Smoking Wizards and Singed Beards
Harry Potter sauntered in the grounds of Hogwarts, his hands resting comfortably in his pockets, as the summer breeze drifted through his eternally messy hair. For once all was right with his world - yesterday Gryffindor had beaten Slytherin at Quidditch, and the memory of Snape's sourly glowering face still delighted Harry. Then that morning, a potions cauldron had accidentally exploded showering the potions master with lime green foul smelling gunk, and Harry had only barely contained his glee. Harry could almost have broken into song, if he had been at all musically inclined. Instead he contented himself with gazing around him, savouring the blue skies and bright sunlight, imagining that he was soaring on his broomstick among the clouds.
As he glanced casually around Harry noticed Dumbledore and Hagrid walking towards him, something about them caught Harry's attention, something a little odd. At first he couldn't make out what exactly it was, and simply continued to gaze curiously at them.
As they drew nearer, Harry stood and gawped in astonishment at them. Both men looked rather singed - faint wisps of smoke came from them, Dumbledore's purple robes were in tatters and seemed to be smouldering slightly, and his long white hair and beard had been replaced by short spikey tufts of black, with a distinctly burnt smell. Hagrid was in a similar state, and had several patches of what looked like ash on his nose and face.
"Ah, good afternoon Harry," Dumbledore said nonchalantly as though nothing at all were amiss, light bright eyes twinkling at Harry from beneath smouldering spikes of blackened hair.
"Sir ..." Harry stuttered, "Sir, you seem to be on fire ..."
"No need to worry Harry, I assure you that we extinguished ourselves eventually, we're just smouldering a little ... isn't that right Hagrid?" The sparkling blue eyes flitted in Hagrid's direction, and Harry couldn't help but notice how unusually agrieved the half giant seemed, as he stood sullenly next to Dumbledore.
"Everyone knows not to do that ..." Hagrid muttered sulkily, "Scaring the poor little thing like that ..."
"There... there Hagrid ... I expect he'll calm down eventually ..." Dumbledore soothed, as he patted Hagrid's shoulder, sending clouds of ash up into the sky as his hand rose and fell.
Harry blinked, and stared at them in bewilderment, he knew Dumbledore was a bit batty, but this ...
Noticing his bewilderment, Dumbledore chuckled, and said gently, "So Harry, I imagine you are wondering what happened?"
"Well... yes Sir..." Harry admitted.
"Quite right too Harry," Dumbledore murmured approvingly. "Curiosity is always a good thing in the young, and the not so young too, so long as one exercises a certain caution of course."
For some reason Hagrid glared at Dumbledore as he heard this, and grumbled unintelligibly under his breath. Clouds of ash encased Hagrid's head, as Dumbledore patted his shoulder again. From within the cloud came several coughs, followed by loud spluttering noises.
"Are you quite all right, my dear fellow?" Dumbledore enquired, as he patted Hagrid's back solicitiously, seemingly unaware that this was causing even larger clouds of ash to surround Hagrid.
"I ... uhm ...I think you might want to stop doing that Sir." Harry muttered uncertainly.
"I beg your pardon?" Dumbledore said absently, then grasping Harry's meaning, "Ah ... yes ... perhaps you are right, my dear boy." Dumbledore's hand ceased it's ministrations, and a few seconds later Hagrid's tousled head emerged from the ash cloud, damp with sweat, and covered in flecks of black soot.
"So doubtless you would like to hear how Hagrid and I got in this state then Harry?" Dumbledore asked lightly.
"Well yes, Sir," Harry answered.
Sapphire eyes twinkled humourously down at Harry, as Dumbledore's mouth curved into a familliar merry beam. And Harry couldn't help but think that only Dumbledore would be utterly unconcerned by his blackened hair and face, his torn robes, and the loss of his once resplendant beard.
"Well now Harry my boy, doubtless you know the school motto?" The Headmaster peered quizzically at him from beneath blackened eyebrows. "Draco dormiens nunquam titillandusm, isn't that correct?"
Harry gaped at Dumbledore in confusion, then nodded.
"And doubtless you know what it means?" Dumbledore continued happily.
Harry resisted a momentary urge to question Dumbledore's sanity. "Never tickle a sleeping dragon Sir," He answered.
An answer which seemed to delight Dumbledore immensely, "Quite correct Harry. Excellent, exceedingly excellent, my boy." Dumbledore patted Harry's shoulder approvingly, then murmured, "And Harry my boy, I don't recommend experimentation, even if the dragon is only a baby, and normally quite affectionate with humans."
"Hagrid! You didn't?!" Harry gasped.
"No I did not! I know better than to do something so downright foolhardy ... begging your pardon Professor Dumbledore Sir." Hagrid snapped.
"Now Hagrid, I did say I would buy you a new hut, a luxurious new hut, far far better than your old hut." Dumbledore said, as though this made everything all right.
"I liked my old hut..." Hagrid muttered, "Tickling a sleeping dragon just because it looked cute lying there with it's legs in the air ... even a first year knows not to do that!"
"I said I was sorry Hagrid my boy," Dumbledore answered gently, "And I'm sure young Norbert will calm down eventually. Now Harry, if you will excuse me, I believe I need a bath and a change of robes. Come Hagrid, a nice cup of hot chocolate and you'll feel far better."
Harry shook his head in disbelief, as he watched Dumbledore amble casually off, with Hagrid trailing sulkily behind, still muttering under his breath about - "Honestly, poor Norbert jumped out of his scales he did, tickling a dragon ... just experimenting ... any fool knows not to .."
Hagrid's grumbling faded into the distance, and as Harry glanced towards where Hagrid's hut used to stand, all he saw was a smoldering pile of blackened ash, and a small form whizzing round in circles in the skies above, yowling loudly, and shooting random puffs of fire from it's mouth.
"I don't think Norbert will be calming down any time soon..." Harry muttered, as he stuck his hands in his pockets and continued his walk.
Author's Notes
Written for Camp NaNoWriMo in july, it's only taken me this long to get around to editing it. ;) I hope the fonts display properly, my word processor is driving me insane.
And I hope it amuses, all feedback is welcome. ;)