Draco had gotten too cocky this time, not that he'd ever admit it out loud.

"This is very easy," Draco had drawled out, loud enough for Potter to hear. "I knew it must've been, if Potter could do it... I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you?" He'd said to the hippogriff. "Are you you ugly brute?"

It was that what he'd said that had provoked the hippogriff to attack. It had happened in a flash of steely talons; Draco had let out a high-pitched scream, then Hagr!d had to wrestle Buckbeak off of him.

He now lay curled on the grass, blood blossoming over his robes. There was a deep, long gash on his arm his arm. Blood even splattered on the grass.

"I'm dying!" He yelled. "I'm dying, look at me! It's killed me!"

Hagr!d picked him up and started walking to the hospital wing. "Yer not dyin'! Relax, Malfoy, I'll ge' yer up to the 'ospi'al win'."