Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling and nor do I claim to be.
A/N—I have made slight modifications to the story, and have reposted it as such.
All For You
How can one who just completed his lifelong—fucking—destiny feel absolutely nothing. A depressed Harry mused. I lost everything that was once important. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, The rest of the Weasleys, Remus, Tonks, Luna, Neville, Dumbledore... everybody... all gone because of one crazed megalomaniac that best responds to the name Voldemort—though mind you, Harry recalled calling him Tom always left one with satisfactionary results—especially if one was suicidal. Now no longer so reminiscent, but angered at earlier mentioned megalomaniac he became pissed.
Fuck, I even lost my god—damned sneakers to a fucking werewolf—the son of a bitch. Stupid git even had the gall to growl out "It tastes like chicken" as he was munching on my leg. Even asked for some salt and pepper. But he got what was coming to him. After all; who knew how amusing an overpowered reductio curse could be he thought smugly, smiling fondly at the memory. He then proceeded to giggle softly until he could suppress the emotions that were threatening to crack by using his newly found occulemency skills. Well he did... or at least he did now; know how amusing such a simple spell really could be and the pleasures that followed in its wake, that is.
Finally managing to stifle his laughter he took a quick glance at his nearby surroundings. It was carnage, everywhere. The whole of Hogwarts grounds was covered with corpses. Blood, bits of brightly coloured flesh splattered in disarray. Hogwarts herself was no longer standing, the backlash of magic that occurred when Voldemort was executed by "The Saviour" destroyed what was left standing and truthfully, even that wasn't much as The Final Battle had already worn the once majestic castle down upon its knees. However the backlash was the one that had finished the job off.
Poor Tom had destroyed his only true home, if the pensive memories were anything to be trusted by. All so he couldn't become usurped or something in his quest for immortality. He was just a crazy psychopath who destroyed everything in his way, but was Harry himself really any different he pondered. Everyone he cared about; they all became just causality to the war, just like everyone else did. Even the Death Eaters perished.
It had taken place just a few hours ago, yet for Harry it could have been years ago with how slowly time passed. He thought back to the battle. The light side was toiling their arses off; fighting for the freedom of their children and the peace that they all desperately wished to have. A peace that seemed more like a long ago memory than anything reality could ever produce. As strong as the light side was, they were no match for the dark side, and they knew it. Slowly, but surely the dark side was gaining control, dominating their opponents. Soon everyone but Harry and one other stood alone for the light side.
Harry was limping due to the large gashes that raked his leg from the previously mentioned fight with the werewolf. His companion wasn't fairing much better, with various slashes crisscrossing her dirty childlike face. Her personality had lost its spark months ago. She seemed to be fighting on autopilot. Harry himself was now intensely pitted into a fight to the death with the man he was prophesized to kill, or become murdered by. His companion was fighting the last two remaining Death Eaters. She worked efficiently, her small agile body dodging the lightning quick spells shot at her and narrowly missing her. Harry found himself copying her tactics; after all it wouldn't drain him magically that way. He was exchanging spells with the madman at a breathtaking velocity when a bloodcurdling scream caused the hairs to on his arms to stand up. It was his last companion. The last person on this planet that Harry would sacrifice himself for to save. And she just fell to the ground, blood squirting everywhere from a wound to her neck.
He distantly heard a deafening scream, but his brain didn't even register it as one of his own. A red tint was rapidly starting to cloud his vision.
"You Bitch!" Harry yelled consumed by an uncontainable rage that was welling up inside of him, fighting to be released. Images flashed inside his mind of the ones who died. Voldemorts smug smirk did nothing to quell his anger and grief. His emotions were boiling over, he felt like he was going to explode it he didn't find a release NOW. He let it take over.
"AVADA KEDAVRA" he bellows loudly. He took no pleasure in watching the fearful look in the madman's eyes as the spell zoomed towards him. Or when the light was forever snuffed from his demonic eyes and Voldemorts life existence ceased to exist. He even paid no attention to the two twitching bodies decked out with the infamous Death Eater robes that fell to the ground screaming bloody murder, twitching violently on the floor screaming their throats raw. Then they too ceased to exist, but none of this mattered, or was even noticed; including the enormous magical backlash caused by the death of so many magical creatures.
