starlit supernova
❛ ii. the grim hippogriff ❜

━━━━━ WITH A FROWN, Nova took her timetable from Hannah. She really hated how her roommates made her get up so early when they had two whole hours for breakfast. She turned her timetable over in her hands, reading the top to make sure she had hers and not another Hufflepuff's. It had happened once — during her second year, Nova thought she was going to her own class when suddenly, her classmates had turned into sixteen-year-old giants.

               "No need to look so dreary, Nova," chided Hannah, grabbing the jar of blueberry jam passing by.

               The black-haired girl rubbed her eyes, dragging her hands down the length of her face. Nova was not a morning person, and after yesterday's ... mishap, she would've rather do anything than get out of bed and face Hogwarts. Physically, she felt fine; however, there was still that sharp jabbing at the back of her head, where she had knocked her head against the suitcase. And she felt like she kept seeing a shaggy black dog from the corner of her vision.

               "Easy for you to say," she responded, brushing her bangs down. "You're alarm clock wasn't someone trying to suffocate you with a pillow."

               Susan Bones, one of Nova's roommates, rolled her eyes. "I hit you once, 'cause you were refusing to get up."

               "I don't know why you're surprised," snickered Hannah. "Nova's always been like that."

               "We're not," Megan Jones assured. "We know how Nova's is."

               "Oh, great," she grumbled. "I love waking up for the first day of class and having everyone attack my character." She grabbed the stack of bacon passing by and grabbed a couple of pieces. "You all suck, by the way."

               Justin and Ernie sat down next to the four Hufflepuff girls. Ernie nodded his head towards the Slytherin table. "They've been at it ever since they learned people've passed out from the dementors."

               Nova looked over to the Slytherin table, finding Draco Malfoy, who seemed to be entertaining a large group of Slytherins with a very funny story. As she watched, Malfoy made a ridiculous impression of a swooning fit and there was a roar of laughter from the people around him.

               Her lip curled in anger. She liked some of the Slytherins she came across — not many, she'll admit — but a lot of them that she ran into seemed to look down on anyone who wasn't in the Slytherin House. When Nova was younger and newer to the wizarding world, she first thought they just had House pride, but now that she knew better — she realized it was a lot more than just House pride for some of them. They were put in the Slytherin House to continue on the "legacies" of their "noble" names, but they had no Slytherin qualities about them — they just had shitty qualities about them.

               Nova looked over once more, in time to see Malfoy pretending to faint with terror again. She rolled her eyes and turned back to the Hufflepuff table.

               "Cedric said Malfoy wasn't so cocky last night," Justin spoke up. "Said when the dementors got to their end of the train, Malfoy came running into his compartment."

               Ernie snorted. "Malfoy would deny that until the day he died."

               Hannah looked away from the Slytherin table, shaking her head. She didn't say anything about them, instead changing the topic to class schedules and what everyone was taking for the year.

               Ernie grabbed his timetable from the girl. "I'm taking three extra classes this year. Muggle Studies, Study —"

               Nova furled her nose. "Three? Why the hell would you do that?"

               "'Cause they sounded interesting, Nova," said Ernie, rolling his eyes. "Unlike you, I can pay attention in class."

               The girl threw the blond an offended look. "I can pay attention, too! Just not History of Magic, though ..."

               "I wish we could drop History of Magic," Justin sighed, swirling his spoon through a bowl of oatmeal. "Binns somehow makes rebellions boring. I mean — who can do that?"

               "I'm taking Care of Magical Creatures and Divination," Nova said.

               "Oo!" Hannah perked up, reaching for Nova's timetable. "When do you have Care of Magical Creatures? We may have it together, we can walk down there together."

               "I have it after lunch," said Nova. "What else do you have?"

               "I got Arithmancy," Hannah said. "But I didn't take Divination, but we walk to Care of Magical Creatures together!"

               "Great!" Nova grinned.

✴

Nova was leaving the Great Hall when Neville Longbottom came up to her.

               "Do you know where the North Tower is?" he asked her.

               "You got Divination, too?" she responded.

               The boy nodded. "And so does Harry, Hermione, and Ron."

               Nova internally winced at the first name. Harry Potter had never done anything to her personally, but there was still a sour taste left in her mouth when he came up. After thirteen years of seeing him in a stupid, repetitive dream, you too would grow to resent his stupidly pretty face. (Mind you, Nova would never say that to anyone — the dreams, not that Harry Potter had a stupidly pretty face of course.)

               It felt like she knew more about him with barely two conversations than she knew about her own birth mother. The thing was, Nova wanted to know about her birth mother, not the "Savior of the Wizarding World." However, if she told anyone about that, they would just tell her that knowing Harry wasn't some huge feat considering everyone knew who Harry Potter was. He had defeated Voldemort more than once now. (Nova had also seen that in her dreams. If she cared to know, she might tell her dreams thanks for the information.)

