BUCKBEAK AND THE THREE POTIONS
Once upon a time there was a hippogriff named Buckbeak. Buckbeak was a fierce, proud creature, and why wouldn't he be? He had huge powerful eagle wings, richly feathered in grey and white. His front feet were eagle feet with thick strong talons, and if they got ahold of something their grip was absolutely unbreakable. His back legs were powerful horse legs, and his hooked beak was razor sharp. His yellow eagle eye could pick out a stray deer on a mountain slope a mile away.
In the summertimesBuckbeak lived in a craggy, wooded mountain rage, soaring from peak to peak and trotting through the forests. He hunted in the meadows and drank from cold, clear mountain streams. But when September arrived and the leaves changed and frost appeared on the meadows, Buckbeak went to live at Hogwarts, where there was a nice forest full of easy prey and an unusually large and hairy but otherwise kind human who looked after him and made sure he was warm and dry and had enough to eat. Sometimes groups of other, smaller humans were brought in to meet him, but Buckbeak didn’t pay too much attention to them. He stayed at Hogwarts through the winter and spring and then went back to the mountains again for the summer.
One year, on the very last day of August, Buckbeakwentout on his very last hunt of the summer. He had spotted a nimble white mountain goat that dodged from rock to rock and in and out of narrow canyons as fast as Buckbeak could follow, its rear hoofs flashing out behind it. It was a lot of fun, really excellent sport, and he did enjoy a good goat for dinner. Buckbeak swooped and turned and dived after it. The goat was fast, but he was faster.
But then something strange happened: out of desperation the goat darted into a dark cave in the shelter of the mountainside. Buckbeak landed. He stood at the mouth of the cave, peering in. It was odd. He thought he knew most of the caves around here, but he didn't know this one. And anyway goats didn't usually like caves. A moment later, before his eyes could adjust to the darkness, Buckbeak was hit by a terrible blast of fire.
He managed to get a wing up in time to shield himself from the worst of it. But it hurt! A great roar followed. Buckbeak recognized it: the cave was the lair of a fierce dragon -- it must have been a Hungarian Horntail. A beast like that was too fierce for even Buckbeak to face. He hated to retreat – it hurt his pride – but he had no choice. He backed out of there and went bounding down the mountainside.
As he ran his burnt wing began to hurt. The skin was scorched and raw, and it ached. And it looked awful: Half the feathers had been singed away, and a hippogriff takes great pride in his feathers. There was no way he could fly with a wing like that, so when he reached the bottom Buckbeaktrotted miserably away through the forest instead, on foot. He headed for Hogwarts, where he knew he would be safe.
September was beginning, and as the sun set a cold night wind began to blow. Autumn leaves twirled down around him. His wing was very painful. He wondered if he would ever fly again.
To make matters worse, when he arrived at Hogwarts he found that thebig human, whose name was Haggy or Hogger or something like that, had gone away on a trip. He’d left a group of his favorite students to take care of the magical creatures while he was gone. But Buckbeak didn’t know these smaller humans. He wasn't used to them. He didn’t trust them.
One by one the two-legs approached him, asking to make friends, but Buckbeak wouldn’t let them touch him. Some of them weren’t respectful enough. Some of them were too nervous—they couldn’t look him in the eye—or too rough. Some of them just didn’t smell right. Buckbeak turned his head away from them, one by one. One of them he even snapped at.
Last of all was a little blond human, who must have been only a First or Second Year. At first Buckbeak thought she was too small to bother with, but she didn’t seem to be afraid of him. She looked him right in the eye. She was firm with him, but respectful, and when she reached up to stroke his neck her fingers were soft. They felt good.
And she smelled good too. And she’d thought to bring him a raw steak from the dining hall.
Carefully the little human, who said her name was Lily, walked round to Buckbeak’s side and began to inspect his hurt wing. Buckbeak looked too. It was even worse than he thought. The wing hung down limp and useless. So many feathers were gone, and the skin underneath was red and burnt.
But the little human seemed to know exactly what to do. While Buckbeaknommed the steak she brought him, Lily went to the potions room and then the greenhouse and came back with a basket full of bottles and powders and herbs and roots. She patted his neck and told him to stay where he was while she went into Hagrid’s house and began to carefully mix the ingredients on his big kitchen table. Buckbeak peered through the window curiously.
