Dark

Chapter 60

Harry
“Have you seen Ron?” Hermione asked in a low voice.
Angelina and the twins had finally left for their dorms after she had finished telling us all off. Our permanent ban had put a huge dent into her plans for the Quidditch season.
I shook my head no, unsure of where he had been since the end of the match.
“I think he’s avoiding us,” Hermione said. “Where do you think he –“
At that precise moment, there was a creasing sound behind us and we turned to find Ron slipping through the portrait hole. He was very pale, and there was snow in his hair. When he noticed us he stopped dead in his tracks.
“Where have you been?” Hermione asked anxiously, springin up from her seat.
“Walking,” Ron mumbled.
“You look frozen!” Hermione said. “Come sit down!”
Ron walked to the fireside and sank into the chair farthest from my own, not looking at either myself or Hermione.
“I’m sorry,” Ron mumbled, staring intently at his feet.
“What for?” I asked.
“For thinking I can play Quidditch,” Ron said. “I’m going to resign first thing tomorrow.”
“If you resign,” I said, my anger rising after everything that happened throughout the day, “there’ll only be three players left on the team.” When Ron looked up at me with a puzzled expression I continued on. “I’ve been given a lifetime ban. So’ve Fred and George.”
“What?” Ron yelped.
Hermione thankfully took over and explained what all had happened both on and off the pitch following the match.
“This is all my fault –“
“You didn’t make us go after Malfoy,” I said angrily.
“-if I wasn’t so lously at Quidditch –“
“-it’s got nothing to do with that –“
“-it was that song that sound me up –“
“-it would’ve would anyone up –“
“-but I just –“
“Look, drop it, will you!” I burst out. “It’s bad enough without you blaming yourself for everything!”
Ron said nothinga t this, but sat gazing miserably at the damp hem of his robes. After a while he said in a dull voice, “This is the worst I’ve ever felt in my life.”
“Join the club,” I said bitterly.
“Well,” Hermione said, making me notice for the first time that she had moved toward the window. “I can think of one thing that might cheer you both up.”
“Oh yeah?” I asked skeptically.
“Yeah,” Hermione said with a smile spreading across her face. “Hagrid’s back.”

With the invisibility cloack wrapped tightly around us we hurried down to Hagrid’s hut.
“Hagrid, it’s us!” I called through the door as I knocked loudly.
“Shoulda known!” Hagrid’s gruff voice called out. “Bin home three seconds..Out the way, Fang…Out the way, yeh dozy dog…”
The bolt was drawn and the door creaked open to reveal a surprising sight.
Hagrid’s hair was matted with congealed blood, and his left eye had been reduced to a puffy slit amid a mass of purple-and-black bruises. There were many cuts on his face and hands, some of them still bleeding, and he was moving gingerly as he backed out of the doorway to let us in, leaving me to suspect that there were further injuries.
“What happened to you?” I demanded, while Fang jumped around the three of us trying to lick our faces.
“it’s nuthin’, nuthin’!” Hagrid insisted.
“Come off it,” Ron said. “You’re in a right state!”
“I’m tellin’ yeh, I’m fine,” Hagrid said. “Blimey, it’s good ter see you three again – had good summers, did yeh?”
“Hagrid, you’ve been attacked!” Hermione said. “Don’t change the subject.”
“Fer the las’ time, it’s nuthin’!” Hagrid said firmly before rounding his large wooden table. He twitched aside a tea towel to reveal a massive raw and bloody green-tinged steak.
“You’re not going to eat that, are you, Hagrid?” Ron asked, leaning in slightly for a closer look. “It looks poisonous.”
“It’s s’posed ter look like that, it’s dragon meat,” Hagrid said. “An’ I didn’ get it ter eat.”
He picked the steak up and slapped it over the left side of his face. Greenish blood trickled down into his beard as he gave a soft moan of satisfaction.
“So are you going to tell us what’s happened to you?” I pressed.
“Can’, Harry. Top secret. More’n me job’s worth ter tell yeh that.”
“Did the giants beat you up, Hagrid?” asked Hermione quietly.
Hagrid’s fingers slipped on the dragon steak, and it slip squelchily onto his chest.
“Giants?” Hagrid said, catching the steak before it reached his belt and slapping it back over his face. “Who said anythin’ abou’ giants? Who yeh bin talkin’ to? Who’s told yeh what I’ve – who’s said I’ve bin – eh?”
“We guessed,” Hermione admitted apologetically.
“Oh, yeh did, did yeh?” Hagrid said.
“It was kind of…obvious,” Ron said as I nodded in agreement.
“Never known kids like you three fer knowin’ more’n you oughta,” Hagrid muttered. “An’ I’m not complimentin’ yeh, neither. Nosy, some’d call it. Interferin’.”
