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xi.a free elf
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A week had passed as well as the month of November, and with the coming of December came wind and sleet, and Harry still hadn't brought up the kiss. He's had many chances seeing as he and Matilda still spend much of their days together. And they talk – talk about everything but what happened outside the Ravenclaw common room a week ago. He kissed her, Harry kissed her, and Matilda still couldn't wrap her head around it. It was a real kiss too. Not to be mistaken for the quick cheek pecks she has had before, but a real, on the lips, butterflies in her stomach kiss.
Matilda didn't believe that Harry wanted to talk about the kiss. Maybe he was afraid to bring it up around her in fear of a harsh rejection. But Matilda needed to talk about it. To know what had been going through Harry's head that evening, to know what told him to kiss her. Matilda refused to believe that it was because he fancied her. She was sure that if that was the reason than she'd have noticed the signs of his affection, but little to Matilda's knowledge, she has turned away a number of Hogwarts students who were blatant with their feelings for her, unknowingly.
With the stronger winds and the dropping temperatures that came with the winter months, Matilda was glad for her fires and thick walls in the castle as she passed the Dummstrang ship on the lake, which was pitching in the high winds, its black sails billowing against the dark skies. She thought the Beauxbatons caravan was likely to be pretty chilly, too. Hagrid, he noticed, was keeping Madame Maxime's horses well provided with their preferred drink of single-malt whiskey; the fumes wafting from the trough in the corner of their paddock were enough to make the entire Care of Magical Creatures class lightheaded. This was unhelpful, as they were still tending the horrible Skrewts, and needed their wits about them.
"I'm not sure whether they hibernate or not," Hagrid told the shivering class in the windy pumpkin patch next lesson. "Thought we'd jus' try an' see if they fancied a kip... We'll jus' settle 'em down in these boxes..."
There were now only ten Skrewts left; apparently their desire to kill each other had not been exercised out of them. Each of them was now approaching six feet in length. Their thick grey armor, their powerful, scuttling legs, their fire-blasting ends, their stings and their suckers, combined to make the Skrewts the most repulsive things Matilda had ever seen. The class looked dispiritedly at the enormous boxes Hagrid had brought out, all lined with pillows and fluffy blankets.
"We'll jus' lead 'em in here," Hagrid said, "an' put the lids on, and we'll see what happens."
But the Skrewts, it transpired, did not hibernate, and did not appreciate being forced into pillow-lined boxes and nailed in. Hagrid was soon yelling Don' panic, now, don' panic! while the Skrewts rampaged around the pumpkin patch, now strewn with the smoldering wreckage of the boxes. Most of the class – Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle in the lead – had fled into Hagrid's cabin through the back door and barricaded themselves in; Harry, Ron, Matilda, and Hermione, however, were among those who remained outside trying to help Hagrid. Together they managed to restrain and tie up nine of the Skrewts, though at the cost of numerous burns and cuts; finally, only one Skrewt was left.
