The ground beneath their feet crunches with each step taken through the dark and gloomy forest. The snapping of twigs and leaves and things in addition to the foggy spring night alludes to a spooky, spine-chilling atmosphere.
The atmospheric conditions appear to be overlooked by the group of young teens and their Giant accomplice. Or rather, perhaps it doesn't necessarily go unnoticed, but instead overlooked. This of course seems fitting enough when you pull it apart. Surely once Balilisks have been conquered and Dementors have been mere inches from your face, a trek through a dark forest seems like child's play.
Rubeus Hagrid watches the other four warmly and can't help but to reminisce about the first time he had led them through this very forest. Surely the crunching of leaves in accordance with fear of the unknown would've set those kids on edge a lot more than it does today.
"I remember when I first met you all," Hagrid speaks up. "Biggest bunch of misfits I ever set eyes on."
While the rest of the castle had been brushing their teeth and slipping into their pajamas, settling down and tucking themselves in for the night, Harry, Hermione, y/n, and Ron were doing quite the opposite.
The group needed a distraction from the stressful ed's of their day to day lives, I mean don't they always? So naturally they proceeded to Hagrid's, one of the best distractions around.
"Suppose you remind me of me-self a little," Hagrid continues. "And here we all are, four years later."
Ron laughs at this. "We're still a bunch of misfits," he says.
Hagrid ponders this. "Well, maybe, but. . . we've all got each other. And, Harry, of course."
Harry turns his head at the mention of his name, unaware that he had mentally signed off from the conversation until the calling of his name had drawn him back in.
"Soon to be the youngest Triwizard Champion theres ever been!" Hagrid shouts victoriously, his booming voice echoing through the woods. "Hooray!"
Harry doesn't react, instead walking onwards. He doesn't mean to be rude, he's just got some strange feeling, somethings off for sure. Like he's being. . . drawn to something.
"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, hoggy warty Hogwarts. . ."
The tune that the others sing jauntily sounds echoed through Harry's ears, as the feeling that somethings wrong, the feeling that prevents him from joining in the makeshift singalong, grows the further he walks deeper into the forest.
