Harry Potter and the Dragon

XIV

A Tale as long as Time

"I'll have two."

"There you are."

"Thanks."

"Igor?"

Karkaroff looked at his cards while scratching his cheek. Then, he extended four bony fingers.

"There you are."

He made it to pick his cards but stopped in mid-action. "What's that, Fudge?"

"Your cards..."

"But I asked for four!"

"Stop whining, there are two aces and a queen there!"

"What?" shouted Wormtail. "You gave me a three and a two! And clovers! You know I hate them!" he exclaimed slamming his game on the table. In front of him, Zacharias did the same.

"What's the matter?! I haven't even hit you yet!"

"I just can't understand you being so calm... It's been two days already!"

"He'll come back, don't worry..." Igor Karkaroff said distractedly while shifting his cards. "...I guess I have a full," he muttered to himself. "Are you sure you're out?" he added, looking left and right.

"I reckon we should be looking for him -!" moaned the boy.

"Listen, Smith, he'll be crossing that door any second -" Igor began.

In that precise moment, the pub door opened. The four men turned to look at it hopefully, curiously, skeptically and diverted. But all their expressions turned to disappointment. Strangers, wrapped by thick, black cloaks, had just entered the place. The four friends went back to their business, but it seemed someone had a business with them.

A scarred, man the size of a wardrobe stood behind Wormtail. Another, rather fat and square, heavily jawed like an extra-large trunk, loomed at the four gamblers over the corner of the table. The latter dipped his hand in an inner pocket and took it out slowly, fingering an object he then threw on the table.

Those sitting slid their puzzled eyes to the thing in front of them. It looked like a stained piece of cloth. Cornelius extended a hand and touched it. He lifted to his eye-level, trying to make out what it was. But someone else was faster in grasping its significance.

"NOOOOOOOOOO!!!" shouted Zacharias hysterically, rising from his chair in terror.

"What the hell -?!" exclaimed Igor.

"What is this?" asked Cornelius, still squinting at the strange thing in his hand.

"NOOO!" shouted Zacharias again. This time, Wormtail joined him. "W-who are you?! W-where is he?!" he whimpered scared.

And then it dawned on Cornelius that the thing he had taken as a badly dyed, rough piece of cloth was in fact a lock of blond hair dampened in dry congealed blood. All four of them stood up brusquely to take shelter behind Zacharias.

The man that stood behind Wormtail's chair spoke tonelessly after a moment. "Your friend... buried." He rummaged heavily into his robes and extracted a piece of paper, "If you keep plaguing -" he stared at the paper for a long while, "-Hagrid," he said finally, "you'll join him."

The two scary strangers then turned tail and started walking towards the door, making the old wooden floor creak even more that a certain half-giant, a former regular customer. By the table, Cornelius and Igor stood pale, shocked, unaware of Wormtail's shrilly sobs and of the deaf thud caused by young Zacharias collapsing.

Just before reaching the Three Broomstick's entrance, the dark spokesman looked to his right and addressed a very confused landlady. "Your name -" he performed again the ritual of taking out the piece of parchment, staring at it fixedly, and eventually saying "- Rosmerta?"

"Yes?" she answered nervously.

The other man dipped one more time his hand into a pocket and produced a bag. He threw it to the bar. It clattered.

With no further explanation, both left.

***

Hagrid was busy writing a letter. Two long days had passed since Harry and his friends had gone away on their mission, and although he was not worried - well, not really...just a bit...- he thought that it was time to demand news. He knew that if things had gone wrong Buckbeak would have showed up immediately, because there was no faster creature in the world when it came to escape from danger. And he had been notoriously absent. He mus' be havin' a grea' time, I bet... well, I just hope he's fine...and unhurt... and alive, fer Pegasus' sake!!

He had already finished the greeting part, the scolding, the nagging paragraph as well and was starting the desperate one, when he heard a knock in the front door. He lifted the quill, waiting for more knocks, but that was all. Bemused, he stood up to open the door quickly, expecting good news, but all he found at the other side were two strangers with aggressive expressions half-hidden by their cloak caps.

"You -" said one of the two while pocketing his hand, taking out a piece of parchment, and looking at it while some birds chirruped in a nearby tree, " -Hagrid?"

"Yeah!" the half-giant growled warily.

"In," retorted the speaker.