               "I'm not exactly sure where it is," admitted the Hufflepuff. "I should've asked Cedric before he left for classes."

               She and Neville had become friends after a lesson in Herbology where Professor Sprout put them together their first year. Nova had been trying since then to get the boy to come out of his shell — a mission she was still having trouble accomplishing.

               The journey to the North Tower was long, and Nova could feel the third pancake she had eaten in two bites (a dare by Ernie) weighing her down. She should've listened to Hannah and not eaten it. Nova had been at Hogwarts for two years, and that wasn't nearly enough time to know the layout of the castle. She and Neville stumbled upon Hermione, Ron, and Harry after climbing up their seventh staircase in a row. The three were peering down the empty passages to their right and left.

               Nova placed her hand at her side, feeling the sharp jab of pain there. "You guys lost, too? Neville said you have Divination with us."

               Ron jumped at her sudden appearance but nodded. "Er — yeah. We don't whether it's right or left."

               "I think it's this way," said Hermione, peering down the empty passage to the right.

               "Can't be." Ron shook his head. "That's south, look, you can see a bit of the lake out of the window."

               Nova looked at the painting in front of them. A fat, dapple-grey pony had ambled onto the grass and was grazing nonchalantly. It was normal for the subjects of Hogwarts paintings to move, or even leave, their frames to visit one another, but it was still a marvel to see. A moment later, a short, squat knight in a suit of armor clanked into the picture after his pony. By the look of the grass stains on his metal knees, he had just fallen off.

               "Aha!" he yelled, seeing the Hogwarts students before him. "What villains are these, that trespass upon my private lands! Come to scorn at my fall, perchance? Draw, you knaves, you dogs!"

               They watched in astonishment as the little knight tugged his sword out of its scabbard and began brandishing it violently, hopping up and down in rage. But the sword was too long for him; a particularly wild swing made him overbalance, and he landed facedown in the grass.

               "Are you all right?" said Harry, moving closer to the picture.

               "Get back, you scurvy braggart! Back, you rogue!"

               The knight seized his sword again and used it to push himself back up, but the blade sank deeply into the grass and, though he pulled with all his might, he couldn't get it out again. Finally, he had to flop back down onto the grass and push up his visor to mop his sweating face. Nova smothered a grin at the stupidity of the man in the painting.

               "Listen," said Harry, taking advantage of the knight's exhaustion, "we're looking for the North Tower. You don't know the way, do you?"

               "A quest!" The knight's rage seemed to vanish instantly. He clanked to his feet and shouted, "Come follow me, dear friends, and we shall find our goal, or else shall perish bravely in the charge!"

               He gave the sword another fruitless tug, tried and failed to mount the fat pony, gave up, and cried, "On foot then, good sirs and gentle lady! On! On!" And then he ran, clanking loudly, into the left side of the frame and out of sight.

               The five hurried after him along the corridor, following the sound of his armor. Now and then, they spotted him running through a picture ahead.

               "Be of stout heart, the worst is yet to come!" yelled the knight, and they saw him reappear in front of an alarmed group of women in crinolines, whose picture hung on the wall of a narrow spiral staircase.

               Huffing and heavily out of breath, Nova was the first to climb the tightly spiraled steps. The further she went, the dizzier she got. At last, she heard the murmur of voices above her and knew she had finally reached the classroom.

               "Farewell!" cried the knight, popping his head into a painting of some sinister-looking monks. "Farewell, my comrades-in-arms! If ever you have need of noble heart and steely sinew, call upon Sir Cadogan!"

               Nova gave him a mock salute, which Sir Cadogan seemed to be pleased with. He gave her a nod of solitude and chased after his fat dapple-grey pony, which seemed much too tired to carry him around any longer.

               "Yeah, we'll call you," muttered Ron as the knight disappeared, "if we ever need someone mental."

               The five climbed the last few steps and emerged onto a tiny landing, where most of the class was already assembled. There were no doors off this landing, but Nova noticed the ceiling, where there was a circular trapdoor with a brass plaque on it.

               "'Sibyll Trelawney, Divination teacher,"' Harry read. "How're we supposed to get up there?"

               As though in answer to his question, the trapdoor suddenly opened, and a silvery ladder descended right at Nova's feet. Everyone got quiet. The girl glanced at the Gryffindor boy behind her.

               "After you," she suggested, motioning to the ladder. "You summoned it."

               And so, Harry climbed the ladder first. Then Ron, then Hermione, and then Nova climbed after them. The Hufflepuff emerged into the strangest-looking classroom she had ever seen. It didn't look like a classroom at all, more like a cross between someone's attic and an old-fashioned tea shop. At least twenty small, circular tables were crammed inside it, all surrounded by chintz armchairs and fat little poufs. Everything was lit with a dim, crimson light; the curtains at the windows were all closed, and the many lamps were draped with dark red scarves.

