The evening air was beginning to bite as Allen stepped out of the Great Hall, only to find three familiar silhouettes lingering by the oak front doors. Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked like they were holding a private council of war, their shadows stretching long and thin across the stone floor.
"Allen! Finally," Hermione said, her words tumbling out in a breathless rush. "We're heading down to Hagrid's. Something... well, something pretty disastrous happened today. You've heard the rumors, haven't you? Are you coming?"
"I've heard Malfoy's currently playing the martyr in the hospital wing," Allen replied calmly, adjusting the strap of his bag. "But rumors are like Exploding Snap cards; they rarely tell the whole story. I'm in."
As they stepped out onto the damp grass, Allen glanced sideways at Harry. "Wait, should Harry really be out here? The sun's down, and last I checked, the perimeter is crawling with Dementors."
Hermione's face tightened with agreement. "Harry, Allen's right. We can go and report back. After everything with the train, and with Black still out there—"
"I'm not a prisoner," Harry cut in, his voice sharper than usual. "The Dementors are at the gates, not on the front lawn. Besides, I need to see him. It's my fault as much as anyone's."
"If you're set on it," Allen said, checking his silver pocket watch. "But let's move. If we want a real conversation before curfew, we shouldn't dawdle."
They began the descent toward the Forbidden Forest, their boots squelching in the muddy turf. The peaceful silence of the evening was quickly shattered by the friction between the three Gryffindors.
"Ron, honestly, did you have to bait him?" Hermione snapped, her frustration boiling over. "You know exactly what Malfoy is like. You gave him the opening he wanted!"
"So I'm supposed to just stand there and let him call Hagrid a 'clumsy oaf'?" Ron shot back, his face turning a shade of red that matched his hair. "Hagrid isn't just a groundskeeper anymore, Hermione. He's a professor! He deserves a bit of respect, even from a snake like Malfoy!"
Harry nodded vigorously. "He was being a total git, Hermione. He spent the whole time mocking the textbook, even after the clerk showed everyone how to stroke the spine."
"Harry, shouting isn't helping," Hermione said, her voice trembling slightly. Her eyes looked suspiciously watery in the twilight.
Allen stepped between them, playing the role of the cool-headed mediator. "Alright, let's dial it back. The bickering isn't going to fix Malfoy's arm or Hagrid's career. Can someone give me a play-by-play? What actually went down in that clearing?"
Harry took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. "It started with the books. Malfoy was pretending to be terrified of them, acting like he'd never seen a creature before. Then Hagrid brought out the Fairies."
"The Fairies?" Allen raised an eyebrow. "I suggested those to him. They're harmless."
"Exactly!" Hermione cried, clenching her fists. "They were beautiful. The girls were all fascinated, but Malfoy... he started laughing. He said Hagrid was a 'giant dimwit' trying to be 'delicate.' He called him a sissy for bringing out such 'feminine' creatures."
"So a fight broke out?" Allen guessed.
"Not exactly," Harry said, looking down at his boots. "We made a bet. A stupid, ego-driven bet."
Hermione let out a harsh, jagged laugh. "A foolish bet is putting it lightly. It was reckless."
Allen watched Harry's shoulders slouch. Usually, the Boy Who Lived would have a retort ready, but tonight he seemed hollowed out by guilt.
"Ron was the one who called him a coward," Hermione continued, her tone softening just a fraction but still retaining its edge. "And Malfoy, being Malfoy, started bringing up the train... about Harry passing out. He was trying to humiliate us in front of the whole class."
"So you challenged him to something more dangerous?" Allen asked, a sense of dread settling in. "Where does Buckbeak come into this?"
"I just said Malfoy wouldn't have the guts to deal with a real beast," Ron muttered defensively. "He called Harry a weakling, so I told him he was the one who was scared. Then Malfoy demanded we show him what a 'real' creature looked like. He said if Harry could handle one, then he'd shut up."
"And Hagrid actually allowed this?" Allen's voice was low, laced with disappointment. He had spent hours advising Hagrid on the dangers of pride and the volatility of teenagers.