Without waiting for an answer, the men entered the cabin. Hagrid turned around to properly inquire who the devil they were, but the sound of metal hitting the table made him stop dead. On top of his unfinished letter there was a big bag, presumable full of gold.

"What's this?" Hagrid asked defensively. Being paid for something he knew nothing about struck him as dodgy.

"Dowry." The spokesman said simply.

"What? Dowry? Wha' the hell are yeh talkin' about?"

The other man produced a folded piece of parchment and gave it to Hagrid. The half-giant snatched it violently, but his warrior pose melted instantly when he noticed the handwriting. It was Harry's. He started to read desperately, fearing that his foster-child was captive in some even stranger place but, in spite of not being able to fully understand a single sentence, he realized that the letter had been written in a somehow joyful tone, and therefore he calmed down and turned to the strangers. "Where's he? Can yeh take me ter him?"

For an answer, the two hooligans flanked him and, taking him by the arms, steered him rather indelicately towards a black carriage that sported black window glasses. Hagrid cast a brief glance at the sour-faced driver, who wore black clothes as well. He didn't trust these people at all, but his urge of seeing Harry was much stronger. So he let himself be driven to his greatest concern in life: his Harry.

***

The sun shone as a sulky, blurred orb behind the dull cloud cover that had just stretched above, as if reminding the dwellers of those lands that winter was approaching by casting cold, ghostly shadows in the Centaur Forest's creepiest corners. However, nothing in that haunted knot of vegetation could possibly look darker than the raven-like carriage moving along the winding inky way.

Hagrid's anxiety about Harry had subsided a bit, and because of that he was striving not to doze off on top of the red velvet carriage seats. They had been traveling for a couple of hours, going through the woods in an most aggressive fashion; the silent emissaries peering out of the windows with their thick wands ready to shoot the maker of any sudden movement outside, whether it be a little squirrel or a bigger one.

Eventually, the vehicle halted in front of what Hagrid recognized were the iron gates he had crossed two months ago, when escaping from the rampaging centaurs. The driver dismounted and went to open them. Then, they penetrated the property and set off through the grounds until the manor's impressive front door was face to face with the carriage's one. Hagrid was sliding towards it when a young man opened it from the outside.

"Welcome to Malfoy Manor!" he said, smiling.

"Well, thanks," replied Hagrid, pleased. He remembered that place as a child's dream house, full of nice speaking toys. It seemed that the toys had been replaced by human beings, judging by the boy's nice manners.

"My name is Oliver and I'm the doorkeeper. I'll lead you to Master's presence," he grinned.

"No need," grunted the escorts. "We'll do it." They grabbed Hagrid and led him inside, the half-giant barely able to make out a raised eyebrow in the doorkeeper's face. It seemed those two were not very popular.

Hagrid had to strive to connect his memories of the doomed dwelling he had visited that night with the wonder he was presently touring. It looked like an enchanted palace, decorated by some baroque fairy godmother with an obvious like for snakes. After crossing high-roofed rooms, walking by rich curtains and marble columns, passing under looming archways, and even taking a glimpse of a hissing fountain amidst a courtyard bathed by scattered yellow leaves, they finally stopped outside a magnificent door, just when Hagrid's jaw was getting tired of so much gaping. The man at his right knocked once. They waited for some moments in the customary silence before hearing a manly voice say "Come in," and then entering.

Once inside the room, whose first view provided a generous display of refined wooden furniture, Hagrid's escorts darted immediately towards a lacquered desk and settled themselves beside the black leather chair behind it. Hagrid advanced dubiously; the chair was presenting its high back and he wasn't sure there was someone sitting there. But then, it abruptly swirled around and he saw a fair boy, no older than Harry, looking up to him with an arrogant expression.

Hagrid glanced back confused, thinking of what to say, but the boy had already disassembled his sneer just to drawl, "The half-giant..." And as his remark didn't need a response, he went on. "So... you've decided to show up. What's the matter? Wasn't the bag fat enough?"

The bag?" And after recalling the inexplicable present the two minions had given him, "Oh... Wha' was that? What are yeh givin' me money fer?" Hagrid spat.

"You didn't tell him?" the boy asked dismissively, turning to look at the man at his right.

"We did," he grunted. "We said 'dowry.'"