               It was stiflingly warm inside, and the fire that was burning under the crowded mantelpiece was giving off a heavy, sickly sort of perfume as it heated a large copper kettle. Nova was reduced to tugging at the yellow and black tie at the base of her neck. The shelves running around the circular walls were crammed with dusty-looking feathers, stubs of candles, many packs of tattered playing cards, countless silvery crystal balls, and a huge array of teacups.

               "Where is she?" Ron said, peering around.

               A voice came suddenly out of the shadows, a soft, misty sort of voice. "Welcome," the voice greeted them. "How nice to see you in the physical world at last."

               Nova eyed the spot where the voice had come from. She was in between laughing at the absurdity or fleeing from the absurdity. Professor Trelawney moved into the firelight, and they saw that she was very thin; her large glasses magnified her eyes to several times their natural size, and she was draped in a gauzy spangled shawl. Innumerable chains and beads hung around her spindly neck, and her arms and hands were encrusted with bangles and rings. The professor looked like a rather comical bug drawn to human form.

               "Sit, my children, sit," she said, and they all climbed awkwardly into armchairs or sank onto poufs.

               Nova found herself sitting with Neville and (rather unfortunately) Emile Hawkins, a third-year Ravenclaw. Neville was watching Professor Trelawney nervously, looking as if he was afraid she would burst into a swarm of bees and buzz around his head for the entirety of class. Emile had his brown eyes narrowed as he watched the woman bustle around, he didn't look enthralled but didn't look as if he hated it either.

               Nova needed to figure out what to make of it all. Professor Trelawney seemed to be taking a rather obvious act of I am simply above all you meer, blind mortals for I was blessed with the gift of Seeing. If that act continued, the Hufflepuff was sure she was going to hate the class.

               "Welcome to Divination," said Professor Trelawney, who had seated herself in a winged armchair in front of the fire. "My name is Professor Trelawney. You may not have seen me before. I find that descending too often into the hustle and bustle of the main school clouds my Inner Eye."

               Nobody said anything to this extraordinary pronouncement. Professor Trelawney delicately rearranged her shawl and continued, "So you have chosen to study Divination, the most difficult of all magical arts. I must warn you at the outset that if you do not have the Sight, there is very little I will be able to teach you. Books can take you only so far in this field ..."

               At these words, Nova glanced at Emile, who often relied on books to prove his intelligence. The black-haired boy looked startled at the news. Nova had to wonder what she ever thought was attractive about the Ravenclaw.

               "Many witches and wizards, talented though they are in the area of loud bangs and smells and sudden disappearings, are yet unable to penetrate the veiled mysteries of the future," Professor Trelawney went on, her enormous, gleaming eyes moving from face to nervous face. "It is a Gift granted to few. You, boy," she said suddenly to Neville, who almost toppled off his pouf. "Is your grandmother well?"

               "I — I think so," said Neville tremulously.

               "I wouldn't be so sure if I were you, dear," said Professor Trelawney, the firelight glinting on her long emerald earrings.

               Neville gulped loudly, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. Nova frowned, wondering if that was all Professor Trelawney's goal; to scare the students more than teach.

               The professor continued placidly; "We will be covering the basic methods of Divination this year. The first term will be devoted to reading the tea leaves. Next term we shall progress to palmistry. By the way, my dear," she shot suddenly at Parvati Patil, "beware a red-haired man."

               Parvati gave a startled look at Ron, who was right behind her, and edged her chair away from him.

               "In the second term," Professor Trelawney went on, "we shall progress to the crystal ball-if we have finished with fire omens, that is. Unfortunately, classes will be disrupted in February by a nasty bout of flu. I myself will lose my voice. And around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever."

               A very tense silence followed this pronouncement, but Professor Trelawney seemed unaware of it. Nova's jaw dropped. There was no way this woman really just predicted that one of the students would die.

               "I wonder, dear," the professor said to Lavender Brown, who was nearest and shrank back in her chair, "if you could pass me the largest silver teapot?"

               Lavender, looking relieved, stood up, took an enormous teapot from the shelf, and put it down on the table in front of Professor Trelawney.

               "Thank you, my dear. Incidentally, that thing you are dreading — it will happen on Friday the sixteenth of October."

               Lavender started to tremble.

               "Oh, my —" Professor Trelaweny gasped dramatically, grabbing Nova by the arm and examining her face. "You, my dear, are troubled indeed! Your mind is muddled by all sorts of things. You see too much, yet too little. My child — do you realize what sort of Gifts were bestowed upon you?"

