were coated in a blanket of snow no more than two days later as the week began once again.

The owls swooped in with packages and letters as well as those with Daily Prophet, shivering as they shook their feathers and dropped snow and droplets of water over the students sat eating breakfast.

Unlike the barn owls that looked like brown icicles, the handsome eagle owl caught the attention of several students before it descended gracefully on the Slytherin table.

"Aha! I was wondering whether mother had forgotten about these," Draco Malfoy says, a satisfied smirk twisting up his lips as he abandoned his breakfast and untied the parcel and two letters. The owl ruffled its feathers proudly once free of the weight and took off.

However, the condition of the packaging and the envelops suggested one thing and Draco's smirk dropped at once.

"Oooh, someone's mail has been checked," Pansy Parkinson points out teasingly from his right as she opened her own perfectly wrapped parcel. Theodore Nott smirked at her, finding her amusing, whilst Blaise Zabini sipped on his coffee wordlessly. Daphne, who was sitting next to Pansy, had her eyes glued to the Gryffindor table again.

"How dare they - it's got to be Filch, that filthy squib. I'm going to speak about this to the High Inquisitor first thing after breakfast," Draco snarls under his breath, now tearing apart the packaging haphazardly. His smirk that was gone returned to his face once again. "It's calisson, freshly imported from France. I love these..."

Opening up the cream box, hiding it away on his lap from the hungry eyes of Crabbe and Goyle, he took a bite and made a show of chewing and moaning appreciatively, making sure everyone in the vicinity knew he had been, once again, sent the best parcel from home.

"So good... So very good," he says, wiping his mouth with a napkin. Holding out the box to Blaise, he offers him some, "Here, want one?"

Blaise shook his head and gestured at his mug of coffee, barely suppressing a knowing smile. Draco shrugged, shifting the box to Theo, who reached forward to take one of the royal candies but before his fingers could even brush the air above them, Draco pulled it away.

"Nah, I change my mind. More for me," he smirks as Theo scowled and Pansy burst into a shriek of laughter. "Very well, then. Let's see..."

The first letter was ripped open in a similar fashion, summarised aloud by Draco as it was small and from his mother who had written on the behalf of his father as well.

"She says father's busy in a classified task with the Ministry," Draco tells his friends conspiringly, an air of such importance around him that even Blaise seemed to have abandoned his coffee to lean forward and listen to him. "The Minister of Magic is very pleased. I reckon he's been giving more donation... I can't be sure, but he's nominated for Order of Merlin, Third Class, this year too. I personally think he deserves first, but father's always said he'd likely have all three before he turns fifty."

Crabbe and Goyle hung onto Draco's every word, looking deeply impressed, whilst Theo and Blaise exchanged looks that gave nothing away. Pansy added to the praises of Lucius Malfoy, turning to Daphne, who nodded without listening.

For what it was worth, Draco Malfoy did not tell his friends what the PS had stated, a clear reply to the letter he had sent specifically to his mother. He glanced down at it one more time before he folded up the letter and stuffed it back into the envelope.

𝓟𝓢: 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝓸𝓯 𝓯𝓵𝓪𝓿𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓵𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓼𝓾𝓰𝓪𝓻 𝓬𝓮 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓮𝓵𝓼 𝓼𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓫𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓽𝓸 𝔂𝓸𝓾. 𝐹𝑜𝓇𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝑒, 𝐼'𝓋𝑒 𝓇𝓊𝓃 𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝒾𝓃𝓀.

Draco's grey eyes scanned the staff table catching the sight of the bright pink cardigan of Dolores Umbridge. No one noticed the nasty glare he shot her, his friends thinking he was glaring at the incoming giant figure of Hagrid.

"The oaf's back," Theo tells them nonchalantly, watching as several Gryffindors run down the aisle between the tables to go shake his massive hand.

Draco made no comment as his attention was diverted by the second envelope. He had not received an owl from this particular person in a while, the last he received was before the third task of the Triwizard Tournament. Then they had spent several days of summer holidays together. Draco Malfoy would even go as far as to admit that they were friends.

With his spirits lifted, an unlikely genuine grin stretched across Draco's face, and it was this, more than anything else, that grabbed Blaise's full attention.

"Who's that from?" Blaise asks as indifferently as possible, his hazel eyes gleaming.

