After fixing the time of their first full practice

After fixing the time of their first full practice for the following Thursday, Harry, Ron, and Hermione bade goodbye to the rest of the team and headed off toward

Hagrid's. A watery sun was trying to break through the clouds now and it had stopped drizzling at last. Harry felt extremely hungry; he hoped there would be something

to eat at Hagrid's.

“I thought I was going to miss that fourth penalty,” Ron was saying happily. “Tricky shot from Demelza, did you see, had a bit of spin on it —”

“Yes, yes, you were magnificent,” said Hermione, looking amused.

“I was better than that McLaggen anyway,” said Ron in a highly satisfied voice. “Did you see him lumbering off in the wrong direction on his fifth? Looked like he'd

been Confunded. ...”

To Harry's surprise, Hermione turned a very deep shade of pink at these words. Ron noticed nothing; he was too busy describing each of his other penalties in loving

detail.

The great gray hippogriff, Buckbeak, was tethered in front of Hagrid's cabin. He clicked his razor-sharp beak at their approach and turned his huge head toward them.

“Oh dear,” said Hermione nervously. “He's still a bit scary, isn't he?”

“Come off it, you've ridden him, haven't you?” said Ron. Harry stepped forward and bowed low to the hippogriff without breaking eye contact or blinking. After a few

seconds, Buckbeak sank into a bow too.

“How are you?” Harry asked him in a low voice, moving forward to stroke the feathery head. “Missing him? But you're okay here with Hagrid, aren't you?”

“Oi!” said a loud voice.

Hagrid had come striding around the corner of his cabin wearing a large flowery apron and carrying a sack of potatoes. His enormous boarhound, Fang, was at his heels;

Fang gave a booming bark and bounded forward.

“Git away from him! He'll have yer fingers—oh. It's yeh lot.”

Fang was jumping up at Hermione and Ron, attempting to lick their ears. Hagrid stood and looked at them all for a split second, then turned and strode into his cabin,

slamming the door behind him.

“Oh dear!” said Hermione, looking stricken.

“Don't worry about it,” said Harry grimly. He walked over to the door and knocked loudly.

“Hagrid! Open up, we want to talk to you!”

There was no sound from within.

“If you don't open the door, we'll blast it open!” Harry said, pulling out his wand.

“Harry!” said Hermione, sounding shocked. “You can't possibly —”

“Yeah, I can!” said Harry. “Stand back —”

But before he could say anything else, the door flew open again as Harry had known it would, and there stood Hagrid, glowering down at him and looking, despite the

flowery apron, positively alarming.

“I'm a teacher!” he roared at Harry. “A teacher, Potter! How dare yeh threaten ter break down my door!”

“I'm sorry, sir,” said Harry, emphasizing the last word as he stowed his wand inside his robes.

Hagrid looked stunned. “Since when have yeh called me ‘sir'?”

“Since when have you called me ‘Potter'?”

“Oh, very clever,” growled Hagrid. “Very amusin'. That's me outsmarted, innit? All righ', come in then, yeh ungrateful little...”