🖇·˚ ༘ ┊͙[ chapter twenty-two ] ! ˊˎ

╰─▸ fists fights and family reunions

     I'VE ALWAYS HAD PROBLEMS WITH MY TEMPER. Most of the time, I find reasons to get over myself, ignore it, direct my anger somewhere else, but there is no reason for me not to kick Draco Malfoy's arse.

     He's not hard to find. He's usually followed around by a group of low-life minions just as grotesque as himself. And I don't use these words lightly. My allegiance is to my house. Draco Malfoy is on my Quidditch team and has done a pretty decent job on it too. My family are close with his.

     And yet. And yet. I can push these facts aside for this one occasion. Not only has this entitled brat had it coming for years but ever since he complained about Buckbeak to Father Dearest, thus sentencing the poor, innocent bird to death, I'm done making excuses.

     Malfoy isn't a difficult boy to track down. He makes himself known with his awful cackling and boisterous attitude. After not long asking around, I located him in the courtyard, surrounded by his usual posse.

     "Feel better now you got Buckbeak killed?" I asked before I even made it over to the corner his Slytherin pack had claimed.

     The platinum blonde head of hair turned to look at me, his smirk not once fading even as he processed my words and put a face to the voice.

     "Is that what happened?" Malfoy asked, though he made it perfectly obvious he knew exactly what went down at the hearing. "Such a shame."

     His eyes flared and he waited only three seconds before he laughed, inviting a flow of chuckling to ensue from behind him.

     "You know perfectly well what you did, you shithead."

     Malfoy's lips formed an o as he approached me, eyes trailing up and down my body before the muscles in his face settled and he folded his arms over his chest. "You better watch what you say to me, y/l/n, or you'll be the next one I report to my father."

     Was this arsehole implying I deserved the same punishment as Buckbeak for calling him out? If only he knew I didn't give three flying fucks what his daddy had to say about my behaviour. I'd already called him a shithead – in for a penny, in for a pound, right?

     The fury had built from the pit of my stomach and I hadn't burned nearly enough of it off from walking over here and insulting him. So without much more thought to it, I lifted my arm and connected my fist with his face.

     A burning pain rippled up my arm, starting with my knuckles and as much as my knuckles needed attending to, I didn't have much time to stall, knowing having my wand in my hand at this point, was probably a good idea.

     Malfoy's face contorted in agony as his body keeled over. Draco's goons all had their hands poised in their robes by this point and I was pretty sure it was an attempt to hide the fact they were clutching their wands while also maintaining the element of surprise for whenever they decided to pull them on me. I didn't care – I had two years more experience with defence charms than them and I was far too pleased with the blood dripping from Malfoy's nose to care. He dabbed at it with his finger and when he brought those fingers into his eyeline, the red liquid staining his prints, he turned to look at me, utterly exasperated that I had the audacity.

     He didn't hesitate to start marching towards me. "How dare you—"

     The tip of my wand was digging into his neck before he could finish his sentence. Fear struck into his pupils and satisfaction settled somewhere in the pit of my stomach.

     I tugged him forward with the fabric of his robes and practically spat venom in his ears. "I hope you suffer a slow painful death with no one by your side. Maybe then you'll finally realise just how unbearable you really are."

     Malfoy sneered but the sense of horror still lingered in the air from where I still clutched my wand tight. Finally, I released him, throwing a warning glance over his shoulder to Malfoy's friends who hadn't (smartly) dared come any closer. Their arms lowered by their sides, and I knew I had beaten them.

     Adrenaline racing through my veins, I stormed out of the courtyard, well aware of the crowd I had attracted but not caring enough to stay and chat.

     It felt good. But not good enough. Punching Malfoy was one thing, but I hadn't stopped what was going to happen no matter who I took my anger out on. It was a temporary solution to make myself feel better, if only for a second.

     Because Buckbeak had but an hour left.

' ੈ˚ ❃

     TIME SEEMED TO MOVE SO SLOWLY WHEN I WAS WAITING FOR DEATH. Some might see that as a good thing – it may even feel like Buckbeak had longer on this Earth. But I didn't want to procrastinate. I was sitting with these awful emotions, not sure what to do with myself.

     When I concluded that I couldn't focus enough to do any work, I left the library without taking my stuff with me. I found the best patch of grass on the hill besides Hagrid's hut and decided to wait there. At least I was getting some vitamin D and wasn't in the vicinity of anyone. Just in case I cried.