"Reply from an old family friend," Draco answers shortly, this time carefully unfolding the letter.

Draco,

It was good to receive your owl, it got sort of lonely in Cokeworth. I'd have written back sooner but I was moving, ya see. I've been invited to live with your parents at the Manor for the time being.

I never realised the place was so big; now that I have the time to explore. How do you not lose your way in here? Reminds me a bit of my own home too. The house-elves are kind, though I don't see much of them, and the library is endless... and dark.

This early snow's started gathering round on the grounds and I was able to get out to skate on the ice of the frozen pond behind the Manor. The peacocks are harder to spot now, and one took great pleasure in startling me... Nevertheless, it was fun. Perhaps I'll teach you how to skate when you come back for Christmas.

So, how's Hogwarts, eh? Same as usual? Has famous Harry Potter gotten into anything illegal yet? Have you?

Speaking of Hogwarts, I've been wondering about visiting. No promises, because old man's forbidden me to set a foot into the school; says I'm still a newfie. Maybe I'll convince him this time.

Your mother has kindly rented me your owl to send this, although I suppose she's going to be sending those calisson she's ordered from France as well. I got poutine. Considerate as usual, she thought I might like it. She was right.

Write soon, and maybe you can tell me about that girl who's been getting on your nerves... What's that? Am I sensing a... crush?!

Alright, sorry. Gave me a good laugh, though. Do tell me more. At least give me her name LOL (laugh out loud is an expression, you old man).

Cheerio,

max.

"Max? Who's Max?" asks Pansy who had just taken a peek at the end of the letter.

Draco pulled it out of her sight and folded it up, his heart thudding in his chest.

"None of your business," he snaps at her, and she backs away, giving him a snide look that suggested he would have to apologise before she would speak to him again.

However, he was only glad that she had not read the sentence just above because he was sure she would have thought it was her the letter was referring to. He would have to make it quite plain in his reply that there was no need to tease him pathetically, as Draco Malfoy had better things to do than have crushes.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, Ronald, I don't know what Hagrid has been up to all this time," Margaret snarls, fed up of Ron shooting her meaningful glances while she was trying to enjoy her pancakes.

"She's right, Ron. Hagrid's the only one who could tell us," Hermione says, pushing the food around on her plate absentmindedly as she scanned her copy of the Daily Prophet.

"Any theories?" Margaret asks, pretending to be oblivious for once.

"Well, when we caught a glimpse of him, he looked very injured," Harry tells her.

"Umbridge might inspect his class today," Hermione says while folding up the newspaper and instead staring at the plate in front of her as though it was see-through. Suddenly as though the plate had solved an enigma, Hermione's eyes widen. "My goodness, Umbridge!"

"What about her?" Ron asks warily, mouth half-full with food.

"She'd want to inspect Hagrid's lessons! And we know she hates half-breeds," Hermione breathes in a horrified whisper. "Oh Merlin, oh no... Oh no, no, no..."

"Hermione?" Harry says, looking worried at his friend's behaviour. "You think she would want to sack him so quickly?"

"Oh, Harry, she'd do everything in her power to!" Hermione says in a hollow voice. "We have to warn him, we have to tell him to- to stick to harmless flabberworms or something; if he brings something dangerous-"

"He won't," Margaret interrupts, frowning at her panicking friend.

"He won't?" Hermione turns on her, a pleading look in her eyes that insinuated that she wanted nothing more than for Margaret to confirm this.

Margaret shook her head, wiping her mouth with a napkin. "No, he won't. I'm sure Dumbledore's already warned Hagrid of Umbridge's tactics, he'll be fine - oh, look, here he comes now."

Sure enough, Hagrid had shuffled up to the staff table up front.

The students immediately took notice of him, seeing as he towered at the great height of eight and a half feet. Several Gryffindors around them cheered and got to their feet, abandoning their breakfasts to run up the aisle between the tables to shake Hagrid's hand and welcome him back. Fred and George with their best friend Lee were the first to reach, and soon enough Harry, Ron and Hermione followed. Margaret, however, smiled at their enthusiasm and stayed in her seat.

Hagrid had returned from the mission Dumbledore had sent him on, but Harry, Ron and Hermione had not gotten a chance to go see him yet.

