Chapter 193: Care of Magical Creatures
What had happened with the Boggart became an unspoken secret among the third year Slytherins.
No one dared mention that they had seen Sister Tamara.
Tamara had not even needed to issue a warning. Not one of them would have dared breathe a word of it to anyone outside Slytherin.
After leaving the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, the students headed outside for their next lesson.
The grass was still damp and slippery as they made their way toward Hagrid's hut.
The third year Slytherins and Gryffindors walked in scattered groups, though the boundary between the two Houses remained unmistakably clear.
"Did you hear? Yesterday in Divination, that lunatic Trelawney said Potter was going to die!"
Draco moved closer to Tamara.
Perhaps hoping to erase some of the embarrassment from his performance against the Boggart, he lowered his voice, though he could not conceal his malicious excitement.
"She said she saw the Grim at the bottom of Potter's teacup. A huge black dog, an omen of death!"
Draco's grin widened.
"And even better, she said there was a deadly snake coiled in the Grim's shadow, waiting to deliver the final bite!"
He laughed triumphantly.
"Potter's finished this time."
Tamara's steady footsteps faltered almost imperceptibly.
Sybill Trelawney.
The name remained in Tamara's memory like a rusted thorn coated in poison.
Fourteen years ago, it had been this woman in the Hog's Head Inn who had uttered that vague prophecy.
The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...
And she, the great Lord Voldemort, had actually walked straight into the trap created by those few maddening words and lost everything because of it.
It remained one of the greatest humiliations of her life.
A cruel, disgusted smile touched Tamara's lips.
"Potter will die, with or without that idiotic prophecy."
Draco immediately noticed the killing intent beneath her voice, and his expression brightened further.
"Of course. Who could possibly know Scarhead's death better than you?"
Before long, they reached a clearing at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
Hagrid stood waiting for them in his battered moleskin overcoat. Bits of wood and unidentified leaves were tangled in his enormous beard.
Behind him stood a dozen tethered creatures unlike anything most of the students had seen before.
They possessed the bodies, hindquarters, and tails of horses, while their forelegs, wings, and heads belonged to enormous eagles. Their steel grey beaks looked sharp enough to cut flesh.
"These are Hippogriffs!"
Hagrid rubbed his enormous hands together excitedly, as though he were presenting a collection of adorable pets.
"Proud creatures, Hippogriffs. Dead proud! Easily offended too. Yeh don't show 'em respect, it might be the last mistake yeh ever make."
Tamara stood at the edge of the Slytherin group with her arms folded, watching coldly.
Third years who can barely control their wands being placed within striking distance of creatures dangerous enough to trouble grown wizards?
She sneered inwardly.
Dumbledore is not merely senile. He may actually enjoy watching students get maimed.
Predictably, Hagrid's teaching method seemed designed to invite disaster.
He taught them no defensive magic.
He did not even mention any sort of calming charm.
Instead, he expected them to walk forward and...
Bow.
Tamara's contempt deepened.
Begging for an animal's approval?
Entrusting one's life to the mood of a beast?
"Right, then!" Hagrid called. "Who wants ter go first?"
Silence settled over the clearing.
No one moved.
Except Harry Potter.
Whether to spare Hagrid the embarrassment or to prove that Trelawney's prediction had not frightened him, Harry gathered his courage and stepped forward.
Under Hagrid's instructions, he slowly approached the Hippogriff called Buckbeak.
Harry was so tense that he nearly forgot to breathe.
Then he bent stiffly at the waist and bowed.
Buckbeak's fierce orange eyes remained fixed upon him.
More than ten seconds passed in suffocating silence.
Finally, apparently satisfied by Harry's nervous but genuine respect, Buckbeak bent his forelegs and lowered his proud head in return.
"Well done, Harry!" Hagrid shouted delightedly. "Well done! Now yeh can go an' stroke him!"
Harry carefully approached and ran one hand through Buckbeak's smooth feathers.
Then, at Hagrid's enthusiastic urging, he was helped onto the Hippogriff's back.
Buckbeak spread his enormous wings.
With one tremendous beat, he launched himself into the sky.
He carried Harry high above the grounds, made a broad circuit through the air, then descended and landed safely.
"Whoa!"
The Gryffindors erupted into cheers.
Harry climbed from Buckbeak's back. His face was slightly pale, but his eyes were bright with excitement.
Tamara watched him coldly.
The mocking curve of her lips deepened.
Foolish Gryffindors.
To flatter a beast and surrender one's dignity with a bow merely to obtain its approval...
How is that different from a dog crawling on the ground and wagging its tail for scraps?
Unfortunately, Harry's moment of triumph struck directly at someone else's pride.
Draco stood beside Tamara.
When he noticed the curve of her lips, jealousy immediately flared in his eyes.
He had no idea that Tamara was mocking Harry rather than admiring him.
His competitive pride overwhelmed whatever caution the Hippogriff had inspired.
If Potter could do it, why could a Malfoy not?
More importantly, Draco wanted to prove to Tamara that he was better than Scarhead.
"What's so difficult about that?"
Draco scoffed and swaggered out from the group.
He completely disregarded Hagrid's repeated warnings to bow and show respect.
In Draco's mind, he was a noble pure blood wizard.
Why should he bow to an animal?
