(Author's notes: -leans over to you- Hey. How you doin'?

To dearest megan, no, don't be shy, honey, I love reading your rants. And no, I don't suppose I'll be ending the story halfway, I came this far, I'm gonna finish whatever snitch I start. I sense you're very uncomfortable with how you handle your works so my advice: don't follow anyone steps, not even mine. Just take note on the works you read, and pave your own path. Don't worry if anyone flames you, they can go fornicate themselves with Ron's broken wand or better yet tell me and I'll hunt them down…Whoever messes with my readers for any kind of issue will be facing me. And actually, yes I already have a next story in the works, though it does not involve half of the Big Four, namely Hic and Jack. But Merida and Rapunzel will be-nah, gotta finish this one first!

To Ardoa88 (is that right?) yeah, thanks for your fervent reviews. I was reading them while I scanned my professor's criticism on a work. Needless to say, if you didn't send those cheerful reviews, I would have passed on into another bout of depression and start thinking of quitting writing again. I'm very thankful to you for that! Every reader who wants to see this fic to the end should thank you, as well.

This is gonna be hard, I don't have the HP books to get by anymore. Now I lean solely upon my years' worth of knowledge of the Potterverse.

Well, news for good or bad, this story is gonna stretch a bit longer than I anticipated. Enjoy!)

"…Merida," Hiccup rolled his eyes, tossing up a hand, "How many time have I told you to polish your broom after every flight? The wood splinters, you know…"

"…eh, that's wha' I have yeh 'fur!" she rolled her eyes.

"…I'm not always gonna be here, you know,"

"DUNBROCH!"

Merida looked up just in time to hold up her arms, the Quaffle hitting the leather gauntlets hard. She swiveled aside, the ball shooting through the hoop she was supposed to defend.

"What gives!?" Rose tossed up her hands as she hovered in the air yards away, her scarlet uniform rippling in the wind.

"I'm so'orry!" Merida grimaced, bracing her feet against the metal support mounted at the tail end of the Firebolt.

"Got it!"

Lily zoomed overhead, the red Quaffle tucked under her arm, headed for the posts at the other end of the field.

"Rose! Get back to position!" Al yelled at her, pointing to the rest of the team swooping for the other half-pitch.

"The game's tomorrow!" Rose told her sharply as she headed off, "Focus, Merida!"

"Aye…" she let out a sigh, her breath frosting the air.

The Gryffindor team had been busy practicing. Day or night, rain or shine, to win was their goal. That kept Merida preoccupied enough. She took in a lungful of cold air and patted her cheek gruffly.

"Fer the 'ouse," she reminded herself.

For the House…

Meanwhile, Rapunzel sat in the stands, wearing a knitted scarf over her school robes. Her neck strained from looking up at the practice run for hours. Pascal sat atop her pile of book dumped in her cauldron beside her. Life had gone on since Hiccup left. It had been nearly a week.

The holidays rolled on and school resumed.

Still, they saw the dragon-keepers about. There must be still some business about the grounds, or so most of the students speculated amongst themselves. She and Merida knew better, though. There was no dragon in the woods. Not anymore.

Merida had plunged herself in paving way for the Quidditch Cup. Rapunzel buried herself in books and studies, though there still wasn't much work to go about. So she spent most of her time tailing Merida, bringing lunch and snack for her from the Great Hall.

Odd, Merida never forgot to sneak away an apple or two.

But sometimes she skipped meals altogether, simply because she forgot.

Rapunzel took it to herself to keep the Scot from falling off her broom.

Although, Rapunzel still found herself being shook awake at midnight, Merida urging her to go with her down in the kitchens to get a pumpkin pasty.

"One of these days she'll get bloated…" Rapunzel told Pascal, who simply nodded.

The stands were mottled with snow, which had begun to recede.

Spring was on its way and winter edged back, leaving muddy trails in its wake and cold hanging in the air. It still had its bite and didn't seem to be willing to let go.

A resonating thump in the air made them both look up to find Merida and her flurry of red hair streaking along the three hoops she was assigned to defend, tossing the Quaffle to an awaiting Chaser.

"Finally warmed up," smiled Rapunzel, turning back to the open book across her lap.

"That looks like a good read."

The voice made her snap up to see the speaker.

"Ah," she said curtly, narrowing her eyes on him as his shadows was cast over her.