It was Monday now and Margaret would be lying if she said she was not looking forward to meeting the infamous Hagrid. In fact, out of all the people she had met so far, she had always been rather excited about meeting the man who was as much of a father figure to Harry as Sirius was.

There had been an incessant snowfall over the weekend, many mentioning how it was a good thing that it hadn't snowed during the much-awaited Quidditch match on Saturday.

It was after lunch that same day when Harry, Ron and Hermione trudged a little behind Margaret rather anxiously through snow as they made their way to Hagrid's hut for Care of Magical Creatures. All of them wearing at least three layers of clothing to keep themselves warm.

The trio was reasonably anxious about the Hagrid's inspection; however, the High Inquisitor was nowhere in sight as Hagrid stood awaiting them all on the edge of the forest, much to the increased nervousness of the three.

First glance at him was enough to tell Margaret that he had had a rough journey indeed. His heavily bearded face was covered in cuts that were tinged yellow and green, whilst some still looked like they were bleeding and one of his eyes was swollen shut. To complete the gruesome picture, he had half a carcass of a dead cow swung over his shoulder.

"Hagrid!" Harry says as he picks up his pace to reach the half-giant. "You've got to-"

"There yeh are, 'Arry," Hagrid greets cheerfully, interrupting whatever Harry was going to say next and turning to Margaret. "An' this must be Mar'gret! Dumbledore speaks very highly o' you!"

Surprised by the sudden revelation, all Margaret could do was nod and grin as Hagrid took her hand into a handshake so powerfull that it felt like it was going to break her whole arm.

"Any friend o' Harry's a friend o' mine," Hagrid says sincerely, evidently underestimating his strength before letting go of her arm that she started massaging instantly. Something caught his eye and he looked over them all.

Many other students of their year were making their way down the slope, all quite excited to be out in the snow as some made snowballs and threw it at their friends, laughing and enjoying. However, the closer they got to Hagrid's hut, the more they realised that he was not standing there and was, in fact, standing near the line of the Forbidden Forest.

This caused the group of students to sober up quickly as an air of apprehension fell around them.

"We're workin' in here today!" Hagrid calls happily to the approaching students, jerking his head back at the dark trees behind him. "Bit more sheltered! Anyway, they prefer the dark... C'mon then! No time ter waste! Follow me!"

Hagrid turned around, hoisting the dead cow further up his shoulder and strode towards the forest.

"What prefers the dark?" Malfoy says sharply to Crabbe and Goyle, a trace of panic in his voice. "What did he say prefers the dark - did you hear?"

"Yes," Margaret whispers back nervously, causing Draco to snap his head towards her, seemingly too panicked to care that it was her he was listening to. "He said something about... uh, well..."

"About?" Draco asks.

"About..." She jerks her head upwards, pointing at air just above his head, "OH MY GOD!"

Draco whipped around screaming and trying to draw his wand but promptly lost his balance and crashed onto the frosty grass. Crabbe and Goyle followed suit, backing up even after landing hard on their backsides.

Harry and Ron burst out laughing, clutching their stomachs. The rest of the class, who were quite near now, also guffawed loudly. Margaret shared a smirk with a chuckling Hermione, who shook her head at the girl's antics.

"Geroffme! Get off-" Draco pushes his gorilla friends as he tries to get to his feet, spluttering some snow out of his mouth, but falls back down when Goyle grabs his sweater to support himself. "There is nothing there, you fool!"

Before Draco could even fully get stand up and turn to Margaret, Hagrid returned, realising that no one was following him.

"What're you lot doin'? C'mon now- what're you doing, Malfoy? Get ter yer feet, ain't no time to make snur fairies! C'mon, c'mon, this way!"

He turned and strode straight into the forest again. Nobody seemed willing to follow him. Margaret, on the other hand, tailed his footsteps without much of a care, leading the rest of the class. Still shaking slightly with mirth, Harry fell into step with Margaret, with Hermione on her other side, who was walking next to Ron.

"That was brilliant!" he tells her, grinning. "Malfoy looked like Moody was about to turn him into a ferret again or something!"

"That was the desired effect," Margaret laughs. "I'm surprised he didn't take a thousand points away from me."

