Harry's POV:
One last plea on the morning of my last day fell on deaf ears, as Draco Malfoy turned me down again. I packed up my tent and my supplies preparing to leave, when there was a sudden blast outside in the valley. I unsheathed my wand, donned my invisibility cloak, and went to investigate.
At first I thought it was just an irate dragon; there were plenty of them in this valley, always angry and roaring about something. She was one of the largest Hebridean Black females I'd ever seen; at least thirty feet. I could see the anger in her violently purple eyes, as she roared and scorched the scarred Earth with flame. Rock fell from the side of the mountain when she whipped around her arrow-shaped spike at the end of her tail. Then she jerked her head in my direction and sniffed. The problem with invisibility cloaks is that they don't prevent dragons from smelling you. The dragon whirled about and I had just enough time before running for my life to see that she had a rider; one of the Hrypa gang, no doubt.
I ran back into the opening of the cave, not bothering with my cloak when it caught on a branch and got stuck. I left it where it fell and hid my body as much behind the rock as I could. I curled my body inward, to protect my limbs. I had just enough time to cast a fire shield before the dragon and her rider were on me again. The blue and green of the flickering flames was pretty and was doubled by the reflection off her shiny black scales. The dragon yahoos would be jealous if they could see me now; death by dragon flame was the noblest and most sacred way to die, according to their religion. Not many people got to experience death by dragon and fewer lived to tell the tale, as I planned on doing.
I held my shield against the intense blast of heat and fire as long as I could. The air in between us was visible with smoke; it rose and circulated, as the intense heat was distributed by air currents. The heat and soot burned my eyes, while the light blinded me, causing me to blink and squint, even from behind my shield. At first my shield began to flicker, letting bursts of flame through before solidifying again. The flames scorched my clothes, burnt my hair, and singed my flesh. The burns were so painful that I didn't know how much longer I could keep going. If I survived this, the title saint would probably be added by the dragon yahoos to my list of unwanted honorifics.
And then there was a bright burst of flame coursing passed my shield. My skin registered the heat and the pain right before I passed out.
It was pitch black when I woke up. I was on my bed, inside my tent, and a house elf was hovering over me. I was in pain, but not excruciatingly so, which was surprising given the dragon's fire. I was contemplating the state of my body, trying to ascertain just how badly I was hurt, when it occurred to me that I was supposed to leave today. My portkey left at noon, when my watch now proclaimed it to be night. I'd missed my ticket home.
"Oh shite!" I exclaimed, jumping up from the bed and hoping the manky old watering can would still work and knowing that it wouldn't. It wasn't that type of portkey. It couldn't be, given that I was in a war zone and it was possible for the portkey to be intercepted by the enemy.
"Mister Harry Potter must lie down. Lifton is tending to Harry Potter's wounds, sir," the house elf said, pushing me back into the bed.
"But I've missed my portkey." I was still reaching out for my knapsack, which was on the table nearby, right where I always left it. That in itself was strange, because I'd packed up this tent, including the table this morning and stored them inside that same knapsack. The elf must've unpacked for me and set my tent back up.
"Master Draco Malfoy, sir, says that Harry Potter has already missed his portkey. Lifton is to be fixing Mister Harry Potter, so that he can go away, sir."
"How am I to go away without a portkey?"
"With a broom, sir."
"Can I talk to your master? What are you doing to me anyway?" I asked, noticing that the elf was once again wiping my tender skin with his damp cloth. I watched as he dipped the cloth into a bucket of metallic lavender colored liquid and repeated the process. Then he rubbed the wet cloth on my skin, creating a tingling sensation that soothed away the pain. Right before my eyes that spot of burnt skin went from angry red to tender pink.
"Master says it is a cure for dragon burns. Master saved your life, sir."
"How?" I asked. Risking his life to save mine didn't sound at all like the Draco Malfoy I knew.
"He activated the anti-dragon ward. You were already burned and unconscious, but my very great and wonderful Master saved you from the worst of it. Master saved you from the human too, by sealing the entrance of the cave, sir."
"Where is your master now? How long did he stay with me?" I asked, not waiting for an answer, before asking another. "Did he give you this potion?"
"Master is inside the cave. Master never left the cave. And yes, Master gave Lifton the potion and said to keep applying it until the burns completely heal, sir."
"Wait, let me get this straight: your master, Draco Malfoy, saved me by sealing up the entrance to the cave and activating a ward, all without leaving the protection of his hide-e-hole?" I asked incredulously. This was much more like the Draco I knew. Just add in a Daily Prophet article with an exclusive interview with the blond hero and it would all fit.
"Yes sir,"
I decided to let the elf finish treating my burns. As soon as he was done, I retrieved the old watering can and verified that there was nothing I could do to turn it back into a functioning portkey. Then I sent my Patronus off to my boss, to tell him what happened. I didn't have an owl with me, but I did have a Protean charmed parchment that I normally used for communication. I could have used my parchment now, but I didn't feel like digging it out of my knapsack.