"At this rate, Gryffindor's gonna win by a landslide," Jack smirked, glancing up at the team zooming all across the blue sky, scarlet streaks in the morning light.

He shifted and leaned on his staff, standing on an upper row of seats, snowy hair illuminated, his blue hood poking out from under his robes. Rapunzel chose to ignore him and turned back to her textbook. There would be a Herbology quiz soon and Professor Longbottom precisely instructed to study—

"Still not talking to me, huh?"

Gritting her teeth, Rapunzel focused on the lines printed on the marbled pages.

"I guess I deserved that…" Jack shrugged, keeping his eyes on the game.

Merida didn't look the same way she did when playing.

She usually looked flustered and excited, like the skies were all hers to soar in. Now she seemed…to intent on winning to actually enjoy herself.

"What did the teachers say?" Jack asked quietly, dropping down on the seat beside her.

Rapunzel edged away as if a spider had just settled nearby.

"He left a letter," she mumbled.

"A letter?" Jack turned to her, raising an eyebrow.

Rapunzel glanced at him curtly, face blank of any expression.

"He was prepared."

Jack nodded slowly, holding on to his staff. He guessed as much. Hiccup always was prepared…

Smart kid. He had outrun them every step of the way. Very few get the Order and the Ministry itself on such a headache and get away with it.

"So that's it, they just accepted it?" asked Jack.

"Some sort of excuse…" Rapunzel muttered, clearly not wanting to talk to him but decided to be civil, "It was signed by his Dad. Dunno if it was real…but the teachers bought it."

"It won't last though."

"What?" Rapunzel scoffed, snapping her book close to look up at him.

Jack shrugged innocently, "He could be gone for months for them to think something fishy's going on…and once the dragon-keepers find out there's no dragon in the woods anymore, well—it would be too much of a coincidence for him to have left at the same time, right?

Rapunzel bit her lip irritatedly at the sense he made.

Still…

She got up and grabbed her cauldron full of books, stomping away.

Jack watched her leave, resting his cheek on his hand as he pulled his hood up.

"…really sorry, Pretzel." he whispered.

Things have gone awry.

If only he had gotten there sooner.

There was no use moping about it, though. Taking out the phial from his pocket, Jack stared at the swirling silvery potion inside the glass. Well, the school was safe. Toothless was gone and so were the shadows. And from what little information the two girls have told him—the shadows were chasing the dragon.

The curse had left the castle.

Does that mean he was to leave?

Perhaps.

Jack closed his eyes, letting slip a pensive breath, causing no mist in the air, reminding him again of his cold existence.

"…you're not one of them…" Pitch's voice echoed in his mind.

"How many times do I have to go through this?" he said almost bitterly, glancing up at the moon fading behind the blue cloak of the sky as the day passed on.

Yes, there would be no more reason for him to stay.

Jack jumped up to his feet and gave one last glance at Merida hovering hundreds of feet up in the air, watchful as an eagle, scanning the players for the Quaffle.

"…bye, princess."

Merida wiped her damp face with a towel as she followed behind the Weasleys and the Potters, dragging her broom along as they maneuvered around the wooden corridors under the stands to the dressing room. Light seeped between the planks, setting the place alight.

"Albus Severus! You do one stunt like that and you're gonna miss the Snitch!" Rose slapped him playfully on the arm, though her face was in all seriousness, framed by stray locks of licorice hair.

"Aw, come on, don't be a black cloud, Rose!" Al laughed, "Loosen up a bit…"

"You're getting more paranoid than Aunt Hermione!" Lily sniggered behind them.

"Am not!" she scoffed, "And it's called 'being prepared'!"

"Hey, Merida, are you okay?"

Hugo had come up and patted her on the shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm…" she smiled sheepishly, "I'm just tired, is all…"

Hugo raised a skeptical brow, looking at her.

"Ah'm arigh'!" she reassured, punching him in the shoulder.

"Okay…" he smiled, chuckling as he slung his broom over his shoulder, "Though I sense you need a bit of cheering up—tell you what—how about a butterbeer later?"

"Yeah, sure," Merida nodded, her hair plopping about as she did.

"Great!" Hugo beamed, running ahead, "I'll see you later!"

"Sure!" she waved away as they disappeared down a turn in the passage.

"…hello."

Merida whirled around, looking for the person. The one she found there was the last she had expected.

"Gryffindor booked the pitch fer today," she said sharply as she faced him.

