Chapter 19

As the Great Hall buzzed with the usual morning chaos—students jabbering about their weekend escapades, plates clattering, and owls swooping in with letters—Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott from the Hufflepuff table made their way over to Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Jean. Susan's smile was as bright as a freshly polished cauldron.

"Mind if we join you on the way to Ancient Runes?" she asked, her eyes twinkling.

"Not at all," Hermione replied, her face lighting up. "The more, the merrier."

With a collective shuffle of books and schedules, the group began their trek to the Ancient Runes classroom. The Hogwarts corridors were a whirlwind of activity, students weaving through each other like it was some sort of magical obstacle course.

Ron, lagging behind, waved them off as he headed toward the North Tower for Divination. "Good luck with Ancient Runes," he called back, his tone as dry as last week's toast. "I'll try not to conk out in Trelawney's class."

"Good luck, Ron!" Harry called after him, waving with exaggerated enthusiasm.

As they walked, Hermione launched into a detailed discussion about their upcoming lesson. "I'm really curious about Professor Babbling's introductory lecture," she said, her eyes alight with excitement.

"Me too," Susan agreed, glancing at Harry with what might have been admiration or maybe just an awkward blush. "I heard we're going to start with some seriously complex runic alphabets."

Harry caught Hermione's eye, the same awkward shyness bubbling between him and Jean that seemed to be the hallmark of their friendship—something that felt like it might be on the verge of turning into something more. He cleared his throat and turned to Hermione and Hannah. "By the way, Hermione, Hannah, we've got something we want to talk to you about. Jean, Susan, and I are working on a project. We want to create a trinket for our friend Rogue."

Hannah's eyebrows shot up. "Rogue? I don't think I know her."

Jean jumped in, eager to explain. "Rogue is a friend from Xavier's Institute. She's got a mutation that makes it so she can't touch anyone without draining their powers—or even their life force if she's not careful. Unlike Harry, who's got his abilities under control, Rogue doesn't have that luxury."

Hermione's eyes widened with concern. "That sounds awful. How can you help her?"

Susan took a turn. "We're thinking of using runes. We want to create a magical trinket that can help Rogue manage or even suppress her powers when she needs to."

Harry nodded earnestly. "We were hoping you might have some ideas. You're a whiz with Ancient Runes, and your expertise could really make a difference."

Hermione's face brightened. "That sounds like a challenging but worthwhile project. I'd be happy to help. We'll need to research runes that can bind or regulate her powers. It won't be easy, but with enough effort, I'm sure we can come up with something."

Hannah's face glowed with enthusiasm. "I'd love to help too. It sounds like a fantastic project, and it would be wonderful to do something that could really make a difference for your friend."

Harry felt a surge of gratitude. "Thanks, everyone. Rogue's been struggling with this for ages. If we can help her, it'll mean a lot."

As they arrived at the Ancient Runes classroom, the group was buzzing with renewed energy. The new project had turned an ordinary school day into something far more exciting. Harry and Jean exchanged shy glances, each feeling the awkward tension of their mutual crush. Hermione, meanwhile, was struggling to keep her feelings in check as she watched Harry and Jean's undeniable chemistry. And Susan, well, she couldn't help but admire Harry from a distance, clearly smitten but trying to keep her emotions under wraps.

As they stepped into the classroom, ready to dive into the world of ancient runes and magical research, the day promised to be anything but ordinary. The mix of friendship, new projects, and the ever-present hum of unspoken feelings made for a day that was sure to be as thrilling as it was memorable.

—-

As Harry, Hermione, Jean, Susan, and Hannah entered the Ancient Runes classroom, they were greeted by a scene of organized chaos: desks lined with parchment, quills, and rune stones, and students already in their seats. Daphne Greengrass, Tracey Davis, Padma Patil, Terry Boot, and Blaise Zabini were among the early birds, their expressions ranging from mild curiosity to outright disinterest.

