human again / hp.

Chapter 55

The sunlight filtered weakly through an overcast sky, casting the Hogwarts grounds in a pale, listless light. Spring had transformed the landscape into a vibrant tapestry of green, but the beauty was lost on me. Each step down the sloping hill toward Hagrid's hut felt heavier than the last, as though the weight of Buckbeak's impending execution was pressing me into the earth. The castle was abuzz with the news, and the suffocating helplessness clung to every corner, infecting every whispered conversation.

As I neared the pumpkin patch, my gaze drifted toward Hagrid's hut. It stood there, stoic and weathered, its usual charm marred by the bleakness of the moment. A soft breeze stirred the grass around me, but the fresh air did little to lift the oppressive sense of foreboding. Then, breaking through the uneasy quiet, voices reached my ears—loud, cruel, and unmistakably familiar.

Draco.

I froze, my stomach twisting as I followed the sound to a cluster of towering stones near the edge of the pumpkin patch. Cautiously, I crept closer, peering around one of the massive boulders. Sure enough, there he was, standing with Crabbe and Goyle, his pale blond hair catching the muted light. In his hand, he held a pair of binoculars, which he had trained on Hagrid and Buckbeak.

Hagrid was a sorry sight, his massive shoulders slumped as he tossed ferrets to the hippogriff. Buckbeak snapped them up mechanically, his usual grace and vitality dulled by the pall of his looming execution. My heart ached as I saw Hagrid wipe his eyes with a trembling hand before retreating into his hut. The image was like a knife to my chest, and I clenched my fists as Draco's mocking voice rang out.

"Did you see the big, fat blubbering oaf?!" he jeered, a malicious grin spreading across his face. "Oh, this is going to be rich. Did I tell you, Father said I can keep the head—"

His words cut off abruptly as a new presence entered the scene. Hermione, Ron, and Harry emerged from the path, their expressions thunderous. Hermione, in particular, looked as though she were on the verge of exploding, her wand gripped tightly in her hand. I felt a knot of tension form in my stomach. I recognized that look all too well.

Draco, still smirking, turned to them, his tone dripping with mockery. "Ah. Come to see the show?"

He didn't even get the chance to finish his taunt. Hermione's fury erupted like a volcano.

"You... foul... loathsome... evil... little cockroach!" she spat, each word sharper than the last. Her wand was out and under Draco's nose in an instant, forcing him to stumble back against a tree, his smug expression replaced by alarm.

For a brief, satisfying moment, I savored the sight of my brother cowering. He deserved every bit of Hermione's wrath.

"Hermione! No!" Ron's voice broke through the moment, loud and urgent. He stepped forward, his face pale with alarm.

Hermione froze, clearly startled that Ron of all people had stopped her. Draco, meanwhile, looked as though he were holding his breath, his pale face practically blending in with the overcast sky.

"He's not worth it," Ron said, his voice quieter now, though the strain in it was obvious. His gaze fell, as though saying the words out loud was painful.

Hermione hesitated for a moment, her grip on her wand tightening. Then, quicker than anyone could have expected—SMACK! Her fist connected with Draco's jaw, sending him crumpling to the ground. I couldn't stop the grin that spread across my face. For a fleeting moment, the gray clouds seemed a little less oppressive.

"Let's go!" Draco yelped, scrambling to his feet and clutching his face. He shot a venomous glare at Hermione before stumbling away, Crabbe and Goyle lumbering after him like loyal but useless guard dogs.

I stepped out from behind the stone, arms crossed and my face set in a stony expression. "Draco."

He froze mid-step, his pale eyes widening for a fraction of a second before narrowing again. Slowly, he turned to face me, his posture stiff. "What do you want?" he snapped, his voice dripping with defensive venom.

"What do I want?" My voice rose, shaking with anger. "I want to know how you can live with yourself."

He rolled his eyes and tried to brush past me, but I stepped into his path, forcing him to stop. "I'm talking about Buckbeak," I pressed, my tone sharp enough to cut glass. "Do you even care what happens to him? Or are you so busy trying to impress Father that you can't think about anyone else?"

Draco's face darkened, his hand still clutching his jaw. "That beast attacked me. It deserves—"

"Attacked you?" I interrupted, disbelief lacing my voice. "You provoked him, Draco! Everyone saw it! Hagrid warned you to back off, but you just couldn't resist showing off."

His lips parted, ready to retort, but I didn't give him the chance.

"Do you have any idea what this is doing to Hagrid?" I demanded, my voice trembling. "He loves Buckbeak, Draco. That hippogriff is his whole world, and you're standing here laughing about it like it's some kind of joke. And for what? To make Father proud? To look big in front of your lackeys?"

Draco's eyes narrowed into slits, his voice icy. "Don't lecture me about Father," he hissed. "You have no idea what it's like—"

"I know exactly what it's like!" I shot back, stepping closer. "I know how hard it is to stand up to him. But that doesn't give you the right to ruin lives just because you can."

For a long moment, Draco just stared at me, his expression unreadable. Then, as though flipping a switch, his sneer returned. "You've been spending too much time with the Gryffindors," he said coldly. "You're starting to sound like one."

With that, he turned on his heel and strode away, Crabbe and Goyle trailing behind him like shadows. I watched him go, my fists clenched and my heart pounding. The weight of my words lingered in the air, but whether they'd reached him or not, I couldn't tell.

"Celeste?" Hermione's voice broke the silence, drawing my attention. She, Ron, and Harry stood a few paces away, their faces a mix of surprise and something like admiration.

"You really let him have it," Harry said, his tone quiet but filled with respect. A blush crept up my cheeks, and I looked away.

"Someone had to," I muttered. "I just... I can't stand him sometimes."

For a moment, none of them said anything. Then Hermione stepped forward, resting a gentle hand on my arm. "You did the right thing," she said softly, her brown eyes earnest.I nodded, though the knot in my chest didn't loosen. 

Then I excused myself to go back to the castle alone because the trio still wanted to talk to Hagrid. The air felt heavier with each step, and as I neared the gates, I glanced back at Hagrid's hut. The sight of Buckbeak standing in his paddock, unaware of his grim fate, brought a fresh pang of guilt and sadness.

I wanted to believe I could reach my brother, that I could make him see the harm he was causing. But as the walls between us grew thicker and higher, I wasn't sure I ever would.