human again / hp.

Chapter 90

I regretted not wearing a thicker cloak the second I stepped outside.

The wind was sharp, slicing through the air as if it had been honed to a blade's edge. The grounds of Hogwarts, usually blanketed in fresh, white snow, had turned into a slushy, half-frozen mess, and my boots left deep impressions with every step I took.

Ahead of me, Hagrid stood waiting at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Even from a distance, I could see that he still looked horrible—his bruises, an awful mix of green and yellow, stood out against his thick, wild beard, and his left eye was still slightly swollen. Though most of the cuts across his face had begun to heal, some of them still looked raw, as if they had split open again from too much movement.

I knew what had happened—or at least, what little Harry, Ron, and Hermione had told me. I hadn't gone with them to visit Hagrid when he'd returned, not because I didn't care, but because... well, I didn't know if Hagrid cared to see me. He'd always been more fond of the others, than the other Malfoy, and I could hardly blame him for that.

Still, seeing him like this—still hurt, still refusing to tell anyone what exactly had happened—made my stomach twist.

As if that wasn't bizarre enough, Hagrid had half a dead cow slung over his shoulder.

It was big—probably a cow, or at least something similar. Its legs hung limply, swaying slightly as Hagrid shifted under the weight. Blood was still dripping from where it had been split in half, staining the fresh snow beneath him.

The class froze.

"What in the name of Merlin—" Pansy Parkinson gagged, clutching her scarf to her nose.

"Ah, don' worry about this," Hagrid said cheerfully, adjusting the carcass. "Yeh'll see what it's for in a bit."

"That's not comforting," I muttered to Harry, who exhaled through his nose, his breath visible in the freezing air.

"It's Hagrid," he said simply. "Did you really expect anything else?"

Before I could answer, Hagrid clapped his hands together and made the announcement that caused the entire class to stiffen.

"Righ' then! We're headin' into the forest today."

A murmur of uneasy protest spread through the group, but Hagrid, either oblivious or choosing to ignore it, turned and began walking towards the trees.

I sighed, pulling my cloak tighter, and followed.

The walk through the forest was cold, silent, and unnerving. Every step took us deeper into the shadows, where the skeletal branches of trees reached out like bony hands, clawing at the gray sky. The usual background noise of birds and small creatures was absent, making it feel like we were intruding somewhere we shouldn't be.

For once, Draco wasn't complaining—at least, not exactly. Instead, he asked questions in that slow, drawling voice, though it was clear he thought the whole thing was pointless.

"What are we supposed to be looking at today, Professor?" he asked. "Something as fascinating as Blast-Ended Skrewts?"

Hagrid sighed heavily. "Yeh'll find out soon enough, Malfoy."

Draco huffed but didn't push further.

After about ten minutes, we reached a clearing.

Hagrid stopped and heaved the half-cow onto the ground with a sickening thud.

"Gather 'round!" he called, grinning as he brushed the blood off his hands.

Hesitantly, we moved closer.