               Nova's eyes widened, out of shock and embarrassment at being called out in front of the whole class. As she tried prying the woman's fingers off her arm, she struggled to say; "I'm a witch, is that what you're referring to?"

               Professor Trelawney's cold fingers went slack suddenly, and Nova tore her arm away soon after. The woman tutted and started to shake her head as if the young girl was only fooling herself. "You will see, my child," she said ominously and strode away.

               "Now, I want you all to divide into pairs. Collect a teacup from the shelf, come to me, and I will fill it. Then sit down and drink, drink until only the dregs remain. Swill these around the cup three times with the left hand, then turn the cup upside down on its saucer, wait for the last of the tea to drain away, then give your cup to your partner to read. You will interpret the patterns using pages five and six of Unfogging the Future. I shall move among you, helping and instructing. Oh, and dear" — she caught Neville by the arm as he made to stand up — "after you've broken your first cup, would you be so kind as to select one of the blue patterned ones? I'm rather attached to the pink."

               Sure enough, Neville had no sooner reached the shelf of teacups when there was a tinkle of breaking china. Professor Trelawney swept over to him holding a dustpan and brush and said, "One of the blue ones, then, dear, if you wouldn't mind ... thank you ..."

               "She's ..." Emile trailed off, watching the woman.

               Nova, still rubbing the spot where Trelawney grabbed her, said, "Off her rocker. I want whatever she's got."

               Emile snorted and went to get a cup, Nova trailing after him. When the three of them filled their teacups, they returned to their table and tried to gulp the scalding tea down. Nova swilled the dregs around as Professor Trelawney had instructed, then drained the cups and swapped cups. Neville got Nova's cup, she got Emile's cup, and Neville got Emile's.

               Nova grabbed Emile's cup unhappily, opening up the book and turning to pages five and six. She squinted at the glass, referring back to the book every so often.

               "Well," said Emile. "What does mine read?"

               "I'm getting there. Give me a minute ..." she grumbled. "It's a load of nothing. All it looks like to me is a pile of dung —" Emile kicked her in the shin as Professor Trelawney shuffled past, looking like a more colorful dementor stalking the room.

               "Well, Neville?" Emile asked. "You got anything?"

               "A load of soggy bits," answered Neville. "Erm ... I think this looks like a sun ... the book says that means that's a symbol of great happiness."

               Nova looked over curiously. She looked at what Neville was pointing and said dryly, "That's just a circle — a lopsided one, at that."

               The Gryffindor blushed. "I guess it does look like that."

               "You see anything, Emile?" Nova asked.

               The boy shrugged. "I think I see a cross, so — sorry to tell you this, mate, but I think you're gonna have some trials and sufferings."

               Neville's flushed expression paled. He busied himself by looking back into Nova's cup.

               "Broaden your minds, my dears, and allow your eyes to see past the mundane!" Professor Trelawney cried through the gloom. Nova curled her nose, the smell of the room was hazing her mind more than anything else.

               "Wait, Nova," Neville said. "This bit right here — You see it?" he asked, leaning over for her to see. "What does that look like to you?"

               "Again, a pile of dung," Nova insisted. She shrugged. "I can't really see anything with this stuff."

               Neville sat back in his seat, frowning to himself. He went down the page, looking back to his cup every so often. Emile leaned over to Nova and looked at his cup.

               "You really don't see anything?" he asked her.

               Nova shrugged and looked back at Unfogging the Future. "I guess I kinda see an acorn ..."

               "Well, what does that mean?" Emile prompted.

               "Um — 'windfall, unexpected gold,'" Nova read off. "Merlin, mind lending me some? I could use some gold."

               Emile grinned and a small dimple appeared on the right cheek of his dark skin. Maybe Nova was starting to remember why she thought the boy was cute. "Depends on how much it is," he told her.

               Nova looked back at the cup, turning it slightly. "Oh, well now it kinda looks like a skull."

               "The book says that means 'danger in your path,'" Emile said. He only rolled his eyes. "You should've just stopped with the acorn, Holloway."

               Nova gave him a cheeky smile. "What can I —"

               "— Let me see that, my dear," Professor Trelawney's voice cut through the heavy air in the room. Everyone in the room went quiet to watch as she swept across the room and grabbed the cup out of Ron's hands.

               Professor Trelawney was staring into the teacup, rotating it counterclockwise. "The falcon ... my dear, you have a deadly enemy."

               "But everyone already knows that," said Hermione in a loud whisper.

               Professor Trelawney stared at her.

               "Well — they do," insisted Hermione. "Everybody knows about Harry and You-Know-Who."

               Nova had never heard Hermione speak to a teacher like that before. Professor Trelawney chose not to reply. She lowered her huge eyes to Harry's cup again and continued to turn it. "The club ... an attack," the professor said. "Dear, dear, this is not a happy cup ..."

