Harry Potter and the Dragon

V

The Blond Surprise

"Well, it's not that I thought this book would keep me busy for life, but I didn't expect to read it that soon either. I think I'll owl the author and tell him to write another. But as everybody knows, those bloody assholes fancy themselves special, so he'll probably sneer at my letter and use it to blow his nose, or in the best of cases he'll keep me waiting for his book till I'm eighty and therefore too blind to read... yeah. Bloody assholes. I hate to wait. I have no patience..."

Harry enjoyed being alone just because he could speak his mind aloud without having Hagrid answering every stupid remark he made. But that particular kind of freedom didn't stop him from missing his foster parent and best friend. As he lay on his bed, gaze fixed on the ceiling, he wondered how he was doing. "Probably right," he said aloud as he stood up to go to the kitchen for a midnight snack.

Once there, he realized that they had run out of eggs. "Well, I'll go see if old Pansy has laid something..." He walked towards the back door, grabbed the knob, opened it, and closed it on the spot. A voice spoke from the outside.

"Were you talking about lays, Harry dear? Open the door, boy! See, I've come to tell you a very important thing! You better listen!"

Harry had moved away from the door. In fact, he had left the kitchen and was rummaging his robes, hastily looking for his wand. Once he found it he went back, sliding furtively to the far end of the room. He grabbed the knob again and pulled it with a rapid movement of his left hand, his right clutching the wand steady, ready to shoot.

But there was nobody there.

"Fuck!" He realized his mistake in the very moment he heard someone shout in the front door "Alohomora!" He turned around, only to feel a flash of light hitting him square in the chest. In his brain, the words of the second spell "Petrificus Totalus!" reverberated as a diabolical echo, and he knew he wouldn't be able to move at all.

However, that didn't prevent him from trying. He began to twitch as much as he could on the kitchen floor, wishing Gilderoy the bitch was as bad with spells as he was stupid.

"There will be time for that, Harry dear; you don't have to show off yet. Your slithering skills will have more than one use, be sure of that..." Gilderoy said as he closed the kitchen door. Then, he squatted by Harry's side and stared at him with dilated pupils.

"So, you're alone, I see..." he said in a soft, husky voice.

"..."

He leaned towards Harry, speaking very close to his face. "Do you know what I came for, Harry doll?" he asked in a whisper.

"..."

"Oh yeah... How can you know? It's a surprise, isn't it?" he added kneeling, his lips almost touching Harry's left ear.

"..."

Gilderoy grabbed a shivering Harry by the shoulders and laid him on his back. "I've come to make all your dreams come true," he stated, looking right into his terrified eyes.

"..."

He then stood up, and added dramatically: "Yes. You can't move, I know. But you can pray. Make a prayer, Harry. Pray, and thank anything you believe in, that you're having your first time with Gilderoy Lockhart."

"...mn... mgng..."

"There's no need to do it aloud, Harry. God listens just the same... " said the blond while walking around the boy.

"...MNGR...WGRRMN..."

"However, I'll have to turn you around... Let's see... Yeah, maybe you'll enjoy it better if I lift the spell... "

Harry looked at him with hopeful eyes.

"Do you think it's a good idea, Harry? Well, I'll do it. I'll lift the spell, but... wait a minute... I had planned to cast a memory charm on you once we were done, and now I see that if I do that, how are you supposed to treasure the happiest event of your life?"

Harry tried to convey in his stare the ultimate degree of anxiety that any human being could ever achieve.

Gilderoy smiled wickedly, just before slowly allowing his whole body rest on top of Harry's, who was still lying on his back. "Maybe the wand won't be necessary... maybe I've got a better tool to take you into oblivion..." he purred, throwing his wand away over his shoulder and softly humping into Harry's hips.

"..MWRRGGRR!!..... BBMPGRRNM!!..."

"Hey! You scream like a pig...! We haven't even started yet...!" Gilderoy sniggered coyly while nibbling Harry's earlobe.

Harry's eyes had started to water.

"Well, I see you're being receptive... I'll lift the spell." Gilderoy stood up and went for his wand. "Where's the damn thing? Oh my! I always do crazy stuff when I'm having fun! I knew you and I will work together Harry, honest!" he moved from one place to another, looking for his wand, talking endlessly. "You should hear my stories; they're very good indeed, very good. My friends got them numbered, so when they want to hear something really hot they go shouting: Hey Gild! Come and tell number three-hundred and ninety one again! That's a very good one, in fact..."

Harry actually prayed for the scumbag to find his wand soon and lift the spell once and for all. He had his own wand ready, stuck in his right hand, which was at the same time stuck to his right leg. Finally, the idiot found it, shouted "Finite Incantatem!" winking his eye, and what happened next can be described as a single "Stupefy!" followed by more "Crucio!" anyone had ever attempted on a single human being. When done, Harry dragged a semi-unconscious Gilderoy out of his house and plunged him into a pigsty.

Next, the boy entered the cabin again and cast as many defensive spells as he could muster in every spot, whether weak or strong. After an hour or so he went out, this time covered by his faithful Invisibility Cloak, and seeing the son of a poodle was gone, he decided to take a stroll to forget what he thought was by far the most humiliating experience of his life. It was true, he had extracted much of his rage by torturing the evil bastard, but his sadness was still there, as a lump in his throat, as a knot in his stomach.

"I know one day I'll be able to leave this hell of a town, this damn hole in a map, this slum, that's more like a drain where the filth gathers... where I certainly don't belong. I want more than this... I wanna go to Paris; see the river, the people, the cocottes... I wanna go to London, see that river too, those people, civilization... Find someone. Someone who could understand -"

A cracking noise put an abrupt end to Harry's discourse. Jumpy as his present condition was, he turned around frightfully, pointing the darkness with his wand. But in spite the boy reckoned nothing could be worse than Gilderoy coming back for more, he realized how utterly wrong he had been as he distinguished Buckbeak, the hippogriff, from the monstrous form that was stomping clumsily towards the cabin. The beast had come home a week beforehand and his rider missing.

Beaky? BEAKY?!! What happened?!!" Harry forgot he was invisible and started to wave his arms frantically to get the hippogriff's attention. The beast, however, heard him and galloped forwards, following his voice.

"What happened!? Where's Hagrid? DAMN IT! ...Wait till I take the skrewt to the barn and grab a thicker cloak. We'll go find Hagrid flying ..." Harry stuttered before running, dragging the cart carelessly fast, back to the cabin.