Harry suddenly found himself at the fallen witches' side. A large pool of blood was seeping into the ground being eagerly drunk. He painfully observed his last companion and wept, tears streaming down his face, mixing the blood and dirt into an unpleasant mixture. A raspy voice breaks into his grief quietly, sounding pained and questioning "Harry?"
"Luna." Harry responds softly. Tears still slowly making their journey down his face. "How do you feel?"
"Like shit." She gurgles eloquently, blood dribbling out of her mouth. Harry giggles slightly. Luna then shuddered, coughing, giving up even more of her blood. "Harry, I—I need—tell—you. I lo-love you. " She struggles to say.
"Its ok Luna, hang in there girl, I love you too." Tears now streaming down his dirtied face.
"No—I mean I—love—you. Only one—see me—as me." She looks at him desperately, willing him to understand. And when he looks into those expressive bluish gray eyes now filled with pain and longing, he does. Luna, staring intently manages a weak "Tobblerdonks—say something good—is going—to happen"
"Luna, I love you too, and of course things are goona be all right, just hang in there." He responds, voice cracking with emotion. He quickly placed his callused hands against the large gash muttering healing charm after charm. "I know things aren't great, but we need to stick together, I don't know what I would do without you!" Suddenly the light is gone, replaced by a glossy look in the young witches' eyes. Harry looks at her desperately.
"NOOO" he cries out loud a fierce grief encompassing his whole being. "LUNNAAA" He screeches, rocking her corpse back and forth, as if that action alone could bring her back to him. He looks to the sky, looks to the battlefield, then back to Luna. Harry breaks down crying uncontrollably. "Why did you have to leave me?"
Harry pulls himself out of those dangerous memories. It would do no good to dwell upon that which cannot be changed he thought, staring absently at his bloodied bare foot while avoiding looking at his fallen comrade. Merlin, if only I could go home. Oh wait—now bitter—I don't even have a goddamned home. Oh just great.
"Why me, why THE HELL WAS IT ME" A brief pause. "And not that chosen one bullshit" this time more calmly. "Why can't I just live in a world where she didn't die and none of this crap even happened." Thinking strongly of a time when he was more innocent, when everyone was alive.
Suddenly a strong feeling envelops around him, projecting a swirling kaleidoscope of feelings—sorrow, comfort, happiness and longing—among others as an annoying buss steadily increasing in sound that fills his senses. "Is that all you truly want my child" the magic hums. "To live in a world where this has yet to happen, is only a possibility—if only you allow it to become one"
"Who the hell are you to ask that" he spat. "Why must even the gods torture me so?" The magic surrounding him lets loose a feeling of amusement.
"Shhh my child, I am no god and I'm certainly not torturing you. Calm down, just relax now. It's alright. Now answer my question, is that all you would like?" the magic asks soothingly.
"Of course, how dimwitted can you get" Once more the magic is amused, not letting the jab irritate her. "I am the magic of all those who died, I've no purpose, but to serve those who need me—and you need my assistance." The magic elaborates, starting to turn slightly maternal. "I`ll make things better."
Suddenly the wind starts to whip around him, the air becoming hard to breath. Lightning streaks down towards the earth in a horrifying display of electricity, massive bolts blinding him; energised by the rampant magic. Soon agonizing pain rakes his body from the outside, slowly creeping inside of him. The pain becomes excruciating, hundreds times worse than a crucio could ever hope to be. The pain finally reaches his core, expanding it, the pain only increasing, accompanied by sudden twitching. Harry had long ago started screaming his lungs out, for all that was left of the world to hear. The feeling of expansion only increases, if it didn`t stop soon, his pain filled mind thought, he would explode. The pain takes over and he falls unconscious. A lightning bolt zooms towards Harry and just as it makes contact with him he disappears with a crack. A crack that was perfectly synchronized with the deafening BOOM that sounded out.
Slowly gaining consciousness, Harry examined himself as well as he could without opening his eyes. He felt like shit; there was no other word that could sum it up just as nicely as that could he thought. His entire being was encompassed in a constant throbbing, his body sore. His breathing was also slightly hitched. And not to mention his massive headache that could drive anyone weaker than he insane with madness. He felt like he'd been fucking tazered. However, he attributed his half ass dealings with said pain to the brutal training he acquired after Dumbledore's untimely demise.