Professor Babbling, who had the kind of intensity that made you think she could probably intimidate a dragon, stood at the front of the room. "Welcome, third years," she said with a voice that managed to be both calm and commanding. "This year, we will delve deeper into the complexities of runic magic. Ancient Runes is not just about translation; it is about understanding the very essence of magical writing and its applications."

Hermione, already buzzing with enthusiasm, had her quill out and poised as if it might sprout wings and fly off at any moment. Harry, scanning the room, noticed Jean's quiet determination, Susan's excited fidgeting, and the ever-present aloofness of Daphne Greengrass. Even Blaise Zabini, who usually looked like he'd rather be anywhere else, seemed vaguely interested.

"Today, we will start with an overview of the Elder Futhark runic alphabet," Professor Babbling continued. "Each rune represents not just a letter but also carries its own magical significance and power."

With a flick of her wand, runes appeared on the blackboard, each one glowing faintly. "For example, Fehu signifies wealth and abundance, while Uruz stands for strength and vitality. Knowing these meanings is crucial for using runes effectively in spellwork."

Daphne Greengrass, ever the picture of dry sarcasm, raised an eyebrow. "Fantastic. More symbols to memorize. Just what I needed to spice up my life." Her tone made it clear that she'd probably rather be doing anything else, like brewing potions or practicing defensive spells—both of which she was actually quite good at.

As Professor Babbling dove into the history and cultural significance of the runes, Hermione's focus was laser-sharp, her notes already turning into a densely packed manuscript. Harry glanced at Jean, who was shooting him shy, sideways glances that made it clear they were both in that awkward, heart-pounding stage of teenage crushes. Harry felt his cheeks flush every time their eyes met, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything.

Susan, sitting next to Harry, glanced at him with what could only be described as starry-eyed admiration. She quickly turned her attention back to her notes, her cheeks turning a faint pink. It was obvious she had a soft spot for Harry, though she was well aware of the growing chemistry between him and Jean.

When the practical part of the lesson began, Professor Babbling distributed small pouches of rune stones. "For your first exercise, familiarize yourselves with these rune stones. Practice drawing them and meditate on their meanings. This will lay the groundwork for your studies this year."

Harry, Jean, and Susan exchanged determined looks. This was exactly the kind of foundational work they needed for their project to help Rogue. Hermione, ever the diligent student, was already sketching runes with meticulous care, her mind clearly buzzing with ideas.

Harry leaned over to Hermione, trying to keep his voice casual. "Do you think these runes could help us with Rogue's trinket?"

Hermione's eyes sparkled with thoughtfulness. "It's possible. We might need runes that focus on control and regulation. Maybe Isa, which represents stasis, could be useful."

Jean nodded in agreement, her eyes shining with resolve. "This is going to be a challenge, but I'm sure we can manage."

Susan added enthusiastically, "And with all of us working together, we'll have a better chance of finding the right combination of runes."

Nearby, Daphne and Tracey were having a quiet, sardonic exchange about the runes, while Padma and Terry debated the implications of runic magic in modern spellwork. Blaise Zabini, with his typical detached demeanor, was drawing each rune with surprising precision.

As the class continued, Professor Babbling moved among the students, offering guidance and answering questions. By the end of the lesson, Harry and his friends were both exhausted and exhilarated by the possibilities of runic magic.

As they packed up their things, Professor Babbling announced, "For your homework, write a short essay on the historical significance and magical properties of one rune. This will help deepen your understanding and prepare you for more advanced work."

The students filed out, chatting animatedly about the day's lesson. Harry, Hermione, Jean, Susan, and Hannah walked together, their minds racing with ideas for their project and the exciting year ahead.

"Ancient Runes is going to be amazing," Hermione said, her eyes alight with excitement.

Harry nodded, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervous energy. "And who knows? We might just find the key to helping Rogue."

With a renewed sense of purpose and camaraderie, they headed to their next class, ready to tackle whatever adventures and discoveries awaited them.