He walked directly toward Buckbeak, who had only just landed.
Draco raised his chin.
"You're not dangerous at all, are you?"
The contempt in his voice instantly provoked the Hippogriff.
Buckbeak gave a furious screech.
His orange eyes blazed.
Then he reared back and lashed out with one enormous foreleg.
The razor sharp talons tore through the air toward Draco's face.
"No!" Hagrid roared.
Students screamed.
Several of the more timid ones covered their eyes.
Draco's pupils contracted.
The threat of death descended upon him in an instant, crushing his arrogance beneath the reality of overwhelming force.
But one thought remained in his mind.
Tamara had told them not to disgrace Slytherin.
Not to bring shame upon their families.
So Draco did not scream and flee.
Gritting his teeth, he desperately threw himself backwards while his right hand plunged into his robes for his wand.
The movement was clumsy, but surprisingly quick.
Not quick enough.
Buckbeak was far faster than Draco's spellcasting.
The talons were already slicing toward his face.
Then, just as they came within inches of him...
"Stop."
A cold voice cut through the chaos.
It was not loud.
Yet it carried with it something that seemed to strike directly at the instincts of every creature present.
No one had noticed when Tamara moved.
She was suddenly standing ahead of the crowd.
She had not even drawn her wand.
Tamara merely tilted her pale face and looked directly into Buckbeak's furious orange eyes.
[Magical Creature Affinity +20%]
The passive ability had originally been described by the System as making magical creatures more inclined to trust and approach her.
But combined with Tamara's Dark Lord soul and the hostility still simmering within her from the Boggart lesson...
Something about that affinity changed.
Affinity?
No.
In Lord Voldemort's hands, even affection could become domination.
Buckbeak froze.
His raised talons stopped in midair.
Magical creatures possessed instincts far sharper than those of ordinary humans.
The moment Buckbeak met Tamara's eyes, it was as though he had plunged into a lightless abyss.
Before him no longer stood a young Slytherin girl.
His instincts perceived something far more terrifying.
A presence steeped in death.
Something surrounded by the invisible weight of countless corpses and oceans of blood.
Primal fear overwhelmed Buckbeak's fury.
"Whrr..."
The aggression in his orange eyes disappeared.
In its place appeared something almost disturbingly human.
Fear.
Buckbeak released a low, submissive sound.
Slowly and cautiously, he lowered his raised foreleg, as though afraid that even the slightest sudden movement might provoke the being watching him.
Then, beneath the stunned gazes of everyone present, the proud creature lowered its head.
Not only did Buckbeak abandon the attack, he actually approached Tamara on his own.
He gently rubbed the side of his enormous beak against the hem of her robes with a docility that bordered on fawning.
The entire clearing fell silent.
Hagrid's mouth dropped open wide enough to swallow a pumpkin.
He rubbed his eyes, apparently unable to believe that the creature before him was the same Buckbeak he knew.
"How...?" Harry stared.
He had spent long, tense moments bowing and waiting for Buckbeak to accept him.
Tamara had not bowed.
She had not even lifted a hand.
She had simply looked at him.
And Buckbeak had submitted.
Tamara paid the creature rubbing against her robes no attention.
Instead, she lowered her eyes toward Draco, who was sitting in the mud with his eyes squeezed shut and his body trembling.
"Open your eyes, Malfoy."
Her voice was cold and absolute.
Draco cautiously opened them.
When he saw Buckbeak standing beside Tamara like an obedient pet, he froze.
Tamara looked down at him.
"Touch him."
"I..."
Draco hesitantly extended one hand, clearly expecting Buckbeak to attack him again.
Tamara's eyes hardened.
"Do not make me repeat myself."
She glanced toward the Hippogriff.
"Pet him. Stop sitting there embarrassing Slytherin."
Draco swallowed.
Under the pressure of Tamara's gaze, he reached forward and placed his hand against Buckbeak's enormous beak.
The Hippogriff's feathers bristled.
It clearly had no desire whatsoever to be touched by Draco.
But Tamara was standing there.
That terrible pressure still rested upon it.
Buckbeak did not dare move.
It merely gave a few aggrieved, low sounds and endured Draco's hand.
Only then did Tamara turn.
Her cold gaze swept across the students and landed precisely upon Harry Potter.
An undisguised smile of mockery appeared on her lips.
"Do you understand now?"
Her voice was quiet.
"True taming does not require grovelling for favour."
Tamara's dark eyes remained fixed on Harry.
"Only absolute power earns true submission."
Silence settled over the clearing.
Neither Hagrid nor the Gryffindors immediately found an answer to such naked arrogance.
Harry frowned.
His green eyes remained fixed on Tamara.
Every instinct within him rejected what she was saying.
He refused to believe that crushing another living creature's dignity through fear was the true nature of magic.
Yet Buckbeak stood there, once fierce and uncontrollable, now docile beneath Tamara's gaze.
The sight left Harry with an uncomfortable sense of suffocation.
Only moments earlier, he had earned the creature's trust through patience and respect.
Now, before Tamara's overwhelming dominance, that careful exchange of respect seemed fragile by comparison.
Harry met her bottomless black eyes.
Then he answered quietly, each word deliberate.
"Is that so?"
His expression hardened.
"I'll remember those words, Riddle."