THE next day, Celeste was in the second class of the day; Care of Magical Creatures with Hagrid. In Celeste's opinion, Hagrid was not someone who could teach. She wasn't trying to be rude in any way, but what would a big oaf like him know about teaching?

Okay. Maybe she was being rude.

But her friends definitely agreed.

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 in confusion.

"How do we open our books?" Draco repeated. He took out his copy of The Monster Book of Monsters, which he had bound shut with a lenght of rope. Other people took theirs out, too; some, like Celeste, had belted their book shut; others had crammed them inside tights bags or clamped them together with bullclips.

"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!" Draco 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!" continued Draco, sharing an unbelievable look with Celeste, both of them simultaneously rolling their eyes. "Really witty, giving us books that try and rip our hands off!"

"Shut up, Malfoy," said Harry quietly, Hagrid was looking downcast and Harry wanted Hagrid's first lesson to be a success.

"What did you say?" Draco said, taking a step forward towards the boy.

"I said—" Harry gritted his teeth and also took a step forward "—shut up, Malfoy."

"I'll shut you up, Potter." Celeste seethed, taking out her wand.

Draco stopped her by putting a hand on her arm, his glare never leaving Harry's face.

"Leave them alone, Harry." Hermione grabbed Harry's arm and made him turn around, shooting the two Slytherins a glare.

"Yes, listen to the mudblood, Potter." Draco smirked, earning multiple gasps from the Gryffindors.

Celeste elbowed him discreetly, shaking her head at him. She did not agree with the term whatsoever. Celeste did not care about blood status, but she was a pureblood. Somehow, Sirius had fallen in love with a pureblood sometime during his rebellion phase. It was ironic, really.

"Yer can't use that term, Malfoy!" Hagrid bellowed in disbelief. "Thirty points from Slytherin!"

"Oooooooh!" squealed Lavender Brown suddenly, pointing towards the opposite side of the paddock.

Trotting towards them were a dozen of the most bizarre creatures Celeste had ever seen. 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- coloured 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 towards 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. He forgot all about what Draco said. "Beau'iful, aren' they?"

Celeste could sort of see what Hagrid meant. Once you had 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 colour: stormy grey, bronze, a 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 ..."

No one seemed to want to. Harry, Ron and Hermione, however, approached the fence cautiously.

"Now, firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' Hippogriffs is they're proud," said Hagrid. "Easily offended, Hippogriffs are. Don't never insult one, 'cause it might be the last thing yeh do. Yeh always wait fer the Hippogriff ter make the firs' move," Hagrid continued. "It's polite, see? Yeh walk towards 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 further away in answer. Even Harry, Ron and Hermione had misgivings. The Hippogriffs were tossing their fierce heads and flexing their powerful wings; they didn't seem to like being tethered like this.

"No one?" said Hagrid, with a pleading look.

"I'll do it," said Harry. He climbed over the paddock fence.

"Good man, Harry!" roared Hagrid. "Right then – let's see how yeh get on with Buckbeak." He untied one of the chains, pulled the grey Hippogriff away from his fellows and slipped off his leather collar. The class on the other side of the paddock seemed to be holding its breath.

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

Harry's eyes immediately began to water, but he didn't shut them. Buckbeak had turned his great, sharp head, and was staring at Harry with one fierce orange eye.

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

Harry didn't feel much like exposing the back of his neck to Buckbeak, but he did as he was told. He gave a short bow and then looked up.

The Hippogriff was still staring haughtily at him. It didn't move.

"Ah," said Hagrid, sounding worried. "Right – back away, now, Harry, easy does it –"

But then, to Harry's enormous surprise, the Hippogriff suddenly bent his scaly front knees, and sank into what was an unmistakeable bow.

"Well done, Harry!" said Hagrid, ecstatic. "Right – yeh can touch him! Pat his beak, go on!"

Feeling that a better reward would have been to back away, Harry moved slowly towards the Hippogriff and reached out towards him. He patted the beak several times and the Hippogriff closed his eyes lazily, as though enjoying it.

The class broke into applause, all except for the Slytherins, who were all looking deeply disappointed.

"Righ' then, Harry," said Hagrid, "I reckon he migh' let yeh ride him!"

