Harry Potter and the Dragon

XIX

Barned, but Never Beaten

"Fuck, this is so frustrating..." Ron was tired from carrying water from Fluffy's bowl and sprinkle it on his housemates' faces. "How I wish I was back into my gorgeous body, to be able to curse them out!" he said, dispirited. Ron knew a wand was required to make them regain consciousness, but there was nothing else he could do. "Wherever I am, things fuck up. The manor? Fucked up. Here? Fucked up."

He finally gave up trying to help his friends and set himself down to take a rest. "I never really expected the curse to be broken... I knew it was impossible that someone could fall in love with that fucking, horrible beast, and even less after he got transformed into a dragon," he sighed, "but at least I wanted to end my days as a dignified infusion container, old and cracked, suffering a painless death by being suddenly shattered, or trodden, or falling from a shelf..."

He devoted some more time to ponder about the tragedies his life had held, the sweet pond of self-pity he was immersed in unable to block the metallic noise an unknown somebody was producing by handling the barn lock. Ron stiffened, opened his single ear even more, and listened.

"Harry? Harry, are you alright?" And after a moment, "Hagrid? Hagrid, can you hear me?" whispered a girl's voice.

"Yes?" answered Ron.

"Harry? Harry, is that you?" The voice got excited.

"No, it's... It's Ron, Harry's friend!" Since he was hollow, Ron made his voice deepen and reverberate.

"Ron? Harry's friend?" A pause of puzzlement, probably. "Well... Do you know where Harry is?" she asked.

"Yeah, actually, he's right here...!" he replied promptly.

"There? HARRY! Harry, it's me, Hermione!" Ron presumed she was jumping from anxiety. "Harry! What happened!? I just saw Umbridge and those clowns going to the Three Broomsticks! They were laughing, and looking smug, and it seemed they were planning something! I just hope Madame Rosmerta is keeping an eye on them... But tell me about you! What happened? How come you escaped from that manor? And that beast? Did it hurt you? Are you fine? Why didn't you owl me before coming! I would have warned you to come stealthily, because as soon as you'd set foot on Hogsmeade Gilderoy was going to make the dementors come and kiss you! Is Hagrid there with you? Harry? Harry?"

Silence sprawled once more.

"Listen, Harry can't hear you. He's been stunned," Ron explained.

"Stunned? Why didn't you tell me that before?" asked Hermione crossly.

"And why don't you open the gates?" retorted Ron.

Ron heard her try Alohomora a couple of times, a fact that revealed that the barn gates had been locked with a special kind of spell. They were certainly fucked up. But then she muttered incantations of obscure nature, and finally something made them give in.

She stormed inside, wand in hand and looking frightened. She spotted her inanimate friends and ran forwards, kneeling by their sides like an ardent romantic heroine. Her soft compassionate moans were suddenly replaced by an ear-splitting cry when her eyes fell on the teacup. "What is this?! A living cup! How has this been accomplished? For Morgan's sake! This is very powerful dark magic!"

"I don't bite, though," said Ron coyly.

"But - but - but -" she blurted.

"Listen, there's no time to lose!" Ron had finally decided to show his courage. "That git you mentioned, that Geldingboy or whatever his name is, is planning to loot my ex-Master's manor along with that pack of idiots! Once they're done, which is, I hope, never -'cause they don't know what they're doing- they'll be here with those black scarecrows to... to..."

Ron lost his track of thought. All of a sudden, he discovered that his bright and rounded eyes matched perfectly with the apparently soft and warm cavity in the girl's bosom. She noticed, and brusquely snatched the cup to place it up to eye level.

"What are you looking at, you filthy cup of perversions? Why should I trust you? You've been created by a dark wizard, I know that!"

"Yeah, but I'm good! I'm as white as fine porcelain! There's no sinful stain to mar the purity of my patterns!" he said innocently.

"Listen, I'll deal with you later. I have to enervate my friends..." She cast the spells in two seconds like a professional, skilled witch. Ron had no time to peep under her robes as he had planned, when Harry and Hagrid opened their swollen eyes.

Facts, schemes, ideas, pros and cons about the imminent escape were generously discussed after introductions were made. Ron learnt that Hermione was Harry's friend from childhood ...How come the git never told me he was acquainted with such a beauty? Maybe the asshole indeed plays for the same Quidditch team than Ma - I mean, than the bitchy git... and Hermione was wowed at the notion that the beast's servants were living household objects ...They seem to be nice, but it all smells like dark magic to me, like they've been transfigured... well, that's not important now...

