Harry Potter and the Dragon

XXI

Golden Boys

Gilderoy had a mountain of defects, the most serious of all being his stupidity. However, he had no means of detecting so outstanding a flaw when it was stubbornly clouded by a great amount of vanity and pride. He knew what his friends would say if he went back to Hogsmeade with empty hands, so he had no option, and also a reputation to maintain. Shaking in a cowardly manner, Gilderoy penetrated the Dragon's manor with the countenance of an old woman walking down a dark alley at night.

The place looked so annihilated that it was hard to tell where it had been roofed and where not. But, in spite of the fact that some areas were gone, others still had portraits and ornaments hanging from the walls, as if destruction had acted randomly. Gilderoy began to move into the building, tripping every two seconds, staggering under his heavy backpack over burned pieces of wall and furniture, sweating profusely, and wondering how long it would take for that wretched manor to collapse on top of him.

Eventually, the blond noticed there was a flight of stairs behind a piece of ceiling that loomed threateningly. He considered it safer to move to the upper stories, and ran toward the stairs. Breathing heavily, he took a hand to his chest to calm his hysteric heart. Oh my goodness, what am I doing?

Without an answer for this sensible question he climbed up, expecting to find something quickly; a candlestick, a vase or a clock that looked half way valuable would do. Then, with some treasure to exhibit before his gang, he could go back to the village as the hero he was. But he had to find it first. In order to focus on his search, he decided to leave his backpack in the corridor and started to lurk here and there, getting into dark, destroyed rooms and ransacking old, dusty chests. After a fruitless while, Gilderoy seriously considered going back to the ground floor - at least till he pushed open a door he immediately regretted opening.

As if extracted from the famous marquis' books Gilderoy had great pleasure in perusing during solitary winter nights, a dragon, golden and silent, lay on his back clutching a pillow with his forepaws. The blond couldn't suppress a girlish scream first and then a flood of terrified sobs, which betrayed any attempt he might have wisely had to make his presence pass unnoticed.

The dragon remained motionless, but, when it was no longer possible to pretend deafness, he slowly raised his head. "Who the fuck are you?" he asked lifelessly.

Gilderoy resumed the screaming, but somehow, his wits showed up. "I-I-I... I was just leaving..." he babbled, terrified.

"Then leave," was all the dragon said.

Gilderoy was frozen. Seconds passed, and nothing else. The blond perceived that something there wasn't right. It looked like the beast had no intentions of attacking him. And what was more, that it was battered, defeated and probably sick. Maybe... maybe circumstances were starting to turn in Gilderoy's favor, not strange a thing since he was, and had always been, the gods' favorite pet.

"I... I was wondering if your Dragonship could tell me where... where... where is treasure of this manor... I'd just... I'd just like to take a look at it before departing, so... I could go back to my village and praise this charming place... ac-cording to its merits..." Gilderoy said no more, awaiting the beast's reaction.

The dragon waited a couple of second before sitting. He put the pillow carefully aside and, staring right at Gilderoy's eyes, stated, "Come here... I'll show you my treasure..."

Gilderoy restated. "No, I mean... I mean... I don't want to see the treasure anymore... your word for it would be enough..." he smiled apologetically, wishing the bewitching whiteness of his teeth would be extensive to demons.

"Look, why don't you just FUUUUCK OOOOOFFFFF!!!! FUCK OOOFFF BEFORE I USE YOU TO PLAY 'RUNNING TORCH'!!!!!!! GET YOUR BLOODY ASS OUT OF MY MANOR BEFORE - before..." The dragon's monstrous punishments had lost their characteristic creativity when he had lost his will to live. Not connected with reality anymore, he emitted a sob and let his heavy body collapse on the floor. He made no further movement after reaching for the white pillow he had been holding.

Gilderoy had to gasp for breath. For a moment, he thought his time had come. He could almost feel his glossy golden hair turn white from terror, but distracted by the actual terror of that, he pulled himself together. He knew what seemed to be wrong with the dragon. He knew, then, what to do. And he tried another tactic. "Listen, it looks what you're sad... Is there something I can do to help you cope with the pain you might be experiencing?"

The dragon didn't answer. He was crying as silently as he could. And muttering unconnected sentences that sounded like: "Now maybe... I didn't mean to treat you bad...but I did it anyway... and now maybe...some would say your life was sad... but you lived it anyway...and so maybe...your friends, they stand around, they watch your crumble...as you falter to the ground...and then someday...your friends, they stand beside as you were flying...oh, you were flying oh so high..."

"Oh, I see you're suffering, but everything will be alright -"

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT??!!!" He stood up in a flash. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT??!!! DO YOU KNOW WHAT I'VE BEEN THROUGH??? DO YOU HAVE THE SLIGHTEST IDEA OF WHAT IT FEELS TO HAVE BEEN NEGLECTED??? To have been abandoned... as a fucking, meatless bone... as a useless, stupid skull, with no brains to pick..." The dragon could speak no more.