Malfoy stood by the side of the corridor, leaning on the wall of planks casually. His nearly snowy head of silvery hair was illuminated by the slivers of sun through the walls.

"Not here for practice," he said dryly, looking to her with a green apple in hand. Sure enough, he was wearing the usual school robes, the red accents replaced by Slytherin's green, a prefect's lapel glinted on his chest, right below the Slytherin house badge.

Merida watched him warily, "Wha' do yeh want?"

"I just…" he began, running a hand through his blonde hair. Merida raised a brow, looking at him up and down. The Slytherin prefect wasn't her most favorite person in the school.

"…wanted to know if you were alright."

"Why wouldn' ah be?" she said, gripping the broom at her side.

"I heard about Hiccup," Scorpius replied curtly.

"An'?" she said indifferently.

"Well, he left school with your N.E.W.T. exams nearing," he shrugged, "Being top of his year, that would be quite a surprise, even with whatever excuse he'd sent in."

"Get ter the point, I'm a bit hungry," Merida groaned. She has had enough about people talking of Hiccup's sudden departure. Nearly everyone who knew him made a fuss about it as if he had just died. She recalled Rapunzel sneaking into the boys' dormitory, shoving Hiccup's clothes into a sack and hiding it away to make it seem like he left in a hurry.

Scorpius tossed over the apple in his hand to her and continued. Staggering back to catch the green fruit, Merida managed to grasp it and stood there, gaping at him in disbelief.

"Gimme a heads up next time…!" she muttered.

"Hiccup had been…acting strange right before he left," Scorpius continued, "I know you care about him. I'm just telling you—if he doesn't get the exams, he'll be kicked out of Hogwarts."

Merida pursed her lips. Was Malfoy watching them? Did he notice anything strange…?

What did he know?

"Noht' mah business," she mumbled.

"He's your friend," Scorpius pointed out in a cool voice, "Don't you care, at all?"

Merida gaped in disbelief at where he was steering the conversation.

"I recall you crying over him at the Ball," Scorpius smirked.

"O'course I care!" Merida replied defensively, the end twigs of her broom thudding against the wooden floor, "And I did NOT cry over him! But it's not rae'lly my decision if he wanted ter leave, is it?"

"Oh?" Scorpius smiled, gray eyes gleaming, "Is that why your Quidditch play had been worsening?"

Merida crossed her arms with a huff, "Now, aren' yeh glad o' tha? Makes us easier to beat fer the next game, righ'?"

"On the contrary," Scorpius chuckled, "I want you to be on your best shape. It's no fun when your team easily falls."

"Oh, we won', yeh can trust on tha'," Merida retorted.

"Well then, see you on the field," he finished rather smugly and headed off, walking with a sure stride, "Looking forward to it, DunBroch."

"Guts..." Merida seethed, raising her hand to throw the apple at him when he suddenly turned around. Merida hid the fruit behind her back, splaying a wide grin on her face.

"And don't forget," he said curtly, glancing back to her, "…you issued a challenge, as I recall."

Color drained from Merida's face when she remembered the fateful slip of the tongue weeks before. She had been talking about the Slytherin prefect behind his back…not realizing he was behind her back.

"I…I didn'," she gulped.

"Doesn't matter," he shrugged, disappearing down the corner.

Merida stood there, blinking. Well this was a sticky situation.

"Helpmahboab," she mumbled.

The Mandrakes (or Mandragora) had all been repotted and now lined a large table near the entrance of Greenhouse Three. The place was forbidden for students to enter unless a lesson calls for it. It holds many a dangerous magical flora as the Forbidden Forest festers with dangerous magical fauna. A Devil Snare plant squirmed in the far corner of the greenhouse, trying to curl itself up under a dark parasol, shying away from whatever dim sunlight broke through the clear ceiling.

Professor Longbottom checked the clay pots filled with fresh dirt, large purplish heart-shaped leaves poking out of it. He eyed the squirming tops suspiciously. If any of the students had buried the roots of the Mandragora too shallowly, then it would sure spell trouble (Mandrakes have roots the shape of gnarly human infants and cry aloud whenever uprooted, causing fainting to those who hear—and when mature enough, could actually kill). He shifted the thick pink mufflers about his neck; he was not fainting from Mandrakes again.