"So, they're really planning to plunder the manor..." said Harry, frowning.

"That means we don't need to run away!" jumped Ron happily. "Harry and I know what we're talking about. And so does Hagrid. They won't even have time to say a prayer for Satan; actually, they'll be eaten alive by his most fervent follower!"

Harry's stomach lurched. "But... but... It's my fault that those bastards are going to cause trouble there; you know how Snape gets when he has to concoct potions for -!"

"- and since when do you care about Snape?!" Ron retorted.

Harry felt a pang of uneasiness. Yes, since when do I care for that nosy clock? He thought. "I care about Lupin, though. He always has to cope with the clock's -"

"Harry, they'll be all right! It's better that we're here actually, because when there's a row in the manor... Once, a couple of years ago..."

Ron commenced to tell a gory story about some homely quarrel in which he had almost lost his ear, but Harry wasn't listening. The cocktail of feelings that had been intoxicating his mind had started to wear out. He had left in order to rescue Hagrid, but that didn't mean he wanted to leave the manor forever. Snape was just a stupid, monothematic and restless clock, but portrayed as a memory from the past his sole, ugly face produced in Harry a deep sense of loss, turning into a picture of the wonderful time he had had. Lupin was a nice fellow, strict and wise, and being deprived from his brightness and warmth made Harry feel a bit in the darkness.

And Master...well. Master provoked the deepest stab of all. Harry knew that the beast didn't need his warning, that he could easily improvise a defensive tactic being the war machine he was. He also reckoned that showing up in the battlefield could only convey danger for him and his friends, as opposed to delivering indispensable information for the draconic faction. Besides, there was the memory that persisted vividly in his mind in spite of the headache that was taking over from lack of sleep: the dragon determining against seeing him again. Why did Harry think that that was absolutely unfair? Why did he feel so miserable about it? He cast a fleeting look at the golden robes he was still wearing. In the course of the day's events they had gotten stained. He would have to clean them. With his own hands. Yes, it was in his hands to mend the situation.

"Listen, I don't know if you're with me or not, but I'm going back to the manor. I have to return the dragon his robes..." Harry then shut up, ignoring the confused, piercing gazes around.

"Harry! There's no point -!" the cup interrupted his tale to contradict his mate.

"As I told you," said Harry looking down to the floor, keeping deliberately calmed. "You can be with me or not. This is my responsibility. I'll just do what I think is right..."

"Harry, of course I'll help you!" said Hermione, eyes lighting at the prospect of getting involved in such a peculiar adventure.

"Of course, Harry. You can count on us by all means!" reassured Ron eagerly.

"Harry, son, if it's important ter yeh..." smiled Hagrid.

"Thank you." The boy looked up at his three friends and stated, "Hermione, you better go and ask Madame Rosmerta any information she may have about the planned raid. In the meantime, we'll wait inside the cabin. We'll set everything up to make it look like we're still stunned in the barn."

"Okay, Harry. I'll be as quick as I can!" said the girl while moving hastily towards the gates.

"Hermione!" called Harry. "Please, be discreet..." The girl just rolled her eyes and departed.

"No one can be more discree' than Hermione," chuckled Hagrid. "Tha' I haven' bin kissed I owe it ter her..."

"Now that you mention it Hagrid, I think you shouldn't go. You're still seriously injured, and that can only be dangerous for you -"

"Nah! 'Tis nuttin'!"

"Listen! Seeing as the Dumb Team is away there's no reason for you to hide! You can rest for a while -!"

"Harry! I wanna help!"

Harry and Hagrid kept on arguing for some time, the former never able to convince the latter to stay home. Hermione was back soon and, according to what she informed, the plan was traced. Since Umbridge and her Inquisitorial Squad were due to sail at sunrise, they had the chance of having a relatively good night's sleep.

Therefore, the barn was disguised before going back to the cabin, and after casting defensive spells all over they went to bed, to gather strength for the day they had ahead. It didn't take them long to drop off, lulled by Hagrid's soporific snoring. But Harry, although he had missed a night's rest, couldn't help lying awake in his bed for a while, thinking that the sheets had an unfamiliar smell, the mattress was harder than he remembered, and his white, fluffy pillow wasn't as soft as the touch of monstrous, dangerously sharp claws.