"Awwwww," said Gilderoy from a healthy distance. "It looks like your heart's been broken... It seems that although I'm a handsome fellow and you, well... it seems we have something in common..." Gilderoy slowly approached the dragon. He had found a weak point to take advantage from. "I've been sad lately, too. I have feelings for someone and, well, those feelings, though corresponded, are not displayed as I'd like - "

"I DON'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOUR BLOODY PROBLEMS!!!"

"Yes! Yes! I used to say the same to everybody who tried to console me! But in the end, I learned that speaking is what helps you endure your other half's stubbornness..." Gilderoy waited to see the dragon's reaction. But after a minute's pause there was no reply. Thinking that working his charms with the dragon could retrieve him with the treasure he had come for in the first place, he ploughed on. "I bet your lady dragon is as sad as you are -"

"SHUUUUT - THE FUCK - UUUUPPPP!!!"

With his eyes blurred by tears, the dragon couldn't aim well. Instead of pawing Gilderoy, he hit and broke one of the posters in Harry's bed. He saw what he had done and cried out so loud that the intact glass in the windows vibrated ominously.

After sending his bladder the message of 'no spilling,' Gilderoy, who had jumped away from the dragon to take shelter behind the curtains, devoted his thinking device to appraise the situation. He didn't pay attention to the fact that his attempts of making friends with the dragon were useless. He was more concerned with the pillow the dragon had been holding. He looked at the bed it probably belonged to. And guessed who could have formerly slept there. Struck by the astounding news, he made up his mind.

"Excuse me. May I have that pillow for a moment, please?"

The dragon stopped crying. He looked at the blond as if he hadn't heard well, unable to reply.

"I just want to smell it," Gilderoy explained.

"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT????????? HOW DARE YOU????????? I WOULD NEVER LET A PIECE OF SHIT LIKE YOU TOUCH THIS PILLOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"I just want to see if it smells like my boyfriend, that's all!" The blond smiled reassuringly.

"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?????????????!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?????? HOW CAN IT SMELL LIKE YOUR BOYFRIEND, IF I'VE NEVER HAD A WHORE HERE IN MY MANOR!!!! NOT EVEN WHEN I'VE BEEN AT MY MOST DESPERATE!!!!!!!!!"

"You're right to call him a whore!! He's nothing but a dirty slut... two months out of town!! I don't know what to do to keep him quiet..."

Gilderoy had launched himself into a race he was sure of winning.

The dragon didn't notice when the pillow escaped his numb forepaws and felt to the floor.

"...he's a good boy, though," Gilderoy continued. "And he loves me, that's the most important of all. But it's impossible to lead a proper love-life when your partner doesn't respect you, I guess..." He cast the dragon a clandestine glance every two syllables, sure he had shot the beast right where he wanted; happy to break his heart, just like Harry had broken his.

The dragon, paralyzed, unable to block his hearing, had to endure Gilderoy's discourse long enough to realize there was still another step beyond eternal suffering and damnation.

"Well... I hope my words have comforted you. As you can see, everybody's got something to cry about. Everybody but dirty Harry, who loves sleeping around, signing every bed he jumps to... What do I see here in this bed? Is that a s -?"

The dragon reacted. "LIAAAAAAAAAAAR!!!! LIAAAAAAAAAAAR!!!! WHAT-!!!! WHO-!!!!!!! WHEN-!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! LIAAAAAAAAAAAAAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

He jerked his head backwards, aimed at Gilderoy and exhaled, with the purpose of casting his most powerful fire-jet ever. But the only thing that came out was a monstrous sob, preceding a crying fit like a furious storm. He covered his head with his paws, and moaned with such intensity that the blond, unable to be sorry for anyone but himself, felt a little mean for what he had done. Thinking of the wonders his persuasion was able to work, Gilderoy tried to pat the beast in the shoulder, suppressing a victorious smile.

"Excuse me... did I say something wrong?"

However, the blonde's words were drawn by the bloodcurdling howls the dragon was emitting. The beast began to move around the room, staggering, upturning furniture and scratching surfaces, even banging his head against the wall. The dragon was blocking his way out, and thinking he might have gone too far, perhaps, Gilderoy started to get really worried as he looked desperately for a hiding place. His eyes fell on the window; the only possible way out, the path towards a certain but surely less painful death.

However, moments later, Gilderoy's sharp cries of fear were distinctively heard, for the dragon had suddenly fallen silent. Breathing irregularly, the beast turned around and faced the intruder. "How do I know that you are telling the truth, you fucking bastard?" he asked in a soft voice, full of suspicion.

"I'm lying! I'm lying! I know no bespectacled, green-eyed wizard named Harry Potter!" moaned Gilderoy. "Please let me out!"