—

As Harry, Hermione, Jean, Susan, and Hannah left the Ancient Runes classroom, Harry's enhanced hearing picked up a conversation behind him. He turned slightly and saw Tracey Davis, her face lined with concern, speaking earnestly to Daphne Greengrass. Daphne, ever the picture of dry sarcasm, seemed unusually unsettled.

"Daphne, you really should talk to Professor Snape about the problems you're having," Tracey said, her tone earnest but gently insistent. "He's your Head of House; he can help."

Daphne responded with a sigh and a roll of her eyes. "Oh, absolutely. Let's just add 'personal therapy session' to my already overflowing schedule. I'm sure he'll find time between brewing potions and glaring at students."

Harry's curiosity was officially piqued. He slowed his pace, making sure Jean, who had noticed his distraction, was following closely. "What's up?" she whispered.

"Something's going on with Daphne," Harry replied. "Let's hang back and see if we can find out more."

They lingered near the corridor, trying to stay unobtrusive while listening in.

"Complicated how?" Tracey pressed, concern evident in her voice. "You've been acting odd lately, and I'm genuinely worried about you."

Daphne sighed again, this time with dramatic flair. "Well, let me think. Maybe because my life has turned into a series of unfortunate events featuring uncontrollable magical energy and bizarre incidents that make me feel like I'm in a bad novel?"

Harry, now fully engrossed, exchanged a look with Jean and Susan. Their expressions mirrored his unease.

Without waiting any longer, Harry approached Daphne and Tracey. "Hey, Daphne, Tracey," he started gently, "I couldn't help but overhear. Daphne, can we talk for a moment?"

Daphne's eyebrows shot up. "Potter. Fancy meeting you here. Sure, let's talk. Maybe you can explain why my life feels like a chaotic mess of magical anomalies."

Jean and Susan joined them, offering warm, reassuring smiles. Hermione and Hannah exchanged curious glances but wisely kept their distance, sensing the gravity of the situation.

Harry led Daphne a few steps away from the main group. "Daphne, I think I might know what you're going through," he said softly. "I think your X-gene might have awakened."

Daphne blinked, clearly confused. "X-gene? I didn't realize I was auditioning for a character in a fantasy novel."

Jean stepped forward, her tone both sympathetic and matter-of-fact. "It's true. The X-gene gives some people special abilities—like mutations, but with a magical twist. It's something that happens to people like us. We're not exactly the poster children for normality."

Daphne's expression shifted from confusion to a mixture of relief and skepticism. "Well, this is a plot twist I didn't see coming. I've been having these... 'strange occurrences' for weeks now, and I didn't know who to turn to."

Susan's smile was as warm as ever. "We're here to help you, Daphne. We'll figure this out together. No one has to go through this alone."

Tracey, who had been silently absorbing the conversation, nodded in agreement. "Whatever it is, Daphne, we've got your back. We'll tackle this together."

Harry nodded, feeling a sense of purpose. "Let's talk more after classes. We can meet somewhere private and figure out our next steps."

Daphne took a deep breath, her usual sarcasm replaced by genuine relief. "Thanks, Potter. And thank you, everyone. I didn't expect this, but it's good to know I'm not dealing with this alone."

As they rejoined the others, Harry felt a renewed sense of determination. Supporting Rogue was crucial, but helping Daphne navigate her newfound abilities was just as important. Together, they would face whatever challenges came their way.

With a sense of camaraderie and resolve, they headed to their next class, ready to face the day's adventures and discoveries with a united front.

—

As Ron and the rest of the third-year crowd ambled out of Divination, the buzz was palpable. Professor Trelawney had once again unleashed one of her cryptic prophecies, leaving everyone guessing and second-guessing their futures.

Ron, in his usual style, was slouched next to Neville, who was already fumbling with his bag, which looked like it had been through a blender. "Can you believe Trelawney?" Ron said, shaking his head with a grin. "She said you're about to face some 'great change.' Maybe she thinks you're going to save the day or something."

Neville's face was a study in worry, his attempts to keep his bag from spilling its contents were failing spectacularly. "I don't know what she meant. What kind of change? What if it's something bad?"

