Draco honestly didn't think a day could get any worse.
It had started before he had woken up: in his dream. He had been laughing maniacally as his arch-nemesis had sunk ever deeper into the crocodile-infested swamp (as you do) when, suddenly, to the boy's great surprise, Potter had vanished from the slime and reappeared next to Draco muttering awful curses involving his mother and half a pair of rusty tweezers and threatening to write to the Divination teacher to request extra lessons. (He had woken up sweating.)
Then he had gone down to breakfast (realised he had forgotten his tie, gone back up again, put on his tie, beaten up a first year who had dared to ask him why he was wearing a red tie, gone back, changed his tie, beaten up the offending first year's little friend who had dared to ask him why he had beaten up his friend about a tie, beaten up Blaise for asking why he had to get so worked up about a stupid tie – it was just a tie for heaven's sakes, glared at Pansy Parkinson for daring to ask why Blaise was on the floor groaning and gone back down to breakfast) to discover that his toast had gone cold and the first years had nicked all the jam.
Potions had been boring, Divination had been awful, he had been shouted at in Transfiguration no less than three times in front of Potter and now he was locked in a cupboard.
He wasn't sure how exactly Granger had managed to lock him in a cupboard, but it had involved a house-elf, a jar of spiders and a rather unsuspecting lump of butter. And, now that he was locked in a cupboard with the gleaming-eyed members of the Potter-Posse, he knew it wasn't something he was going to boasting about any time soon.
"Dragon thou art,
"Dragon shall stay."
And now Granger seemed to be putting a curse on him...
"Rendered flightless,
"Sent away,"
Yep, definitely a curse; probably looked up in the restricted section, knowing Mudblood.
"Cursed to dwell in living hell,
"In thy lair shall lay..."
He was banking on the spell being a dud: it sounded nasty.
"Ancient circle,
"Take him in,
"Strip him of his blackest sin,
"Use him as a weapon thus,
"No more will he bother us..."
A strange curdled shade of yellow seemed to be pulsating round the edges of the room. Potter and Weasley were looking pleased ('Oh you've got to be kidding me...' thought Draco, paling noticeably) but Granger looked worried, her eyes contracting frantically in the whitening light as it trickled steadily out of the want to form a sphere in the middle of the room.
"Ryu-san wa y-yamen-nasai..." She was stuttering now and shaking. "Pein k-kaiketsu s-sinasai!"
And, at 'sinasai', the sphere exploded, sucking in the frightened occupants (all except Granger whom the parchment had seemingly formed a sort of barrier around) and hurling them into the blackness of another dimension.
(A/N) The end bit of the curse means something like 'Dragon, stop' and 'Pein take in'. Please send corrections if I've got it all wrong, but forgive me: it's rather difficult to write poetry in a different language!
That goes for other errors as well, including plot errors.