Harry Potter and the Dragon

XIII

Breaking Rules, Breaking Bones

" ...Chateaux Margaux, Latour, Lafite Rothschild, Mouton Rothschild, Haut-Brion, Y'Dquem... over there, Pinot Noir, Pinot Blanc, Chardonnay... as you can see, sir, I collects all kind of information that I hears, sir..."

Harry nodded, thinking that that was kind of obvious for a wastebasket. They had been in the wine cellar for a while and he was starting to get cold. Not to mention bored.

The tour around the manor had produced mixed emotions in Harry. On one hand, he had marveled at the simple idea that such a startling place existed. On the other, he had felt dramatically annoyed at the impressive sight of fine furniture, dazzling paintings, sublime statues, and wonderful walls being in a sad and deplorable state: halfway burned or singed, sometimes broken to pieces, most of the time scratched and/or dented. The dining room table, that was so long that probably rivaled with the dragon's bed, had a serious bruise in its midst, as if the white marble snake statue beside it had collapsed on its surface. The statue itself now conformed two severed stone blocks, and had been carefully placed next to its pillar. The family museum was beyond recognition, suggesting that the dynasty that had formerly owned the manor had gone through a holocaust. The mini-zoo, as well as the stables, were empty of creatures. Harry didn't want to think what could have happened to them. He only felt glad that the remaining objects were evidently repairing some of the damaged parts, since he spotted ladders and scaffolds working in some areas.

After leaving the wine cellar, Harry went straight to the stairs and started to climb down, but the wastebasket reacted very badly. "No, sir! You can't go down there! Those is the Dungeons!"

"Who said I couldn't? What's left of this beautiful house is my home now, I'm entitled to go everywhere!" answered Harry stubbornly, for he perfectly remembered what the dragon had said.

"But... but... Master may get angry! You is not supposed to make him angry! Dobby will be given clothes if I is letting you go down there!"

"Clothes? What's the problem with clothes?" asked Harry, puzzled.

"Dobby will be taken to Master's personal privy and get Master's dirty toilet clothes ... Dobby is scared!"

"Nauseated more likely... Well, I'd never make you go through all that shit. Let's go back upstairs."

Harry, however, was determined to see what "Master" was hiding in the dungeons. He knew that curiosity had led him to danger many times in the past, but unfortunately, he couldn't help it. I may have one bad hell of a life, but that doesn't mean I can't go looking for trouble on my own, does it? ... At least it feels like I'm in charge...

"Dobby never thought Master Harry was such a noble person, he knew he was good and had a big heart, but never guessed he could be so benevolent with a little wastebasket like me..." Dobby went on speaking for a while, sobbing, and Harry felt a bit guilty for his already planned intrusion. Fucking Dragon, he's got no heart, no brains, and no manners, he continued musing while climbing the stairs' steep stone steps. But when they got to a landing, Harry made up a silly excuse and departed from Dobby. Unseen, he descended to the lowest and darkest section of the manor.

Right in the antechamber of hell, Harry tried to walk as soundlessly as a cat, a dripping ceiling above and a slippery floor at his feet. Once facing the creepy gates he had some doubt, but then he thought that if he went away now he would probably be back tomorrow, or the day after, and being that the case, it was better to do it now than wait longer for the obvious outcome.

Harry pushed open the doors and entered the place, holding his breath. The room was loaded with a dense, sulfuric atmosphere that made his eyes prickle. He advanced as his senses got used to the caustic reek, and then he could glimpse what he thought was no surprise. Everything here seemed to be pieces of a past unitary something. Broken furniture, burned walls, a ripped off portrait... Wait, who's there in that painting? It looks like a blond boy... Surely the dragon ate him... Can't see his face...

A couple of grunts made Harry brusquely turn around. "Who's there?" More grunting. Harry came closer to what it seemed to him was the source of the noise and found out, to his utter puzzlement, that there were furnishings that didn't speak at all but growled instead.

"What's the matter?" he said amiably to a wardrobe.

"Grrr! Grrgrfgrhrfg!" it answered.

"Well! Let's see what you have in store!" Harry said, opening the wardrobe's door. Inside, there were beautiful sets of robes in different colors, but before he could even touch their apparently delicate fabrics, the wardrobe shut close and growled more furiously.

"Hey! You almost cut my hand off, you fucking chunk of wood!" the boy said angrily, kicking the massive object. As a response it leaned forwards and Harry, to avoid its shards of broken mirror, stepped back and hit a trunk that immediately started to open and close its lid as if intending to bite him. "Stupid stuff! I never thought there were hostile ones, but then they live here, with the king of pricks..."