Dean, ever the optimist, piped up with a grin. "Maybe she thinks you're going to become a celebrity wizard overnight."

Seamus chuckled. "Or that you'll suddenly master every potion in the book. Who knows with her?"

Neville's unease was only growing as his bag teetered on the edge of disaster. "But what if it's something dangerous? She kept saying, 'a great power within you will awaken.' What if I end up causing trouble?"

Hermione, who had just slipped into the group after her secretive jaunt to Divination with her Time-Turner, joined the conversation. She looked as calm as ever, though she was trying hard not to let her recent adventure show. "Divination is notoriously vague, Neville. It's like trying to predict the weather by reading tea leaves. But if something strange does start happening, remember that you have us."

Ron, trying to be encouraging despite his own doubts, clapped Neville on the back. "Yeah, mate. We're all in this together. Besides, Trelawney's predictions are usually just random mumbo-jumbo."

As they moved down the corridor, they bumped into Harry, Jean, Susan, and Hannah, who were also headed to their next class. Seeing Neville's worried expression, Harry asked, "What's up, Neville?"

Ron quickly filled them in. "Trelawney gave Neville one of her 'prophecies.' She said he's in for some kind of big change, like a great power awakening inside him."

Harry and Jean exchanged a knowing look. "That sounds familiar," Jean said with a hint of concern.

Harry approached Neville, his expression a mix of seriousness and reassurance. "Neville, do you remember any more details? Anything else she said?"

Neville thought hard while trying to keep his bag intact. "She mentioned a great power and a significant change. That's about all I remember."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "There's something you should know. Jean, Susan, and I have abilities that are a bit different from regular magic. It's due to something called the X-gene. Trelawney might be hinting that yours is about to awaken."

Neville's eyes widened, and he almost lost his grip on his bag. "X-gene? What's that?"

Jean stepped in with a reassuring smile. "It means you might have a special ability. It can be overwhelming at first, but you're not alone. We're here to help you."

Hermione, her eyes showing a touch of the fatigue from her time-traveling adventure, added, "We should keep an eye out for anything unusual. If anything happens, let us know immediately."

Ron, still skeptical but loyal as ever, gave Neville a thumbs up. "Yeah, Neville. We're here for you. And who knows? Maybe you'll discover something really cool."

Neville managed a shaky smile. "Thanks, everyone. I guess we'll just have to see what happens."

As they headed off to their next class, the weight of Trelawney's prophecy hung in the air. Despite Neville's reputation for clumsiness and his shy demeanor, his bravery was second to none. With friends like Harry, Jean, and Susan, Neville felt a bit more ready to face whatever the future held. After all, Hogwarts had a way of throwing unexpected challenges their way, and with this crew by his side, he felt he could handle whatever came next.

—

After lunch, the students made their way to the edge of the Forbidden Forest for their first Care of Magical Creatures class. Excitement buzzed through the crowd like a Quidditch stadium on game day. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Jean, Neville, and Susan strolled together, chatting about what strange beasts Hagrid might have cooked up for them today.

Nearby, Draco Malfoy, flanked by his loyal henchmen Crabbe and Goyle, strutted like a peacock. Pansy Parkinson tagged along, sneering at everyone in sight. "Here we go," Ron muttered, shooting a wary glance at Malfoy. "I bet he's just itching to cause trouble."

Hagrid, the half-giant professor with a heart of gold (and a rather odd idea of what constitutes a 'pet'), appeared from behind his hut, waving a hand the size of a dustbin lid. "Gather 'round, everyone! We're in fer a treat today!" His booming voice could've probably carried all the way to the Astronomy Tower.

The students gathered around, their curiosity piqued. "First off, open yer books ter page twenty-four," Hagrid instructed, holding up his copy of *The Monster Book of Monsters*, which looked like it was ready to launch a full-scale attack on anyone foolish enough to get too close.

