They moved around the edge of the forest, darkness falling thickly around them, until they were hidden behind a clump of trees through which they could make out the Willow.
“There’s Ron!” said Harry suddenly.
A dark figure was sprinting across the lawn and its shout echoed through the still night air.
“Get away from him—get away—Scabbers, come here—”
And then they saw two more figures materialize out of nowhere. Harry watched himself and Hermione chasing after Ron. Then he saw Ron dive.
“Gotcha! Get off, you stinking cat—”
“There’s Sirius!” said Harry. The great shape of the dog had bounded out from the roots of the Willow. They saw him bowl Harry over, then seize Ron…
“Looks even worse from here, doesn’t it?” said Harry, watching the dog pulling Ron into the roots. “Ouch—look, I just got walloped by the tree—and so did you—this is weird—”
The Whomping Willow was creaking and lashing out with its lower branches; they could see themselves darting here and there, trying to reach the trunk. And then the tree froze.
“That was Crookshanks pressing the knot,” said Hermione.
“And there we go…” Harry muttered. “We’re in.”
The moment they disappeared, the tree began to move again. Seconds later, they heard footsteps quite close by. Dumbledore, Macnair, Fudge, and the old Committee member were making their way up to the castle.
“Right after we’d gone down into the passage!” said Hermione. “If only Dumbledore had come with us…”
“Macnair and Fudge would’ve come too,” said Harry bitterly. “I bet you anything Fudge would’ve told Macnair to murder Sirius on the spot…”
They watched the four men climb the castle steps and disappear from view. For a few minutes the scene was deserted. Then—
“Here comes Lupin!” said Harry as they saw another figure sprinting down the stone steps and hating toward the Willow. Harry looked up at the sky. Clouds were obscuring the moon completely.
They watched Lupin seize a broken branch from the ground and prod the knot on the trunk. The tree stopped fighting, and Lupin, too, disappeared into the gap in its roots.
“If he’d only grabbed the cloak,” said Harry. “It’s just lying there…” He turned to Hermione.
“If I just dashed out now and grabbed it, Snape’d never be able to get it and—”
“Harry, we mustn’t be seen!”
“How can you stand this?” he asked Hermione fiercely. “Just standing here and watching it happen?” He hesitated. “I’m going to grab the cloak!”
“Harry, no!”
Hermione seized the back of Harry’s robes not a moment too soon. Just then, they heard a burst of song. It was Hagrid, making his way up to the castle, singing at the top of his voice, and weaving slightly as he walked. A large bottle was swinging from his hands.
“See?” Hermione whispered. “See what would have happened? We’ve got to keep out of sight! No, Buckbeak!”
The hippogriff was making frantic attempts to get to Hagrid again; Harry seized his rope too, straining to hold Buckbeak back. They watched Hagrid meander tipsily up to the castle. He was gone. Buckbeak stopped fighting to get away. His head drooped sadly.