Turning around to get away from such quarrelsome gits, Harry saw a dancing pink light, projected on the rocky bricks, at the other side of the room. When crossing the wide chamber in order to see what the strange brightness was, he spotted something that made his heart suffer a sudden but lately common variance in pace.

A well polished, brand new, carefully trimmed, and surely dead expensive broomstick was proudly hanging from a couple of golden pegs attached to the wall. Open-mouthed, Harry glided forwards, and soon he was near enough to see its utter perfection and fancy name. It was a Firejet, one of the most famous broomsticks in the known world, and although it seemed to be in better conditions than any other living or inanimate object in the manor, Harry couldn't help noticing that the model was rather old. Maybe it belonged to the boy in the portrait... But, why not escape in it, though? Maybe he didn't want to escape... Maybe the Dragon and he were friends... yeah, that explains why the scaled bitch has the broomstick in these pegs, like it's a treasure... Maybe they loved each other -urgh - and then the boy cheated on the beast, and the dragon ate him... Yeah! That's why the portrait's torn... Wait a minute! Why lovers? What's the fuck's wrong with me? ...But the dragon got really pissed off when I called him a ponce... Yeah! Maybe he's really a poof! He's a poof! Ha! Gilderoy would be fascinated here - okay, stop. You're living a nightmare; you're not supposed to dwell into even fouler stuff...

Harry moved away from the broomstick as if trying to get away from his thoughts. He remembered the strange pink gleam and retraced his steps, but something else prevented him from advancing.

"What? A wingless Snitch!" he couldn't help saying aloud. He picked up a sad little ball that was lying on the dirty floor. Its wings were missing. "Not even something as small as you is safe from that cocksucker!"

Harry pocketed the ball and continued advancing towards the mysterious light ahead. Soon, he found himself facing a small, long-legged table that on top had something Harry reckoned was by far the strangest object he had seen in that eccentric manor. It was a transparent glass container, in the shape of a bell, which housed a floating, sparkling red rose.

"Sissy little prince, so you are a downright faggot!" Harry laughed, realizing the dragon was probably keeping people away from his dungeons only to avoid getting busted with his effeminate, minuscule greenhouse. "You surely spend your lonely hours playing 'he loves me, he loves me not,'" he said through a smirk, looking at the fallen petals by the flower. But then, yet another rarity caught his attention. By the glass bell there was a mirror.

"Aw! And here's where you put your make up on! But, what can disguise your pathetic deformed attempt of a reptilian face? Yeah, I was right; Satan's kinky kitten is a poof! Ha ha ha!" Harry said happily, convinced that he had important information to use against the dragon. "Now that I think of it, I've been here for a while and he hasn't showed up. I better leave."

He was moving towards the gates when he noted a corridor on his right. Shrugging, he let his feet take him into the opening, and once he had advanced six feet or so, he found himself facing a rectangular room, much smaller than the main room. It contained several heaps of straw and one enormous cauldron. Two or three torches burned in silence, leaving smoky traces up the walls. Despite being alone, Harry felt somehow uncomfortable, like he was trapped in a dead end. He turned around to leave, and when he did, he saw that the way had been blocked.

The dragon was standing on his hind legs, claws contracted, and head slowly jerking backwards, as if he was about to start berating or worse Harry thought, because using the infinitesimal second in which people usually see their lives pass before their eyes, Harry realized that the dragon was about to propel a jet of fire.

As Harry was human and humans are supposed to possess a surviving instinct, he jumped back to the room and hid behind what he had at hand: the cauldron. Barely covered, he made himself as tiny as possible, and that way he luckily avoided being roasted by the first display of raging flames. The dragon's roars blasted the room, Harry sensed them cracking his eardrums.

To wait for the second attack in better conditions, he clumsily plunged into the cauldron. No sooner had he done that he got completely covered by a sticky substance that smelled good. He had dived into a giant bowl of chocolate fudge. However, he was far too scared to dip a finger in the pool; he contented himself by licking his lips, closing his eyes, and also trying to think something revealing since he was on the verge of dying.

Once the second conflagration had ceased, Harry felt he was being pulled from the cauldron by a sharp, powerful claw. He opened his eyes to look at the dragon on eye level. His nostrils were dilated and thick curling snakes of smoke were emerging from them. The dragon's face was contorted in fury; Harry, covered by chocolate, looked like a bonbon with human form and center of dread.