Stupid bastard, leaving me alone without assistance. Well, I suppose I did have some assistance. Moody made sure of that, no doubt. He was a quite the sadist when given the opportunity to "beat some sense into my thick brain dead mind."Moody never had been one to coddle people, especially a person who he had taken under his wing (just after Dumbledores demise) , promising him vital skills to defeat Voldemort by using the dark arts to do so. He also never had been one to care greatly about what was legal or not so long as he and his protégé lived and breathed "Constant Vigilance" Having mostly accomplished the feat, Moody would have been immensely proud of him, not that he would ever outwardly show so. But he was dead so he needn't bother...not that he could. Harry laughed manically at his thoughts, and then proceeded to mentally curse Voldemort with his wide vocabulary of colourful language at the intense pain it caused. Anyways, it was nothing he should concern himself with at this particular moment. Much more important things should be on his mind—like finding out where the fuck he was.
Removing himself from his thoughts Harry cautiously cracked his eyes open. For a moment, he thought he was blindfolded, until his eyesight became accustomed to the night sky. All around him was a massive menacing forest. The undergrowth was thick and bushy. Sharp pointy rocks jutted out of the forest floor sporadically. Slowly easing his aching body into a sitting position and looking around once more, he was relieved to find that he knew exactly where he was. Having been here numerous times, both willingly, and unwillingly he could identify this as the Forbidden Forest.
"Oh Bloody Hell" he muttered. Regardless of the fact he nearly knew the forest as well as the Hogwarts castle; he still didn't want to be out in the middle of the godforsaken place while he was injured. Especially in his human form. "So" the little voice inside of his head seemed to say "why not just transform" Harry cursed his own stupidity. With his alternate form he could run amok in the forest as much as he so desired without exceeding an intolerable amount of annoyance. No-one alive even knew that he had the ability to do so. It was always a well kept secret. Need to know basis and all that crap.
Harry smirked. He should have thought of this the second he started to gain consciousness. The Gods knew he loves the liberty that accompanies each transformation. Frowning his brow in concentration, he begins focusing on his "inner animal". The feel of the wind rushing against his serpentine body. The wonderful pastime of basking in the sun, his dark black and green scales absorbing the heat, lulling him into sleep. The aggression that follows after being tested one time too many. With a small pop, Harry the human disappeared immediately, replaced by a tiny lithe beast, still curled in a ball, purring contentedly.
Upon transforming, he immediately began to feel much better, his new forms magic healing his physical injuries. However with his already depleted energy, this took a lot out of him, slowly sending him into a forced nap. He wearily glanced at his surroundings once more and eyes detecting no threat—agreed with his brain that a nap might just be a good thing. Although the beast was stubborn by nature, even he felt compelled to rest.
Lumbering his way across the undergrowth, he strolled his way along towards the base of a particularly frightening tree, eerily reminding him of the whompimg willow. Harry slowly began his ascent, dangerously sharp raven black claws griping the bark tightly; digging in. Finally he came across a wide branch in the plant, and clumsily crawled into the nook provided by the tree, right up against the trunk. Snorting happily through his nostrils, emitting smoke, he quickly succumbed to sleep.
Upon waking, Harry felt better than he had in many months. His small form was bursting with energy, his lithe body free of all injuries. With a playful snarl, he leaped into the air as if he'd been burnt, happy he was up and eager to tackle the day. His uniquely coloured emerald eyes, alight with the joys of being alive, taking in his surroundings. Above him his sharp eyes caught the remaining light that managed to pass though the filtering tops of the forest, creating a dark haze. Below his tree, he could make out the distinctive forms of the thestrals, skin tightly pressed against their bodies, all bony, looking sickly. The herd was joyously munching upon the dead body of a cow. Ripping into the flesh they were devouring the carcase.
Harry, pleased to have some relatively harmless company for once, took a quick leap, gliding down his descent of the tree using his upper appendages to keep from plummeting to the ground. Doing so allowed him to avoid suffering a horrible demise. The wind was rushing across his scales, buffeting across his serpentine head. The ground was nearing. He masterfully altered his course so as to land upon one of the beasts.
