Harry Potter 03 - Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

their powerful wings; they didn’t seem to like being tethered like this.
    ‘No one?’ said Hagrid, with a pleading look.
    ‘I’ll do it,’ said Harry.
    There was an intake of breath from behind him and both Lavender and Parvati whispered, ‘Oooh, no, Harry, remember your tea leaves!’
    Harry ignored them. He climbed over the paddock fence.
    ‘Good man, Harry!’ roared Hagrid. ‘Right then – let’s see how yeh get on with Buckbeak.’
    He untied one of the chains, pulled the grey Hippogriff away from his fellows and slipped off his leather collar. The class on the other side of the paddock seemed to be holding its breath. Malfoy’s eyes were narrowed maliciously.
    ‘Easy, now, Harry,’ said Hagrid quietly. ‘Yeh’ve got eye contact, now try not ter blink – Hippogriffs don’ trust yeh if yeh blink too much …’
    Harry’s eyes immediately began to water, but he didn’t shut them. Buckbeak had turned his great, sharp head, and was staring at Harry with one fierce orange eye.
    ‘Tha’s it,’ said Hagrid. ‘Tha’s it, Harry … now, bow …’
    Harry didn’t feel much like exposing the back of his neck to Buckbeak, but he did as he was told. He gave a short bow and then looked up.
    The Hippogriff was still staring haughtily at him. It didn’t move.
    ‘Ah,’ said Hagrid, sounding worried. ‘Right – back away, now, Harry, easy does it –’
    But then, to Harry’s enormous surprise, the Hippogriff suddenly bent his scaly front knees, and sank into what was an unmistakeable bow.
    ‘Well done, Harry!’ said Hagrid, ecstatic. ‘Right – yeh can touch him! Pat his beak, go on!’
    Feeling that a better reward would have been to back away, Harry moved slowly towards the Hippogriff and reached out towards him. He patted the beak several times and the Hippogriff closed his eyes lazily, as though enjoying it.
    The class broke into applause, all except for Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, who were looking deeply disappointed.
    ‘Righ’ then, Harry,’ said Hagrid, ‘I reckon he migh’ let yeh ride him!’
    This was more than Harry had bargained for. He was used to a broomstick; but he wasn’t sure a Hippogriff would be quite the same.
    ‘Yeh climb up there, jus’ behind the wing joint,’ said Hagrid, ‘an’ mind yeh don’ pull any of his feathers out, he won’ like that …’
    Harry put his foot on the top of Buckbeak’s wing and hoisted himself onto his back. Buckbeak stood up. Harry wasn’t sure where to hold on; everything in front of him was covered in feathers.
    ‘Go on, then!’ roared Hagrid, slapping the Hippogriff’s hindquarters.
    Without warning, twelve-foot wings flapped open on either side of Harry; he just had time to seize the Hippogriff around the neck before he was soaring upwards. It was nothing like a broomstick, and Harry knew which one he preferred; the Hippogriff’s wings were beating uncomfortably on either side of him, catching him under his legs and making him feel he was about to be thrown off; the glossy feathers slipped under his fingers and he didn’t dare get a stronger grip; instead of the smooth action of his Nimbus Two Thousand, he now felt himself rocking backwards and forwards as the hindquarters of the Hippogriff rose and fell with his wings.
    Buckbeak flew him once around the paddock and then headed back to the ground; this was the bit Harry had been dreading; he leant back as the smooth neck lowered, feeling he was going to slip off over the beak; then he felt a heavy thud as the four ill-assorted feet hit the ground, and just managed to hold on and push himself straight again.
    ‘Good work, Harry!’ roared Hagrid, as everyone except Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle cheered. ‘OK, who else wants a go?’
    Emboldened by Harry’s success, the rest of the class climbed cautiously into the paddock. Hagrid untied the Hippogriffs one by one, and soon people were bowing nervously, all over the paddock. Neville ran repeatedly backwards from his, which didn’t seem to want to bend its knees. Ron and Hermione practised on the chestnut, while Harry watched.
    Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle had taken over Buckbeak. He had bowed to Malfoy, who was now patting his beak, looking disdainful.
    ‘This is very easy,’ Malfoy drawled, loud enough for Harry to hear him. ‘I knew it must have been, if Potter could do it … I bet you’re not dangerous at all, are you?’ he said to the Hippogriff. ‘Are you, you ugly great brute?’
    It happened in a flash of steely