     The more I experienced these feelings of sadness, the more I realised crying was a real possibility. Public displays of emotions always made me uneasy, but as I stared at the little cobblestone hut at the bottom of the rolling hill, I felt nothing but the undying urge to let the dam break and let the tears fall.

     I clawed my eyes away from where Buckbeak sat peacefully in his den, blissfully unaware of what was coming, and laid flat on my back. The grass tickled against my bare skin as I took in the rays of sun watching as it grew smaller and smaller, replaced by purple brush strokes along the sky.

     "I heard you kicked the crap out of Malfoy."

     The last rays of the sun weren't particularly harsh but I did have to squint my eyes before Cedric stepped in my view, blocking them. He hovered over me and after my eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness, I saw he was grinning delighted down at me.

     "Did you now?" I asked as he took up the empty spot on the grass beside me and I turned to him.

     "Hm yes, something about him crying? It was all awfully entertaining, and I thought you would love to hear you're the cause of it," Cedric smirked as he propped his body up on his elbows.

     "You know me so well," I smiled back.

     Cedric poked at my exposed shoulder. "So what happened then? I don't doubt he deserved whatever you did to the poor sod but details would be nice."

     I deliberated how I should explain this. But, since I would probably need to come up with an alternative explanation for the events of today anyway when I inevitably encountered Draco's father and/or my own, I shrugged my shoulders and told Cedric, "I ... gave him a stern talking to, that's all."

     "A stern talking to that involved fists?"

     "You get it."

     Once his laughter subsided, Cedric sat up and brought his knees to his chest as he stared out at where the sun was losing itself behind the Forbidden Forest. "What are you doing out here, anyway? Took forever to find you."

     "I'm honoured you spent your time looking for me, Diggory," I teased. "I know it's precious."

     He craned his neck backwards to look at me and I took that as my queue to sit beside him instead of laying down. I shuffled a little closer but he made no move to protest, even subconsciously.

     "Will you just answer the question?" He moaned, but the smile was still present on his face and evident in his voice.

     "Waiting to see Hagrid," I told him. "They're going to kill Buckbeak." I tried to keep the sorrow out of my voice to protect myself from revealing any vulnerabilities, but I didn't find myself scared to show that to Cedric anyway.

     He sat up a little straighter, his ears spiking in shock. "God, that's awful," he said. "Is there any way to stop it?"

     I shook my head solemnly. "I don't think so. Order of Lucius Malfoy. And he always seems to get his way."

     Cedric's lips twisted in a frown. "That's completely unfair. I'm really sorry, y/n. I know you liked Buckbeak."

     I did my best to smile but my muscles didn't seem to comply. "Thanks, Cedric, but it's not your fault."

     Silence descended upon us, but not the kind that leaves you begging for someone to speak. The kind when you can appreciate the sound of the wind rustling through the trees and the tranquillity of another human breathing softly.

     Cedric's eyes were trained on Hagrid's hut the entire time, like he was waiting for something to happen, as though if his eyes burned through the walls hard enough, he could change what was about to happen. There was confusion behind his eyes too that slowly faded to sadness as he pulled his gaze towards me.

     "When are you expecting to see Hagrid?"

     "I don't know," I told him honestly. I haven't spoken to the professor all day but was simply waiting for any sign that he needed support. "I just wanted to be here, you know?"

     "You shouldn't watch it alone," Cedric said. He edged closer on the grass and, either by accident or on purpose, his fingers grazed my hand from where it propped me up. "I'll wait with you if you'll have me."

     Something foreign fluttered in my heart and I didn't like it. But maybe I did. His creamy chocolate eyes bored into mine and I could have melted.

     Words were lost on me, dying in my throat so I just nodded. Slowly at first, unsure how to react. I don't like people knowing what I'm feeling on the inside, so it's rare for anyone to offer me comfort. But as I came to grips with the fact that this soulful boy wanted to keep me company as something painful happened right in front of me, I began to nod more comfortably, hoping I was conveying just how much his offer meant to me, even when I couldn't say how I felt.

     Instead of questioning why I wanted to be close when it happened, Cedric accepted my decision, didn't pry, and offered his shoulder. I don't quite know what I did to ever deserve that, nor do I know why he has stuck around this long but here we are.

     Cedric smiled softly before fishing out a chocolate bar from his pocket. He ripped open the wrapper before snapping it in two. "I can't promise it's not melted but it's yours if you want it."

