Chapter 41

"I'm getting too old for this," thought Professor McGonnigal. She was sitting at the head of a rather sparsely-populated professors' table in the Great Hall, assuming Dumbledore's place in the headmaster's absence. It was not that this task was not in any way taxing. But Dumbledore had ordered her to watch the school in his absence, and it was the waiting she found difficult. She would much rather have been in the depths of the forest than sitting at a table, listening to the chatter of Umbridge and a few others, including Trelawney, who tonight of all nights had decided she would not have dinner alone, but instead in the Great Hall. McGonnigal suffered in silence as the Divination master made gloomy predictions of Imogen's demise. She could bear the silly woman's inanities, but it was extremely painful for the head of Gryffindor house to think that she might soon learn of the death of yet another Hogwarts student. There had been far too many over the years. The most recent one was that of Cedric Diggory barely six months earlier, and McGonnigal did not think she would ever recover from that.

The news that Imogen was missing, lost in the Forbidden Forest, had come around lunch time, when an injured Neville Longbottom had made his way back to the school, concussed and confused but inquiring most urgently after his friend. Was Imogen here? Had anyone seen her? This led to a quick and thorough search of the school, and when this proved fruitless, search parties had been organized, composed of professors, prefects, the head boy and girl, and a number of the more talented students. They had all left some hours before, and not a word had been heard from them since. And now it was long past nightfall, and heavy clouds had moved in shortly after sunset, all but obliterating the star and moonlight that otherwise would have aided the search.

The Great Hall was much less crowded than usual, and the Gryffindor table was lacking all the upper year students. Neville too was absent from table, but only because he was in the infirmary. He had attempted to sneak out to join the search, but Madam Pomfrey had not needed to stop him. He had fainted and collapsed a few steps from his bed, and the healer did not expect he would be in any shape to join the search until either it had reached a successful conclusion, or, more likely, been abandoned. For the Forbidden Forest was a most dangerous place, only truly safe for wizards when they moved in groups, and deadly for a solitary student. Hagrid's introduction of man-eating spiders some decades early had merely added one more danger to an already vicious place. There were endless ways that a young student could meet her demise. Imogen could be torn to pieces by one of the wolf packs or desanguinated by a vampire. A troll might bludgeon her to death. Hadgrid's spiders might capture her, and taking her to their lair, paralyze her with poison, planting their eggs inside her and leaving her alive for months until the eggs hatched and the young arachnids began to feed. But there were even worse fates than this. McGonnigal could not stop her mind from considering all the various alternatives, and hoped that Imogen would find some way to end her life if faced with one of the more gruesome fates the forest had to offer.

"I'm in the company of the centaurs," whispered Imogen's voice next to her ear.

McGonnigal leaped up, her wand at the ready. Before her was an enormous patronus, one of the biggest she had ever seen, a bull moose with wide, spreading antlers. It towered over everyone.

"What was that?" said McGonnigal, horrified and hoping she has misheard Imogen's patronus.

"I'm in the company of centaurs, and they will be bringing me back. There is nothing you need do for me, and I expect to be home soon." With these words, the silvery patronus shimmered and then lost its form, leaving only a faint cloud which the drafts in the Great Hall quickly dispersed.

McGonnigal excused herself, and fled the hall, struggling to keep her countenance before the students. But she could not entirely maintain control, and tears escaped her as she reached the door. Centaurs! A worse fate could not have befallen a young girl than to have been captured by these half-human creatures. Imogen's message must have been sent with the centaurs' consent, for a witch in their control would have no chance to use magic but with their express permission. McGonnigal could imagine the centaurs laughing to themselves, allowing Imogen to send her naive message before the true conditions of her captivity were made plain to her. 'They will be bringing me back soon enough, ' Imogen's patronus had said. Certainly Imogen would be returned - after she had been inexpressibly degraded, reduced to a plaything and passed from centaur to centaur. Yes, she would be coming back, but nine months from now and only after giving birth to a foal, and only if she survived the experience. Many witches in Imogen's situation preferred not to survive. The centaurs could be the cruelest of all the forest dwellers if the mood was upon them, and Imogen's message was a perfect example. The centaurs had wanted the message delivered, knowing that rescue was impossible, and knowing the agony that Hogwarts would feel, realizing that one of their own was at the beginning of what would be the longest night of her life. Now outside the school's doors, McGonnigal sent her own messenger to Dumbledore.

