Chapter Text
“… but that’s illegal, so I guess I’ll be busy trying to prevent my daughter from telling Liz or anyone else too much about the process.” Professor McGonagall shot Liz a scowl, but the girl only grinned. Miri had recently started her qualification as Animagus, and everything about it was kept secret. Even trivia like what animal forms she would prefer – some animals just didn’t fit for some wizards, but you still got a rough choice. Liz’s money was on a cat or something similarly fluffy, that would get Miri the young men’s attention she wanted. Or maybe a falcon, some elegant bird, that would get her everyone’s attention.
“I’m going to put my wand down here on the windowsill, and you’ll see, I don’t need any media for the transformation.” She walked away from the windows to the other side of the classroom, where she transformed into her feline form. As always, Liz couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of the spectacle markings around her eyes. It was just too funny how different the glasses and the markings made their wearer look, even though they were supposedly the same thing.
Sadly, it seemed like she was the only one looking. The others were all busy stealing glances at Harry, staring at the surface of their desks, looking to Harry again…
Professor McGonagall noticed it, too. “Really, what has got into you all today?” she asked in bewilderment when she had turned back into her human form. “Not that it matters, but that’s the first time my transformation’s not got applause from a class.”
Everyone turned to Harry, pretty obviously staring now. Hermione raised her hand. “Please, Professor, we’ve just had our first Divination class, and we were reading the tea leaves, and – ”
“Ah, of course.” Professor McGonagall frowned, as if she had heard about it earlier and was trying to remember the details. “There is no need to say any more, Miss Granger. Tell me, which of you will be dying this year?”
“Me,” Harry said. “But Liz dropped off in class, that’s something you should know.”
“Did you.” Her frown deepened as she looked at her daughter.
Liz rolled her eyes. “You wouldn’t stay awake there, either.”
“Should have known it was a dumb idea,” she muttered to herself. To Harry, she said: “I see. Then you should know, Potter, that Sibyll Trelawney has predicted the death of one student a year since she arrived at this school. None of them has died yet. Seeing death omens is her favourite way of greeting a new class. She thinks it makes her – well, I’m not supposed to bitch about my colleagues.” She took a deep breath before she continued: “Divination is one of the most imprecise branches of magic, and I make no secret of it that I don’t understand why it is taught at our school. True Seers exist, but they are very rare, and their gift has nothing to do with reading tea leaves. Sybill Trelawney is – ” She interrupted herself again. “Let me assure you that, if you die, you don’t need to hand in your homework. But Liz, if you fall asleep again, that’s not an excuse!”
After lunch, they had their first lesson of Care Of Magical Creatures. The weather was ideal for a lesson outdoors, not too cold, and it didn’t seem like it was going to rain. Gryffindor and Slytherin had the lesson together, but Crabbe and Goyle had taken Care Of Magical Creatures, too, so it didn’t matter much. Liz stayed behind, whereas Draco made his way to the front. This was a pity, as he could imagine that Liz’s comments on her personal experience with those magical animals would be hilarious. He couldn’t have told what it was that made him want to spend more and more time with Liz, she was fun to be with, and understanding in less funny situations, and she knew so much… she could cook a meal even if you had forgotten half of the ingredients and devices , and there was not a stain she wouldn’t know how to get rid of. Thinking about it, she probably was the cool best friend in their relationship.
Hagrid led them along the edge of the forest to an empty paddock. “Everyone gather ‘round the fence here! That’s it – make sure you can see – now, first thing you’ll want to do is open your books – ”
Draco turned to Liz, who was standing in the shadow a little away from the others, holding her open Monster Book of Monsters in both hands and looking bored, but also a tad nervous. At his questioning gaze, she took it in one hand and traced one finger over the spine. Whatever this was supposed to mean.
“How?” he asked.
“Eh?” said Hagrid.
“How do we open our books?” He looked around the class; no one was able to hold their book without having it tied together with a belt, a rope or something else. No one except Liz, and she gave the impression like she wasn’t there at all.
“Hasn’t… hasn’t anyone been able to open their books?”
They all shook their heads. Starting the lesson with a book bite, what a great start of the year. It was fairly obvious that Hagrid had never learned how to teach.
“You’ve got to stroke them,” Hagrid said, as if it was the most self-evident thing in the world. “Look.” He took Hermione Granger’s book, ripped off the Spellotape and stroked the spine, before it had the chance to bite. The Monster Book of Monsters immediately stopped raging. So, that was what Liz had tried to tell him.
“Oh, how silly we’ve all been!” Draco sneered. Because, seriously? “We should have stroked them! Why didn’t we guess!”
“I – I thought they were funny…”
“Oh, tremendously funny! Really witty, giving us books that try and rip our hands off!”
“Right then… so – so you’ve got your books and… and… now you need the Magical Creatures. Yeah. So I’ll go and get them. Hang on…” He went to the forest and out of sight.
“God, this place is going to the dogs,” Draco said loudly, with a shake of his head. “That oaf teaching classes, my father’ll have a fit when I tell him – ”
“Shut up, Malfoy,” Potter interrupted him angrily.
Draco grinned. “Careful, Potter, there’s a Dementor behind you!”
A squeal from Lavender Brown ended their argument. She pointed towards the opposite side of the paddock, where about a dozen of creatures came from, whose front half was a giant eagle, while their hind legs and tail were those of a horse. All of them wore leather collars around their feathered necks, to which kind of a leash was attached, that was being held by Hagrid. Everyone made a step backwards when they trotted into the paddock.
Draco threw a quick glance to Liz. She didn’t move a muscle.
“Hippogriffs!” Hagrid announced cheerfully. “Beautiful, aren’t they?”
They were. The same way that a sharp sword and a polished iron maid and a bubbling, foaming cauldron of poison were.
