Temple of the Dragon

Chapter One

STONE-PAPER-SCISSORS

It was their final year at Hogwarts. The Dark Lord has finally been vanquished and Albus Dumbledore has finally filed for retirement. The Wizarding World was safe at last from all those who have been faithful followers of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and as for those who have survived, either ran away or decided to live a peaceful life instead.

It was a different year now. No more fear of the unknown. At least, that's what our friends here believed so.

"Oh my goodness, it's so good to see you!"

"My, how tall are you anyway?"

"I can't believe this is happening, acne all over her face,"

"Bloody good to see you all!"

The Sorting Ceremony was about to begin and the students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were excited as ever. Harry, Ron and Hermione, of course, couldn't be any happier.

"Ron! Goodness, you're probably taller than my dad by now!" Hermione exclaimed, looking up at Ron. She was no taller that Ron's shoulders, but the Weasley family trademark was always there. The same burning red hair, and freckles that suddenly seemed to make Ron's face noticeable... at least Lavender Brown thought so.

Harry grinned, looking around the school. He looked down at Hermione. "You've grown a lot too, you know," he said, while running his fingers through his hair. Hermione beamed at him. Harry was right, she did grow a lot over the summer. She found a better way to tame her hair with Smoother's Hair Care. Curves have appeared in the right places, all of which were concealed in their school robes. "You're prettier than ever," he added sheepishly. Hermione didn't hear this, but she smiled anyway.

Ron thought he was about to puke. "Um, well, Ron, it looks like it's just you and me this time, how are you?" he asked sarcastically to himself but couldn't help but smile. Yeap, a lot of things have changed, he thought. He looked at Harry while he was talking to Hermione. Gone was that lanky boy he met six years ago. Harry grew tall, but of course, he was taller. But like him, it was the hair that never changed. It was still messy, and it still hid the infamous scar. And he was still his best friend.

"Man, I'm so hungry!" he complained. "When is the ceremony going to start?"

As if on cue, the whole faculty of the school appeared from a door at the side of the front table, where all of the teachers stayed. The big old oak chair, which was at the center of the table, was still empty, but there were a couple of new faces at the table as well. Professor McGonagall clanked her fork on the crystal cup and said, "May I have your attention please".

Hermione grinned as the whole school became quiet. That was the same line she heard every year at the start of the ceremony. It wasn't that it was predictable; it's just that it sounded like home. At this moment, she suddenly felt that feeling of being watched. She frowned, and looked slowly to her left. Draco Malfoy was looking at her. From the corner of her eye, she noticed that he too, has changed. He looked taller, and better, if that was possible. She dismissed the thought from her head and turned away immediately. Bugger, she thought.

Professor McGonagall stood up from her chair and spoke to the students. She cleared her throat. "Good evening, everyone. As you all know, Professor Dumbledore has decided to retire at the end of the school year, last year - "

"About time," Malfoy smirked from the Slytherin table, and a few girls giggled.

Professor McGonagall unfortunately didn't hear it. " - leaving us with no headmaster, yet. But I am pleased to tell you that things have worked out just fine. Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome, the new headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Professor Aberforth Dumbledore!"

Applause followed but the students began whispering to each other.

"Aberforth? The one who couldn't read?"

"Dumbledore's dumdum of a brother?"

"Honestly, what's happened to Hogwarts?"

"Don't worry boys, he's easy." That was Malfoy, talking to Crabbe and Goyle, who looked a lot like muggle wrestlers and monkeys, all rolled into one. Hermione heard him, and realized that both Harry and Ron heard it too. She gave them a what-does-that-mean-look. They just shrugged and listened as Aberforth was saying something.

Harry was amazed. It was like looking at a younger Albus. Aberforth had a long golden hair, with a golden beard growing down past his throat. He wasn't wearing any hat, and the light from the bewitched ceiling, which was an unusual Smileys logo, reflected upon his hair. He didn't look stupid as he would have thought he'd look like. He looked, well, almost good-looking.