But even with his complaints, he gave in. Over the next hour he detailed his mission for Dumbledore. The journey had been rough for both him and Madame Maxime, who had set out with him at the end of the previous term. Their attempts to warm up the giants toward our view of things had been going well at first, until a sudden and bloody change of power had occurred overnight within the camp thanks to a giant named Golgomath. The arrival of Death Eaters, who had also brought their own gifts for the giants had made it clear that mission wasn’t going to succeed. Hagrid and Madame Maxime had split off on their journey home and Hagrid had only just not gotten back.
“So…so there aren’t any giant’s coming?” Ron asked, looking disappointed.
“Nope,” Hagrid said, heaving a deep sigh as he turned over the steak to apply the cooler side to his face once more. “But we did wha’ we meant ter do, we gave ‘em Dumbledore’s message an’ some o’ them heard it an’ I’spect some o’ them’ll remember it. Jus’ maybe, them that don’ want ter stay around Golgomath’ll move outta the mountains, an’ there’s gotta be a chance they’ll remember Dumbledore’s friendly to’em…Could be they’ll come…”
Snow was filling up the window now. The knees of my robes had become soaked in dog slobber thanks to Fang.
“Hagrid?” Hermione said quietly after a while.
“Mmm?”
“Did you…was there any sign of…did you hear anything about your…your…mother while you were there?”
Hagrid’s unobscured eye rested on Hermione and she seemed rather nervous.
“I’m sorry…I…forget it –“
“Dead,” Hagrid grunted. “Died years ago. They told me.”
“Oh…I’m…I’m really sorry,” Hermione said in a small voice.
“Don’t be,” Hagrid insisted. “Can’ remember her much. Wasn’ a great mother.”
We were all silent again, not sure how to pick the conversation back up after such news. Eventually Ron broke the silence by bringing the topic back to what had happened to Hagrid, seeing as he and Madame Maxine were never attacked in his story.
“But you still haven’t explained how you got in this state, Hagrid.”
“Or why you’re back so late,” I added. “Sirius told us Madame Maxime got back ages ago-“
“Who attacked you?” Ron asked.
“I haven’ bin attacked!” Hagrid insisted emphatically. “I –“
His words were drowned in a sudden outbreak of knocking on the door. Hermione gasped; her mug slipped through her fingers and smashed on the floor. Fang yelped. We all turned toward the window beside the door and could make out the shade a small squat somebody through the curtain.
“It’s her!” Ron whispered.
“Get under here!” I said quickly as I pulled the invisibility cloak out once again.
“Hagrid, hide our mugs!” Hermione whispered as we disappeared under the cloak.
After tossing our mugs into a cabinet Hagrid pushed his way past Fang to open the door. Professor Umbridge was standing in the doorway wearing her green tweed cloack and a matching hat with earflaps. Lips pursed, she leaned back so she could look up into Hagrid’s face.
“So,” she said slowly and loudly,as though speaking to somebody deaf. “You’re Hagrid, are you?”
Without waiting for an answer she strolled into the room, her eyes rolling in every direction of the cabin.
“Er – I don’ want ter be rude,” Hagrid said, staring down at her, “but who the ruddy hell are you?”
“My name is Dolores Umbridge.”
“Dolores Umbridge?” Hagrid said, sounding thoroughly confused. “I thought you were one o’ them Ministry – don’ you work with Fudge?”
“I was Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, yes.” Umbridge said, now pacing around the cabin, taking in every tiny detail. “I am now the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher –“
“Tha’s brave of yeh,” Hagrid said. “There’s not many’d take tha’ job anymore –“
“- and Hogwarts High Inquisitor.” Umbridge finished, giving no sign that she had heard Hagrid speak.
“What’s that?” He asked.
“Precisely what I was going to ask,” Umbridge said, pointing to the tea cup that Hermione dropped on the floor.
“Oh,” Hagrid said quickly, “oh, tha’ was…was Fang. He broke a mug. So I had ter use this one instead.”
“I heard voices,” Umbridge continued.
“I was talkin’ ter Fang.”
“And was he talking back to you?”
“Well…in a manner o’ speakin’,” Hagrid said, looking uncomfortable. “I sometimes say Fang’s near enough human –“
“There are three sets of footprints in the snow leading from the castle doors to your cabin,” Umbridge said sleekly.
Hermione gasped and a clapped a hand over her mouth. Thankfully for us, Fang was sniffing loudly and instently around Umbridges feet at that very moment, drowning out the small sound.
“Well, I on’y jus’ got back,” Hagrid admitted. “Maybe someone came ter call earlier an’ I missed ‘em.”
