After passing Hagrid's Hut and walking about a quarter of a mile into the Forbidden Forest, the witches from Beauxbatons came upon an enormous paddock.
Inside were twelve winged Abraxans with gold-and-silver manes and fiery red eyes.
Madame Maxime moved past Hagrid, who had been leading the way, and hurried to the paddock, trying to maintain her elegant bearing as she peered through the fence.
One of the Abraxans brought its head closer and snorted.
"My darlings, you must have been terrified!" Madame Maxime stroked the Abraxan's mane as though comforting her own child.
But even after looking over the whole herd, she could not tell which Abraxan had been injured. She could only turn to Hagrid with a questioning look.
Hagrid hung his head, his broad, rough hands gripping the hem of his suit jacket. His face had turned a deep purple.
"Don't be nervous, Rubeus. This isn't your fault, but you must let me know where my horse was hurt, mustn't you?"
Madame Maxime was especially forgiving toward the gamekeeper, who was nearly as large as she was.
Only then did Hagrid raise his head. Pointing at one of the Abraxans, he said in a muffled voice, "That one. Poor little thing, there's a cut on its hoof." Behind them, the exchange delegates from the various schools fell silent. A flicker of resignation passed through Dumbledore's bright blue eyes behind his half-moon glasses.
Looking at the barely visible streak of blood on the hoof Hagrid had indicated, Cheng Quandao's mouth twitched. "We mobilized everyone for this?"
He spoke in Chinese. Although the other delegates could not understand him, they could guess that he was complaining.
Li Nanyu glanced at Hagrid and chuckled. "You should appreciate his kindness."
The witches from Beauxbatons all breathed sighs of relief. They did