Reaching his target, he avoided extending his claws into the animal's back, knowing the thestrals were much friendlier that way. The black scaly hide easily camouflaged his own. If he were in his Human form, he would have given a smirk that would have rivalled even Malfoy's. As it were, he snorted in satisfaction. The thestral he was riding upon then proceeded to turn its great head towards him, giving him its mutated whinny to show it was pleased.
Slowly attempting to prance, Harry made his way up to the larger beast. He cautiously dipped his head low, eyes sparkling, meaning no harm, despite what his form was. The thestral gave a short bob of his head in response. The smaller beast dashed up the neck of the larger beast, nipping the tip of the scaly ear.
"What is your name young one? Never have I seen your presence before" the threstral mentally spoke to him.
"You may call me Adair." Harry replied in the same manner. "And you, my noble steed?"
"Enock is what my mother called me" the animal responded, mockingly glaring at him. Harry had the sneaking suspicion that the Threstral was aware that Adair was not his birth name. Threstrals tended to be smart that way, knowing the truth, just as they knew many things that others would ever suspect them of.
"So what's it to you?" he snarled, getting defensive. Raising his minuscule body proudly, instinctively trying to make himself appear larger.
"Nothing of it" Enock replied pleasantly. "Just don't attempt to fool me, I'm sharper than you might believe" he continued, smiling benevolently. "It's fine by me if you wish to be known as Adair, I've no problem calling you such a name befitting of you. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm feeling a bit famished here—"
At here Adair snorted in amusement, smoke once more billowing out of his scaly black covered nostrils. "You're looking it too"
The threstral then appeared to be intensely inspecting his body, moving his head, side to side, stretching his bony neck flexibly, examining himself closely. "Yes, I suppose I do, don't I. I'm looking much too bony for my tastes. I'll have to remedy that." It was all said in humour, Enock knowing perfectly well of how he looked.
"Well then best be going. See you around sometime. Hopefully by then you'll have a bit of meat on your bones." The only response that Adair received was a nodding of the head; the Threstral had already turned back around towards the dead carcase. The slight beast lightly jumped into the air, taking flight.
Beating his powerful wings lightly, Adair sped thru the forest, expertly dodging the undergrowth, swerving out of reach from the numerous trees. He paid little attention to his direction, caring only about the exhilaration of the flight, adrenaline coursing through his body. Everything passed by clearly with his vision; he quickened his speed, pushing his limits. Things became blurred, his speed was so fast. Abruptly he came to the edge of the forest; Hogwarts in all her majestic beautify swam before his very eyes. Hagrid, the groundkeeper was outside tending to the diminutive sized herd of Hippogriff's, his enormous pumpkin patch already flourishing. Adair's last thoughts were "What the fuck is this magic" before crash smashing into a bright orange pumpkin. A loud "Splushh" sounded as the plant exploded from the impact, causing Adair to black out, resting inside the remains of the ruined pumpkin.
Having been up since the crack of dawn, Hagrid, the groundskeeper of Hogwarts was a busy man. He had been tending to the enormous pumpkin patch that he cheerfully grew each year for the Halloween feast. Occasionally, when he thought nobody was looking, he'd shoot a quick growing spell over the cluster of plants, and then settled down shortly to spy on the Garden Gnomes which were attempting to trapeze across their paradise. Little cretins got pretty good at it too.
The small potato like creatures would stand one atop the other, gradually gaining height until finally they could reach part of the vines, right next to the stem. The top bugger would then pull himself up, lying vertically across the green vines. Reaching down with his scrawny little arms he would grab one of his comrade's hands. Using a feat of strength that most would doubt, he would then proceed to drag his buddies up until they too lay across the vine. Having accomplished that, the dumpy cretins shaking with uncontrollable glee made death defying leaps of faith, immediately grasping the nearest handle. Another jump, another handle, little lightning fast leaps, their high pitched voices filled with happiness.
