The days blurred together, and Hogwarts didn’t feel quite like Hogwarts anymore. Everywhere I turned, pink proclamations and oppressive rules plastered the walls, and the suffocating presence of Umbridge loomed over everything like a foul spell. Even the usual chaos of OWLs week felt overshadowed by her iron grip on the school.
Today was the Care of Magical Creatures exam. Normally, I wouldn’t mind it—being outside was a welcome break—but the nerves hit hard. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation, maybe it was still being mad at Sirius, or maybe it was the growing dread that any moment, Umbridge might decide to ruin everything just for fun.
I tugged my robes tighter as I headed to the paddock, feeling the chilly morning wind bite at my skin. Students shuffled around me, murmuring nervously.
“Any idea what the creature’s going to be?” Del asked from beside me, squinting toward the paddock where Professor Grubbly-Plank was waiting. She’d been standing in for Hagrid, who, for all I knew, was probably off wrestling a giant or something.
“Probably nothing friendly,” I muttered, pulling my gloves tighter. “Knowing our luck, we’ll get something with too many teeth or not enough limbs.”
Del snorted. “That’s optimistic.”
When we reached the paddock, Grubbly-Plank clapped her hands to gather our attention. “All right, settle down! For today’s practical, you’ll be working with Bowtruckles. You’ll need to demonstrate how to handle them safely and explain their uses. Everyone take a station and get started.”
Bowtruckles. Could’ve been worse.
I shuffled to my assigned tree, where a nest of them clung to the branches like tiny, suspicious stick figures. One of them gave me a narrow-eyed glare, as if it already knew I wasn’t in the mood. I reached into my bag for a few woodlice—Bowtruckles were notoriously picky eaters—and held them out in my palm.
“There. See? Food,” I whispered to the one closest to me. “Now let me just—”
The Bowtruckle smacked the woodlice out of my hand.
“Brilliant,” I muttered, shaking my hand off and bending down to pick them up again. “You little—”
Del leaned over from her station. “How’s it going with your new friend?” she whispered, grinning.
“Oh, fantastic,” I whispered back, offering the woodlice again. “We’re practically best mates.”
This time, the Bowtruckle hesitated before snatching the bugs from my palm. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and reached for the branch. “See? Cooperation.”
It hissed.
I pulled my hand back immediately. “Fine, fine. Keep your branch.”
Del chuckled under her breath, focusing on her own Bowtruckle. “At least they’re not Blast-Ended Skrewts.”
“That’s the most comfort I’ve gotten all week,” I muttered, glancing toward the edge of the paddock where Professor Grubbly-Plank was supervising. She gave us a nod, as if to say, You’re not failing yet—keep going.
A few minutes later, a gust of wind sent a ripple through the trees, and my Bowtruckle immediately started chittering nervously. I tried to offer it more woodlice to keep it calm, but it leaped from the branch and scuttled up my arm, digging its tiny claws into my sleeve.
“Hey, hey! Easy!” I hissed, trying to shake it loose without causing a scene.
“Need some help over there?” Del asked, struggling not to laugh.
YOU ARE READING
THE LOST DOG ' s. black
FanfictionI snuggled against the warm, comforting arms around me, feeling myself drift deeper into sleep once again as Hypnos called upon me. I sighed in relief, my eyes closed shut while I embraced the beautiful moment. Then I stopped. I didn't have a boyfr...
