Chapter 455: Malfoy and Astoria
When Wade returned to the scorched stretch of land, he saw at a distance that Hagrid and Nobeta were nowhere to be found, and the students were in disarray.
“Hurry! Help get them over here!”
“Careful—this hurts!”
“Need water? I can cast Fresh Water Spring!”
“What are you waiting for? Move!”
Wade grabbed the arm of a passing student. “What happened?”
“You weren’t here?” Liam looked surprised. Then he shrugged helplessly. “Nobeta sneezed by accident… and then… well, you saw it.” He quickly repaired the robe of a younger student, which had been burned nearly in half.
“Where’s Hagrid?” Wade asked, walking toward the center of the chaos.
“Hagrid had to calm her down after the big Home’s roar startled her. He finally got her back into the cave. He’s probably trying to soothe the beast now,” Liam said.
At that moment, a low, rumbling roar echoed from inside the cave—deep and thunderous, like waves crashing across the sea. For a moment, the entire forest seemed to fall into silence.
After a pause, Wade continued forward. As expected, the worst injuries were on the unfortunate Malfoy.
His wizard robes were half-unbuttoned, and his pale skin was marred by large, horrific burns—blood-red and blackened, a sight that sent shivers through anyone who saw it.
Though most students present didn’t like Slytherins, basic decency and sympathy hadn’t vanished. A small crowd gathered around Malfoy, concerned and fearful. Percy, Penelope, and a few other older students carefully applied healing charms.
Malfoy gritted his teeth, tears streaming down his face, but this time he didn’t shout, “I’ll tell my father!” Instead, he gasped between breaths: “Madam Pomfrey… I need Madam Pomfrey!”
“That’s terrifying!” Hermione said anxiously. “We need to get all the injured to the school infirmary as fast as possible.”
“Don’t worry,” Ron said, trying to sound reassuring. “It’s just a few burns. Madam Pomfrey’ll fix them in no time.”
Malfoy glared at him. “Easy for you to say. It’s not you who’s in agony!”
Ron pointed at Harry. “Harry once broke his arm, and he didn’t whine like a baby. So what’s your excuse, Dr. Malfoy?”
Malfoy’s face twisted in disgust. “Don’t call me that. Who do you think you are?”
“Enough!” Percy suddenly snapped. “One more argument and I’m taking twenty points from your house. I mean it!”
He shot a sharp glare at the youngest of the brothers, then lowered his wand. “We’ve done what we can for now. Let’s get back to school quickly.”
“But Hagrid hasn’t come out,” Penelope frowned. “Without him, we shouldn’t go into the forest on our own.”
“Let me take a look,” Wade said, parting the crowd and approaching Malfoy. He tested the extent of the injury, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a slender crystal vial.
Malfoy watched him with suspicion. “What’s that?” he asked, voice sharp with caution, as Wade uncorked the bottle.
“If your nose still works,” Wade said calmly, “it’s burn salve. To be precise—the best kind.”
He didn’t take offense at Malfoy’s tone, given the circumstances. His voice remained gentle.
Since the Sea Island rescue mission, Wade had received several potions from Professor Snape and Madam Pomfrey—cures for colds, antidotes, wound healers, blood replenishers—each far more effective than anything he’d brewed himself. He simply didn’t have enough time to practice potion-making properly. While his water manipulation was decent among students, it couldn’t compare to a master like Snape.
A pale green liquid oozed from the vial. Wade whispered a quiet incantation. The potion moved on its own, crawling along the burns like a living thing, covering every damaged area.
Within seconds, the redness and swelling receded. The angry red and yellow burns faded into faint pink marks. Bits of charred skin flaked off, and several large blisters the size of thumbs vanished.
“Amazing!” Astoria said brightly. “You’re healing, Malfoy!”
“But my shoulder still hurts!” Malfoy snapped, poking it gently. He yelped instantly.