Occasionally they would pair up, one grasping another's legs. The one supporting the weight would suddenly flick his lower body forward, propelling the other one forward at a startling velocity. Sometimes they would perform yet more, doing little spins midair as they flew across the patch. Hagrid set the hippogryphs upon them. They all scattered, squealing profanities, squat bodies ducking for cover. Attempting to conceal their bodies in self preservation from the rampaging beasts out to eat their flesh for a juicy snack. Most of the poor buggers didn't stand a chance. However, the ones that survived would regroup at a later date, and proceed to risk their lives for a little more adrenaline, continuing the life—threatening routines.
As much as he enjoyed watching the Gnomes, he had to do what was best for the pumpkins. He couldn't take any risks, they might lay waste to the pumpkins, even if only unintentionally. Even if he always felt bad afterwards.
Bringing his sausage sized fingers to his mouth; he let out a sharp whistle, piecing the air, cutting through the screams of terror, the tearing of flesh. Almost instantly the equine creatures looked up. Eyes blazing a fierce independence, an unconquerable soul could be seen gazing out as they seemingly pieced his very being. Deeming him acceptable, the multicoloured herd pranced their way towards him, bellies more satisfied then it was mere minutes ago. Hagrid directed them towards an enormous sized—highly overgrown pasture. One that lead directly into the forbidden forest. A few snapping's of their beaks and they painstakingly lumbered their way over towards the ancient wooden gate.
A single hippogryph with coal coloured pigmentation let loose a deafening cry, wings outspread, suddenly charging towards the gate. The others continued at their painstaking pace, despite their alphas enthusiasm. Hagrid with his unwavering patience when it came to all creatures' labelled "dark" didn't mind their pace one bit. He, after all had all day to complete his duties of Groundskeeper.
Soon enough, the creatures were inside the pen, wandering around, pouncing upon small rodents, using their beaks to toss them up into the air to devour them. Hagrid reached down into his oversized pockets to grasp the corpse of a ferret. He then proceed to toss said corpse towards a heavily pregnant mare who eagerly snatched it out of the air very much like the way a professional seeker would a snitch.
Suddenly a loud SPLUSHH sounded. He looked around frantically for the source of the disturbance. His eyes soon rested upon the remains of the pumpkins. "Damned Gnomes" he thought furiously. "Tis why the Gyphs' are set upon ya, ya crazy cretins. Destroy my pumpkins; I'll kill ya damned fools. Oh Dumbledore won't be pleased now."
He quickly made his way towards the almost unflawed patch of pumpkins, marred only by the explosion of one. His oversized feet shook the very ground with each stride as he closed in the distance towards the disturbance. Slowing down, so that he could carefully navigate his way across, placement of feet laboriously thought out so as not to step upon any of the bright orange plants he soon reached his destination.
Doing a quick glance around at his current surroundings, the half—giant noticed the sticky mess his feet stood in. The pulpy insides were all strewn about the immediate vicinity. The impact the Gnome must have produced would have been immense. Some of the pumpkin's internal filling could even be found plastered upon its nearby neighbours.
Out of the corner in his eye, in his peripheral vision there lay a crumpled serpentine form, cradled in the outer husk of the exploded plant. Hagrid turned towards it. All anger suddenly dissipated from his body, in its place joy taking its stead once he recognized the creature for what it was. The lithe critter appeared to be deceased at first. He leaned in closer to study the wild thing better. Nothing seemed to be moving. But oh, wait, there it was. A slight raising and falling of the chest. He released a great sigh. One he didn't even know he'd been holding in. It was alive! He was so pleased he could have done a happy dance, however; due to the fact he could step on something he may regret later, he refrained from doing so.
Kneeling down cautiously upon the soil, right up against the "cradle" he slowly extended his enormous hands. Placing them down on either side of the unconscious scaled snake like animal, he carefully scooped it out, and into his cupped hands. He stood up quickly, but was paying extra attention to make sure he did not jostle the injured animal too much. The wings were still folded neatly against the sides of itself, brushing against Hagrid's skin occasionally.
If anyone was around to see, they would have been an audience to him grinning like a lunatic, gazing down at the petite creature with admiration and great longing, his wide smile plastered on as if he would never stop being this happy. He was stuck inside his little fantasies. And he was quite content to stay there. He slowly made the way back toward his old cabin, all the while staring down into his hands. Finally he reached his steps, almost tripping over them; he was so absorbed in other things, before almost ramming into the door. He proceeded to open said door. Fang, his gigantic sized boarhound was baying at him, happy to be let outside, deviated away from his owner to take a much needed piss. Hagrid continued right into the cabin. He didn't even bother to remove his footwear.
