Destined| Goblet of Fire: Book 4

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Kiana

The painful start of December brought wind and sleet to Hogwarts. Drafty though the castle always was in winter, I was glad of its fires and thick walls every time I passed the Durmstrang ship on the lake, which was pitching in the high winds, its black sails billowing against the dark skies. I thought the Beauxbatons caravan was likely to be pretty chilly too. Hagrid, I noticed, was keeping Madame Maxime's horses well nourished with their preferred drink of single-malt whiskey; the fumes wafting from the trough in the corner of their paddock was enough to make the entire Care of Magical Creatures class light-headed. This was unhelpful, as we were still tending the horrible skrewts and needed our wits about them.

"I'm not sure whether they hibernate or not," Hagrid told our shivering class in the windy pumpkin patch next lesson. "Thought we'd jus' try an' see if they fancied a kip . . . we'll jus' settle 'em down in these boxes. . . ."

There were now only ten skrewts left thankfully; apparently their desire to kill one another had not been exercised out of them. Each of them was now approaching six feet in length. Their thick gray armor; their powerful, scuttling legs; their fire-blasting ends; their stings and their suckers, combined to make the skrewts the most repulsive things I had ever seen. Our class looked dispiritedly at the enormous boxes Hagrid had brought out, all lined with pillows and fluffy blankets.

"We'll jus' lead 'em in here," Hagrid said, "an' put the lids on, and we'll see what happens."

But the skrewts, it sadly seemed, did not hibernate, and did not appreciate being forced into pillow-lined boxes and nailed in. Hagrid was soon yelling, "Don' panic, now, don' panic!" while the skrewts rampaged around the pumpkin patch, now strewn with the smoldering wreckage of the boxes.

Most of the class - Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle in the lead - had fled into Hagrid's cabin through the back door and barricaded themselves in; Harry, Ron, Jake, Hermione and I, however, were among those who remained outside trying to help Hagrid. Together we managed to restrain and tie up nine of the skrewts, though at the cost of numerous burns and cuts; finally, only one skrewt was left.

"Don' frighten him, now!" Hagrid shouted as Ron and Harry used their wands to shoot jets of fiery sparks at the skrewt, which was advancing menacingly on them, its sting arched, quivering, over its back. "Jus' try an' slip the rope 'round his sting, so he won' hurt any o' the others!"

"Yeah, we wouldn't want that!" Ron shouted angrily as he and Harry backed into the wall of Hagrid's cabin.

Ron and Jake were across from them as Hermione and I stood together.

"What's wrong with Harry?" I asked worriedly.

Lately, Harry's been a bit distant with me and every time I talk to him he shuts me out.

"Nothing is wrong with Harry," Hermione lied.

I know how they all lie. Hermione's was the most obvious.

"You're lying, so is Ron and so is Jake." I frowned. "When did we start lying to each other?"

Hermione froze.

"It isn't like that," Hermione frowned.

"No, you guys don't tell me anything anymore," I spat.

"It's hard to understand," Hermione groaned.

"WHAT'S HARD TO UNDERSTAND!" I snapped.