Draco Malfoy, always quick with a snarky remark, raised his book, which was securely belted shut. "And how exactly are we supposed to open these without losing a finger?" he drawled, looking far too pleased with himself.

Hagrid's face turned the color of a ripe tomato. "Er, well, yeh see…"

Before Hagrid could get too flustered, Harry stepped up, book in hand. "It's easy, really," he said, catching the class's attention. "You just have to stroke its spine. Like this."

Harry demonstrated, gently running his fingers down the spine of his book. The book shuddered for a moment, then relaxed and opened quietly, like a cat purring after a good scratch.

"See? No need for belts or ropes," Harry said, flashing a reassuring smile.

The other students followed his lead, carefully stroking the spines of their books. One by one, the books stopped snapping and settled down, opening quietly. Even Malfoy, though clearly annoyed, grudgingly copied Harry's actions and managed to open his book without incident.

Hagrid beamed, relieved and grateful. "Tha's right! Well done, Harry. Now, with yer books open, let's get on with our lesson."

As Hagrid started explaining more about Hippogriffs and their care, Harry noticed Hermione giving him an approving nod. Ron leaned over, whispering, "Nice save, mate."

Jean leaned in closer to Harry and whispered, "You handled that well, Harry."

Harry felt a sudden warmth in his chest, like he'd just swallowed a mouthful of hot chocolate. He glanced at Jean, noticing the sparkle in her eyes. He quickly looked away, his face turning pinker than a pygmy puff.

Meanwhile, Hagrid led the group to a large paddock where a herd of majestic Hippogriffs grazed peacefully. Their eagle-like heads turned curiously as the students approached, their horse-like bodies sturdy and imposing. Hagrid beamed proudly, gesturing toward the creatures.

"Here we are, class! Meet our Hippogriffs. Beautiful creatures, they are. Respectful and proud. Now, remember what we discussed earlier about approachin' them gently."

Harry tore his gaze away from Jean to focus on the impressive creatures before him, listening intently as Hagrid explained how to approach and interact with Hippogriffs safely.

"Now, who's up fer a bit o' hands-on experience?" Hagrid's booming voice filled the air as he scanned the group of students. "Let's start with Buckbeak here. Who's brave enough to approach?"

Several students hesitated, casting uncertain glances at each other. Harry noticed their hesitation and felt a surge of determination. Stepping forward, he raised his hand. "I'll do it, Hagrid," he volunteered confidently.

Hagrid grinned, nodding approvingly. "Good on ya, Harry! Remember, just like we discussed. Bow first, and if Buckbeak bows back, yer safe to approach."

Harry took a steadying breath as he approached Buckbeak, feeling the weight of the Hippogriff's gaze on him. He bowed deeply, waiting anxiously. Buckbeak observed him for a moment, then dipped its head in acknowledgment.

Heartened by the gesture, Harry slowly advanced, his movements deliberate and respectful. He reached out tentatively, stroking the Hippogriff's feathery mane. Buckbeak let out a low, rumbling noise, seemingly pleased with Harry's gentle touch.

"Well done, Harry!" Hagrid's voice boomed with pride. "Yeh've got a way with creatures, jus' like yer mum."

Encouraged by Hagrid's praise, Harry beamed with pride. He watched as Hagrid approached him with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Yeh've grown a fair bit since yer first year, haven't ya?" Hagrid chuckled as he hoisted Harry up, which took a bit more effort now that Harry wasn't a skinny little boy anymore.

Harry laughed along with Hagrid's comment, feeling the familiar rush of excitement as he found himself seated on Buckbeak's back. He glanced over at Hagrid, who wore a knowing grin.

"I reckon Buckbeak here might just take you on a little flight, Harry," Hagrid declared, his voice filled with anticipation.

Harry's heart raced with exhilaration as he held onto Buckbeak's feathery mane, ready for the adventure ahead. Hagrid's words echoed in his mind as Buckbeak took a few cautious steps backward, preparing for a running start. The Hippogriff's powerful wings unfurled, catching the wind as it picked up speed.

