Harry took advantage of the chaos to land a punch on Flint's stomach, scrambling out of the pile of people.
His face was a mess—nose bleeding, the right lens of his glasses shattered.
Hermione's warning snapped him out of it: if a professor showed up, he'd probably end up with three detentions in two days—one for flying the car to school, one for the dead rats in the hallway that Filch had pinned on him, and now one for this brawl.
Ron crawled out too, blood on his lip, though he looked like he was still enjoying the fight.
The others were still going strong, showing no signs of stopping—the Weasley twins seemed dead-set on breaking Flint's legs before a professor arrived.
"Let's get out of here," Cohen said, tossing a quick repair charm at Harry's glasses. "At least we can save Gryffindor a couple hundred points—if there's even two hundred left after they dock three hundred for the six of us."
Cohen spotted Professor McGonagall striding across the grounds toward them and yanked the trio away.
"I'm telling you, even with the best brooms, they couldn't beat the Gryffindor team," Ron said on their way to Hagrid's hut to lay low, rubbing his swollen lip with a grudge. "Especially Malfoy—he's got nothing on Harry!"
"We all know that, Ron," Hermione said, handing tissues to both Ron and Harry. "But fighting doesn't solve anything."
"If you ask me, you should've just hit all seven of them with some nasty hexes," Cohen chimed in. "Fighting gets you points docked, hexing classmates gets you points docked—might as well go with the option that feels better."
"Cohen!" Hermione cut him off, her tone deadly serious, shutting down his half-joking suggestion.
"At least then we wouldn't have gotten punched…" Harry muttered, totally on board with Cohen's idea.
They reached Hagrid's hut, and Hagrid raised an eyebrow at the bruises on Harry and Ron's faces.
"What's this? You lot fighting each other?" Hagrid asked, frowning. "Friends fall out sometimes, sure—but no need to…"
"No, not us!" Harry jumped in. "It was the Slytherin team…"
Harry and Ron stumbled over each other explaining what happened.
"Oh—" Hagrid's frown eased up. "That's a relief—I thought you'd fallen out. You know me, I'm rubbish with words, wouldn't know whose side to take…"
"At least we didn't get another detention from McGonagall," Harry said with a sigh. "Tomorrow's already packed—besides the car thing, we've still got that detention with Filch."
"We *all* do," Hermione said, wincing. "And it's not even our fault! Those rats had nothing to do with us!"
"Rats?" Hagrid perked up. "Not many rats in the castle, are there? Never hear students complaining about 'em—just don't know how Mrs. Norris manages to keep a whole castle's worth under control…"
*Because there's a basilisk eating them too!* Cohen thought, raising an eyebrow.
They didn't keep much from Hagrid, and he figured whatever Cohen and Harry had run into was probably some student's prank.
"Back when I was at school, kids used to write on the walls too—red paint, made it look like blood, thought it was cool," Hagrid said, though his face darkened. "Didn't stay in school long, though…"
"That's not cool at all," Hermione said, frowning. "It's too weird. Something's off—I can feel it."
"Speaking of weird…" Hagrid piped up. "Something strange is going on in the forest too. The Thestrals I've been raising are acting up—wandering off on their own all over the place. They used to stick together."
"Thestrals?" Harry asked, hearing the term for the first time.
"You'd have seen them if you hadn't flown that car here," Hermione explained. "They're invisible magical creatures. Cohen told me about them, and I looked them up later."
"Only people who've seen death can see them. My mum says they're bad omens—" Ron started, wide-eyed, but Hagrid cut him off.
"That's just outsider nonsense," Hagrid said firmly. "Thestrals are brilliant creatures—no bad omens about 'em."
Still, Hagrid calling them "brilliant" didn't exactly reassure Harry or Ron—they knew his soft spot for dangerous, oversized beasts all too well.
"They don't hurt people, do they?" Hermione asked, worried. "They're classified as 4X magical creatures by the Ministry…"
"The ones at Hogwarts are trained by me—they won't hurt a soul," Hagrid said, thumping his chest confidently. "Give 'em steady food, a solid group to live with, and a bit of company, and they're tame as anything."
Hagrid might just be the only person in Britain to have tamed a whole herd of Thestrals—Cohen trusted him on that.
But the Thestrals acting strange… could that have anything to do with him?
Cohen couldn't recall this from the books, and that Thestral sticking its tongue out at him at the start of term was odd too…
*If only they could talk—maybe horse-like creatures can chat with each other?* Cohen wondered if he should ask the unicorns about it.
"Want to go see Norbert?" Hagrid suggested excitedly after the topic wound down. "I've got a whole bunch of Puffskeins for him! He's growing fast—bet he'll hit adult size this year!"
Harry, Ron, and Hermione couldn't even imagine facing a full-grown dragon—they all shot down the idea. Even Cohen wasn't keen on Norbert anymore; after a whole summer, even the coolest creatures get old.
They hung out at Hagrid's for a while, heading back closer to lunch. Hagrid gave Harry and Ron some herbs—weird-smelling stuff, but it worked. They looked almost normal again, no signs of the fight.
"Thanks, Hagrid," Harry said, relieved. "Otherwise, McGonagall would've caught us for sure—I wonder if she still suspects we were in on the fight."
As luck would have it, they ran into McGonagall right as they got back to the castle.
Harry hadn't even changed, but he dodged trouble with a lazy excuse about skipping practice.
"Skipping training's no good, Potter," McGonagall said sternly. "Though it's just as well you weren't at the pitch today. Your teammates got into a nasty brawl—I'd have had to dock every last point Gryffindor has left if you'd all been there."
"I wouldn't do that," Harry said, guilt creeping in. The herbal smell still clung to him—he had a feeling McGonagall knew the truth but lacked proof.