"Harry went first," Ron said, his pride in his friend momentarily overriding his guilt. "It was brilliant, Allen. He bowed to the Hippogriff—Buckbeak—and the thing actually bowed back! Harry rode him! He flew around the paddock like he'd been doing it for years. Malfoy looked like he'd swallowed a lemon."
"A miracle he didn't fall," Hermione muttered.
"Malfoy couldn't stand being upstaged," Harry explained quietly. "He waited until I landed, then he marched right up to Buckbeak. But he didn't bow. He didn't wait. He just started insulting it, calling it an 'ugly, overgrown chicken.' He thought because I did it, it was easy. He thought he was above the rules."
"He deserved a scare," Ron added, though his voice lacked its usual conviction. "But he didn't deserve to have his arm shredded. Now he's going to use this to ruin Hagrid."
Allen sighed, the sound lost in the rustle of the leaves. He had warned Hagrid that Malfoy was a predator looking for a weakness, and Hagrid had handed him one on a silver platter. "Hagrid should have known better. You don't put a third-year in front of a Hippogriff just because of a playground dare."
They reached the hut, the windows glowing with a dim, flickering light. When Allen knocked, a muffled, roaring "Come in!" vibrated through the wood.
The interior of the hut was a mess. Hagrid was slumped at his massive wooden table, his sleeves rolled up to reveal his tree-trunk arms. Fang, his boarhound, was whining piteously, resting his heavy head on Hagrid's knee.
The air smelled strongly of fermented hops. A pewter tankard the size of a bucket sat in front of Hagrid, half-empty. His eyes were bloodshot and glazed, taking several seconds to focus on the four students standing in his doorway.
"Must be some kind of record," Hagrid rumbled, his voice thick and slurred. "Taught for exactly one day before gettin' the sack. Probably a Hogwarts first, eh?"
"It's not your fault, Hagrid!" Ron burst out, crossing the room to stand by the giant man. "I'm the one who goaded him. I'm so sorry."
"And I'm the one who actually rode the beast," Harry added, standing on the other side. "I made it look too easy."
"You haven't actually been fired, have you?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide with alarm. She moved toward the table, ignoring the smell of the ale.
"Not yet," Hagrid groaned, taking a massive swig from his tankard. "But it's only a matter of time. Malfoy... his father... the governors... they won't let this go. Lucius Malfoy's probably already writing to the Ministry."
"How bad is he, really?" Ron asked.
Hagrid looked even more miserable. "Madam Pomfrey... she's the best there is. She patched him up fast enough. But the boy... he's still groaning like he's dyin'. Bandages everywhere. Says the pain is 'unbearable'."
"He's faking it," Harry said fiercely. "Last year, Madam Pomfrey grew back half of Lockhart's skeleton overnight. A scratch from a beak is nothing to her. He's just trying to make it look like a life-threatening injury to get you in trouble."
"The school governors aren't going to care if he's faking," Hagrid sobbed, a sound like a small earthquake. "They'll say I created a dangerous environment. They'll say I didn't listen... and they'll be right. Allen... you told me. You told me to be careful, and I just... I got so caught up in Harry's success, I forgot who I was dealin' with."
"It was Malfoy's choice to break the rules, Hagrid," Hermione said, her voice firm. "We're all witnesses. You gave clear instructions: don't insult the Hippogriff. He ignored you. We'll tell Dumbledore. We'll tell anyone who listens."
"Yeah," Ron said, nodding. "We've got your back. We'll support you through the whole inquiry."
"And don't you dare cancel tomorrow's class," Allen said, his voice cutting through the gloom. He stepped forward, his eyes meeting Hagrid's blurry ones. "The worst thing you can do right now is hide. If you show up tomorrow and teach a perfect, safe, and engaging class, it proves today was a fluke caused by a disobedient student. If you hide, you're admitting guilt."
Hagrid looked up, tears streaming into the thick, tangled mess of his beard. He looked like a wounded giant, but a flicker of hope appeared in his dark eyes.
"Oh, Allen... after all this mess... you're still lookin' forward to my class? You still think I can do it?" He let out a great, shuddering sob that made the plates on the dresser rattle. "Woo—"