With a mighty leap, Buckbeak launched into the air. Harry's stomach dropped momentarily before a rush of pure excitement took over. The ground fell away beneath them, and Harry clung tightly to Buckbeak's mane, feeling the exhilarating sensation of flight.

They soared higher and higher, the castle and grounds shrinking below them. Harry glanced back, catching glimpses of his friends and classmates below, their faces a mix of awe and envy. Buckbeak's wings beat rhythmically, carrying them effortlessly through the crisp Hogwarts air.

Harry's worries and stresses melted away as he experienced the freedom of flying alongside such a magnificent creature. He couldn't help but grin wildly, overwhelmed by the sheer thrill of the moment. As they circled above the castle, Harry felt a deep connection with Buckbeak and a sense of gratitude toward Hagrid for this unforgettable experience.

—

Here's a rewrite of the passage in a Rick Riordan-inspired style, incorporating the dynamic between Harry and Jean:

---

After a thrilling flight, Buckbeak gently touched down in the paddock, landing as softly as a feather falling on a pillow. Harry dismounted with the grace of a new-born deer—his legs wobbled like jelly, but he managed to stick the landing. Buckbeak turned his majestic head to gaze at Harry, and if a Hippogriff could look smug, this one did. Harry patted Buckbeak affectionately, feeling a sense of wonder at the connection they'd formed during their brief yet exhilarating adventure.

As he stroked Buckbeak's feathers, Harry felt a subtle surge of energy pulsing through him, like he'd just downed a Butterbeer mixed with lightning. It was a familiar sensation, a sign that his mutation—his ability to absorb the abilities and strengths of magical creatures he connected with—was kicking in. Being a magical mutant like Jean and the others, Harry had grown used to this kind of thing, though it still amazed him every time.

"Thanks, Buckbeak," Harry whispered, his voice full of gratitude and awe. The Hippogriff nudged him with its beak, an affectionate gesture that said, "You're welcome, kid." 

Harry glanced back at his friends, who were all staring at him as if he'd just tamed a dragon. And in the middle of the group, there was Jean, her eyes wide with admiration. The moment their eyes met, Harry felt his heart do a weird flip-flop, like it was trying to perform acrobatics without his permission.

He knew Jean was watching, and the knowledge made his face heat up like he'd been sunbathing next to a Blast-Ended Skrewt. Sure, they were only thirteen, but Harry was pretty sure that when you liked someone, it made your brain go all fuzzy, and you forgot how to act normal.

Meanwhile, Jean stood there, feeling a mix of awe and, well, something else she couldn't quite name. Her face was a bit pink too, and she hoped her friends wouldn't notice. She was pretty sure that if she tried to talk to Harry right now, her words would come out like a scrambled message from a busted radio.

With a final pat, Harry reluctantly stepped away from Buckbeak, the remnants of adrenaline still tingling in his veins. He turned to face his friends, doing his best to look cool and collected, even though his insides were doing the Macarena.

"That was wicked, Harry!" Ron exclaimed, his eyes wide with envy. "Flying on a Hippogriff? That's something to tell your grandkids about!"

"Yeah, that was amazing," Hermione agreed, her expression a mix of admiration and worry. "But be careful, Harry. You know Hagrid's creatures can be unpredictable."

Jean nodded, her gaze still fixed on Harry. "You were really brave," she said softly, her voice carrying a note of sincerity that made Harry's face turn even redder.

"Thanks," Harry mumbled, shuffling his feet awkwardly. "It was nothing, really." He glanced at Jean again, wondering if she'd noticed how his voice had cracked a little. Knowing his luck, she probably had.

As the group moved on to their next class, Harry couldn't help but feel a little lighter. He'd flown on a Hippogriff and survived, which was pretty cool. But even cooler was the way Jean had looked at him, like he was more than just the Boy Who Lived. Like he was something special.

And in that moment, Harry knew that no matter how weird and awkward things got, he wouldn't trade these experiences for anything. Not even a lifetime supply of Chocolate Frogs.

