Harry Potter and the Wyvern's Crown

Chapter One: Anticipation

There was a fluttering at the window. Harry opened one eye, and grinned. He glanced at the old wind-up alarm clock Ron had given him for Christmas last year. Sure, it still had a habit of jumping into Harry's waste bin when it went off (it feared loud noises), but it managed to tell the time, despite the fact that Ron had repaired it in Muggle Studies. Harry's Uncle, of course, distrusted it, but after a few shouting matches, the clock knew that the waste bin was often where it would end up anyway. The fluttering came again, and Harry got up out of his bed. It was five minutes before midnight. Five minutes before he would turn 16. Opening the window, he ducked out of the way as several owls came in, Hedwig at the fore only moments before Pigwidgeon almost bowled her out of the air with a piercing hoot.

Harry tried to hush the over-excitable thing, while the other owls dropped their packages with horrible thumps onto his bed and found places to perch. Hedwig hooted miserably as Harry attempted to grab Pig, who was still buzzing about his room, immensely glad of being here, and screeching it loudly. 'Oh Lord, Pig, shut up!' He hissed at the bird. He had no end of fear about what his uncle might do, if he woke. 'Please!' He turned then to the waiting rented owls and offered them some water from Hedwig's tray. She fluffed her feathers miserably. Harry grinned and touched her head, 'Sorry, old girl. It's just been a bad day.'

*HOOT!*

Harry winced as Pigwidgeon landed on his head. He caught the tiny thing, and shook his head, 'You're going to be...'

'GOING TO BE WHAT!?'

Harry blanched, turning to look at the door. Luckily it was locked and it would take a few moments for his uncle to get inside. Uncle Vernon had always hated Harry, who and what he was. And while the threat that his godfather, Sirius Black, would turn the Dursleys into a couple of mudpuppies should Harry give him leave, was enough to allow Harry some certain freedoms, having half a parliament of owls visit his room late at night was still punishable. Especially when it was Harry's birthday, and the Dursleys were always careful to make that occasion as miserable as possible.

'Quick!' he whispered to the rented bunch, 'Out the window! I'm very sorry!' They took wing without comment.

'HARRY!'

'Coming, Uncle Vernon!' he called, waving at Hedwig to take her perch. He looked at the pile of gifts and threw his blanket over them. He was flushed as he opened the door, looking at his uncle, who stood there in nightcap and dressing robe, his eyes wild with rage. Harry stood before him, cowering so that Uncle Vernon could stand over him still. They were the same height now, and judging by pictures of his father, Harry still had a ways to grow. 'I'm sorry, Uncle Vernon. Hedwig...'

'Will be locked up for the remainder of the summer!'

'No!'

'No?' The veins on Uncle Vernon's head seemed to stand out. 'NO!? How dare you defy me!'

Harry's jaw trembled, then raised his right hand that still contained Pig, 'I need her...My Godfather...'

'Your 'godfather'? The one you've been threatening us with for...' His eyes seemed to widen, looking at Harry's hand, and he took a step backwards. Harry stood up straight, slightly confused.

'W-w-what is that?' He pointed at the small, feathered face.

Harry almost told him, then smiled, 'This is what Sirius did to my owl.'

'Th-th-that's?'

'Hedwig,' Harry opened his hand. Pigwidgeon stood up, proudly. 'See, I told him I was worried that you might try and lock me up again, so he enchanted her so she would be small enough to get out of her cage and between the bars on my window. He said the coloration would wear off after a few days. Of course, he will be expecting a response...'

Uncle Vernon's lips pressed together so hard they seemed to disappear into one thin line. The corner of his left eye twitched. 'Very well.' Then he reached forward and pushed the door open. Harry turned, and nearly sighed with relief when he saw that Hedwig had enough sense to hide herself so that his Uncle Vernon would believe his lie. His emerald-shaded eyes sparkled at his uncle. Vernon harrumphed, then made a face, as he looked down at the tiny ball of feathers that Harry still held, then back up at Harry's face. 'Keep it quiet,' he growled, 'Or I shall make a cage that even the tiniest of owls should not get out of!'

There was a metallic jingle and a snap, followed by a slow crackling of folding paper as Harry's clock dove off his side table into the waste bin. 'Yes, Uncle Vernon,' Harry couldn't hold back his grin, and tried not to laugh as the large man attempted to divine what had made that sound. With a grunt, Harry's uncle turned his back, and headed back down the stairs.

Harry closed his door and allowed himself a private sigh of relief. He took a moment to write a thank you to Ron (with a promise for a longer explanation to follow) and attach it to Pig's leg. The little owl went zooming out nearly clipping Hedwig again as she returned from her branch just outside Harry's window. She landed near her cage and hissed at Harry. He grinned at her and whispered an apology. She turned her back on him and he shook his head, 'Fussy. Would you rather be locked in a cage for a month?' Hedwig gave no response, evidently still insulted by having something as stupid as Pigwidgeon confused for her.

After a careful moment of silence, Harry waited until his uncle's snores returned to their normal volume, then investigated his presents. There were the usual compliment of cakes, cards, pastries and thoughtful notes (most of which he hid carefully about his room). Hermione had included clippings from the Daily Prophet that he might consider interesting, including ones about Quidditch at Wizarding schools around the world. Ron, too, had given him Quidditch news as well, including a magazine with stats about his favourite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons. He watched the Seeker on the cover holding up the golden snitch and waving to his fans for a few moments, then leafed through it for a moment. It also had news about the playoffs which unfortunately were being held in the US this year. Harry placed the magazine aside and read the cards, noting that Hermione and Ron were planning on picking him up with her parents this year, so to avoid the nonsense required for him to get out of the house during previous years. A soft trembling from his waste bin reminded him of his clock. He set it back up and gave it a gentle pat. He'd decided that it was best left here. With the excitement around Hogwarts, it was likely to have a nervous breakdown. And it was now two in the morning. He gave his clock another pat, and glanced up at Hedwig who was still rather ruffled looking, but offered him a glance before returning to her water dish.

