Dragon Hunt

Harry couldn’t help be a bit entertained by his current situation. His uncle’s house had been overrun by “freaks!” Sirius and Dudley were getting along playing cards in the dining room. Snape was sitting on the veranda having a nice cup of tea with his aunt and Moody had again muted his uncle who continued to berate everyone silently as if he didn’t know they couldn’t hear him.

Tonight he would be leaving this house for good. The Weasleys would be here shortly to help him pack and then move to wherever had been deemed safe. Every night had been the same. Flashes of light outside as they fended off a dragon and then obliviated the neighborhood. And that sound, that screeching, which had become deeper and rumbling: no longer a frantic confused noise, but a simmering incensed sound. Though it was no less captivating and had become oddly comforting. It had allowed him sleep. It had lulled him to sleep and allowed him to have his dreams. Dreams that were filled with that smile he’d been missing.

A dragon was hunting him. A dragon was hunting him. It wasn’t the first time. He remembered when he’d told Cedric about the dragons. He’d split Cedric’s bag with a charm and realized he was attracted to the older boy when he’d bent over to gather up his things. He remembered Cedric’s narrowed, suspicious gaze as he’d told him about the task they would both have to face.

But what he remembered the most was when Cedric had approached him the night after the task. All the champions had been kept in the hospital wing to monitor their injuries. Exhaustion had allowed Harry to sleep easily then.

. . . “Potter!” The harsh whisper jerked him awake. Harry looked through the darkness at a pair of gray eyes, smiling beautiful gray eyes. “I just wanted to thank you,” Cedric whispered.

“Huh?” Harry whispered and then immediately blushed because of his own ineloquence. He was glad the darkness allowed that blush to remain hidden.

Cedric laughed softly. “Thank you for the warning, Potter. It was an up-right thing to do. I’m not sure if the roles were reversed that I would do the same.”

“I think you would,” Harry said quietly.

Cedric laughed again and shook his head. “Get some sleep, Potter. I think you hit your head.” Cedric unbent from his crouch and moved to go, but Harry used his Seeker skills to catch the other boy’s peaches and cream wrist.

Cedric looked back down at Harry in confusion. Harry cleared his throat. “My name is Harry. I’d like it if you called me Harry,” he said softly. Cedric stared at him for a long moment. Harry ran his thumb along the soft skin along the back of the wrist he still held and heard Cedric suck in a shuttering gasp in response. “Call me Harry,” he repeated.

Cedric nodded dumbly, his face breaking into a shy grin. “Harry,” he breathed out. Harry’s name never sounded to appealing before. “Good night, Harry.”

“Good night, Cedric,” Harry replied. He allowed Cedric’s wrist to slide from his grasp, but he ran his fingers along his palm as he did. Cedric almost tripped on his way back to his own cot and Harry couldn’t help but smile. . . .

There was a knock on the door and Sirius hopped up. “I’ll get it,” he announced. He pulled back the door to allowed the Weasley matriarch and patriarch enter with their youngest son.

“Good to see you, mate,” Ron said happily, clapping Harry on the back. Harry smiled back, just now realizing how much he had missed his best friend. “Just as you sent for,” Ron continued, lifting up a cage with a brown barn owl sitting quietly inside.

“Thanks,” Harry said, taking the cage before turning to Dudley. “For you, so that you can mail me,” Harry said.

“Cool, thanks,” Dudley said, taking the cage gratefully. The house was a whirlwind of activity while Harry explained the owl post to Dudley, but before long the magical occupants were waiting by the door with a pile of luggage. “You think they can leave that spell on me dad?” Dudley asked quietly, gesturing to the still mute Vernon.

“Don’t think so, sorry,” Harry laughed.

“Just as well,” Dudley said. “He’ll start throwing things soon if we don’t start responding to him. Good-bye Harry.”

“Bye Dudley,” Harry said quietly before being whisked away.

Just before midnight, they had stepped out onto the porch, and Harry saw the dragon for the first time. A sleek silver creature was crouching on the street before the house, ice blue eyes staring at Harry. It was coated in gleaming white-silver scales and its long curled talons were could be mistaken for sculpted ice. But its eyes were practically piercing. Harry could feel them on him. Harry almost stumbled backwards and then realized no one else had flinched.

“Harry?” Sirius asked, turning back and giving Harry a concerned look. “What is it?”

“You don’t see it,” Harry breathed out.

“See what?” Sirius asked, scanning the yard and beyond, as were the others.

Harry was practically hypnotized by the creature before him, the eyes boring into him, making him feel naked and exposed as if it were seeing more than Harry’s physical self. That dragon—Draco!—was peering right into his soul. And that rumble! The growling rumble, it was massaging Harry right down to the bone.

His knees were weakening. That sound! Harry felt himself begin to collapse, only to be caught by Ron and held upright by the two Weasley men. But the moment the red heads’ hands clasped around Harry’s arms, that growling rumble had changed back to the panicked shriek of the first night.

And the dragon had stood, smoke puffing out of his nostrils. And then Harry heard his friends yelling, wands being drawn, flashes of light as the fighting began. Harry didn’t have the chance to watch because he felt as if his blood was boiling within him. He wanted to run straight at the beautiful creature before him, wrap his arms around it and never let go. He wanted to become one with it.

Harry pushed off the hands holding him up and stepped towards the dragon, but in his haste to reach the creature, he neglected to remember there was a battle raging and then he had lost consciousness.