Hagrid was deep in the forest, accompanied by a number of students including Ron, Anthony Goldstein, Montague, and Draco. Hagrid knew the forest intimately and was familiar with all its night sounds, and he was rather confident he recognized the faint noise coming closer. But out of an abundance of caution, he signalled his group, everyone immediately moving off the path and a few steps into the forest. In a minute Professor Babbling rounded the bend, accompanied by her group of students. Hagrid announced his presence, and stepped back onto the path, his followers in tow.

"All students have been ordered back," said Babbling.

"So she's been found!" exclaimed Hagrid.

"Not found. She has only been - " Babbling paused, searching for the right word. "Not found: located."

"What?" said Hagrid, baffled.

Babbling dropped her voice so the nearby students could not hear what she said. But they all heard Hagrid's astonished intake of breath at whatever Babbling had told him. He turned to his group of students.

"That's it then. Back to school now, and pay attention to wha' Professor Babbling tells ya on the way." The students moved to obey, albeit with some reluctance. All, that is, but Draco.

"Please don't send me back, Professor Hagrid," said Draco. "I can look after myself just fine. Let me go with you."

Ron's irritation at Draco's behavior had been increasing throughout the evening, and this latest remark from the Slytherin prefect almost made him lose his temper. Throughout their time in the forest searching for Imogen, Draco had been at the forefront, at times having to be restrained by Hagrid from surging ahead beyond the group. Ron knew it was all an act; he remembered Draco's craven performance in the forest during first year, when he had practically died of fright. Nothing in the intervening years had given Ron any reasons to think Draco's courage had increased in the slightest. Obviously Draco was comfortable knowing the forest was filled with professors, and felt he could play the part of the brave rescuer.

"No exceptions," said Hagrid, not unkindly. The huge professor had been surprisingly tolerant of Draco throughout the evening. From the way the two had exchanged the odd word, one would never think that Draco had done his level best to get Hagrid dismissed from his post in third year. Perhaps the reason for Hagrid's surprising cheerfulness was the return of Buckbeak to Hogwarts' grounds not long ago. On the previous Saturday, Ron and Hermione had been very surprised when, out on a walk after lunch, they saw the unmistakable form of their favorite hippogriff in its old accustomed spot outside Hagrid's hut. Remembering Hagrid's lesson on how such creatures must be approached, the two had greeted Buckbeak with a measure of deference and caution, after which the creature invited them to approach. Hearing the sounds outside his cabin, Hagrid had emerged to join them.

"Got a letter from the Ministry a couple of weeks back," said Hagrid. "Told me that the death sentence on good old Buckbeak had been revoked. 'Fresh evidence, ' they told me."

"What evidence is that?" asked Hermione. "It must have been pretty convincing for them to change the committee's decision."

"It certainly was convincin'," said Hagrid with a grin, massaging his pet's neck with a powerful hand. "Very powerful evidence indeed. Makes you see the world a different ways sometimes, things like this," he added. Ron and Hermione busied themselves with the hippogriff to avoid observing Hagrid's visible display of emotion. After a long pause Hermione asked Hagrid to tell them what had caused the committee to change its mind. "After all, it was Draco's father that was behind the whole thing. Surely he would have done his best to prevent the sentence being lifted."

This is was certainly true enough. Buckbeak's death sentence had been the punishment inflicted on the poor creature for its attack on Draco during a Care of Magical Creature class in third year. Draco's injury, while not nearly as serious as he had pretended, had not been trivial, and his father had been outraged.