Reflections - Mattheo Riddle

Dangerous

Kirra had ploughed her way back to Hagrid's cabin through two feet of snow on Sunday morning to try and persuade him not to teach anything dangerous, but she doubted any of what she had said had actually gotten through to the man and now here she sat with her boys, their mountain of homework had reached an alarming height again, so they sat in the common room, trying to ignore the gleeful shouts drifting up from the grounds outside, where students were enjoying themselves skating on the frozen lake, tobogganing and, snowball fights. 

'So?' said Jasper looking away from his homework. 'Got all his lessons planned for him?'

'Well, I tried,' she said dully, sinking into a chair more, a huff falling from her lips. '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 –'

Theodore 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?' he asked.

'No,' said Kirra 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 Jasper and Theodore'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.'

Hagrid's reappearance at the staff table at breakfast next day was not greeted by enthusiasm from all students. Some, like Fred, George and Lee, roared with delight and sprinted up the aisle between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables to wring Hagrid's enormous hand; others, like Draco and his goons, exchanged annoyed looks and shook their heads. 

Kirra knew that many of them preferred Professor Grubbly-Plank's lessons, and the worst of it was that a very small, unbiased part of her knew that they had good reason: Grubbly-Plank's idea of an interesting class was not one where there was a risk that somebody might have their head ripped off.

It was with a certain amount of apprehension that Kirra and the boys headed down to Hagrid's on Tuesday, heavily muffled against the cold. Kirra was worried, not only about what Hagrid might have decided to teach them, but also about how the rest of the class, particularly Malfoy and his cronies, would behave if Umbridge was watching them.

However, the High Inquisitor was nowhere to be seen as they struggled through the snow towards Hagrid, who stood waiting for them on the edge of the Forest. He did not present a reassuring sight; the bruises that had been purple on Saturday night were now tinged with green and yellow and some of his cuts still seemed to be bleeding. 

Kirra could not understand this: had Hagrid perhaps been attacked by some creature whose venom prevented the wounds it inflicted from healing? As though to complete the ominous picture, Hagrid was carrying what looked like half a dead cow over his shoulder.

'We're workin' in here today!' Hagrid called happily to the approaching students, jerking his head back at the dark trees behind him. 'Bit more sheltered! Anyway, they prefer the dark.'

'What prefers the dark?' Kirra heard Malfoy say sharply to Crabbe and Goyle, a trace of panic in his voice. 'What did he say prefers the dark – did you hear?'

Kirra remembered the only other occasion on which Malfoy had entered the Forest before now; he had not been very brave then, either. She smiled to herself; after the Quidditch match anything that caused Malfoy discomfort was all right with her.