Rebecca Weasley and the prisoner of Azkaban

Rest in peace

Rebecca's pov

We got a letter from Hagrid after we finished our exams. The letter told us not to visit because Buckbeak was due to be executed so of course we threw on the invisibility cloak and made our way down to Hagrid's. We reached Hagrid’s cabin and knocked. He was a minute in answering, and when he did, he looked all around for his visitor, pale-faced and trembling.

“It’s us,” Harry hissed. “We’re wearing the Invisibility Cloak. Let us in and we can take it off.”

“You shouldn't have come!” Hagrid whispered, but he stood back, and we stepped inside. Hagrid shut the door quickly and Harry pulled off the cloak.

Hagrid was not crying, nor did he throw himself upon their necks. He looked like a man who did not know where he was or what to do. This helplessness was worse to watch than tears.

“Want some tea?” he said. His great hands were shaking as he reached for the kettle.

“Where’s Buckbeak, Hagrid?” Hermione asked hesitantly.

“I — I took him outside.” Hagrid said, spilling milk all over the table as he filled up the jug. “He’s tethered in my pumpkin patch. Thought he had to see the trees and- and smell fresh air- before-”

Hagrid’s hand trembled so violently that the milk jug slipped from his grasp and shattered all over the floor.

“I’ll do it, Hagrid.” Hermione said quickly, hurrying over and starting to clean up the mess.

“There’s another one in the cupboard.” Hagrid said, sitting down and wiping his forehead on his sleeve.

“Isn’t there anything anyone can do, Hagrid?” Harry asked fiercely, sitting down next to him. “Dumbledore-”

“He’s tried.” Hagrid said. “He’s got no power to overrule the Committee. He told them Buckbeak’s all right, but they’re scared… You know what Lucius Malfoy’s like… threatened them, I expect… and the executioner, Macnair, he’s an old pal of Malfoy’s… but it’ll be quick andclean… and I’ll be beside him…” Hagrid swallowed. His eyes were darting all over the cabin as though looking for some shred of hope or comfort.  “Dumbledore’s gonna come down while it — while it happens. Wrote me this morning. Said he wants to — to be with me. Great man, Dumbledore…”

Hermione, who had been rummaging in Hagrid’s cupboard for another milk jug, let out a small, quickly stifled sob. She straightened up with the new jug in her hands, fighting back tears.  “We’ll stay with you too, Hagrid,” she began, but Hagrid shook his shaggy head.

“You have to go back up to the castle. I told you, I don’t want you watching. And you shouldn’t be down here anyway… If Fudge and Dumbledore catch you out without permission, Harry, you’ll be in big trouble.” Hagrid said.

Silent tears were now streaming down Hermione’s face, but she hid them from Hagrid, bustling around making tea. Then, as she picked up the milk bottle to pour some into the jug, she let out a shriek.

“Ron, I don’t believe it — it’s Scabbers!” Hermione exclaimed.

“What are you talking about?” Ron asked.

Hermione carried the milk jug over to the table and turned it upside down. With a frantic squeak, and much scrambling to get back inside, Scabbers the rat came sliding out onto the table.