Magic? || Years 5-7

Giants: Year 5

Amisty and Hermione raced up the girls' dormitory staircase as quietly as they could manage, the boys disappearing around their own. Amisty flipped open her trunk, throwing the cloak over her shoulders and tugging on her gloves.

"Your scarf!" Hermione hissed quietly, throwing it toward her in a blur of red-gold. "It's cold outside."

"I won't even be outside as a human," Amisty shot back, lacing up her boots and tying the scarf around her neck. "We don't all fit under there, remember?"

She sat there -- in wolf form -- waiting for Hermione as she shoved a knitted hat on her head, threw a scarf on, pulled on gloves and boots, then tied up her own boots meticulously. They hurried back downstairs, earning an impatient click from Ron as he watched them.

"Well, it's cold out there!" Hermione argued, crossing her arms and huffing as they crawled out of the portrait hole. Amisty wound her way around their feet, careful to keep out of Ron's way. He was so tall now he was crouched down to keep his feet hidden from view. Occasionally, they'd stop to check the Map to watch out for any teachers, or cats, patrolling around. She slipped out from under the Cloak when they reached the grounds, melting into the shadows. The snow crunched under her paws pleasantly, fresh flakes drifting onto her fur and leaving specks of white against her black coat. They hurried through the snow up toward Hagrid's door, where yellow light poured out through the windows. Amisty shook out the snow, waiting at the door as Harry knocked.

"Hagrid, it's us!" Harry called, knocking again.

"Shoulda known!" Hagrid's voice replied, gruff and scruffy and familiar. She could hear him lumbering toward the door. "Bin home three seconds... Out the way, Fang... Out the way, yeh dozy dog..."

The door swung open and Amisty stumbled backward, retching at the stench that just assaulted her muzzle. Hermione, always the vocal one, screamed.

"Merlin's beard, keep it down!" Hagrid waved his hand worriedly, scanning over their heads. "Under that cloak, are yeh? Well, get in, get in!"

"I'm sorry!" Hermione whispered, clearly shocked as they hurried into Hagrid's hut. "I just -- oh, Hagrid!"

"It's nuthin', it's nuthin'!" Hagrid fussed, turning away from them to close the door and draw the curtains over the windows. Amisty swayed on her paws, blinking dazedly as she prayed that what she was seeing as a hallucination. It wasn't. His hair was covered with old, dried blood and his left eye was swollen with bruises and a cut. Scratches covered his face and hands, and when she watched him carefully she could see he had broken ribs judging by his slow movements as he placed a kettle over the fire. She shifted back, covering her nose with her hand and giving her head a shake.

"What happened to you?" Harry asked, his voice a tad harsher than usual.

"Told yeh, nuthin'," Hagrid replied, his voice holding an edge of finality. "Want a cuppa?"

"Come off it, you're in a right state!" Ron protested.

"I'm tellin' yeh, I'm fine," Hagrid shook his head, giving a grin that quickly morphed into a grimace. "Blimey, it's good ter see you three again -- had good summers, did yeh?"

"Hagrid, you've been attacked!" Ron argued, sounding frustrated.

"Fer the las' time, it's nuthin'!" Hagrid retorted.

"Would you say it was nothing if one of us turned up with a pound of mince instead of a face?" Ron asked sharply.

"You ought to go and see Madam Pomfrey, Hagrid," Hermione insisted, staring at him with wide eyes. "Some of those cuts look nasty."