tried," Hagrid said. "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 . . ."

Hagrid swallow. His eyes were darting all over the cabin, as though looking for some shred of hope or comfort.

"Dumbledore's gonna come down while it — while it happens. Write me this mornin'. Said he wants ter — ter be with me. Great man, Dumbledore . . ."

"We'll stay with you, too, Hagrid," Harper said, placing her hand on his arm in comfort, 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."

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.

"Ron! I — I don't believe it — it's Scabbers!"

Ron gaped at her. "What are you talking about?"

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!" Ron said 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 thufts of hair had fallen out leaving wild bald patches, and he writhed in Ron's hands as though desperate to free himself.

"It's OK, Scabbers!" Ron said. "No cats! There's nothing here to hurt you!"

Hagrid suddenly stood up, his eyes fixed on the window. His normally ruddy face had gone the color of parchment.

"They're comin' . . ."

Harper, 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 him came the feeble old Committee member and the executioner, Macnair.

"Yeh gotta go," Hagrid said. Every inch of him was trembling. "They musn' 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," Hagrid said.

They followed him to the door into his back garden. Harper felt strangely unreal, and even more so when she saw Buckbeak a few yards away, tethered to a tree behind Hagrid's pumpkin patch. Buckbeak seemed to know something was happpening. He turned his sharp head from side to side and pawed the ground nervously.

"It's OK, Beaky," Hagrid said softly. "It's OK . . ." He turned to the four of them. "Go on," he said. "Get goin'."

But they didn't move.

"Hagrid, we can't—"

"We'll tell them what really happened—"

They can't kill him—"

"We want to—"

"Go!" Hagrid said fiercely. "It's bad enough without you lot in trouble an' all!"

They had no choice. As Hermione threw the Cloak over Harry, Ron and Harper, 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.

Slowly, in a kind of horrified trance, the four of them set off silently around Hagrid's house. As they reached the other side, the front door closed with a sharp snap.

"Please, let's hurry," Hermione whispered. "I can't stand it, I can't bear it . . ."

"Neither can I," Harper whispered back.

They started up the sloping lawn towards the castle. The sun was sinking fast now; the sky and turned to a clear, purple-tinged grey, but to the west there was a ruby-red glow.

Ron stopped dead.

"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.

"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.

"OK — Scabbers, stay put —"

They walked forwards; Harper 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 —"

The rat was squealing wildly, but not loudly about to cover up the sounds drifting from Hagrid's garden. There was a jumble of indistinct male voices, a silence and then, without warning, the unmistakable swish and thud of an axe.

Hermione swayed on the spot.

"They did it!" she whispered. "I d-don't believe it — they did it!"

· · ───── · ☆ · ───── · ·

January 5th 2024
I hope you enjoy it & tell me what you think of it! :)