He slowly set the powerful beast down on the wooden table that, in another universe served as a cracking of the egg table to Norbert, the Norwegian Ridgeback. He used his left foot to hook around the leg of the chair directly behind him, pulling it up close enough to sit upon. He sat down and then with a high pitched squeak of the chair against the wooden floor, brought it even closer to the table. Satisfied, he placed his large arms on the table, bent at the elbow, used to prop his head up, head resting in his palms. Ankles were crossed; he stared at the miniscule form with his warm, but beady eyes.
Many hours passed this way, with no change in either beings position. Hagrid lost track of the time a long time ago. His dark coloured eyes were still open, blinking sporadically, but not even really seeing anymore. He continued his self appointed vigil many hours though out the night, but soon, sleep overcame even his prodigious will. Just as he was falling asleep, his mind running rampant with fantasies involving fire breathing dragons, and possessing one of these magical beasts as a pet and companion a certain animagus decided to grace the world with his consciousness.
Erg, my aching head. What in the bloody hell happened. Thoughts racing as his mind raced to comprehend. Did that short blonde human feed me a bit too much of the hot liquid again? He mused. Damn it, she knows I can't tolerate that shit in this form. I'll never be able to fly straight anytime soon now. With a start, the animagus known as Adair realized how wrong all those thoughts were, and the animal in him roared with rage at the thought of its carelessness. He jumped upwards, immediately standing on his feet, fangs bared, potent venom filling inside of them, daring anything or anyone to cross him. His emerald eyes soon enough grew accustomed to the dim light and expertly scanned the room for threats.
The miniscule dragon, having recognized his surroundings, lowered his defences. This allowed his stiff wings to take a few experimental flaps in order to lessen the tension residing within. His fangs were no longer bared and his whole posture relaxed. Yet just as when he had sighted Hogwarts, he couldn't believe what he saw.
Everything seemed so real, the scent, the layout, the bright coals illuminating the cabin, teapots hung upon the wall—everything was as it should be. Expect for one tiny detail. It shouldn't even be standing; it was all brought to the ground and obliterated but a few days ago. Not even magic could repair all that damage, that soon and asides from that, there was the fact that Hagrid among countless others were dead. And yet, the castle was still there, her magic humming merrily, Hagrid's cabin was still present and then there was Hagrid himself. He was sleeping right now; before the dragons very eyes, the man's' tangled brown locks and bushy beard, enormous frame seated in an equally enormous chair. His arms were folded on the table, head resting upon them. Drool could be sighted running down his chin.
The animagus' slightly crazed brain failed to understand what was going on. He felt himself cautiously advancing upon the half—giant, wanting to study the situation more thoroughly. He slowed down upon meeting his destination. Edging closer he took in a deep sniff. It certainly smelled of Hagrid. All of his instincts were pointing to the fact that this was real, yet the small human part of him inside insisted otherwise. He snorted in confusion; nostrils releasing a bright flame. Said flame lit Hagrid's' beard on fire in an oddly reminiscent way. Oh shit.
Adair quickly scrambled backwards, shamed of what occurred due to him but unable to face changing back to deal with the situation. After all it would be very painful that way. To do so would mean dealing with the heart wrenching emotions that as Adair were nigh impossible to comprehend, but ones that Harry could.
Flames began to snake their way upwards. Hagrid jolted awake, screaming like a banshee. "Thank Merlin," the dragon thought, very pleased with the fact that he would not have to transform, but quite displeased with the fact his ears were now ringing even worse than they were just seconds ago.
Quite out of character Hagrid was tending to his needs as opposed to watching the critter before him. He was rapidly patting at his beard, attempting to extinguish the flames. After a bit of effort he succeeded, smiling happily as he refocused his attention upon Adair. The large man then spoke out loud. "Wake now, lets jest get yer somethin to eat. Must be might hungry there."
Adair was at loss of the situation. He still had no idea what was going on around him, which as he knew from training with mad eye, was a very bad thing indeed. Senses were still on high alert, but the animal in him knew he was hungry, and wanted the food once it was mentioned.
