Joanne Murray - Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

‘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!’

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?

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; 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, ‘just told me -’

But he stopped abruptly at the sight of their faces.

‘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.

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

‘We’ve got to go,’ said Harry at once. ‘He can’t just sit there on his own, waiting for the executioner!’

‘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 ...’

‘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 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.

‘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!’ said Ron, 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 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. Hermione poked her head around the door.

‘OK,’ she whispered, ‘no one there - Cloak on -’

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.

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,’ 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. 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. 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?’ said Hermione hesitantly.

‘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’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.

‘Isn’t there anything anyone can do, Hagrid?’ Harry asked fiercely, sitting down next to him. ‘Dumbledore -’

‘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 ... ’

Hagrid swallowed. 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. Wrote me this mornin’. Said he wants ter - ter be with me. Great man, Dumbledore ... ’

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.’

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!’ 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.

‘It’s OK, Scabbers!’ said Ron. ‘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 colour of parchment.

‘They’re comin’ ... ’

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.

‘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.

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.