"And we have implemented a new rule as well, together with the Ministry of Magic. Hogwarts will be accepting students not only for first years, but also second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh as well." He held up his hand as there was a sound of complaints coming from the students. Soon they were quiet again. "As I was saying, this is because we feel that there are children who deserve to go to school and learn more. They will be sorted together with the incoming first years, so, Hagrid, if you please?"

Harry turned around as the doors of the Great Hall opened, with Hagrid leading a bunch of nervous looking first years, as well as some older children. Harry noticed one girl who kept writing in a little parchment with her quill. The old stool was there, and Professor McGonagall held up the Sorting Hat. She called the first name and the second name, and so forth and so on. Students from each tables yelled and hollered and applauded as one by one, kids joined.

"Oohh... my stomach is growling..." Ron grabbed his tummy and began to massage it.

"Really, Ron," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Can't you be patient?" There was no new Gryffindor yet.

"Magda Skeeter!" Prof. McGonagall called out.

The three of them faced each other. "Skeeter?" Hermione was shocked. "Skeeter?" she was boiling inside. She couldn't forget all those mean things That Rita Skeeter woman has done during their fourth year at Hogwarts.

"Whoa, Hermione, calm down." Harry said. "Maybe she's not as bad as her mother."

"Yeah. Look at Lucius and Draco." Ron helped, and paused, as both Hermione and Harry were glaring at him. He thought for a while. "Right. Never mind."

The three of them looked up again. It was the girl who was holding the quill and the parchment. It looks like she kept them away for a while.

"Let's see, you will be starting..." Prof. McGonagall read from the parchment she was holding up. "Seventh year, if I'm not mistaken."

"That's right, professor." She was smiling rather a fake smile, batting her eyelashes furiously.

From the Gryffindor table, Hermione was putting a finger inside her mouth and was making a gagging noise. Ginny was giggling.

"Very well then," the professor said as she put the sorting on her head. Magda Skeeter wore glasses too big for her head, and she kept pushing it to stay there. Her hair was a messy brown hair, which was tied up in a ponytail.

"Gryffindor!" The sorting hat bellowed. The table was yelling appreciatively, except for Hermione who looked like she was going to be sick.

"Hello everyone! My name is Magda Skeeter. I'm Rita Skeeter's daughter. Bloody hell, I'm in Gryffindor, isn't that splendid? And, are you - goodness! Harry Potter! Are you who I think you are, Oh my god then, I heard all those stuff my mother used to write about you before. So are you and that mudblood Hermione still dating, after what she did to you with Viktor Krum? I mean, why do you like her at all? She's so - " Magda was blabbing continuously, and Dean Thomas was trying hard to listen patiently and at the same time not to scream at her.

Ron was smiling. "She's hilarious. Amazing the way her mouth works. I wonder, could it ever stop?"

Hermione was making a fist while she was looking at Rita Skeeter's offspring. "She's one hell of a bitch."

Harry was only silent. The thought of another Rita Skeeter, inside Hogwarts. I mean, sure, there's the Creevey brothers but Magda... he thought. Harry fingers were closing in to form a fist.

"You guys," Ron started, noticing his friends' balled fists. "It's bad luck to start the year with uncontrollable rage, anger and hatred, you know?"

"Oh, and you must be Ron Weasley, right?" Magda Skeeter was looking up and down at him and Ron was beginning to turn into the color of his hair. "Carrot head, I'm sorry, red hair, second hand stuffs, pimples, I mean, freckles on your nose, tell me how old are those robes now? You know you could set a record, oldest robes ever - " And Magda Skeeter was babbling away. Ron was making a fist as well.

"Hey you guys," Neville called out looking at Ron's, Hermione's and Harry's fists. "Are you playing stone-paper-scissors? Coz, I think that it won't work, all three of you, at once."

Professor Aberforth was still saying something. "And last but not the least, our new Professor for Physical Education for the seventh years, Professor Moby Lickorpuss."

Harry looked towards the man (at least he thought was a man) who was sitting beside Professor Snape. He was wearing pink robes, with a flashy turban to match with. He looked closely and raised his eyebrows.