"FUCK!! FUUUUUCK!! DIDN'T I TELL - LISTEN, YOU, FUCKING ASSHOLE - WHAT THE - WHY ARE YOU HERE??? WHYYY AAARE YOUU HEERE??" The beast bellowed right in Harry's face, his words clashing, dangling the boy violently all the while. "DIDN'T I TELL YOU THAT I WAS GOING TO - I WAS GOING TO KILL YOU?? DIDN'T I?? NOW, NOOOOOW YOU'VE MADE ME FURIOUS!! NOOOOW YOU'VE DONE IT - I HATE YOU!! I HATE YOU, BLOODY BASTARD!!!!!! GET - OUT - OF - MY - SIGHT!!!!!

To make his command even clearer, the dragon threw Harry back to the dungeon's main hall in an excessive demonstration of strength. The boy collapsed hard against the stone floor, his scream unable to hide a cracking noise and a loud thud produced by his head. He fainted.

***

When Harry regained consciousness he found himself lying on his bed. Someone was speaking nearby. He felt his body shaking from pain, sticky from chocolate, and his eyes were blurred for his glasses weren't in their usual position.

"Come on, drink this, you'll feel better," said a worried voice escorted by the sound of liquid being poured into a vessel.

Harry shifted slowly until he was sitting and took the steaming cup. He drank, his sight became a bit clearer. He saw a clock, Lupin the candlestick, Mrs. Weasley the teapot, and her son Ron in his own hand, all of them looking at him anxiously.

"That potion I've just brewed will mend your broken bones, if there's any..."

"Of course he's all broken!! Or d'you think that bloody Master -"

"Ron!! Shut up!!"

"No harsh comments will be made regarding Master!!"

"Please, be quiet! This boy's been hurt!"

Harry drank some more sips and immediately felt much better. He didn't feel obliged to say "thanks" though. He was extremely annoyed. Despite the kind behavior of all the living objects, he thought that if he stayed longer in that enchanted prison he would be murdered sooner or later. There was no option but leaving at that very moment.

"Listen, I think I should go now. I can't stand being here another second. I'm sorry, but I don't feel like living in a place where I'll never know when I'm going to be roasted..." He made to stand up from the bed, but the candlestick jumped to his lap.

"But my friend! This has been a terrible accident! It doesn't mean this is going to happen again! Please, reconsider your decision!"

"I have nothing to reconsider. I'm leaving. You've been nice and all... Well... But I'm sorry. I have to go -"

"But you can't leave now, boy! You've been hurt! You have to rest for a while!" the teapot said briskly.

"Yeah, stay! Don't go now!" pleaded the little cup from his right hand.

"Okay," he said, irritably, in order to stop that conversation. "...Would you leave me alone? I need to clean myself and change my robes," he concluded, looking away.

"I'll stay with you. You haven't finished the potion yet. I know it tastes like shit, but it'll do you good -"

"Ron! How many times I've told you not to use that word!"

"We'll leave you alone as you want, boy. We have some things to sort out in the meantime," the candlestick spoke before going out of Harry's chamber, along with the clock and the teapot.

Once alone, Harry left Ron the teacup in the night table, cleaned his glasses, put them on, and stood up to look through the window. He was planning to escape unnoticed.

"I'll help you go away if you promise something," he heard the cup say suddenly.

"What? Really? D'you wanna help me?" Harry turned around hopefully.

"Of course I do. I know what it means to live here, with that prick. I think you have to be nuts if you wanna stay, and you don't look like you're nuts to me... If you stick to my plan, they won't notice you're gone till it's too late. But - I'll only help you if you take me with you..."

"OK!" said Harry happily. He had liked the cup and thought he could be perfectly welcomed in the cabin.

Therefore, both object and subject started planning how to go successfully back to the village Harry had been so desperate to leave only a few hours before.

***

"NOBODY RESPECTS ME!!!! NOBODY, IN THIS FUCKING MANOR MY ANCESTORS BUILT, WHERE ALL YOU PIECES OF FILTH HAVE BEEN BORN, RAISED, AND FED, RESPECTS ME!!!! NOBODY GIVES A SHIT ABOUT WHAT I SAY!!!! IF I STATE A RULE, THAT RULE HAS TO BE OBEYED!!! YES!!! NOBODY, NO FUCKING ASSHOLE HAS THE RIGHT TO QUESTION MY AUTHORITY HERE!! I'LL HAVE TO REMIND HIM, AND ALL OF YOU, WHAT HAPPENS TO THOSE WHO DARE TO INFRINGE WHAT'S COMMANDED BY A MA -!!!"

"Master! You've come back!" voiced Snape, the clock, the second he crossed the kitchen's threshold.

The dragon was again on his four legs, this time walking violently, swinging his long tail, spitting furious sparks. He had been addressing Filch the mop, who had pulled a face according to the circumstances and was nodding approvingly to every one of his Master's utterances. The dragon turned around to the sound of the clock's words.

