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"Hagrid, we should've helped as well -- sorry --" Harry began awkwardly.
Their second to last exam, on Thursday morning, was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Lupin had compiled the most unusual exam any of them had ever taken; a sort of obstacle course outside in the sun, where they had to wade across a deep paddling pool containing a grindylow, cross a series of potholes full of Red Caps, squish their way across a patch of marsh while ignoring misleading directions from a hinkypunk, then climb into an old trunk and battle with a new boggart.
"They can't do this," said Harry. "They can't. Buckbeak isn't dangerous."
"Crookshanks!" Hermione moaned. "No, go away, Crookshanks! Go away!"
Harry looked around to check that Hermione was well out of earshot.
"You fool," said Lupin softly. "Is a schoolboy grudge worth putting an innocent man back inside Azkaban?"
He broke off; they reached the corridor where the security trolls were pacing, and Hermione was walking toward them. One look at her face convinced Harry that she had heard what had happened. His heart plummeted -- had she told Professor McGonagall?
Hagrid was already waiting for them.
Harry followed him downstairs, trying to wipe his hands clean on the inside of his robes without Snape noticing. They walked down the stairs to the dungeons and then into Snape's office.
"I am delighted that Gryffindor won the match, but this is getting ridiculous! Percy, I expected better of you!"
She and Harry looked at each other, then followed at a sprint; it ""as impossible to run full out under the cloak; they pulled it off and it streamed behind them like a banner as they hurtled after Ron; they could hear his feet thundering along ahead and his shouts at Crookshanks.
"You should have left him to me...."
Harry felt a nasty pang of guilt. He had completely forgotten that Buckbeak's trial was so near, and judging by the uneasy look on Ron's face, he had too. They had also forgotten their promise about helping him prepare Buckbeak's defense; the arrival of the Firebolt had driven it clean out of their minds.
"IT WILL HAPPEN TONIGHT."
"No blood? No weeping Hagrid?"