               "I thought that was a bowler hat," said Ron sheepishly.

               Professor Trelawney only ignored him. "The skull ... danger in your path, my dear ..."

               Everyone was staring, transfixed, at Professor Trelawney, who gave the cup a final turn, gasped, and then screamed. There was another tinkle of breaking china; Neville had smashed another cup. He had broken Nova's cup.

               Professor Trelawney sank into a vacant armchair, her glittering hand at her heart and her eyes closed. "My dear boy ... my poor, dear boy no it is kinder not to say ... no ... don't ask me ..."

               "What is it, Professor?" said Dean Thomas at once, leaning forward in his pouf.

               Everyone (including Nova, she was nosey at heart, okay?) had got to their feet, and slowly they crowded around Harry, Hermione, and Ron's table, pressing close to Professor Trelawney's chair to get a good look at Harry's cup.

               "My dear," Professor Trelawney's huge eyes opened dramatically, "you have the Grim."

               "The what?" Harry asked at once.

               "The Grim, my dear, the Grim!" cried Professor Trelawney, who looked shocked that Harry hadn't understood. "The giant, spectral dog that haunts churchyards! My dear boy, it is an omen — the worst omen — of death!"

               Nova felt a bit sick. Maybe that third pancake was doing her in. She got a glimpse at Harry's cup and blurted, "It's a dog."

               She hadn't meant to say it aloud. The professor stared at her, as did the rest of the class. "I'm sorry, my dear — what?"

               "It's a dog," Nova repeated, realizing there was no way to feign ignorance to who said it. "I saw it in the cup. It's just a dog."

               "It is not simply 'just a dog'," Professor Trelawney said, sounding aghast. "Did you not read your book? The Grim is an omen of death!"

               Hermione, who had gotten up and moved around to the back of Professor Trelawney's chair, scoffed and said, "I don't think it looks like a Grim."

               Professor Trelawney surveyed the girl with mounting dislike. "You'll forgive me for saying so, my dear, but I perceive very little aura around you. Very little receptivity to the resonances of the future."

               Seamus Finnigan was tilting his head from side to side. "It looks like a Grim if you do this," he said, with his eyes almost shut, "but it looks more like a donkey from here," he said, leaning to the left.

               "When you've all finished deciding whether I'm going to die or not!" said Harry, looking as if he had even taken himself by surprise.

               "I think we will leave the lesson here for today," said Professor Trelawney in her mistiest voice. "Yes ... please pack away your things ..."

               Silently the class took their teacups back to Professor Trelawney, packed away their books, and closed their bags.

               "Until we meet again," said Professor Trelawney faintly, "fair fortune be yours. Oh, and dear" — she pointed at Neville — "you'll be late next time, so mind you work extra hard to catch up."

               Nova stuffed her book back into her bag, glancing over her shoulder at the teacup Professor Trelawney had left there. Just over the rim of the cup, she could see what was supposedly the "Grim" peering at her. If she looked hard enough, she could see the pointed ears and its long nose. She thought back to the weird vision she had — it was like it flashed across her eyesight. It was like she could see that night sky all over again. It was like she could hear the screams and howls, too.

               "My dear? Your aura — it's more trouble than before." Professor Trelawney's voice called. "Are you well? Do you feel feverish?"

               "I'm fine," Nova promised, her voice strangely quiet. "Really. I just need to get to my next class."

               She could see Neville hanging back at the trap door like he was waiting for her. The Hufflepuff headed for the boy but Trelawney called again, "I am always free after lunch, dear. You should talk to me one-on-one — to clear your head."

               "Uh, thanks. But no thanks," Nova said, turning her back to the teacher. "My head's very clear." She descended the classroom with Neville, who stopped her from leaving.

               "Um, Nova?" he called. "I think you should know that I saw the Grim in your cup, too."

               "Oh, real funny, Neville," the girl snapped. "But I thought pulling cruel jokes was the Weasley twins' thing."

               "It's not a prank," Neville insisted. "When you were talking to Emile about that wonky cross, I saw it in your cup. At first, I wasn't sure, but when Professor Trelawney said she was one in Harry's ..."

               The boy trailed off at the irritated look on Nova's face. If he looked long enough, he could see her left eye twitching. She licked her lips and sighed heavily as if looking for any kind words. "Trelawney seems to be saying a bunch of stuff in hopes that at least one thing comes true," she told him. "I wouldn't too much thought into the whole Grim thing, Neville. I think she just freaked you out."

               Neville watched her nervously. "Yeah, maybe you're right," he agreed placidly, letting her make her way toward her next class.

✴

When Transfiguration class ended, the three Gryffindors joined the crowd thundering toward the Great Hall for lunch.

               "Ron, cheer up," said Hermione, pushing a dish of stew toward him. "You heard what Professor McGonagall said."