Lastly, I sent another Patronus to my roommates, Ron and Hermione. The three of us were now living together in Grimmauld Place and they would be concerned that I'd not returned on time. It was the perfect arrangement, with my two best friends set up on the second floor and myself on the third. The first floor was common area. They kept discussing plans to buy their own place now that they were married and both made decent money. It was inevitable that they'd have kids and want a larger house. I hoped that didn't mean I would be left alone, but I'd deal with it when the time came.
I dreamt of Ron and Hermione that night. We were all still crammed into Grimmauld Place, only there were more of us. They had two kids, while I had three. When I woke, I could still hear the clear sound of the laughter of my young daughter ringing in my ears. She had my mother's features, down to the green eyes and red hair, as I'd seen them in a picture of her as a young girl. If only that dream could become my reality…sure it might be possible if I married a nice witch and settled down, but after the disaster that was my relationship with Ginny, I'd stuck to casual dates with wizards.
It was late morning before Draco bothered to contact me and interrupted my self-introspection. "I trust my elf has healed you sufficiently, Potter."
"Yes, thanks for saving me."
He didn't acknowledge my thanks, other than with a curt nod. "When will you be able to fly out of here?"
"I don't know. I don't even know what happened to my broom. And I have to know what's going on outside before I can set off." The entrance to the cave was sealed shut, as if a sheet of rock had always fitted so perfectly into the opening. That was a good thing, for now, because I had no doubt that the terrorists were still trying to get in.
"Your broom was burnt badly. I am having Lifton repair it. I was hoping you had another."
"No, sorry. The emergency plan was to hold up in a cave until the portkey activated. Or if I missed the portkey, to escape on my broom."
"That was rather narrow sighted of you Potter; you didn't even bring a boat. I suppose I will have to endure your presence on my doorstep until Lifton fixes your broom. Although I must warn you, there is a chance that broom in unsalvageable. You may have to hike out of here on foot and build a boat."
"What about you? Don't you have a broom or a boat I could borrow? How'd you plan on getting out of here?"
"No to the broom and the last person to borrow my boat never returned it. I apparated in and I plan on staying until I can apparate out again. It's your Ministry which has imposed the restriction and you were the one sticking your nose into my business, even after I said you weren't wanted, so don't go blaming me for this."
"I wasn't going to. But, um, since I'm staying, will you let me in now?" I asked hoping for the best, but knowing the answer wasn't going to be what I wanted it to be.
"No."
"Malfoy, I don't understand why you won't let me in. You saved my life yesterday, but you won't let me into your cave? I'm trapped out here until your elf fixes my broom; you might as well let me in to wait."
"The answer remains no. You must never enter my residence, even if you think my life depends on it. My life depends on isolation."
"Why? What's going on in there? Are you sick?"
Instead of answering, Draco replied, "It's none of your business. Just stay away or I will sue."
"Can we at least talk?"
"What do you think we're doing now?"
"I meant again, like this. It's going to be rather lonely if I'm stuck on your porch. How long have you been alone in there? You must be lonely by now."
"Fine, I will endeavor to speak with you once a day, if I remember. You have enough food to last you, I trust."
"I do; enough for another month."
"Let's hope Lifton repairs your broom by then. If not, you'll be going hungry, because I don't have extra rations."
"I'll start stretching it then." I hoped it didn't come to that. Then I'd remembered something he'd said before. "Wait, didn't you say you have enough provisions to last you for years?" I asked.
"I do, but only to last me for years."
"Well why don't you share, and I promise to replace any provisions I use as soon as I can?"
"I don't have that type of provisions; mine are renewable and limited. I have a small indoor garden, which my elves tend, along with chickens and one milk goat. I don't have enough for you."
It was rude of him to refuse to share, but then this was Malfoy I was dealing with and rudeness didn't come as a shock anymore. It was the years of thankless Auror work that did it and the myriad of far worse behaved civilians. There was one particular old pureblood woman who I always remembered at times like these. She'd spat on me and called me a bloody wanker when I returned her kneazles from where it'd gotten itself stuck down a well. In comparison to her, Malfoy was the epitome of grace.
"Alright, I'll go on raids and steal from the terrorists' stores if it comes to that," I said.
"Oh, and Potter?"
"Yes?"
"The entrance to the cave is securely sealed. It will remain sealed until the presence of dangerous dragons and humans are no longer detected in my valley. Please do not tamper with it."
"Alright. Could you let me know if and when you open it back up?" I will need to explore, to determine current enemy locations and plan my trip home. And if I was forced to stay past a month, I will need food.
"Yes. Good day Potter," Draco said, before once more flickering out.
I returned then to the book I was reading. It was a good thing this tent came with a well-stocked library, because I just might need it.
Author's Note: I just got back from a talk by Richard Dawkins; it was the first time in real life I'd heard someone say the phrase, "Bugger off." Among other things, he has a cool English accent :)
So obviously something had to happen to keep Harry there with Draco or this story would've came to an end today. Next chapter Harry will get his first clue as to what is going on.
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