“There are no footsteps leading away from your cabin door.” Umbridge said with one of her sickening little smiles. “What has happened to you? How did you sustain those injuries?”
“I…I tripped…” Hagrid said weakly.
“Tripped?” Umbridge’s eyes began to rake over the cabin again. “I see. And where have you been?”
“Where’ve I…?”
“Been, yes.”
“I – I’ve been away for me health.”
“For your health,” Umbridge asked, clearly in disbelief. “Well you ought to know that as High Inquisitor it is my unfortunate but necessary duty to inspect my fellow teachers. So I daresay we shall meet again soon enough.”
Umbridge turned to leave but Hagrid stopped her short.
“You’re inspectin us?”
“Oh yes,” Umbridge said brightly. “The Ministry is determined to weed out unsatisfactory teachers, Hagrid. Good night.”
With that she left, closing the door behind her.
Hagrid gave it a moment before approaching the window and pulling back the curtain.
“She’s goin’ back ter the castle,” he said in a low voice. “Blimey…inspectin’ people, is she?”
“Yeah,” I said, pulling the cloak off the three of us. “Trelawney’s on probation already…”
“Um…what sort of thing are you planning to do with us in class, Hagrid?” Hermione asked.
“Oh, don’ you worry abou’ that, I’ve got a great load o’ lessons planned.” Hagrid said enthusiastically. “I’ve bin keepin’ a couple o’ creatures saved fer yer O.W.L. year, you wait, they’re somethin’ really special.”
“Er…special in what way?”
“I’m not sayin’” Hagrid answered happily.
“Look, Hagrid,” Hermione continued on urgently. “Professor Umbridge won’t be at all happy if you bring anything to class that’s too dangerous –“
“Dangerous? Don’ be silly, I wouldn’ give yeh anythin’ dangerous! I mean, all righ’, they can look after themselves –“
“Hagrid, yuou’ve got to pass Umbridge’s inspection, and to do that yit would really be better if she saw you teaching us how to look after porlocks, how to tell the difference between knarls and hedgehogs, stuff like that!” Hermione interrupted.
“Lis’en, it’s bin a long day an’ it’s late. Don’ you go worryin’ abou’ me, I promise yeh I’ve got really good stuff planned fer yer lessons now I’m back…Now you lot had better get back up to the castle, an’ don’ forget ter wipe yer footprints out behind yeh!”
As we made our way back to the castle, Hermione walked backwards under the cloak to charm away our footprints as we went.
“I dunno if you got through to him,” Ron said.
“Then I’ll go back again tomorrow,” Hermione insisted. “I’ll plan his lessons for him if I have to. I don’t care if she throws out Trelawney, but she’s not taking Hagrid.”
That was exactly what Hermione did the following day, and the day after that, and the day after that. No matter how persistent she was, Hagrid would neither accept her help or tell her what he had planned for when he took over lessons again at the beginning of the next week.
“This is hopeless,” Hermione said in exasperation as she slid into a chair beside Ron and I in the common room. “He refuses to listen to reason.”
“Well let’s just hope then that whatever he has planned won’t get him sacked.” I said.
“That requires quite a bit of hope,” Ron mumbled.

Draco
I had spent the last thirty minutes of Defense trying to get Eleanor’s attention. Each tap of my foot against hers seem to do nothing as she kept her eyes trained on Professor Umbridge. It was one of those rare days where Eleanor was actually present for Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Tap. I tried again. Nothing.
Eleanor didn’t blink, didn’t flinch, didn’t move in the slightest way that could have told me she had even registered my attempts. She was so completely focused on Umbridge that nothing else seemed to even exist to her.
I sighed, frustrated. It had been days since the Quidditch match, and since Eleanor had confronted me in the common room, she hadn’t spoken to me. In fact, she had gone as far as to refuse to even look in my direction at all. For the most part she seemed to have disappeared from Slytherin altogether. According to a frazeled Pansy when I asked her, Eleanor hadn’t been in the fourth year girls’ dorm since the night of the match. I had checked the library multiple times, but could never find her there. Astoria was clueless as to where Eleanor had been. Then there was the fact that she hadn’t been in the Great Hall for any meals either. Looking at her as she sat beside me, she seemed exhausted.
“Eleanor,” I whispered as quietly as I could, hoping that she would at least respond to me to tell me to be quiet.
Nothing.
Tap.
Nothing.
Tap.
Nothing.
“Eleanor,” I tried again.
“What the hell do you want?” Eleanor said, not bothering to be quiet.
The head of every other student had snapped up in our direction, and as I looked to the front of the room I could see Umbridge narrowing her eyes in twisted interest.
“Is there something you needed to say, Miss Potter?” Umbridge said, a smile spreading wide.