“Really that painful?” Harry asked, skeptical.
Malfoy’s face twisted in agony. “I hope you’d feel this way, Potter. Then you’d know what it’s like!”
Astoria sighed, both exasperated and puzzled. “Injured, and still trying to provoke? You really don’t fear being thrown into the Forbidden Forest by that beast?”
Though everyone knew Hagrid, as a professor, would never abandon a student, Malfoy paled slightly at the words—his fear, however brief, was real.
“This is a Fire Dragon’s burn,” Wade explained. “The surface skin has healed under the potion, but the deeper layers haven’t. If you avoid touching it, it shouldn’t interfere with normal movement.”
Malfoy hesitated, then slowly pulled his robes back on, standing up and taking a few cautious steps. The searing pain was gone.
He parted his lips, as if to say thanks—but then closed them again.
Before he could speak, Wade was pulled away by others. There were other injured students, though Malfoy’s case was the worst.
Malfoy didn’t dare move too much. He carefully adjusted his clothing, and as the last glimmers of daylight faded, he noticed someone lingering nearby. He turned—only to see Harry.
“Planning to interview me on my suffering?” Malfoy sneered.
“No,” Harry said, awkwardly rubbing his nose. “Malfoy… since you’re healing so fast, you can’t really go tattling to your dad, can you? You know this was completely unexpected…”
This time, Harry did blame Malfoy—after all, Hagrid had repeatedly warned them to respect the Hippogriff, and Malfoy had deliberately provoked Buckbeak. But this time… he’d just been too close to the Fire Dragon’s nose. Hagrid’s responsibility was far greater.
In truth, whether keeping a dangerous Norwegian Ridgeback in the Forbidden Forest, or leading a group of students to get dangerously close to a Fire Dragon, both actions were clear violations of school rules.
Harry realized too late how reckless Hagrid had been. And so, when he asked Malfoy not to report it, his voice lacked conviction.
“I’ll do whatever I want. None of your business, Potter!” Malfoy snapped, cynically.
After shooing away a few Gryffindors, Malfoy kept his distance, leaning on his injured shoulder as he followed the others.
He was silently relieved that Braith and the rest hadn’t arrived—especially not the Weasley Twins. They’d have loved to “accidentally” bump into his wounds.
A small figure approached from behind. Malfoy turned, expecting Harry again—only to see the petite Astoria.
“What?” he frowned. “You here to plead for that giant’s sake?”
“No,” Astoria shook her head. “I know you can’t report it.”
“How do you know I can’t?” Malfoy said, drawing out the words with venom. “I’ll have my father skin her alive. And Hagrid? He’ll lose his job and go to Azkaban!”
If Harry or the others had been there, they’d have started a fight. But Astoria just shook her head again.
“You can’t. You like Nobeta—more than any of us do.”
She said it with certainty. “And even now, you still call her she, not it—or that beast. You’ve always said ‘she’ when talking about the Hippogriff. I’ve heard you say it more than once.”
Malfoy flushed, turning away. After a pause, he asked, “So what do you want? To gloat?”
“I just thought… you might not want to be alone,” Astoria said, walking beside him, hands behind her back. “When everyone else is with their friends…”
She looked straight at him. “Why are you always so cruel to others? Potter and Gray had no ill intent. Neither did I. And even if you don’t like Ron Weasley, his brother just helped treat you.”
Draco Malfoy stared into the clear, steady eyes of the golden-haired girl. For the first time, he felt something long buried—jealousy, resentment, fear, doubt—rise up like a stench from under his bed.
Finally, he muttered, “Do you need a reason to hate someone?”
Astoria didn’t argue. After a pause, she said, “Fine. I can understand that… I have someone I hate too.”
Malfoy stopped walking. “Who?”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she looked up at him, quiet and still.
He stared, puzzled. Then, suddenly, it clicked.
“—Pansy?”
