Divine Violence

The Beheaded

The Beheaded

"Beautiful day," Hermione sighed as she closed her eyes and lifted her chin to the sky as the four of them walked to Hagrid's hut.

"Gorgeous," Ron glared at the girl. "Unless you've been ripped to pieces!"

"Ripped to pieces? What are you talking about?" Priscilla raised her brow to the boy.

"Ronald has lost his rat," Hermione explained, matter-of-factly.

"I haven't lost anything! Your cat killed him!" The boy crossed his arms, fuming.

"Rubbish," she huffed out.

"Harry, you've seen the way that bloodthirsty beast of hers is always lurking about. And Scabbers is gone," the red head brought the other boy into the conversation.

"Well, maybe you should take better care of your pets!" Priscilla defended her roommate.

"Her cat killed him!"

"Did not," Hermione argued.

"Did."

"Didn't."

"Alright enough, you two are giving me and splitting headache," Priscilla rubbed her temples.

As soon as they got to Hagrid's, the man suggested they take a stroll to the Black Lake. He seemed to be just as upset as Ron.

"How did it go, Hagrid? The hearing?" Harry asked, guessing it went wrong considering his mood.

"Well, first off, the committee members took turns talking about why we were there. I got up and did my piece. Said how Buckbeak was a good hippogriff, always cleaned his feathers," the half-giant through a flat rock towards the water, making it skip.

"And then Lucius Malfoy got up. Well, you can imagine. He said Buckbeak was a deadly and dangerous creature who would kill you as soon as he looked at you."

"And then?" Priscilla asked nervously.

"And then he asked for the worst, did old Lucius."

"They're not sacking you!" Hermione asked baffled. It wasn't even Buckbeak's fault let alone Hagrid's.

"No, I'm not sacked," his shoulder's slumped as he threw the rock in his hand straight down near his feet. "Buckbeak's been sentenced to death!"

"No!" The black haired girl yelled shocked. "They can't do that, I'll write a letter to them and tell them what really happened!"

"It's no use, Malfoy has too much power over the ministry," he shook his head.

Later that night, Priscilla sat in the common room drinking her black coffee as she studied dark creatures from her text book. She still couldn't sleep, or rather didn't want to. The bags under her eyes were horrid now but it was better than every time she tried to relax the images of her beheaded grandmother were there.

She wondered if she could go into her mind like she did the day before Christmas and try locking it away, so even she couldn't see it or get to it.