"Dowry? But... What are yeh givin' me a dowry fer?! Who the hell are yeh?! Where's Harry?! I came 'ere all the way ter see him! Where is he?!" Hagrid's anxiety emerged in the light of the dark affairs he was starting to foresee.

The boy remained silent, neither taking his cold eyes away from the half-giant's massive form, nor modifying the pout that had come to seal his lips. Then, he muttered scornfully, "Now I see why Harry's never exercised rationality... he has never had a proper example of how a well-functioning mind works...till now, of course..." he smirked.

"What d'yeh mean? Where's he!? Are yeh a criminal? What've yeh done ter him?!"

"I'm afraid it would be a little inelegant of me to answer that last question," the boy stood up and walked around the desk, "but I can enlighten you in the other matters..." he halted face to breastbone with the big man. "I must admit I have no idea of where Harry is at the moment. He may be practicing Seeking since I'm engaged otherwise, or ransacking the pantry as he's prone to do..." he said with a superior air, and added hastily before Hagrid could retort, "and concerning the money, that gold is yours. I'm taking your boy away and I'm paying you in return. That's what civilized people would call a dowry -"

"I know what a dowry is!" replied Hagrid crossly. "What d'yeh mean yeh're takin' him away from me?!"

"This manor's been his home for two months now. He went away just for a couple of days, in order to rescue you from a silly hiking you seemed to be involved in, but now he's back, and he'll stay here forever, and ever, as he promised -"

"What?!!"

"- Now, I suggest you accept the money and have fun buying the chickens some food, or a castle, or whatever ... it's none of my business -"

"Where's Harry!!" Hagrid's temper was rising threateningly. "I don' give a damn about yer bloody money! I WANNA SEE HIM!!"

"Please, sir, mind your attitude! I'd never seen such outrageous behavior!!"

"WHERE'S HARRY??!!"

"Crabbe!! Goyle!! Show this stupid oaf how we deal with trouble makers!!"

Unbeknownst to those in the study, the door had burst open and Harry, standing in the threshold, was watching the scene completely bewildered. "Hagrid!" he shouted, half scared, half excited.

"Harry!! Harry, me boy!!" the half-giant said, going for Harry instead of the insolent boy, closing his arms around his favorite creature.

"I'm glad you came!" said Harry from under Hagrid. "So... I see you've met Draco?" he asked, pulling back and looking at the blond boy, who had swiftly gone back to his seat behind the desk.

"Er... I've just met these three... Are they friends of yours?" questioned Hagrid, frowning.

"Well, actually... no. They," he said pointing Crabbe and Goyle, "are Draco's bodyguards. And Draco," he shyly waved an arm in the blond boy's direction, unsuccessfully trying not to blush, "is my boyfriend -"

"- and this thing," Draco cut in, unwillingly covering Harry's embarrassment, "was about to hit me when you came in! I'm shocked at his lack of manners!"

"Yeah, right!" Harry replied, recomposing himself automatically, "since when you are an authority on manners?! You learned them when eating those poor peasants?! Or by destroying the manor?!?!"

"Shut up!! It's your future we were discussing -!"

"And who do you think you are?! Discussing my future without my knowledge?!"

"We'd agreed we'd give this asshole a dowry!! Well, he doesn't want it!!"

"Don't you call him an asshole!! Did you explain yourself, by any chance?!?!"

"You had to send him a letter explaining everything!! Did you do it?!?! Did you!?!? Either you didn't, or this oaf is too thick to read -!!"

"Ha! Look who's calling the cauldron black!!!"

"I'm not particularly infamous for being thick, I must remind you!"

"I'm glad you admit it and now we know who the stud is -"

"SHUT UP, YOU FUCKING WANKER!!!"

"Ohh!! Was that a lesson on manners??!"

"Harry..."

"Ungrateful bastard! I see Snape was right! Some things, like class for instance, can't be forged at will!!"

"What do you mean by that?!!"

"Harry...!!"

"I mean a pureblood is a pureblood and a mule, a mule!!"

"TAKE THAT BACK BEFORE I HIT YOUR FUCKING FACE!!"

"HARRY!!"

"HIT ME!! HIT ME IF YOU DARE!!"

Hagrid came just in time to stand between both boys who, heated and furious, struggled madly with his trunk-like arms in order to reach each other's throats. "Get a grip, both of yeh!! Get a grip!!"