"Oh, yeah," Hermione pipes up, "we forgot to tell you; Dumbledore's taken away the right of Prefects to take points away from students. He didn't mention why but I have a feeling McGonagall may have mentioned about Malfoy and Parkinson's behaviour. You aren't the only Gryffindor they've robbed of points..."

"Yeah, but that means we can't take away points from Slytherin too," Ron says, sounding disheartened, before perking up again, "But we can give them detentions!"

Margaret could feel Draco glaring daggers in the back of her head and she daringly took a look over her shoulder to find that he was doing just that while Pansy was latched onto his arm, brushing the remaining snow off of his shoulder. His darkened eyes met Margaret's and she lifted her hand to brush off imaginary dust from her own shoulder. Draco's eyes narrowed into slits before she looked away.

They walked for about ten minutes until they reached a place where the trees stood so close together that it was as dark as twilight and there was no snow on the ground at all.

Hagrid deposited his half a cow with a grunt on the ground, stepped back, and turned to face the class again, most of whom were creeping toward him from tree to tree, peering around nervously as though expecting a stampede at any moment. Several of them, Margaret noticed, were clutching their wands in their pockets or in their hands.

"Ready?" Hagrid asks happily, looking around at the class. "Right, well, I've bin savin' a trip inter the forest fer yer fifth year. Thought we'd go an' see these creatures in their natural habitat. Now, what we're studyin' today is pretty rare, I reckon I'm probably the on'y person in Britain who's managed ter train 'em-"

"And you're sure they're trained, are you?" Draco asks, the panic in his voice had returned. "Only it wouldn't be the first time you brought wild stuff to class, would it?"

The Slytherins murmured agreement and a few Gryffindors looked as though they thought Malfoy had a fair point too.

"'Course they're trained," Hagrid scowls.

"So what happened to your face, then?" Draco demands.

"Mind yer own business! Now if yeh've finished askin' stupid questions, gather roun'," Hagrid tells them encouragingly. "Now, they'll be attracted by the smell o' meat but I'm goin' ter give 'em a call anyway, 'cause they'll like ter know it's me..."

He turned, shook his shaggy head to get the hair out of his face, and gave an odd, shrieking cry that echoed through the dark trees like the call of some monstrous bird. Nobody laughed; most of them looked too scared to make a sound.

Hagrid gave the shrieking cry again. A minute passed in which the class continued to peer nervously over their shoulders and around trees to get the first glimpse of whatever that was coming.

And then, in the black space between two slanted yew trees, a pair of blank, white, shining eyes was growing larger through the gloom. A moment later the dragon-ish face, neck, and the skeletal body of a great, black, winged horse emerged from the darkness.

It looked around at the class for a few seconds, swishing its long black tail, then bowed its head and began to tear the flesh from the dead cow with its pointed fangs.

Margaret leaned sideways on a tree to keep her balance.

Up close, the thestral was undoubtedly beautiful but something about it was surreal. Perhaps it was the fact that only those who had seen death could see it, perhaps it was because here it seemed even more magnificent in here in the natural habitat, but Margaret was absolutely taken with the haunting beauty of the fantastic beast.

Harry looked eagerly at Ron, but Ron was still staring around into the trees and after a few seconds he whispers, "Why doesn't Hagrid call again?"

"It's there," Margaret replies, pointing at where it looked like the meat was eating itself, causing Ron to gasp.

Most of the rest of the class were wearing expressions as confused and nervously expectant as Ron's was a moment ago and were still gazing everywhere but at the horse standing a few feet from them. There were only two other people who seemed to be able to see them: a gristly Slytherin boy standing just behind Goyle was watching the horse eating with an expression of great distaste on his face, and Neville, whose eyes were following the swishing progress of the long black tail.

"Oh, an' here comes another one!" Hagrid announces proudly, as a second black horse appeared out of the dark trees, folded its leathery wings closer to its body, and dipped its head to gorge on the meat. "Now... put yer hands up, who can see 'em?"

Harry and Margaret both raised their hands. Hagrid nodded at them, looking slightly surprised to see Margaret's hand up.

"An' you too, Neville, eh? An'-"

"Excuse me," Malfoy interrupts in a sneering voice, shooting a glare at Margaret before looking at Hagrid, "but what exactly are we supposed to be seeing?"