               Ron spooned stew onto his plate and picked up his fork but didn't start eating. "Harry," he said, in a low, serious voice, "You haven't seen a great black dog anywhere, have you?"

               "Yeah, I have," admitted Harry. "I saw one the night I left the Dursleys."

               Ron let his fork fall with a clatter. People glanced over at them.

               "Probably a stray," said Hermione calmly.

               Ron looked at Hermione as though she had gone mad. "Hermione, if Harry's seen a Grim, that's — that's bad," he said. "My — my uncle Bilius saw one and — and he died twenty-four hours later!"

               "Coincidence," she replied airily, pouring herself some pumpkin juice.

               "You don't know what you're talking about!" said Ron, starting to get angry. "Grims scare the living daylights out of most wizards!"

               "There you are, then," said Hermione in a superior tone. "They see the Grim and die of fright. The Grim's not an omen, it's the cause of death! And Harry's still with us because he's not stupid enough to see one and think, Right, well, I'd better kick the bucket then!"

               Ron mouthed wordlessly at Hermione, who opened her bag, took out her new Arithmancy book, and propped it open against the juice jug. "I think Divination seems very wooly," she said, searching for her page. "A lot of guesswork, if you ask me."

               "There was nothing wooly about the Grim in that cup!" said Ron hotly.

               "You didn't seem quite so confident when you were telling Harry it was a sheep," said Hermione coolly.

               There was a thunderous sound as a flood of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws entered the Great Hall. They all seemed happy to be back at school, laughing and jeering with their friends. He caught sight of Nova, who was practically a blur of yellow she was heading for the Hufflepuff table so quickly, as she snagged a seat next to the plump boy named Ernie Macmillan. He saw a couple of Nova's friends trailing after her, cheerily talking about something. Nova said something to Ernie (Harry noticed how she used her hands a lot when she talked), and Ernie rolled her eyes and shoved her shoulder.

               He had noticed it the year before, but Nova seemed to avoid him like he was the bad omen instead of the Grim. With what was happening his second year, Harry chalked it up to Nova being nervous about him being the Heir to Slytherin. But still, she gave him an odd sort of look, like he had done something to her personally. As far as Harry was aware, he had never done anything to step on her toes (not intentionally, at least).

               "Mate?" Ron said, leaning closer to his friend. "What's wrong?"

               "Nova passed out 'cause of the dementors, right?" Harry asked, taking a bite of food.

               "That girl with the bangs? The Hufflepuff?" asked Ron. "Yeah, Ernie said she did. So what?"

               Harry gave his friend an irritated look. "We haven't heard of anyone else passing out, have we? Have you?"

               "Ernie said she hit her head," Hermione said. "I've been meaning to ask if she's alright." She said that last part more to herself rather than the two boys sitting with her.

               "She talked about that Grim thing," Harry prompted.

               Hermione groaned. "We're not talking about this again! She said it herself; she saw that Grim in your cup! Just like Nova said; It's just a dog. Besides, I hardly can understand how dogs can be an omen of death."

               Ron rolled his eyes. "Not everything has to make sense, Hermione. You're just upset Professor Trelawney said you don't have the right aura for her class! You just don't like being bad at something for a change!"

               The boy had touched a nerve. Hermione slammed her Arithmancy book down on the table so hard that bits of meat and carrot flew everywhere. "If being good at Divination means I have to pretend to see death omens in a lump of tea leaves, I'm not sure I'll be studying it much longer! That lesson was absolute rubbish compared with my Arithmancy class!"

               She snatched up her bag and stalked away. Ron frowned after her.

               "What's she talking about?" he said to Harry. "She hasn't been to an Arithmancy class yet."

               Harry shrugged, taking a bite of his food. He glanced at the back of Nova's head for a second time, unable to shake the feeling that she knew more than she was letting on.

✴

Nova was pleased to get out of the castle after lunch. Yesterday's rain had cleared; the sky was a clear, pale grey, and the grass was lively and damp underfoot as she, Justin, and Hannah set off for their first-ever Care of Magical Creatures class.

               The Hufflepuffs who had taken the class — she, Hannah, and Justin — went down the sloping lawns to Hagrid's hut on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, talking excitedly about the upcoming lesson.

               Nova remembered the summer before her first year at Hogwarts her parents had taken her to Diagon Alley, to see just exactly what they were getting themselves into. While exploring every store there, the young girl found a book about magical creatures, a book that would spark her fascination with them. Over time, that spark had changed from a fascination to a wish to work with them as an adult.

               The three had been one of the earlier students to arrive, watching as other third-years from all Houses made the trek down the hill. Hagrid was waiting for them at the door of his hut. He stood in a moleskin overcoat, with Fang (his pet boar-hound) at his heels, looking impatient to start.