Once Harry had moved away, arms crossed, and Draco had smoothed his clothes and finger-combed his hair, Hagrid dared to apologize, "I don't wanna make yeh fight, boys...I'm sorry..."

"Don't be sorry! It's not your fault! It's this moron's -!"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING A MORON??"

"Harry! Yer shouldn' speak like tha' ter yer... ter yer... boyfriend 'ere...!"

"Well said! The half-a-brain and I are on the same side it seems -!!"

Harry didn't go for his wand. That would have been too harsh. Instead, he grabbed an uncorked ink bottle from the desk and threw Draco its contents. Draco never expected that. His pale face, partially sprinkled with black, froze in shock at what Harry had done. He didn't know yet how touchy Harry could get when someone bullied on Hagrid. Crabbe and Goyle tensed and growled, like waiting for a command that never escaped their master's lips.

"Look, boys... why don' we siddown and talk as grownups?" Hagrid said, as if talking to a very excited Fluffy. He timidly motioned a couple of chairs closer to the desk.

But the boys didn't move; they were still exchanging glares, Draco cleaning himself mechanically, Harry starting to regret having entered the room. Eventually, he walked grudgingly to the chair next to Hagrid, who sat carefully in the other, but Draco didn't move. He was furious; his narrowed eyes were very bright and his pale cheeks slightly pink. He stared fixedly at Harry, who was plainly ignoring his boyfriend by matching his furious gaze with the unfriendly eyes of a gloomy wizard depicted in a tapestry on the wall, which bore a legend that read something like 'Salazar Slytherin.'

Hagrid didn't want to screw things up even more, so he took his time to edit an innocuous pick-up line. However, he was deprived of the chance to speak; for the sulky silence was disrupted by a gentleman who announced, as smoothly as a zephyr, that lunch had been served. And before any other thing could be said, or even thought, Draco left the room, the rim of his black velvet robes whipping Harry's legs as he went out. Both devoted bodyguards darted out after their master like two hypnotized baboons, and once alone, Harry spoke to his former guardian.

"I'm sorry about all that, Hagrid. That wasn't my idea of a proper welcome," the boy said bitterly.

"'Tis alright, boy, 'tis alright," Hagrid patted Harry's head softly. "So... I see yer getting married..." he said, his eyes flickering like birthday candles in the light of the unexpected fulfillment of an old wish. "Me boy... getting married -!!" Hagrid paused at the breaking of his voice.

"Now, now, Hagrid..." Harry stuttered. "I'm not going to marry... I'm just... just... going to stay here... to live here with... you see, I can't go marry..."

"Bu 'tis as if yer goin' ter be married!! Yeh've found a mate!! I'm so happy I could -"

"No! No, Hagrid, please! Please, don't - I mean, it's not a big deal, either..."

"Me boy's found his soul mate! I always wanted ter live ter see that!"

Harry preferred to stay silent and let Hagrid enjoy it all. He smiled back to the big man and hid convincingly the sour sensation left by his row with Draco. To change a subject that didn't suit him at the moment, he invited his friend to join him at lunch. But while turning left and right, once and again on their way to the dinning room, Hagrid retracted his face's smiling muscles into a frown and asked rather confused, "But Harry, now that I come ter think of it... since when do yeh like them boys?"

Harry was not expecting such a question. "Er..." he began nervously, "it's not that I like boys... it's just... that I like Draco, I mean... I'm kind of... I kind of..." Harry sighed. "I know it's hard to understand, but when you meet someone, and... and you don't like them at first, in fact, you hate them at first, and after some time you kind of... get used to that person and start missing... some things when you've lost them...and what's worse, when you're deeply affected by their actions, whether good or bad, and realize that behind aggression there's nothing but hurt feelings, and behind those, jealousy, and behind that, admiration and so on... well, that's it..."

"Oh," said Hagrid, unable to pronounce a judgment.

Harry laughed, and went on. "What I mean is that I doubt any other person could be capable of dragging such strong emotions from me other than him, whether pure anger or... or bliss. I love him in the same way I love Quidditch... it's kind of... inevitable."

Harry knew he hadn't been explicit enough but what the hell, he couldn't even explain that to himself. Fortunately, they were already in the dinning room and had to shut up. But, at the sight of the one at the farthest extreme of the table, Harry had to admit that even more painful than discussing his fogged feelings with Hagrid was having to sit in front of their incarnation, who, though sporting a professional poker face, was displaying point-blank the spades of his hand through his eyes.

