[*]
The
Gryffindor House table in the Great Hall greeted him warmly when he came down
to breakfast. Fred and George Weasley,
Ron’s older twin brothers, each gave him a heart pat on the back, while Seamus
Finnigan and Dean Thomas, two of Harry’s dorm mates, told him how good he
looked. They had all apparently seen him
being carried to the hospital wing by Professor Lupin, and been worried.
Oliver
Wood, the Quidditch team captain, wasted little time with pleasantries. “So you’re feeling alright?”
“Yes,
Oliver,” said Harry.
“Good,
because I mean to win the Quidditch Cup for Gryffindor this year, and I need
you on as our seeker. We’ll be holding
practice soon, so don’t go messing about with Dementors again, alright?” With that, Oliver went back to his bench. In his first year, Harry had been recruited
to play seeker for the Gryffindor House Quidditch team. Though Harry was seen as one of the greatest
seekers Gryffindor has had in years, the House had yet to win a Quidditch
Cup. Oliver, never one for either
half-measures or perspective, had become increasingly obsessed with winning.
“That
Oliver,” said Katie Bell, a Gryffindor fourth year and a chaser in the Quidditch
team, “he certainly has his priorities straight. Never mind that you nearly died, so long as
you can play Quidditch.”
“Well,
it is important,” said Harry fairly.
Katie merely gave him an old, slightly disgusted look, then she too
walked away.
It
wasn’t all well-wishing and congratulations on his recovery that morning,
however. The Slytherin House table,
across the Hall from the Gryffindor table, had started laughing at Harry as
soon as he’d turned up. One of them, a
blonde boy with a pointed chin, shouted at him from within a gathering of
friends, “Hey, Potter. Is it true you
fainted when you saw a Dementor?” The
blonde boy pantomimed fainting, though the effect was hindered as one of his
arms was in a sling. Still his friends
laughed with the blonde boy.
“Little
git,” growled Fred. “You should have
seen him during the train ride. He came
running into our compartment when the Dementors were coming through. Looked like he was going to wet himself.”
“That’s
just Malfoy,” said Harry, though inside he burned with the need to push
back. Draco Malfoy had been a pain in
his arse since their first year, starting and spreading rumors about him,
mocking him at every turn, and insulting his friends. His father, Lucius Malfoy, had been the one
who had slipped Tom Riddle’s diary into Ginny Weasley’s possession, causing the
whole basilisk situation last year. The
Malfoys were supporters of Voldemort, and Draco was a Dark Wizard in training,
as were many Slytherins.
Harry
sat next to Ron and Hermione, who were both glad to see him up and about. When Hermione asked him about his homework,
he ignored her. Instead, he was caught
up with Ron’s accounts of yesterday’s classes.
Harry so thoroughly enjoyed Ron lampooning Professor Trelawney the
Diviniation teacher, that he forgot about the fact that he had no idea what he
should be doing.
“She’s
a terrible fraud,” muttered Hermione darkly.
“I’m sorry that I decided to take Divination.”
“How
are you taking all those classes?” Ron asked Hermione. He then turned to Harry. “You should have seen Hermione’s
timetable. She has ten classes, some of
them at the same time.”
“I told
you, Ron, I’ve worked it out with Professor McGonnagal,” said Hermione breezily
but with finality. “In any case, we have
to talk about Hagrid.”
“What
about Hagrid?” asked Harry.
“It’s
brilliant,” said Ron. “Hagrid’s the new
Care of Magical Creatures Professor.”
Harry
felt instantly elated. Hagrid had been
the one who had introduced him to the wizarding world, forcing Uncle Vernon to
let Harry go to Hogwarts after finding them in a lonely cabin that the Durlseys
had run away to, and giving Dudley a pig’s tail. He was one of the warmest, most generous
people that Harry had ever met. He knew
just how much Hagrid loved being the gamekeeper at Hogwarts, and could not
imagine how much more he would love being a Professor at the school that had
been his home for decades. Harry beamed
with inner pride at Hagrid’s accomplishment.
But his joy dampened slightly upon seeing Hermione’s dour expression.
“So
what happened?” Harry asked cautiously.
“We
were studying hippogriffs—and it was actually a very interesting lesson,
really,” said Hermione. “But, well,
hippogriffs are a bit tempermental and . . . Malfoy . . . .”
“It was
all Malfoy’s fault,” said Ron darkly, glaring at the Slyerthin table’s
direction. “He should have listened to
Hagrid and just bowed properly at the hippogriff. Then he wouldn’t have been attacked, would
he? Besides, he’s faking most of it.”
“I
wonder why I didn’t see him in the hospital wing,” said Harry.
“Oh,
Madame Pomfrey came down and patched him up right there. She said he’d need to keep the sling on for a
bit, but that he’s otherwise fine,” said Ron airily.
“Hagrid
seemed terribly upset by it all,” said Hermione. “We went to see him before we came to see you
last night. He’s worried that he might
get sacked.”
“Dumbledore’d
never sack Hagrid,” said Ron. “Hagrid’s
done loads of stupid things before, and he’s never been sacked. Remember Norbert the illegal dragon? Fluffy?
Aragog?”
“He
might not have a choice,” said Hermione.
“Draco will complain to his father, and his father will put pressure on
the school’s governors.”
“It
won’t come to that,” said Ron, though with less confidence than before.