"Hey, Ron, Hermione." Harry called. "Look at the new PhysEd. Professor. What's that in his eyes?"

Hermione covered her mouth before she could laugh out loud. "Oh my God, Harry, it looks like he, or she, is wearing a mascara!"

Ron laughed. "And that's not all. Look at Snape!" he said, pointing at him. Professor Snape was shifting uncomfortably in his chair. He was suddenly playing with the brim of his cup.

"I think there's nothing else left to say. Right then. Dig in!" Professor Aberforth raised his hands and different foods appeared on all five tables, including the faculty table.

"Finally!" Ron exclaimed, grabbing the first chicken legs he could reach.

"Well, dig in!" Harry smiled and started eating too.

* * *

"Hey, Malfoy, are you gonna eat those?"

Draco looked and turned around to see who was talking. It was Goyle.

"Go ahead, Goyle. Eat up." He said. "Who knows, maybe one of it is bewitched with Instant Intelligence Potion."

Goyle ate them anyway. Crabbe frowned for a good three minutes before finally smiling and grunting. "Haw, haw! Good one, Malfoy!"

Draco ignored this. He didn't have any appetite. He couldn't eat, not now when he was feeling very strange. Did she see me looking, he thought. Couldn't have. He could feel every Slytherin girls' eyes staring, no wait, gawking at him. He looked at them and flashed a smile. His pearly white perfect teeth appeared. Soon after they were shrieking with joy. Draco looked exasperated. Honestly, do I look that good? He thought and turned to look back at the Gryffindor table.

Well, he does. He grew around five inches taller, and but was still bearing that brushed up look. His bleached blonde hair was shining. He had a new scar on one of his eyebrows and told everyone that it was a cut he took from brushing up against a tree using his Polaris S Type, (the newest and most expensive broomstick) even though he really got that scar while playing with his cousin Nirvana. Feisty little kid, six years old with nails two inches long. His shoulders were broader, his voice deep, and yet, he looks older than seventeen.

Well of course he does. Ever since his father was caught and thrown into Azkaban, he was the family man around the Malfoy Mansion. Taking care of business and everything else. Instead of hanging around with his friends during the summer, he had to supervise the building of a new bar, called Covencraft at Hogsmeade, after the sweetshop Honeydukes was torn down.

His thoughts were wondering as his eyes laid rest upon the brunette girl seated between Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. It was Hermione. He was looking at her as she was laughing at something that Weasley said. He watched as her eyes glimmered. She looks so beautiful, he said to himself. Wait a minute. What the hell am I saying? She's a filthy mudblood. You can't possibly like her. What am I talking about, I don't like her at all! His mind was racing.

"Hey Malfoy, if you wanted to play stone-paper-scissors, those three there in Gryffindor were just playing awhile ago." He heard someone's voice, pointing at Harry, Ron and Hermione. It was Damien Bletchley, younger brother of the Slytherin seeker not long ago.

"Fuck off, Damien," he mumbled as his fingers relaxed. He began to munch his porkchops. Still, he thought.

He looked up again as Professor Aberforth was saying something. He couldn't help but smirk. Ooh, he'll be so easy to manipulate, he thought to himself. He shook his head for the poor old man. He was saying something.

"You lot go and have a nice sleep afterwards. Big day tomorrow." He smiled. His face wrinkled as lines appeared around his eyes, and lips. He doesn't look that old, but what's with the wrinkles, Draco thought and looked again once more at Hermione, who was licking the rest of her ice cream cone.

Desert was almost over and the first day of school is just a few hours away. He smirked as the strawberry ice cream fell on the chest of her school robes and yelled at Harry for bumping into her. She looks so cute when she's mad. He kept watching as Harry said something like sorry and started to wipe off the ice cream from her chest, which made Hermione scream even louder. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" She seemed to yell, and Harry was turning pink. Draco noticed veins coming out of Hermione's head. The Gryffindor table was laughing at them. Finally, Weasley took out his wand and simply said "disapero ico creamo!" and Hermione's school robes were good as new again.

Draco smiled to himself. Tomorrow was a big day all right.