“So, if you want to come a bit nearer…”
Liz was the first one to confidently approach the fence, hesitantly followed by Potter and his friends.
“Now, first thing you gotta know about Hippogriffs is, they’re proud,” Hagrid lectured. “Easily offended, Hippogriffs are. Don’t never insult one, ‘cause it might be the last thing you do.”
Draco was not really listening, his brain was fully engaged with talking to Crabbe and Goyle and watching Liz at the same time.
“Elizabeth, you’d like to show us!”
“Would I?” Liz muttered at this statement. “Guess I would.” She laid her book on the ground – open, so it wouldn’t try to bite again – and skilfully climbed over the fence.
“You always wait for the Hippogriff to make the first move,” Hagrid commented as Liz made eye contact with the nearest animal. “It’s polite, see? You walk towards him, and you bow, and you wait.” Liz made a few steps forward, then got down on one knee, on the second knee, always keeping her head up and not breaking the eye contact, until she was sitting on her heels. She looked tiny, especially in comparison to Hagrid and the Hippogriffs. “I don’t know why she’s kneeling, but I wouldn’t recommend it to you. You bow, alright? If he bows back, you’re allowed to touch him. If he doesn’t bow, then get away from him sharpish, ‘cause those talons hurt.”
While he was still talking, the Hippogriff had bent his knees and lowered its head, allowing Liz to take off the leather collar and pet its coat of fur and feathers. “May I?” she asked and immediately added: “Nevermind, I’m gonna do it anyway.”
Draco didn’t have time to wonder what she was going to do anyway, because in the blink of an eye, Liz had climbed onto the creature’s back, pressing her knees together and sinking her hands in the feathering as the Hippogriff took off the ground. It was a wonderful picture, Liz’s hair and the Hippogriff’s coat shimmering in the sun, her skirt that had ridden up and showed her purple second-hand stockings with a pattern of grey flowers. It looked so easy that it could not possibly be real… and it didn’t seem like they were going to come back down soon.
“Right – who wants to go next? No one?”
“I’ll do it,” Potter finally said. (Draco had not planned to try it himself, but now that Saint Potter did, he could hardly not do it.)
“Good man, Harry! Right – let’s see how you get on with Buckbeak.”
The Gryffindor climbed over the fence, bowed, the Hippogriff bowed, Potter patted its beak, then Hagrid allowed him a ride and they flew a small round before Potter left the paddock again.
The class was cheering. “Good work, Harry!” Hagrid roared. “Okay, who else wants a go?”
All of them entered the paddock now, while Hagrid untied the Hippogriffs. Draco expected it to be easy – if even Potter could do it, shaking like a Bowtruckle in a storm . And really, Buckbeak didn’ t hesitate and bowed to him. Draco proceeded to pat his beak. “I bet you’re not dangerous at all, are you?” Ridiculous, the creature probably couldn’t understand what he was saying. As Liz used to say about the ponies, it was all about t he tone . “Are you, you great ugly brute?” That was a mistake .
A flash of sharp talons, and Draco’s arm was sliced open. He screamed. It hurt like hell. He stumbled backwards and fell into the grass.
The class panicked. Liz would nonchalantly get up and say ‘Hurts like hell, but looks worse than it is’, Draco thought. And then: Might as well seize the opportunity and have Hagrid fired.
“I’m dying!” he yelled. The blood stains, at least, were big enough to give someone the impression. “I’m dying, look at me! It’s killed me!”
“You’re not dying!” Hagrid trounced him. Damn.
And this was the moment when Liz and her Hippogriff landed on the meadow again.
“Now, that was your own fault,” Liz said rationally when she sat at his bedside in the Hospital Wing. “Can’t say you weren’t warned.”
“But you have to admit that Hagrid’s not capable of teaching!”
“Oh, Professor Kettleburn wasn’t any better,” she claimed airily. “What did you think how he lost his foot? – And his arm?”
“But he never killed a scholar, right?”
“Mmh… no, but he was damn close.”
“Why, thank you,” Draco said sarcastically. “You really know how to cheer me up.”
She put on a stubborn face. “I’m merely being realistic.”
“Then stop being realistic about my dreams. I’m in trouble anyway.” He reached for an envelope on his bedside table. “The Ministry sent me an official letter this morning,” he reported. “Turns out it’s not allowed to do magic on the stagecoach.”
Liz grimaced. “That sucks.”
“But did you know that rule?”
She shook her head. “Never heard of it before. They can’t sentence you for the Patronus, it’s a necessary protection charm and there were no muggles around. I’d like to know how they justify the complaint .”
There was a short, thoughtful pause, then Draco asked: “How did you know how to open the book?”
“Which one?”
“In the lesson, how did you know how to open the Monster Book of Monsters?”
Liz smiled. It was not a happy smile, rather a little nostalgic. “Sometime, a wise man told me: ‘When she’s trying to kill you, the chances are seventy per cent that she just needs a hug and an hour of sleep.’ I’m trying to live upon this maxime.”
“’s that how your parents fight?” he asked.
Liz shrugged. “Sometimes,” she said. “When it’s getting emotional. Which doesn’t happen a lot, but when it does, it’s dramatic.”
“Doesn’t even sound bad,” he stated. “’cause, you know, when my parents are fighting, Mother usually storms out of the room, and Father watches her leaving with that helpless expression and says things to himself like: ‘Why did she say yes at all’ and such. Not very nice to witness.”
“And on top of all, you feel guilty although you’re not involved,” Liz sighed.
“And you hardly dare to ask a question, fear the times when it’s an important one.”
“Oh well.”
Draco had also wanted to ask when she had learnt to handle Hippogriffs, but before he could raise the question, Madam Pomfrey had already thrown Liz out of the infirmary.