***

Bundling in his new ferret fur cloak, a present from Draco, Harry stood up from the icy stone bench in which he had been sitting and started to go back to the manor. The chilly air of that winterish night was so penetrating that it had shaken metaphorical hands with the numb apathy he had been housing since morning. Therefore, to put an end to both disturbing feeling and freezing day, Harry made up his mind and decided to face once and for all that tonight he was going to bed alone.

The row that had started in the study had continued during lunch, evolving into a spectacular shouting match whose most dramatic turns dealt with topics such as Hagrid's intellectual abilities, Ron's lack of respect, Hermione's dubious origin, Snape's hateful attitude, the house-elves' violated rights and even the excess of snakes in the manor. It had only ended when Harry, after having dodged a silver flying saucer by restoring to a complicated anti-bludger technique, had left the dinning room to take shelter in the kitchen. And when servants and friends couldn't do much more to raise his spirits, he had gone to look for Draco, to make up with him.

But, in spite of having covered every inch of the manor, Harry hadn't been able to find his boyfriend. He had called Draco at the top of his voice. He had gone to the dungeons. Then he had gone to the stables, and while scratching Beaky's neck absentmindedly, he had drunk half a bottle of firewhisky. Finally, he had decided to sit in the garden to let his anger subside a bit, and once that had happened, he went straight to their bedroom, the one with the extra-large bed.

And in that massive bed, Draco was lying completely awake and hiding something under the bedclothes just when Harry irrupted in the room. The moment Harry saw him, the question that had been playing in his mind all day (where the fuck have you been?) vanished completely to give way to a new one, which formed in his lips and thoughts at unison.

"What's that?" Harry spat.

"What? Nothing!" Draco retorted, surprised.

"I saw you! You're hiding something -!"

"I'm not!"

Even though Harry had been housemate with the dragon for two months and soul mate with his human version for just two days, he had been greatly familiarized with both his remarkable skills for being cynical and the little effect those actually had. Unhelpfully driven to some nasty recollection of old Quidditch quarrels and the recent row, Harry lost all desire of making up and, blinded by rage, jumped violently onto Draco with the purpose of depriving him of the object he was hiding between blankets.

The boys fought bravely, biting, kicking, and scratching each other, one pair of hands focused on detecting what the other pair was desperately trying to conceal. Whether because one was being backed by his titanic curiosity or the other actually wanted the secret to be disclosed, the wrestling match resulted in Harry jumping off the bed, holding a small painting that depicted the scowling face of an unknown - and very much handsome - dark-haired young man. Harry's heart pumped a jet of bile.

"Who's this?" he fired.

"..."

"I'm asking you... Who's this!!"

"No one." Draco crossed his arms and glared ahead.

Harry bit his lips and, breathing hard, insisted. "Who - the fucking - hell - IS THIS??!!"

Draco's dilated pupils swept leftwards. "It's none of your business."

Harry went for the fireplace. "If he's no one, then, I'll be burning nobody's portrait... and no harm will be done -"

"NO!"

Harry halted.

"Don't do that!! It's... it's just my old uncle -"

"-YOUR OLD UNCLE??!!"

"Yeah, asshole! He's my uncle! And he's dead, for your information!!"

Harry shot Draco a disbelieving glance, along with an acid smirk. "And how did he die?? Did he have the misfortune of coming across a certain moronic dragon, by any chance??!"

Draco erected his middle finger in Harry's direction. Harry ploughed on.

"Why were you hiding his portrait, then??!"

"Never you mind." Draco slid under the bedclothes and turned his back to Harry.

"Did you think I was going to be jealous?"

"..."

"Aw, come on," Harry laughed, "Did you honestly think I could be jealous of...?? Come on, Dray... I knew you were silly, but I never expected you to be that naïve -"

"He was my first love, and he's done things to me that you'll never be able to do to anyone! Not even in your wildest dreams!!"

Harry froze. Draco enjoyed the sudden outburst of silence.

"You're lying." Harry said finally. "You told me I was the first. And I know I was!! It's kind of obvious, you know?! It's damn obvious that the closest you'd been to shagging someone was when you tried to tame that stupid squid thing!! You didn't even know how to -!!"

"SHUT UP!! Look who's talking!! It wasn't me who thought unicorn's juice was a life prolonging elixir!!"