Eleanor didn’t turn away from for a moment, and I couldn’t help but feel glad that she at least finally looked me in the eye. Then her gaze was suddenly gone as she turned back to Umbridge.
“Actually, yes.” Eleanor said, returning the Professor’s expression in kind.
“Eleanor, stop!”I hissed.
“Don’t interrupt, Mister Malfoy.” Umbridge chided me.
“Professor, she didn’t mean –“
“I think Miss Potter is under the impression that she can speak for herself, Mister Malfoy. So I suggest you allow her to do so.”
I slumped back into my chair. I had just meant to get Eleanor’s attention, not get her into trouble.
“So what is it, Miss Potter? More complaints about our lovely textbook?” Umbridge asked.
“No, I think we’ve thoroughly covered the fact that it’s a useless piece of trash. Much like yourself, actually.” Eleanor said with a false brightness.
“Excuse me, but I will not have –“
“Oh, I wasn’t finished.” Eleanor interrupted Umbridge before she could get too far. “What I was currently considering telling you was that you’re not only trash, but you’re also pathetic.”
“Now that will be quite enough, Miss Potter.” Umbridge said loudly, standing from her seat, hands placed firmly against her desk. “That will be another detention-“
“Still not finished.” Eleanor interrupted again.
“Stop it,” I hissed, though Eleanor paid me no mind.
“As I was saying, Professor, you’re pathetic. Only a terrible teachers such as yourself would ban members of another house from Quidditch while refusing to hold their own students to the same standard.” Eleanor said, copying Umbridge’s actions and standing at her own desk.
“You just do not know when to drop it.” Umbridge hissed loudly.
“Oh I certainly do know when, I just don’t want to.” Eleanor responded simply.
“Are you hoping to obtain more detentions, Miss Potter?”
“You can give them if you like, but they won’t make a difference. They won’t make you a capable teacher, or a decent person to any degree. You will continue to be insufferably pathetic.”
“Then you will be in my office each night for the rest of the week for detention.” Umbridge hissed.
“Fine.” Eleanor said, as if the matter made no difference to her whatsoever.
Just as Umbridge made to open her mouth yet again, the bell rang out overhead and Eleanor turned quickly and left.
I grabbed my bag and rushed out after her to see Potter and his friends were doing the same.
“Eleanor!” Potter shouted after her.
He shoved his bag into Weasley’s arm and jogged to catch up to her. He pulled her into a neighboring corridor and I lagged behind as Weasley and Granger followed after them.
I couldn’t catch the beginning of their conversation, but as I closed in on the corner they had turned I did hear something that brought a number of questions to my mind.
“You can’t just go around upsetting her on purpose.” Potter hissed.
“As if you haven’t done the same,” Eleanor scoffed.
“Not like this, I haven’t.” Potter said harshly. “She’s going to keep hurting you. You know that, so why are you doing this?”
“Someone has to stand up to her, Harry.” Eleanor hissed. “I don’t care what she does to me. I care about what she’s doing to other students she gives detention to. In case you haven’t noticed we’re not the only students who have walked around here with bandaged hands. She needs to be stopped, and if Dumbledore can’t or won’t do it, then I’ll keep standing up to her until something changes.”
“Yeah, because you losing it with Umbridge today had nothing to do with Malfoy.” Potter said. “You looked like you were about to throttle him before Umbridge interrupted you.”
“And so what if I was?” Eleanor hisses. “Whatever goes on between me and Malfoy is my business, Harry. It’s not yours. You’ve made it perfectly clear that you think the worst of him.”
“And you don’t?!” He said in disbelief. “You literally broke his nose with your broom.”
“He fucking deserved that, and you know it!”
“Yeah, I do know it, that’s my whole point!”
“Just because he can be a right arse, Harry, doesn’t mean that he’s so far gone that there’s nothing good left in him.” Eleanor said. “He’s done way more for me than you have. So the next time you consider speaking to me about him, I suggest you try shutting your mouth instead.”
I could hear hurried footsteps, and quickly turned back the way I had come from to avoid being caught eavesdropping. To my relief no one called out after me as I disappeared down another corridor. The further I got, however, the more my mind was reeling.
Eleanor had implied that both her and Harry had suffered hand injuries of some sort, and that they weren’t the only ones. I was aware that something about her bandaged hand must have to do with her detention, but I hadn’t noticed anyone else walking around with a similar injury. To be honest though, I hadn’t been checking. It made no difference to me what other students were dealing with, but if Eleanor was right then there must be something actually going on. I still had no idea what the injury on her hand was though, and she had never let me close to discovering it either. If other students were in a similar situation though, then maybe I could figure out from someone else.