This was more than Harry had bargained for. He was used to a broomstick; but he wasn't sure a Hippogriff would be quite the same.

"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 ..."

Harry put his foot on the top of Buckbeak's wing and hoisted himself onto his back. Buckbeak stood up. Harry wasn't sure where to hold on; everything in front of him was covered in feathers.

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

Without warning, twelve-foot wings flapped open on either side of Harry; he just had time to seize the Hippogriff around the neck before he was soaring upwards. It was nothing like a broomstick, and Harry knew which one he preferred; the Hippogriff's wings were beating uncomfortably on either side of him, catching him under his legs and making him feel he was about to be thrown off; the glossy feathers slipped under his fingers and he didn't dare get a stronger grip; instead of the smooth action of his Nimbus Two Thousand, he now felt himself rocking backwards and forwards as the hindquarters of the Hippogriff rose and fell with his wings.

Buckbeak flew him once around the paddock and then headed back to the ground; this was the bit Harry had been dreading; he leant back as the smooth neck lowered, feeling he was going to slip off over the beak; then he felt a heavy thud as the four ill-assorted feet hit the ground, and just managed to hold on and push himself straight again.

"Good work, Harry!" roared Hagrid, as everyone except the Slytherins cheered. "OK, who else wants a go?"

Emboldened by Harry's success, the rest of the class climbed cautiously into the paddock. Hagrid untied the Hippogriffs one by one, and soon people were bowing nervously, all over the paddock. Neville Longbottom ran repeatedly backwards from his, which didn't seem to want to bend its knees. Ron and Hermione practised on the chestnut, while Harry watched.

Draco had taken over Buckbeak. He had bowed to Draco, who was now patting his beak, looking disdainful.

"This is very easy," Draco drawled, loud enough for Harry to hear him. "I knew it must have been, if Potter could do it ... I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you?" he said to the Hippogriff. "Are you, you ugly great brute?"

It happened in a flash of steely talons; Draco let out a high-pitched scream and next moment, Hagrid was wrestling Buckbeak back into his collar as he strained to get at Draco, who lay curled in the grass, blood blossoming over his robes.

Celeste ran over to the gate and rushed over to Draco, holding him immediately. "Oh Merlin!" She panicked.

"I'm dying!" Draco yelled, as the class panicked. "I'm dying, look at me! It's killed me!"

"Yer not dyin'!" said Hagrid, who had gone very white. "Someone help me – gotta get him outta here –"

Celeste helped Draco up and saw that there was a long, deep gash in his arm; blood splattered the grass and Hagrid ran with her, up the slope towards the castle.

"Are you alright?" Celeste asked in worry, her face as white as snow.

"My father's going to hear about this!" Draco seethed, wincing in pain as they climbed up the many stairs.

Hagrid was shaking with fear. "It was yer fault!"

"Shut your mouth, you big oaf." Celeste glared at the man as they finally reached the castle, rushing up the stairs towards the Hogwarts Infirmary.

Hagrid did not reply. He was merely helping Draco up the stairs and when they finally reached the infirmary minutes later, Draco was rushed to one of the empty beds by Madam Pomfrey.

"Oh, dear, what happened?" Madam Pomfrey rushed to get her supplies.

"I'm dying!" Draco wailed.

Celeste rolled her eyes at his dramatics. "Don't be dramatic, Draco. It's just a gash."

Madam Pomfrey dabbed some alcohol on the wound, ignoring his hiss of pain, and pointed her wand at it, muttering some spells.

The gash was almost healed completely immediately, but its scar still remained. The woman grabbed bandage and bandaged his arm, then gave him a sling to wear.

When she was done, Hagrid finally left, muttering to himself angrily.

Draco wore it and grinned. "How does it look, Les?"

"Like you just planned to get someone sacked," retorted Celeste, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow. "You plan to, don't you?"

"Of course," said Draco as if it was obvious. He raised his bandaged arm to show her, then drank the potion Madam Pomfrey gave him, grimacing at the taste.

When she left, Celeste sat down at the end of the bed and sighed. "I have to go and get back to my classes for the day. Will you be alright?"

"'Course," replied Draco with a smile. "Thanks for coming with me."

"Of course," said Celeste as she stood up and walked out of the infirmary. "I'll see you later."