looked dreadful. He was thinner than ever, large tufts of hair had fallen out leaving wide bald patches, and he writhed in Ron's hands as though desperate to free himself 

"It's okay, Scabbers!" said Ron. "No cats! There's nothing here to hurt you!"

 Hagrid suddenly stood up, his eyes fixed on the window. His normally ruddy face had gone the color of parchment.

 "They're comin'...." 

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Amelia whipped around. A group of men was walking down the distant castle steps. In front was Albus Dumbledore, his silver beard gleaming in the dying sun. Next to him trotted Cornelius Fudge. Behind them came the feeble old Committee member and the executioner, Macnair. 

"Yeh gotta go," said Hagrid. Every inch of him was trembling. "They mustn' find yeh here.... Go now..." 

Ron stuffed Scabbers into his pocket and Hermione picked up the cloak. "I'll let yeh out the back way," said Hagrid.

 They followed him to the door into his back garden. Harry felt strangely unreal, and even more so when he saw Buckbeak a few yards away, tethered to a tree behind Hagrid's Pumpkin patch. Buckbeak seemed to know something was happening. He turned his sharp head from side to side and pawed the ground nervously.

 "It's okay, Beaky," said Hagrid softly. "It's okay..." He turned to Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Amelia. "Go on," he said. 

"Get goin'." 

But they didn't move. 

"Hagrid, we can't --"

 "We'll tell them what really happened --" 

"Mouse--"

"They can't kill him --"