Malfoy had been sent to the school infirmary by Hagrid, and naturally, this Care of Magical Creatures class came to an abrupt end.
The Slytherin students were, of course, furious about Malfoy's injury. Pansy Parkinson even sobbed that Hagrid should pay a price for it. However, facing Harry and the others—who had given them more than one thrashing in the past—and now without their ringleader, Goyle and Pansy didn't dare storm through the castle shouting about expelling Hagrid or killing Buckbeak.
By dinnertime, Harry and his friends noticed a large group, including Crabbe and Goyle, huddled together, talking animatedly. Judging by the occasional snickers laced with malice, it seemed Malfoy, who hadn't yet shown his face, was probably fine. Hagrid, on the other hand, appeared to be in trouble.
Harry had originally planned to finish the Transfiguration homework Professor McGonagall had assigned, but his mind kept drifting to Hagrid. He sat with his quill poised over the parchment for a full ten minutes, unable to write a single word. When he finally looked up helplessly at Hermione, hoping for some support, he found her gazing back at him with the same troubled expression.
"How about we go check on Hagrid?" Harry suggested, realizing the homework wasn't getting done either way.
"Sure!" Hermione agreed, equally stalled on her own work.
"I'm in," said Ron, who hadn't even considered starting his homework and was just looking for something to do.
So, the trio packed up their things, climbed through the portrait hole, and made their way across the damp grass to Hagrid's cabin. They knocked on the door.
"Come in!" came Hagrid's voice from behind the wooden door, trembling with suppressed emotion.
Pushing it open, the three saw Hagrid sitting by his scrubbed-clean wooden table, wearing only a shirt. He was gulping from a tankard roughly the size of a bucket meant for ordinary people. Great streams of ale spilled from the corners of his mouth, trickling down his thick beard and soaking his chest. On his lap, Fang the boarhound rested its head, its big eyes flicking first to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, then back to its master with a look of pity.
With a loud "thunk," Hagrid set the tankard down and squinted blearily at the trio for a long moment before recognizing them.
"Reckon I've set a new record," he slurred mournfully. "A teacher sacked after just one day on the job. Wonder what Dumbledore'll think… he trusted me so much, even made me the Care o' Magical Creatures professor…"
"They haven't sacked you, have they?" Hermione asked, her eyes widening with worry.
"Not yet, but it's only a matter o' time," Hagrid mumbled, pouring another huge gulp down his throat. He let out a loud belch. "Malfoy still hasn't come outta the infirmary…"
"How's Malfoy doing? He must be hurt pretty bad… wait, no, maybe not that bad?" Ron scratched his cheek, conflicted. This was the first time something he'd secretly wished for had actually happened, but why did it feel so off?
"Madam Pomfrey's done all she could for him," Hagrid said slowly. "But he keeps goin' on about how his cheek and chest hurt somethin' awful. Even with the wounds bandaged up, and all the potions—internal and external—he's still moanin' about feelin' rotten."
"Sounds to me like he's asking for a good thrashing," Harry said, frowning. "Maybe we didn't teach him enough of a lesson before?"
"Harry, you can't go beating up Malfoy again, not now," Hermione sighed. "It'll only make him go after Hagrid even harder."
"The school governors've heard about it, o' course," Hagrid said mournfully. "They reckon I was reckless, that I shoulda waited a bit before bringin' out the Hippogriffs… shoulda started you lot off with Flobberworms or somethin'… I thought I could make the first lesson a good one… it's all my fault…"
"No, Hagrid, this is Malfoy's fault!" Hermione said earnestly, looking him straight in the eye. "Everyone saw it—you told us Hippogriffs are proud creatures, and if they feel insulted, they can get dangerous. Malfoy provoked Buckbeak himself. It's on him. We'll tell Dumbledore the truth!"
"Yeah, don't worry, Hagrid—we've got your back!" Ron nodded in agreement.
Harry didn't say anything, but the resolve in his green eyes spoke volumes.
Tears welled up in the crinkled corners of Hagrid's dark eyes. He grabbed Harry and Ron, pulling them into a bear hug. In his drunken state, Hagrid squeezed a bit too hard, leaving Harry and Ron feeling like a few ribs might've snapped.
"I think you've had enough to drink, Hagrid," Hermione said firmly. She snatched the tankard from his hand, grabbed the jug with the other, marched outside, and dumped the lot onto the ground.
"Ah, maybe she's right," Hagrid said, reeking of booze as he released Harry and Ron. The two stumbled back a couple of steps, rubbing their ribs to make sure nothing was actually broken.
Hagrid lumbered up from his chair and staggered outside. A few seconds later, Harry and Ron heard a loud splash.
"What'd he do?" Harry asked, turning to Hermione as she came back in.
"Stuck his head in the water barrel," she replied, setting the tankard aside. Noticing Harry's look, she nodded. "Yep, the bathtub-sized one."
A little over a minute later, Hagrid returned, his long hair and beard dripping wet, his shirt clinging soggily to his body. He wiped the water from around his eyes and shook his head like a dog, sending droplets flying onto the trio.
"Much better," he said, noticeably more lucid. "Listen, you lot comin' here to see me, carin' about me—I really appreciate it. But Harry, Ron, Hermione, the Malfoy family's a lot bigger than you reckon. You might have the upper hand in little school scuffles, but when it comes to serious stuff like this, takin' on a family that's been around for nearly a thousand years—you don't stand a chance. So don't…"
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