She came out again with three bottles. One of them was a luminous transparent blue. She poured it over his wing where it was burnt and gently spread it around evenly. Wherever it touched, the pain went away. Soon his whole wing felt cool and pain-free for the first time since the dragon attacked him.
The next potion was a deep gold, like honey. She poured that over his burnt wing too, and wherever she poured,the angry, scorched, red skin looked a little pinker and healthier. She was healing him!
The last potion was clear, with tiny starry sparkles in it that twinkled in the sun. Wherever that potion touched his skin ... was it possible? Buckbeak cocked his head and tried to look closer over his shoulder. Yes! Wherever the potion went, tiny little downy feathers had begun to grow.
Buckbeak nuzzled the girl with his big soft feathery head. She smiled at him.
He wasn’t healed all at once. His wing was still very achey and weak, and there was only a little downy feathering on it. But the little human came every day after her classes and rubbed the three potions on him, and every day he felt a little better. She gave him exercises to do, to strengthen the wing and keep it flexible. It hurt, and he squawked at her, but she made him do them, and afterwards the wing did feel better.
Even after Hagrid came back, Buckbeak let him know that Lily was the only one who was allowed to take care of him. Buckbeak was still as fierce and proud as ever, but somehow it didn’t bother him to let Lily take care of him. They were equals. He knew that she was as fierce as he was, in her little human way.
By the springtime his wing was almost all better. It felt strong again, though it was stiff, and he could extend it and flap it almost the way he used to. The feathers were almost all grown in too. Buckbeak felt like he was nearly ready to fly.
But he was nervous too. What if his wing couldn’t support him? What if the pain came back?
One morning in March the little blond girl led him outside and told him it was time. There was a good breeze, and it was sunny. Buckbeak trotted nervously around the meadow, trying to get up the courage to take off. He trotted around and around. But he just couldn’t to it. If he tried and failed, he didn’t know what he would do.Buckbeak was too proud to ask the little girl for what he needed. But he didn’t have to. She just knew.
Effortlessly, as if they’d practiced it a hundred times, the little girl swung up onto Buckbeak’s back. It was like she weighed nothing at all. Instantly Buckbeak felt better. He knew he was safe with Lily there.
“Come on, Beaky,” she said. Only she and Hagrid (or Haggy or Hogger or whatever his name was) were allowed to call him that. “I’m here. I know you can do this. You're ready.”
Buckbeak galloped across the meadow and with a pounding, thundering rush he surged up into the air. Lily squeaked with surprise and then whooped in triumph.He was flying! Buckbeak’s wing was strong enough after all. It had been so long. He’d forgotten how good it felt.
They just cleared the tops of the trees and then went soaring up over Hogwarts. They could see out all the way over the Forbidden Forest. The sun shone on the lake where the Giant Squid lived. They went swooping in between the towers of the castle. They zoomed over the Quidditch pitch, where the Slytherin team was practicing, and the Golden Snitch buzzed by them. (Lily nimbly plucked it out of the air and tucked it in her jacket pocket. The SlytherinSeeker would be looking for that for a while!) When they flew over the courtyard Lily’s friends all looked up and waved at her and cheered. It felt wonderful.
Even the Whomping Willow seemed to whomp at them happily. Though you could never really tell what it was thinking.
After that Lily and Buckbeak flew together every day, while Buckbeak got his strength back and practiced his old hunting moves. Sometimes she rode on his back, and sometimes she flew beside him on her broomstick and they chased and raced each other. He got stronger and stronger. She still made him do his exercises every day, but he didn’t even mind it anymore. Much.
On the last day of school it was time for Lily to go back home for the summer, and for Buckbeak to go back to the mountains. It was hard for both of them. Lily threw her arms around his strong neck and buried her face in his soft feathers. Buckbeak hadn’t cried when the dragon scorched him, but now a tear fell from his big yellow eagle-eye.
Before he flew off they made a date. On midnight of the summer solstice, Lily would sneak out of her house and climb up onto the roof, and Buckbeak would come for her, and they would fly away together. He would take her hunting all night, and bring her back at dawn, before her parents noticed. Maybe they would even catch that white goat!
But they wouldn't be going into any dark caves.