"It said so in some stupid book, you idiot!! And talking about prolonging things...wouldn't it be a great solution for your problem, Dray?!"

"My problem??! My problem??!" Draco snorted. "Ha, you'd wish to be that fast in the pitch -!!"

"Shut up," Harry retorted distractedly. He was now looking at the portrait, by the dancing light of the fireplace. He frowned when he noticed that the boy, who didn't seem much older than Draco and him, was amazingly good-looking. He had dark eyes, straight black hair, and his masculine features emanated both sex-appeal and arrogance at the same time. Harry briefly wondered, a little bit perturbed, if he had been completely honest when he had told Hagrid that he didn't like boys at all.

Draco noticed, and said, "You would have liked him. I never met him, but they say he was really cool..."

"You only like him because he looks like me," smirked Harry, his eyes never leaving the painting.

"Ha ha ha! He was far hotter than you, you stupid showoff, and also much taller..."

Harry cast Draco a narrowed glance. "And how do you know he was taller than me if you never met him?"

Draco didn't spare a chance to leer at leisure. "Well, he was... in my dreams."

Harry couldn't muster a nastier glare.

"People used to call him 'Black dog,' I never knew why -" the blond went on as if no burning pair of eyes was intending to scorch him. "- but that must be the reason we were always doing it doggy-style..."

Furious, Harry walked up to the window, opened it, and threw the portrait away. It disappeared behind the dark curtains, which fluttered for a moment, and then no more. "Do you want doggy-style?" he hissed menacingly, before jumping on Draco. "I'll give you doggy-style..."

"You have no style, not even to perform a dog," Draco replied mischievously, his eyes of cloud color coyly lit by a little lightning.

"I can play a snake if that's what you prefer... I have great slithering skills, I've been told..."

"Who -?" Draco could barely say before being silenced for a long while by an extremely aroused Harry, who, like no other and surely better than anybody else, could easily ignore his past, leave all sanity aside, and even compromise his own existence in the name of his much beloved prince of darkness. Draco reckoned that, given that he was capable of slaying with bare hands half the world (especially the Muggle kind) on behalf of his other half, even if he wasn't a dragon anymore, the least he deserved for that degree of devotion was eternal and absolute commitment on Harry's part.

Outside the room, in the corridor, the portraits got to the conclusion that the customary row was finally over, and started to snuggle inside their golden frames.

And in that way, the night became the perfect setting for the Slytherin Prince and his Prince Consort to retell one more time that ancient story, which has been so artfully told by so many storytellers, and written by quills as blunt as the truth, and experienced only by those who dare to share their lives of ink and parchment with those who actually believe in tales. Tales like this one, that was supposed to be, and hopefully ended up being, as magical as love and as old as time.

The End

Cast (in order of appearance)

Scroll down to get the appropriate effect

Draco Malfoy ........................................................ The Beast

Voldemort ............................................................ The Enchantress

Harry Potter .......................................................... Belle

Mme. Rosmerta ......................................................The Baker

Hermione Granger ...................................................Herself

Gilderoy Lockhart ....................................................Gaston

Wormtail ............................................................... Lefou

Rubeus Hagrid ....................................................... Maurice

Buckbeak ............................................................ Phillipe

The Centaurs ......................................................... The Wolves

Severus Snape ....................................................... Cogsworth

Remus Lupin ........................................................ Lumiere

Molly Weasley ...................................................... Mrs Potts

Ron Weasley ......................................................... Chip, the cup

Dobby ................................................................. A wastebasket

Pansy Parkinson ..................................................... A Hen

Argus Filch .......................................................... A Mop

Fred Weasley ........................................................ The 'F' cup

George Weasley .................................................... The 'G'cup

Cornelius Fudge ..................................................... Himself

Igor Karkaroff ........................................................ Himself

Zacharias Smith ..................................................... Himself

Nymphadora Tonks ................................................. A Featherduster

Mrs. Norris ........................................................... A Brush

Dolores Umbridge ...................................................Herself

Cho Chang ............................................................A Rice bowl

Luna Lovegood .......................................................A Telescope

Vincent Crabbe ...................................................... A Wardrobe

Gregory Goyle ....................................................... A Trunk

Oliver Wood ..........................................................The Doorkeeper

Sirius Black ...........................................................A Memory