After all, he had not eaten a meal in the last couple days. The last time he had was in his human form, just before the battle. And he didn't even have the chance to prey upon anything when he was in the forest just the other day as he had only awoken and was out enjoying life on the high of flying. If he had been allowed to continue his flight he would have found something, but as it happened he had never gotten the chance.
THUD. The sound of something dropping before him brought his out of his musing. Just in front of his nose lay a mouse. He sniffed at it cautiously, glancing at the large man warily. None of his senses could detect any ill intent and the scent of the mouse was causing his stomach to grumble in protest. He pounced upon the dead rodent in a manner that was very much like a cats. Teeth tore at the flesh, ripping apart the carcase. He devoured it all, a low grumbling coming from his throat. The large man's face was filled with great happiness. The dragon paid little attention, except to make sure he posed no immediate threat.
After having eaten, his body was getting tired, wanting to rest a little. Now even thou he was still recovering from all the shit that he had made his body undergo Adair knew something was not right. He was starting to feel wobbly on his feet and his mind seemed as thou in a fog. He tried to flap his wings a bit, as if wanting to take off but found them feeling heavy and cumbersome as though in concrete. He settled down lying on his side, legs too tired to support him as they should.
He had been given a sedative. The animal in him was very displeased, growling lowly to show his displeasure; even thou his body could not act upon it. This had happened to him before; he should have recognized what was occurring. It really was stupid of him to not have detected the medicine. And now he could pay the price for it. Odd though, he mused, that none of his senses had forewarned him of the large mans intentions.
All the while Adair was slowly going though these thoughts, Hagrid had gently scooped him up, deciding to take him to Headmaster Dumbledore. He wanted to keep the miniature dragon, sure that this one, being much smaller would be allowed as well as easier to hide ( from those that would disallow it ) then the one he had hatched many years ago.
Quickly he made his way across the school grounds, apologizing as he went to the animal in his hands. "Sorry bout that, can't have ya stressing yourself to much though" Entering the old castle, he headed down the halls to the gargoyle that kept watch for Albus. He pondered for a moment before remembering the password for the summer. "Lemon Drop" He gargoyle nodded his consent as the door opened its way to the staircase. Stepping on he waited as it went up, before knocking on the door. As he did he heard a "Come on in, Hagrid."
"Great surprise to see you here today Hagrid, I was not expecting you too visit so soon" the old man, his blue eyes twinkling greeted. "For what is the purpose of your trip up here?" he smiled, "Surely not just for a cup of tea?" In reply, Hagrid looked down if at his hands, still cradling the sedated creature. "I was just wonderin' if I could keep 'im. Found 'im down in the pumpkin pasture last evenin', hurt. He won't do anybody harm, he's just tiny and I promise I'll keep 'im well hidden, and- and nobody will ever find him." He stated quickly, pleading.
Albus looked down at the creature in his employees hands, smiling pleasantly. "Well if you are sure it will not cause any harm and that it can be well hid—what's this?—Hagrid my boy, bring that closer will you" Albus' smile turned to a frown. "Place him on my desk," he commanded as he got up from behind said desk and stood a short distance away "and why is it so calm?" Slightly alarmed.
"Its okay, Headmaster, he's only sedated so that he won't get stressed out to much" was Hagrid's quick reply. He was slightly confused as to why Albus was making such a big deal out of it but did as he was told regardless, placing his hopefully soon to be pet on the desk.
The headmaster pondered some more before sending a binding spell at Adair, making him unable to move. Hagrid frowned, unhappy that the animal was bound when it was already sedated, not understanding what was going on. Adair was panicking; he was in an even worse predicament than he was in before. Before he could at least try to escape if something happened; now he had no choice whatsoever. He had no idea how much worse the situation could get.
Dumbledore focused more intently on the beast before him, wondering why it had such an odd aura surrounding him. He had only encountered this a few times before and that was when the Mauraders and McGona—oh Merlins beard! The realization of what he was seeing hit him, and he quickly fired another spell at him, this time not a binding one, but an animagus reversal spell.
Adair's last thoughts before the spell hit him, eloquent as they were, was "Oh shit."