Harry Potter VS Murphy\'s Law

"...how else was I to take on a full grown mother dragon?” Harry asked simply



----------------- FLASHBACK TIME -----------------------



“Accio Broom!” Harry said for the third time, growing desperate. The dragon snarled and tried to get around the rock at him, blasting the rock he hid behind with yet another jet of fire that felt like it nearly scalded his hair off his head. He heard something at the same moment the dragon did and his broom shot to him out of nowhere; in less than half a heartbeat he was on it and and shot up into the air. The furious mother dragon lunged after him, spreading her wings and launching into the air as she blasted another jet of flame after him, launching into pursuit. Harry, only intent on surviving long enough to get back to get the egg, paid no further attention on what was going on behind him.



Murphy had felt he'd had the best seat all along; he could see everything from up here in the top row. He could even see Potter hiding behind the rock, trying not to become a toasted kipper for the dragon to munch. He gasped and "oohed" and "aahed" along with the rest of the crowd; if nothing else this was great entertainment. Then Potter suddenly had his broom and he shot into the air, the maddened dragon chasing after him in hot pursuit, making the crowd go wild. Murphy could hear Draco Malfoy over the rest of the crowd, cheering and telling the dragon to hurry up and eat him.



Then Potter wheeled around and shot directly toward the stands; Murphy was sure that he was going to crash right into him! Those around him screamed and scrambled out of the way; but Lawson found he was pinned in place by fear. Helplessly he crossed one arm over his eyes to await the inevitable. The twigs of Potter's broom ruffled his hair but no more; he began to lower his arm to see himself face-to-open-maw with an infuriated and maddened mother dragon, who let loose another blast of fire.



Everything had seemed to go into slow motion for him at that point. The flames crept toward him and it seemed the dragon was going to snatch him out of the stands, but another downward thrust of her wings and she was up and past him, her scaled body passing within reach of his hands as he felt a burning sensation crawl across his scalp and shoulders. Her tail whipped down and slapped the stands as she passed; it seemed like the stands just evaporated under him and he was falling; tumbling backward unheeded into the air, his hair on fire.



The next thing he knew he was already back in the castle. He was lying on a soft bed and he could smell the antiseptic smell of the hospital wing... and a horrible smoky smell. What the bloody hell was that...? How had he gotten here...? His head ached and he reached up to touch his head, groaning slightly.



His hand was caught by a bony thin one; McGonogall was at his side, her face more pinched than usual and looking very worried indeed. "No, son, you mustn't touch there..." she soothed.



"My head...? Why? What happened?" he asked, confused.



“Just relax,dear; Pomfrey will be here as quickly as she can. She insisted on staying until the end of the challenge to ensure no one died.” she murmured.



"But what...?" he tried to reach up and she stopped him again.



"You mustn't touch. You've been hit by dragonfire, Lawson. If you touch it, I'm not sure if Poppy can repair the damage that's been done... I'm not sure if she can repair it at all..."



“Damage…?” he asked, confused, realizing that much of his body was aching and hurting. His memories came flying back to him then; that blasted dragon breathing fire into his face, her tail smashing the stands, falling into blackness.



McGonogall sighed, then tugged a wrinkle out of the blanket that lay across his chest. Clearly she intended to tell him the truth but was not comfortable about it. “Your hair, dear. You… you don’t have much left.”



------------- BACK TO THE PRESENT ---------



“I had a broken arm and several broken fingers, and a sprained ankle. And I look like THIS thanks to you!” He snapped, ripping the odd oversized bowler hat off his head and flinging it aside. Atop his head was a small tuft of hair that kind of meandered sideways across his head, with scarring preventing any hair from growing on the top of his head. He had the sides of his hair and sideburns, but nothing at all on top but that odd tuft. “That damned dragon fire burned my hair off and it’s never grown back! Nothing works to make it grow…! You can’t deny that you made THIS happen to me!” he accused in pure fury.



“Not on purpose…” Harry defended, trying his absolute best not to allow any humor into the situation. The way Lawson’s hair looked reminded Harry strongly of the clowns they used to show on muggle children’s telly shows.



Murphy bristled. “It doesn’t matter if it was on purpose or not! You cost me my hair and you cost me my happiness! Your actions cost me my girl!”



He was getting more and more confused by all of this. How had the dragon burning off his hair had anything to do with a girl? “Your girl didn’t want you because of what happened to your hair…?” Harry asked.



“No, she was NEVER that shallow! You're insulting the woman I loved, Potter!" he growled, eyes narrow. "Merlin, everyone thinks you’re so bloody brilliant but no one knows how impossibly thick you are!” he snapped sourly at him. “Don't you remember what happened after that?! The YULE BALL!”



That got Harry's mind running. He hadn't seen this fellow at the ball at all and he and Ron had spent so much of that sitting and watching everyone go by. “Oh, of course. Well, mate, I didn’t know that you were even hurt… I would have…”



Murphy laughed bitterly. "Thanks to you I was restricted to the hospital wing for two weeks while the Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape tried to find something that would help me! You wouldn't believe the stuff they made me eat!”



“Sorry. There’s really nothing else I can say than I’m sorry. I really do mean it …” Lawson looked pained, leaning back against the table. Harry couldn't keep his eyes from dropping to his wand that lay upon that table; it looked like his glasses were there too. He gazed at them longingly and tried to move his hands; the tape only pulled hairs out of his fingers but did not loosen in the slightest. If his hands had not been tied, he would have tried to summon the wand to him but he there was no point in the attempt. Murphy had ensured that even if he did he would be unable to use it or even touch it with a fingertip by taping his hands this way.



Lawson sighed softly, wiping at his eyes. “You know, Potter, I was supposed to go to the Yule Ball with Susan Bones; she was the most beautiful girl in that entire place. Her pretty blue eyes and that long wavy red hair… she was an absolute vision, even better than any of those damned French girls flitting about. I adored her from the first day I saw her in school; I waited until she was fifteen to ask her out and the Yule Ball was my perfect chance to get her to be my girl. I'd bought her a corsage that cost me three galleons, and had a new suit and everything." he said softly.



"But you didn't go?"



"I told you! I was in the hospital wing! Susan didn't know and she was furious at me for standing her up; she never spoke to me civilly again thanks to you!”



Harry tried to think quickly; he was starting to panic being taped in place like this. He felt like a fly stuck to flypaper. “She’s still not married, you know… I know her. I could talk to her for you…” Harry offered, trying to move his fingers a little again; nothing.



“She’s engaged! You saw the announcement in the Prophet; she’s to be married at the end of the year. She’s forgotten that I even existed!” He said in an angered, sulky tone. “Don’t offer me things you can’t deliver, Potter!”



“But I CAN do this, Murphy! Let me just talk to her for you… maybe she does remember…”



“I won’t interfere on her happiness! I love her too much…” he said, adjusting the heavy weapon on his shoulder. Harry fell silent, allowing the man to sulk for a while; he felt that was his best option. Another outburst from this man might get his head blown off. Finally, he began to speak again. “That’s not all you did, Potter. You and your damned ‘golden trio’…”



“There’s more…?”