"DON'T LIE TO ME, YOU PRICK!!!!" And after a nervous pause, "Were you serious when you said you were his boyfriend, you RASCAL, SUCKER OF BROKEN COCKS, BASE, PROUD, SHALLOW, BEGGARLY, ILL-FUCKED, ONE-KNUT WORTH, FILTHY, WORSTED-STOCKING KNAVE??? YOU, PANSY-LIVERED, ACTION TAKING WHORESON, ASS-GAZING, ARSE-LICKING, FINICAL ROGUE??? YOU ONE-TRUNK-INHERITING SLAVE??? YOU WANNA BE BAWD, IN A WAY OF THE SERVICE YOU WERE INTENDED TO RENDER, BUT WHO'S NOTHING BUT A KNAVE, BEGGAR, COWARD, PANDER, AND THE SON AND HEIR OF A MONGREL, MUGGLE BITCH!!! THE ONE WHOM I'LL BEAT INTO CLAMOROUS WHINING, IF YOU DON'T ANSWER MY QUESTION, YOU ASSHOOOOLE -!!!!!!"

"I-I-I..." Gilderoy clumsily pondered about it. And feeling irreversibly trapped, he thought that if he was going to die, he would at least have his revenge by getting Harry into a monstrous trouble. "...Yes! We are an item!"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! I can't believe it!!!" The beast struggled not to cry. "PROVE IT, YOU BASTARD!!!!!!!!!!!"

"H-he's got a scar!! In the shape of a lighting bolt!!" shouted Gilderoy shaking, squatted by the wall, his arms covering his face and his eyes wrinkle-shut.

The dragon pulled a puzzled expression before retorting, "BUT EVERYBODY KNOWS THAT!!! EVERYBODY CAN SEE THAT SCAR -!!!"

"He's got a mole, too -!!!"

The dragon jumped in surprise, groaned in rage, punched a nearby wall in jealousy, and asked morbidly, "WHERE????!!!"

"I don't think I should -"

"TELL ME WHERE, YOU SON OF A BITCH -!!!"

"I can't!! He'd kill me if he knew I -!!"

"I'LL KILL YOU IF YOU DON'T SAY AND... I'LL KILL YOU ANYWAY -!!!!!"

"No! No!" Gilderoy shook his head, moaning. "It's private!!" Gilderoy replied, not knowing what to invent in order to gain time.

"IS IT... ON HIS BACK??!!!!" shouted the dragon furious, anxious to know the truth.

Gilderoy meditated for a moment, trying to focus in Harry's imaginary back, seeing if a mole fitted there, delighted with the mental sight in spite of being terrified. "No, I don't think so..." he answered finally, more to himself.

"IS - IS - FUCK!!!" The dragon was trembling from jealousy. "IS IT ON HIS NECK???!!!"

"His neck?" asked Gilderoy. "Let me see..." He was starting to enjoy this. "The neck is a very interesting place... there are soft and light hairs in the back, and a musky -"

"IS THERE A FUCKING MOLE THERE???!!"

"No!" snapped Gilderoy, annoyed by the disturbance.

"WHERE'S THE FUCKING MOLE???!!! HOW DO I KNOW YOU'RE TELLING THE TRUTH, YOU -!!!"

"I am!! Wait, why don't you ask me body part by body part??... If you find out, I'll say YES!!" Gilderoy proposed playfully.

"IS IT ON HIS LEGS???!!!" The dragon cast a sideway glance, expecting to doubt anything Gilderoy told him.

"His legs? Which one?" And seeing the dragon's wrathful expression, he went on, "Oh, his legs!! So thin but yet so athletic!! Covered by thin hairs which deceive the fingertips about the softness of the skin -!"

"DO EITHER OF HIS FUCKING LEGS HAVE A FUCKING MOLE???!!! I can see you're just playing for time... IT'S ALL A LIE -!!!"

"No! No! It's not on the legs!!" interrupted Gilderoy.

"IS IT, THEN... IS IT... ON THE REAR???!!!" asked the dragon warily, scared at the possible answer.

"Oh, we've come to my favorite part! The rear. Well... his rear's got the virtue of -"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, AND TELL ME IF THERE'S SOMETHING THERE BEFORE I BURN YOU TILL YOU'RE A FUCKING PIECE OF COAL, AND TEAR YOU APART AND USE YOU TO WRITE SWEARWORDS ON THE FEW WALLS LEFT IN -!!!"

"But you don't let me speak!!" Gilderoy stood up, feeling safe as long as he was able to keep the dragon intrigued, and started to walk around the room, dodging pieces of broken stuff. "Have you ever noticed how tender certain body parts belonging to certain tender boys in the verge of manhood are? Whose young muscles stretch agilely and warmly, nicely covered by a large amount of skin? Have you ever noticed that the skin is not harsh yet? That it's creamy and flexible, ideal for experimented fingers like mine to test its softness and moisture quality? ..."

Gilderoy kept on lecturing on his favorite subject without noticing that the dragon, who had been an attentive listener to some extent, had his gray, lifeless eyes stuck to the window with a curious expression. There was a shadow out there. And suddenly, the window sprang open after a muffled cry was emitted outside.

Framed by the window, in midair, there was a strange eagle with four feet moving its wings up and down, ridden by no other than the traitor, the green eyes behind the glasses, the Wizard kind's sweetheart, the Quidditch lover, the insolent prick, the scarred and supposedly mole-ornate boy, the one who had taught an evil beast the deepest and most complex emotion behind the basic mating instinct. Harry Potter was moving across the window frame, at the rhythm of the bird-like beast's wings flapping.