* * *

Two days later, early on a drizzly morning, Hermione and Ron arrived in her parent's car. Harry paused, when he realized that Hermione was at the driver's seat, and her father was on the passenger's side. Ron jumped out immediately, grabbing Harry's arms, 'You've got to see this! She can actually drive! We haven't hit anything yet!'

Hermione poked her head out of the window, 'Oh hush, Ron. It is a wonder I can drive what with your crying out every few moments about how we're all going to die!'

Harry laughed, and allowed Ron to pull him into the car. He patted the pocket that contained his Gringott's key, and watched as Hermione, with a look of careful concentration on her face, backed out of Harry's driveway and started down the road.

Harry considered, 'How early did you two get up, then? Surrey's not exactly on the way to London, from either of your places!'

'Oh!' Ron said, 'That's simple. I came to visit Hermione, and she got the idea of driving us here, then to London. I suggested floo powder...'

'But I wouldn't have it, Harry,' Hermione grinned at him from the rear-view mirror, 'I figure you'd want to live past today.'

'Like your driving's really going to keep him that much more alive!' Ron whined.

Harry laughed, and leaned back, 'I'm not going to jinx it.'

Ron turned on Harry then, 'So...you and Cho plan anything yet?'

Harry couldn't help his blush, 'Not really. It's hard to get together. She lives in Bath now.'

'Isn't that the place with the magical healing springs?' Hermione asked.

'They've lost most of their magic,' Harry agreed. 'But her parents are looking towards getting them fixed.'

'Ahh, that's right,' Ron grinned, 'She was saying something about that.'

'It's a wonder you were listening, Ron, what with all that crying you were doing!'

'Its not my bloody fault Malfoy has such a bad aim with his hexes. And I was already upset about Errol...' His voice fell quiet.

The mood turned dark then, the windscreen wipers the only sound in the car as the rain picked up. Harry touched Ron's arm, 'He was great bird, Ron.'

'He was,' Ron smiled fondly.

* * *

Sometime later, they had found a suitable place to park and headed into Diagon Alley via the Leaky Cauldron. Harry looked at it with a nostalgic eye, recalling his brief stay from his third year at Hogwarts. He'd blown up his Aunt, had been on the run. Strange, he thought as he followed Hermione into the bookstore. It had all seemed to desperate. But he'd lived. He'd lived through so much...

'Harry!'

He looked up, a fresh smile on his face, 'Cho!'

The slight witch ran up to him, and they embraced joyfully. Ron made a gagging sound beside Harry. Hermione elbowed him. Cho released her boyfriend and took a few embarrassed steps back. 'Hello,' She called in her soft voice, 'It's very nice to see you again.'

'Oh, don't let them bother you,' He grinned at her, taking her hand in both of his.

'Oh, it's very nice to see you too, Cho. No hug for me?'

'Shut up, Ron.'

Cho blushed, but was unable to say anything as her parents approached, a severe-looking Asian man, not much taller than Harry, and an even tinier woman who could have been Cho, given twenty years or so. Cho stole her hand back to herself, and bowed her head. Harry glanced nervously at Cho, then held out his hand to the man, 'Hello sir, I'm Harry, Cho's boyfriend.'

The severe face of her father grew colder, 'I know that.'

There was an awkward silence, then Cho's father spoke something harsh in Chinese. Cho nodded still looking at the ground, 'I'll...see you later, Harry.'

'Err...sure. Leaky Cauldron for tea?'

'We will we leaving before then,' Cho's father muttered, then turned away from the Gryffindor trio. Cho afforded Harry a sad look before heading after her parents.

'Well that was queer!' Hermione muttered, 'You think they could have been a little more civil.'

'Probably not,' A familiar sneer called from behind them. Harry turned, his hands balling slowly into fists. Draco Malfoy continued, as he leaned against a shelf, 'I heard them talking earlier. Chang's not allowed to see you anymore, Potter. They think you're cursed,' Icy eyes flicked down Harry's baggy clothing, 'And I'd have to agree. You're a danger to yourself...and Hogwarts.'

'You shut up, Malfoy,' Ron snapped.

'Or what, Weasley? You'll hex me? Or didn't you get enough of that last year, you great, sodding, poof?'

Hermione and Harry had to tackle Ron to keep him from tearing up Malfoy. Harry knew it was best, but resented having to do so nonetheless. It would have been a great pleasure to have Ron knock some sense into Malfoy once and for all, but Ron's family couldn't afford the court case that was sure to follow. 'He not worth it, Ron,' He called to his best friend. 'He's not worth anything.'

'And you know it,' Hermione told Ron sharply, 'C'mon, let's go.'

'Malfoy, you are going to get yours! I swear it!'

Draco grinned, and sauntered off, 'I sincerely doubt that.'

'Damn him!' Ron shook Harry off at last, shaking his head, his cheeks flushed with rage, 'I hope Hagrid comes up with a creature that actually eats him this year.'

'You're not the only one.'

* * *