Astoria sighed. “She’s always bullying my sister. But when I told Daphne to stay away from Parkinson, she said the same thing you just did—mind your own business.”
She shook her head. “Why do you all act like this? You know they’re bad friends… but you still can’t let go?”
“Don’t make it sound so simple,” Malfoy snapped. “It’s complicated. You’re just a child.”
Astoria cut straight to the heart of it. “Avoiding friends who make you feel uncomfortable? That doesn’t take much wisdom. You just lack courage.”
Malfoy opened his mouth, speechless. His usual sharp tongue felt rusted, useless.
Just then, Hagrid finally emerged from the cave. His beard was singed, his robes torn in several places.
“All right, children? Everyone okay?” Hagrid scanned the group, his eyes lingering on Malfoy—then relaxed when he saw the students were mostly fine, thanks to Wade’s treatment.
“Alright, back to school. Nobeta’s… uh… not in a good mood right now. Anyone else hurt? Nothing serious?”
He looked at Malfoy again, but Malfoy didn’t respond. He was too slow to realize—he’d forgotten to argue with Astoria. Pansy wasn’t a bad friend. She was the one person in Slytherin who always stood by him.
But as he walked with the group, memories surfaced. The way they’d all treated each other. The way Pansy had defended him. The way he’d mocked others.
And slowly, he admitted—Astoria might be right.
…
Wade stayed at the back, turning a broken branch into a thin wooden panel. He wrote a message on it, then walked to the spot where he’d found the pup wolf, tying the panel to a tree with a rope.
He caught up with the group quickly. Fang bounced beside him, tail wagging.
“Strange…” Hagrid murmured, glancing around. But the thick canopy blocked his view. He saw nothing unusual.
“What’s strange?” Harry asked.
“The Forbidden Forest feels… hotter than usual,” Hagrid said, puzzled. “And you don’t smell it? I swear I can smell roast meat…”
Harry sniffed the air. His stomach growled.
“You’re hungry, Hagrid,” Harry concluded. “And I’m hungry too. The Great Hall dinner can’t be gone yet, right?”
“Don’t worry,” Theo said with a wink. “If we’re late, we’ll go to the kitchen and get something. The house-elves will cook for us.”
He grinned. Harry laughed—thinking of the feast and the cheerful house-elves.
Now, he almost wished the Great Hall would be empty.
The mention of dinner distracted Hagrid completely. His top priority was getting the students back safely.
The return journey was smooth and quiet—too quiet. Normally, the forest hummed with night sounds. Tonight, it was silent, as if even the insects had fallen asleep. Only footsteps and breathing could be heard.
Hagrid grew uneasy, quickening his pace. Only when the lights of the castle appeared in the distance did he finally exhale in relief.
Wade paused, and a sudden flash of flame shot from the darkness of the forest—flickering beside him for an instant, then vanishing.
Wade tucked his pencil case into his pocket, smiling softly at Fang, who stared wide-eyed.
The guard dog tilted his head, then shook himself and dashed toward Hagrid’s hut, flopping onto the staircase as if utterly exhausted.
“All right, dinner time!” Hagrid clapped his hands. “If anyone’s hurt, go see Madam Pomfrey—though I’m sure you all understand. And next week, I want an essay on the Norwegian Ridgeback…”
Amidst groans and complaints, Hagrid smoothly assigned the task and strode toward the castle.
…
Over half an hour later, a hand reached up and removed the wooden panel from the tree. A man in tattered, ragged clothes stood beneath it. Beside him, a white wolf and several wolf pups waited.
After a moment, the white wolf growled and pawed at his leg.
“Stop it. That’s the only pair of pants I’ve got left,” the man rasped.
The wolf whined, its eyes filled with something almost human—worry.
“We can’t enter the castle. We have to choose a message,” the man said, slipping the panel behind his belt.
He turned to a small wolf with amber eyes. “Kalen, tell me exactly what happened.”
(End of Chapter)
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