               "C'mon, now, get a move on!" he called as the class approached. "Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin' up! Everyone here? Right, follow me!"

               For one nasty moment, Nova thought that Hagrid was going to lead them into the Forbidden Forest. However, Hagrid strolled off around the edge of the trees, and five minutes later, they found themselves outside a kind of paddock. There was nothing in there.

               "Everyone gather 'round the fence here!" he called. "That's it — make sure yeh can see - now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books -"

               "How?" said the cold, drawling voice of Draco Malfoy.

               "Eh?" said Hagrid, stopping and turning to look at the Slytherin.

               "How do we open our books?" Malfoy repeated. He took out his copy of The Monster Book of Monsters, which he had bound shut with a length of rope.

               Other people took theirs out too; some, like Nova, had belted their books shut; others had crammed them inside tight bags or clamped them together with binder clips.

               "Hasn' — hasn' anyone bin able ter open their books?" said Hagrid, looking crestfallen.

               The class all shook their heads.

               "Yeh've got ter stroke 'em," said Hagrid, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world. "Look -"

               He took Hermione's copy and ripped off the Spellotape that bound it. The book tried to bite, but Hagrid ran a giant forefinger down its spine, and the book shivered, and then fell open and lay quiet in his hand.

               "Oh, how silly we've all been!" Malfoy sneered. "We should have stroked them! Why didn't we guess!"

               "I — I thought they were funny," Hagrid said uncertainly to Hermione.

               "Oh, tremendously funny!" said Malfoy. "Really witty, giving us books that try and rip our hands off!"

               "Shut up, Malfoy," said Harry quietly.

               "Righ' then," said Hagrid, who seemed to have lost his thread, "so — so yeh've got yer books an' — an' — now yeh need the Magical Creatures. Yeah. So I'll go an' get 'em. Hang on ..."

               He strode away from them into the forest and out of sight.

               "God, this place is going to the dogs," said Malfoy loudly. "That oaf teaching classes, my father'll have a fit when I tell him."

               "Shut up, Malfoy," Harry repeated.

               "Careful, Potter, there's a dementor behind you."

               "Oo!" squealed Lavender Brown, pointing toward the opposite side of the paddock.

               Trotting toward them were a dozen of the most bizarre-looking creatures Nova had ever seen. Although she was proud to say she knew their names as hippogriffs.

               They had the bodies, hind legs, and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings, and heads of what seemed to be giant eagles, with cruel, steel-colored beaks and large, brilliantly, orange eyes. The talons on their front legs were half a foot long and deadly-looking. Each of the beasts had a thick leather collar around its neck, which was attached to a long chain, and the ends of all of these were held in the vast hands of Hagrid, who came jogging into the paddock behind the creatures.

               "Gee up, there!" he roared, shaking the chains and urging the creatures toward the fence where the class stood. Everyone drew back slightly as Hagrid reached them and tethered the creatures to the fence.

               "Hippogriffs!" Hagrid roared happily, waving a hand at them. "Beau'iful, aren' they?"

               Nova grinned. Once you got over the first shock of seeing something that was half horse, half bird, you started to appreciate the hippogriffs' gleaming coats, changing smoothly from feather to hair, each of them a different color: stormy grey, bronze, pinkish roan, gleaming chestnut, and inky black.

               "So," said Hagrid, rubbing his hands together and beaming around, "if yeh wan' ter come a bit nearer —"

               "Oo!" Nova stood up straighter, trying to see over the heads of her classmates. "Let's get closer!" she said, tugging on Justin's sleeve.

               The blond watched the animals hesitantly. "Let's not."

               Nova didn't listen and pulled Justin and Hannah forward regardless.

               "Now, firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' hippogriffs is, they're proud," said Hagrid. "Easily offended, hippogriffs are. Don't ever insult one, 'cause it might be the last thing yeh do."

               Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle weren't listening; they were talking in an undertone and Nova had a nasty feeling they were plotting how best to disrupt the lesson. Despite the bad feeling, she tried her best to pay attention to Hagrid.

               "Yeh always wait fer the hippogriff ter make the firs' move," the teacher continued. "It's polite, see? Yeh walk toward him, and yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. If he doesn' bow, then get away from him sharpish, 'cause those talons hurt. Right — who wants ter go first?"

               Most of the class backed farther away in answer. However, Nova shot her hand up into the air, nearly nicking the tip of Justin's nose.

               "Brilliant, Nova!" Hagrid roared happily. "Right, then — let's see how yeh get on with Buckbeak."

               Nova climbed over the paddock fence. Hagrid untied one of the chains, pulled the grey hippogriff away from its fellows, and slipped off its leather collar. The class on the other side of the paddock seemed to be holding its breath.