The
Gryffindor House table in the Great Hall greeted him warmly when he came down
to breakfast. Fred and George Weasley,
Ron’s older twin brothers, each gave him a heart pat on the back, while Seamus
Finnigan and Dean Thomas, two of Harry’s dorm mates, told him how good he
looked. They had all apparently seen him
being carried to the hospital wing by Professor Lupin, and been worried.
Oliver
Wood, the Quidditch team captain, wasted little time with pleasantries. “So you’re feeling alright?”
“Yes,
Oliver,” said Harry.
“Good,
because I mean to win the Quidditch Cup for Gryffindor this year, and I need
you on as our seeker. We’ll be holding
practice soon, so don’t go messing about with Dementors again, alright?” With that, Oliver went back to his bench. In his first year, Harry had been recruited
to play seeker for the Gryffindor House Quidditch team. Though Harry was seen as one of the greatest
seekers Gryffindor has had in years, the House had yet to win a Quidditch
Cup. Oliver, never one for either
half-measures or perspective, had become increasingly obsessed with winning.
“That
Oliver,” said Katie Bell, a Gryffindor fourth year and a chaser in the Quidditch
team, “he certainly has his priorities straight. Never mind that you nearly died, so long as
you can play Quidditch.”
“Well,
it is important,” said Harry fairly.
Katie merely gave him an old, slightly disgusted look, then she too
walked away.
It
wasn’t all well-wishing and congratulations on his recovery that morning,
however. The Slytherin House table,
across the Hall from the Gryffindor table, had started laughing at Harry as
soon as he’d turned up. One of them, a
blonde boy with a pointed chin, shouted at him from within a gathering of
friends, “Hey, Potter. Is it true you
fainted when you saw a Dementor?” The
blonde boy pantomimed fainting, though the effect was hindered as one of his
arms was in a sling. Still his friends
laughed with the blonde boy.
“Little
git,” growled Fred. “You should have
seen him during the train ride. He came
running into our compartment when the Dementors were coming through. Looked like he was going to wet himself.”
“That’s
just Malfoy,” said Harry, though inside he burned with the need to push
back. Draco Malfoy had been a pain in
his arse since their first year, starting and spreading rumors about him,
mocking him at every turn, and insulting his friends. His father, Lucius Malfoy, had been the one
who had slipped Tom Riddle’s diary into Ginny Weasley’s possession, causing the
whole basilisk situation last year. The
Malfoys were supporters of Voldemort, and Draco was a Dark Wizard in training,
as were many Slytherins.
Harry
sat next to Ron and Hermione, who were both glad to see him up and about. When Hermione asked him about his homework,
he ignored her. Instead, he was caught
up with Ron’s accounts of yesterday’s classes.
Harry so thoroughly enjoyed Ron lampooning Professor Trelawney the
Diviniation teacher, that he forgot about the fact that he had no idea what he
should be doing.
“She’s
a terrible fraud,” muttered Hermione darkly.
“I’m sorry that I decided to take Divination.”
“How
are you taking all those classes?” Ron asked Hermione. He then turned to Harry. “You should have seen Hermione’s
timetable. She has ten classes, some of
them at the same time.”
“I told
you, Ron, I’ve worked it out with Professor McGonnagal,” said Hermione breezily
but with finality. “In any case, we have
to talk about Hagrid.”
“What
about Hagrid?” asked Harry.
“It’s
brilliant,” said Ron. “Hagrid’s the new
Care of Magical Creatures Professor.”
Harry
felt instantly elated. Hagrid had been
the one who had introduced him to the wizarding world, forcing Uncle Vernon to
let Harry go to Hogwarts after finding them in a lonely cabin that the Durlseys
had run away to, and giving Dudley a pig’s tail. He was one of the warmest, most generous
people that Harry had ever met. He knew
just how much Hagrid loved being the gamekeeper at Hogwarts, and could not
imagine how much more he would love being a Professor at the school that had
been his home for decades. Harry beamed
with inner pride at Hagrid’s accomplishment.
But his joy dampened slightly upon seeing Hermione’s dour expression.
“So
what happened?” Harry asked cautiously.
“We
were studying hippogriffs—and it was actually a very interesting lesson,
really,” said Hermione. “But, well,
hippogriffs are a bit tempermental and . . . Malfoy . . . .”
“It was
all Malfoy’s fault,” said Ron darkly, glaring at the Slyerthin table’s
direction. “He should have listened to
Hagrid and just bowed properly at the hippogriff. Then he wouldn’t have been attacked, would
he? Besides, he’s faking most of it.”
“I
wonder why I didn’t see him in the hospital wing,” said Harry.
“Oh,
Madame Pomfrey came down and patched him up right there. She said he’d need to keep the sling on for a
bit, but that he’s otherwise fine,” said Ron airily.
“Hagrid
seemed terribly upset by it all,” said Hermione. “We went to see him before we came to see you
last night. He’s worried that he might
get sacked.”
“Dumbledore’d
never sack Hagrid,” said Ron. “Hagrid’s
done loads of stupid things before, and he’s never been sacked. Remember Norbert the illegal dragon? Fluffy?
Aragog?”
“He
might not have a choice,” said Hermione.
“Draco will complain to his father, and his father will put pressure on
the school’s governors.”
“It
won’t come to that,” said Ron, though with less confidence than before.