—

Seeing Harry succeed, the rest of the class felt their confidence level rise—kind of like that moment when you realize maybe you won't actually fall off the broom in your first flying lesson. The students were buzzing with excitement as they took turns approaching the Hippogriffs, following Harry's example of bowing and waiting for a sign of acceptance.

But, of course, Draco Malfoy had to be, well, Draco Malfoy. He strutted over with a swagger that suggested he thought he was cooler than a dragon's backside in winter. With a sneer plastered across his face, he stared down at Buckbeak like the Hippogriff was an inferior being (clearly, Draco had never met a mirror he didn't like).

"You're not so special, are you?" Draco drawled, with all the charm of a wet sock. "Just a stupid animal." 

Before you could say "bad idea," Draco stepped closer and hurled another insult at Buckbeak. "You think you're so great because Potter managed to ride you? You're nothing but a dangerous beast."

Buckbeak's reaction was about as predictable as Ron Weasley raiding a candy store. The Hippogriff reared back, his wings flaring, looking every bit like a mythical creature that was ready to turn Malfoy into a human piñata. The air shifted from electrified excitement to sudden dread. Hagrid, who had been watching proudly, turned as pale as Nearly Headless Nick's favorite sheet.

"Draco, back off! Show some respect!" Hagrid called out, his voice booming but tinged with a tinge of panic.

Too little, too late. Buckbeak snapped his beak and lunged, his fierce gaze locked onto Draco, who suddenly looked like he was regretting every life choice that led him to this moment. 

From across the paddock, Harry felt a jolt of urgency like he'd just remembered he had a potions essay due yesterday. With Hagrid's instructions playing in his head on repeat, he dashed forward. "Malfoy, bow! Now!" Harry yelled, trying to sound both authoritative and not at all like he was internally panicking.

But Draco was frozen like a deer in wandlight, and Buckbeak was closing in. The rest of the class looked on, half-expecting to witness the world's first wizarding rodeo disaster.

Jean Grey, who had been standing next to Harry, knew she had to do something. Focusing her telekinetic powers (something she was usually pretty good at hiding), she gave Draco a gentle telekinetic shove, steering him backward and out of Buckbeak's immediate path of destruction. 

Meanwhile, Harry positioned himself between Draco and Buckbeak, his heart racing like he'd just drunk a gallon of liquid luck. "Easy, Buckbeak," he said, his voice steady despite the chaotic storm brewing inside him. "He didn't mean it. Please, calm down."

Buckbeak hesitated, his eyes darting between Harry and the cowering Draco. The air seemed to crackle as if a wizard duel might break out at any second. Sensing Harry needed a little more help, Jean sent calming thoughts towards the Hippogriff, silently urging the creature to stand down. 

"Peace, Buckbeak. We mean no harm," she thought, hoping Buckbeak could feel the sincerity behind her words.

Slowly, Buckbeak's tense posture relaxed, the fire in his eyes dimming. The situation defused like a particularly awkward family dinner that somehow didn't end in a screaming match. Buckbeak backed off, though he kept a wary eye on Draco as if to say, "One more word, and you're dinner."

Hagrid, his face a mix of relief and sheepishness, hurried over to Draco, who was busy trying to look like he hadn't just nearly soiled himself. "That's enough excitement for today, I reckon," Hagrid mumbled, gently steering Draco away from the paddock. Hagrid might've looked like he could wrestle a troll, but when it came to his students, he was about as soft as a giant marshmallow.

The other students began to relax, their whispers and giggles filling the air as they marveled at Harry and Jean's quick thinking. Some of them exchanged glances, clearly impressed by the dynamic duo's ability to keep their heads cool under pressure. Harry and Jean, meanwhile, shared a shy smile, their cheeks turning as red as a Gryffindor scarf. Both of them knew they were crushing on each other harder than a Sphinx's riddle but were way too awkward to admit it. For now, they'd settle for saving each other from magical mayhem—one Hippogriff at a time.

---

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