               "Easy now, Nova," said Hagrid quietly. "Yeh've got eye contact, now try not ter blink ... Hippogriffs don' trust yeh if yeh blink too much ..."

               Nova kept her eyes fixed on the hippogriff. Buckbeak had turned his great, sharp head and was staring at her with one fierce, orange eye.

               "Tha's it," said Hagrid. "Tha's it, Nova ... now, bow."

               Nervously, Nova bowed slightly before looking up.

               The hippogriff was still staring haughtily at her. It didn't move.

               "Ah," said Hagrid, sounding worried. "Right — back away, now, Nova, easy does it."

               But then, to Nova's enormous surprise, the hippogriff suddenly bent its scaly front knees and sank into what was an unmistakable bow.

               "Well done, Nova!" said the teacher, ecstatic. He patted the Hufflepuff on the back, and Nova felt as if he was trying to knock one of her ribs loose. "Right — yeh can touch him! Pat his beak, go on!"

               Feeling giddy, Nova moved slowly toward the hippogriff and reached out toward it. She patted the beak several times and the hippogriff closed its eyes lazily, as though enjoying it. The class broke into applause, but Nova kept her eyes trained on Buckbeak.

               "Righ' then, Nova," said Hagrid. "I reckon he might' let yeh ride him!"

               The girl's eyes widened. "Er — Hagrid? I'm not so sure about that ..."

               "He's not gonna hurt yeh. Yeh climb up there, jus' behind the wing joint," said Hagrid, "an' mind yeh don' pull any of his feathers out, he won' like that ..."

               Feeling as if she had no other choice, Nova put her foot on the top of Buckbeak's wing and hoisted herself onto its back. Buckbeak stood up suddenly. Feeling a little more than foolish, she clung to his neck.

               "Go on, then," roared Hagrid, slapping the hippogriff's hindquarters.

               Without warning, twelve-foot wings flapped open on either side of Nova, and in no time, she was soaring upward. It was nothing like a broomstick (which Nova had only ever flown on once before; her first year during flying class), but yet, she knew which one she preferred. Luckily, Nova wasn't exactly afraid of heights, but the hippogriff's wings beat uncomfortably on either side of her, catching her under her legs and making her feel she was about to be thrown off. The glossy feathers slipped under her fingers and she didn't dare get a stronger grip, heeding Hagrid's warning.

               Despite feeling as if she was slowly sliding off, Nova grinned with excitement. They were twenty minutes into her first lesson of Care of Magical Creatures and she could already say she had ridden on the back of a hippogriff. Her parents would hate to read her letter, but Nova was still going to write it to them anyway.

               Buckbeak flew her once around the paddock and then headed back to the ground. She felt a heavy thud as the four ill-assorted feet hit the ground. She just managed to hold on and push herself straight again.

               "Good work, Nova!" roared Hagrid as everyone except Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle cheered. "Okay, who else wants a go?"

✴

Let Nova be the first to say — Draco Malfoy was the biggest prick to ever walk to corridors of Hogwarts. If he had just listened to her, he would've been fine. But no, since she was a half-blood, that must mean she knew less than him about magical stuff. (Which totally wasn't the case!)

               Since Malfoy had the inability to get his head out of his ass, he insulted Buckbeak, who acted in retaliation. The Slytherin totally ruined Hagrid's lesson and after seeing the professor not show up for dinner, Nova felt even worse.

               She wanted to go tell Hagrid herself that the lesson was going perfectly and that it wasn't his fault but Ernie and Hannah shut down that idea immediately.

               "There's no way you're walking the grounds at night." Ernie shook his head as if the idea was so foolish to him that he had to shake it away. "Just tell him the next time you have class."

               "But ..." Nova stopped short, stabbing her steak with her fork. She sighed. "You guys never seemed to care about walking the grounds at night before, what gives?"

               Hannah shared a nervous look with Ernie. "There's stuff in the Daily Prophet. Stuff about Sirius Black escaping Azkaban."

               Nova was so shocked she almost forgot about Hagrid and Buckbeak. "Escaping Azkaban?" she repeated. "How?"

               Ernie shrugged. "No idea. No one really knows, either," he admitted. "But that's why they've got the dementors all around. I heard Sprouts and Flitwick talking about it earlier."

               Nova chewed on a piece of steak, racking her mind for everything she had heard about Sirius Black and Azkaban over the past two years in the wizarding world. Admittedly, it wasn't a lot - Sirius Black was this crazy mass-murdering wizard and Azkaban was this fortress made to keep wizards like him away from the public. But one thing she knew for sure, it was supposed to be impossible to escape from Azkaban's walls.

✴  MAY 13TH, 2024  /  this chapter didn't change too much but i did get to fix some of my spelling issues so that's good

anyways, opinions?? thoughts??

(not edited nor proofread)