False Gods, Harry Potter. [ HIATUS ]

lii. the eye of the snake

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˚ · • ꗃ 𓈈 " chapter 𝒇𝒊𝒇𝒕𝒚-𝒕𝒘𝒐" 𓂃 ! ⊹˚˖⁺  

𝐕𝐎𝐋. 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 ━ 𝕹𝗼𝘁 𝕬 𝕲𝗼𝗱'𝘀 𝕮𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗻 °. ୭̥❁.*
━━ ❪ 𝙷𝙰𝚁𝚁𝚈 𝙿𝙾𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁 ❫ . ˚ ⚘ ▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆

HERMIONE AND ALENA PLOWED THEIR WAY BACK TO HAGRID'S CABIN THROUGH TWO FEET OF SNOW ON SUNDAY MORNING. Harry and Ron wanted to go with them, but their mountain of homework had reached an alarming height again and Alena agreed to stay back and help them witb it, so they remained in the common room, trying to ignore the gleeful shouts drifting up from the grounds out- side, where students were enjoying themselves skating on the frozen lake, tobogganing, and worst of all, bewitching snowballs to zoom up to Gryffindor Tower and rap hard on the windows.

     "Oy!" bellowed Ron, finally losing patience and sticking his head out of the window, "I am a prefect and if one more snowball hits this window — OUCH!"

     He withdrew his head sharply, his face covered in snow.

     "It's Fred and George," he said bitterly, slamming the window behind him. "Gits . . ." 

     Hermione returned from Hagrid's just before lunch, shivering slightly, her robes damp to the knees.

     "So?" said Ron, looking up when she entered. "Got all his lessons planned for him?"

"Well, I tried," she said dully, sinking into a chair beside Alena. She pulled out her wand and gave it a complicated little wave so that hot air streamed out of the tip; she then pointed this at her robes, which began to steam as they dried out. "He wasn't even there when I arrived, I was knocking for at least half an hour. And then he came stumping out of the forest —"

Harry groaned. The Forbidden Forest was teeming with the kind of creatures most likely to get Hagrid the sack.

"What's he keeping in there? Did he say?" asked Alena.

"No," said Hermione miserably. "He says he wants them to be a surprise. I tried to explain about Umbridge, but he just doesn't get it. He kept saying nobody in their right mind would rather study knarls than chimaeras — oh I don't think he's got a chimaera," she added at the appalled look on Harry, Alena,and Ron's faces, "but that's not for lack of trying from what he said about how hard it is to get eggs. . . . I don't know how many times I told him he'd be better off following Grubbly-Plank's plan, I honestly don't think he listened to half of what I said. He's in a bit of a funny mood, you know. He still won't say how he got all those injuries. . . ."