"Master, you shouldn't have gone away like that...you might have been seen -!" Lupin began.

"OF COURSE I WAS SEEN!!! AND SO WHAT?!!!... I went to fly over some Muggle village, and a monkey or two must have caught sight of me, but who cares, nobody survived to tell the tale... not even the cows -" Master pointed out smirking.

"Master! That was an unnecessary display of violence!" said Mrs. Weasley astonished.

"OOH, WAS IT?? WELL, BLAME IT ON THE BLOODY WANKER WHO WENT AND DID EXACTLY WHAT HE WAS TOLD NOT TO DO!!!"

"Master, you're scaring the boy off! He wants to leave the manor!"

"LET HIM GO AWAY!!! LET HIM GO BACK TO HIS MOM!!! HOW DARE HE???!!! HOW DARE HE BREAK HIS PROMISE!!! I'LL SHOW HIM! HE'LL SEE WHAT I'LL -!!!"

"NO, MASTER! You can't go and hit him again!" said Lupin desperately. "You'll kill him!"

"THAT'S THE IDEA, YOU EARWAX!!! HE RUINED MY CHOCOLATE!!! HE ENTERED MY ROOM!!!"

"Master, give him a chance, please! The boy's our salvation!"

"I HAVEN'T HAD A PEACEFUL MINUTE SINCE HE CAME HERE!!! LOOK WHAT HE'S DONE!!!! HE'S MADE ME GO AND KILL THOSE BASTARDS!!! IT'S HIS FAULT! I HATE HIM!!! The fucking prick... He's been laughing at me since he came here! He's insulted me! He's not even noticed that I tried to be nice -!!"

"Have you, Master? Have you tried to be nice to him?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"OF COURSE!!! AND HE MOCKED ME!!!"

"Well, that's hard to believe -"

"ARE YOU SAYING I'M A LIAR??!!"

"No! I'm just saying that this is the perfect chance for you to be nice to him, to apologize, so we can all witness the efforts you're making in winning the boy's affection!" stated the teapot.

"I DON'T -!! I NEVER SAID -!! ...WELL!! OKAY!! I'LL FUCKING APOLOGIZE!!" shouted the dragon and stormed out of the kitchen.

The household elements immediately abandoned their positions and, forming a parade of possessions, hastily followed their Master.

The dragon stopped dead outside Harry's chamber. The objects kept silent, shielded by walls, curtains and larger furniture, trying to get as close as they could without being caught eavesdropping. Lupin, Snape and Mrs. Weasley, however, stood by their Master's side, ready to supervise the scene.

The dragon waited for a couple of seconds before speaking: "I'm sorry I tried to kill you. But you GOT INTO MY PRIVATE CHAMBERS, AND I TOLD YOU NOT TO -!!!"

"Master, please. Get serious!" Lupin was smoking more than usual since he was getting heated.

"I'M BEING AS SERIOUS AS I CAN!!... Well, as I was saying, I'm sorry... Please, come out, we can go play in the yard, or we can have lunch, there's chocolate cake for dessert, well, NOT NOW THAT YOU RUINED THE CHOCOLATE FUDGE I WAS TESTING -!!!"

"Master, let's this over with, please!" spoke Snape the clock after suppressing the alarm bells he had used to catch his Master's attention. The dragon was starting to tick him off.

"Yes... The thing is... I can make it up to you if you try to be nice with me, 'cause the way you've treated me so far is not fair... You've been insolent with me all the while!!... AND THAT REALLY PISSES ME OFF!! THAT REALLY PISSES ME OFF A GREAT DEAL!! I TOLD YOU I WAS YOUR MASTER AS WELL!! YOU'RE A PRISONER BUT YOU SHAMELESSLY - WHY ARE YOU IGNORING ME?? WHAT'S YOUR FUCKING PROBLEM?? I'M HERE, TRYING TO WORK THINGS OUT, AND YOU -!!"

"Despite the fact that it seems everything is going to the dogs I think it will come out right. They already look like a married couple to me," said Mrs. Weasley to Lupin, after they have turned around and started to go back to the kitchen, followed by Snape.

"WHAT?? WHAT DID YOU SAY, YOU BLOODY FAT PIECE OF CHINA??" the dragon bellowed after the teapot. "LISTEN TO ME, YOU BASTARD!! I'LL GET INSIDE THE ROOM AND I'LL KILL YOU NOOOOW!!"

The dragon pushed the door with his monumental strength and found himself facing Harry's empty bedroom, white curtains flapping violently like ghosts in the breeze.