     I could tell by how limp the halved bar was that it was melted but I accepted it gratefully, knocking my shoulder against his. "And they say chivalry is dead."

     "What can I say?" He smirked as he tossed his half in his mouth, shrugging as he went. "I'm a gentleman."

' ੈ˚ ❃

     BY THE TIME THE AXEMAN ARRIVED AT HAGRID'S HUT, Cedric had settled my nerves. We spoke about nothing and everything on that patch of grass until the sky turned a dull grey and evening drew near. We watched from afar as Buckbeak stirred in his pumpkin patch and I buried my face into Cedric's chest when it happened. He held me tight, and I realised in the moments I clung onto him, breathing in his sugary scent, that I had never been this vulnerable with anyone before. Not even my family.

     The crows cawed, I held back tears, and the wind grew nippier. A silent agreement passed between us that it was time to head back to the castle and so Cedric got to his feet. He dusted off his trousers before offering out his hand for me to use to get up. We walked side by side up the grassy incline towards the castle, our heads hung low, not sure if words would be sufficient enough to summarise how we felt.

     Cedric suggested we talk a lap around the castle to stay in the fresh air a little bit longer and because I already knew the confines of the building would make me feel trapped and I liked his company, I nodded my head, and we kept walking. Cedric took hold of the conversation, and I was grateful for that, just to listen to his soothing voice and watch as the emotions changed on his face as he told different stories.

     He was about to tell me about the time he broke his arm playing rugby when he was nine (because apparently "it was hilarious but I'm pretty sure I died for a minute") when three figures just over the hill caught my attention. Upon closer inspection, I realised it was Harry, Ron and Hermione. The daunting being of the Whomping Willow stood behind them and I wondered what they were doing making such a racket at this time on this mild day. Surely Hagrid had told them what today was.

     Cedric caught on to how unresponsive I had become to his story and followed my gaze. He came to a stop and his face crumpled in confusion. "What are they doing?"

     A chill ran through the air just then. I suddenly got the overwhelming feeling that something wasn't quite right. "I don't know," I replied, my feet carrying me towards them without me remembering I had told them to do that.

     "I say we leave them to it," Cedric said, before turning right and taking a different route.

     I couldn't shake my gut feeling that something horrible was on the horizon so I reached out my hand and stopped him. "Cedric, wait, not yet."

     He turned to look down at where my fingers had wrapped around his arm, before flicking back to the trio just across the valley. "What is it, y/n? I think we should go. It's getting dark."

     Nothing could prepare me for what I saw next.

     "Oh my God."

     Chilling yellow eyes. A fur coat as black as charcoal. Claws burrowed deep into the soil below the growling beast. Right behind them.

     I thought I was imagining it at first but as I stared at the black dog longer and longer, the less convinced I became that my mind was making it up. I could practically feel its breath on my skin, hear its low rumble in my bones.

     It was my Uncle Sirius. Only as his Animagus.

     The best way my uncle thought he could bond with his child niece was as a big furry dog. Of course, that's how I saw him back then, not as a menacing beast. I used to beg for him to transform, spend hours curled up in his warmth right up until I was a teenager. I would recognise that canine anywhere. I just never thought I would see him ever again.

     I wasn't feeling those happy childhood memories like a soothing flurry through my skin like I should be when reuniting with the man who brought me so much joy in my younger years, the one person I thought understood me. Instead, I was chilled to the bone, my blood running cold. Sirius looked poised to kill, a machine. Not the man I once knew but the man everyone was talking about – a killer.

     "Harry, stop!" I yelled, even when I knew it was useless. I was too far away for my voice to travel that far. The determination in my voice continued even when it became raspy and died in my throat.

     I pleaded for my legs to carry me further and the thought of what Cedric was doing was lost on me. My feet ploughed into the grass, right towards the thrashing tree despite the boy behind me begging me not to get any closer, that is was dangerous. Despite running faster than I ever have in my life, I was too late. The dog latched its teeth onto Ron Weasley's leg and dragged him down the ditch underneath the tree. Harry's arm outstretched in an attempt to haul Ron back out into the night, so much so I thought his arm might pop out of its socket.

     But just like me, Harry was too late to save Ron who was now tumbling down the trunk of the tree, his wails carried by the wind, forced deeper and deeper by Sirius Black.

     Only none of them knew it.

     Yet.