𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞 𝐀𝐦𝐞 | 𝐇.𝐏.

𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝟓 - 𝟖

The four of us were standing on the bridge connecting Hogwarts to the grounds, simply to get out of the castle for a little bit. Even on days like today, when it was cold and misty and wet, it was a great, quiet place for us all to take a break.

"You did everything you could," Weasley was trying to make Potter feel better. Even a week after the little incident where Umbridge found out we were directly disobeying her right under her nose, Potter still felt guilty and always looked distant. "No one could win against that old hag."

"Even Dumbledore didn't see this coming," Hermione added.

"If it's anyone's fault, it's our's," I said quietly. Potter looked at me and my body went numb. We had barely acknowledged each other since Christmas, and now he was looking straight at me. I was immensely relieved when Hermione started talking again.

"Yeah, we talked you into it," she said.

"But I agreed," he tore his eyes away from me. "I tried so hard to help, and all it's done is make things worse." He swallowed and went back to looking out at the depressing landscape. "Anyways, that doesn't matter anymore. I don't want to pretend anymore. All it does is make you care too much, and the more you care, the more you have to loose."

We were all silent for a moment at his words. I had a feeling he wasn't just talking about Dumbledore's Army as a whole anymore, and I had a sinking suspicious he was thinking about me. 

Then there was an extremely loud, not so secretive "Psst" from around the corner of the bridge. We whipped around to see Hagrid, attempting and failing to hide himself. Not only was his body double the size of most full-grown adults, but it was hard to miss his still-bruised face and bushy, unbrushed hair.

He gestured for us to follow him, and we threw confused glances at each other before we let him lead us into the Forbidden Forest. With the mixture of the fog and it nearly being night, it was almost impossible to see through the trees. Hermione lit her wand, but it barely made any difference.

At one point I tripped over a tree root and Potter caught my arm right before I face planted into the mud. I looked up to thank him, but when I did our faces were way too close and my skin was burning where he was touching me and I was very much aware of Weasley and Hermione behind us. 

I ripped my arm out of his hand and continued after the oblivious Hagrid, ignoring my warm face and rapidly beating heart. If that happened every time he touched me, I might have to move to a different country.

"Any idea where he's taking us?" Weasley mumbled.

"Hagrid, why can't you just tell us?" I asked, hot and bothered. Before he could answer there was a the sound of a horse neighing, and then a rumbling sound like a stampede was coming through. Between the trees in front of us I saw flashes of centaurs hurtling by.

"I've never seen the centaurs so riled," Hagrid commented, ignoring my question. "And they're dangerous at the best of times. If the Ministry restricts their territory much more they're gonna have a full uprising on their hands."

"Hagrid, what's going on?" Hermione asked firmly, but I could hear the fear in her voice.

"I'm sorry to be so mysterious, you four," he apologized. "I- I wouldn't be bothering you at all with it, but... with Dumbledore gone..." he took a deep, shaky breath. "I'll likely be gettin' the sack any day now. And I just couldn't leave without telling someone about him."

As if on cue, there were lumbering footsteps from our left. At first I thought a huge, clumpy, twelve-foot-tall mound of dirt was stumbling towards us. Then I realized it was something even better—a giant. A real life giant, with a big lumpy body, a small crooked head, and wearing what seemed to be a tattered brown jacket and a dirty kilt. An interesting fashion statement.