In his many years of teaching Herbology, he had not quite come to terms with the Mandrake plants. He would still occasionally pass out in the greenhouses because of them. One time Professor Tooth found him slumped on the compost bin. Needless to say, he took great care to plant them properly since then.

"There you go you little banshees…" he mumbled with a grin, shoveling a pile of dirt over one pot.

"Professor! Are you in here?"

He let out a small yelped and nearly dropped his hand shovel, quickly snapping to the entrance.

A young man stood there, smiling, hands in his pockets. His bright scarlet hair gleamed against the dull colors of the greenhouse, though his blue-black robes were as dark as everything else in the place.

"Well, nice to see you, Teddy!" Neville greeted as he walked in.

"G'morning, sir," Ted Lupin beamed, "Do you have any aloe in here?"

Neville raised an eyebrow, "You're in Greenhouse Three."

Teddy just shrugged, "So do you have any aloe?"

Neville just chuckled, turning back to his work, "Beside the dragon-snaps…"

"Oh, good," Ted said and walked off, the muffled clap of his booth resounding in the otherwise quiet atmosphere.

"Why, did the dragon burn you today or something?" Neville asked lightly, pouring another shovel-full of soil right on top of a squirming mandrake.

"Er…no," Teddy replied with a laugh, "I touched a poison ivy."

Neville snapped up, tilting his head in thought.

"That's unfortunate."

"Yeah, well, it's the least of our problems, professor…" the young man said, reappearing from behind a tool shelf, rubbing a crushed spike of aloe vera against the back of his hand.

"What do you mean?" Neville wondered, glancing to him.

"We still can't find the Night Fury."

At this, Neville stopped and moved away from the mandrake table.

"What do you mean? I thought Bunny had a good lead."

"Yes, well, Professor Bunnymund's information only went as far as the Dragon's Hollow." Teddy sighed, "So close. It decided to move to another location right before we could even cast some barrier charms…"

This was bad news, indeed. Neville did not want to see another burning tower in the castle again. Or the field. Though he recalled some pretty notable heroics during the crises. He still could remember clearly a brave first-year Slytherin girl (Cupcake, wasn't it?), dragging her much older schoolmates out of the burning East Wing.

"But you're still following it, right?" Professor Longbottom asked uncertainly.

"Of course we are," Teddy nodded, "Though we always end up with nothing but tracks and scales, a few burnt trees here and there…I think the dragon knows we're after it."

"Can dragons do that?" said Neville, "I don't know much about them, but we had a few here at school during a tournament once—they're dangerous, but not very bright."

"Apparently, Night Furies are," said young Lupin with a sigh, the look on his face a mixture of regret and reverence, "We don't know much about it—we've never seen one of it alive or dead before. They're quite clever…too clever…"

"Maybe it's an Animagus," Neville snorted, turning back to his work.

Teddy laughed, tossing the spike of aloe in the compost bin, "Yeah, maybe, professor, maybe…"

Suddenly the door to the greenhouse opened, making both of them turn in surprise.

Who Neville saw there was the last person he had ever expected.

"Well isn't this a glad sight?"

Another man stood there, wearing the dark leather coat of an Auror. He pulled his gloves of his hands, smiling. Jet-black unruly hair fell over his forehead (though at least it looked as if he tried to comb it), green eyes glinting behind round spectacles.

"Well, let the Fat Lady sing!" Professor Longbottom gasped, dropping the shovel and striding to the door, "If it isn't Harry Potter!"

"Good to see you, Neville!" he laughed, pulling the teacher into an embrace.

"Harry!" Ted rushed to him.

"Teddy! I heard you were here!" Harry beamed, hugging his godson in turn, "How have you been?"

"Quite good," Teddy replied with a sheepish grin, "How's Aunt Lily and Hermione? Is Uncle Ron with you?"

"They're doing well," Harry smiled, "And unfortunately, the Department won't trust Ron to come along."

"Oh, I remember…" Ted grimaced, "He went bursting into the commissioner's office and flipped a table…"

"Harry, what are you doing here?" Neville asked, a smile still plastered to his face, "Did Seamus ask you to have one of you "odd-talks" for Defense against the Dark Arts again?"

Harry let out a small laugh and shook his head, "No, no, I'm here on business."

"So the kids don't know you're here?" asked Ted.

"Not yet," Potter shrugged, "And I think they're better off not knowing. This concerns the…dilemma in the school."

"The dragon?" said Lupin, hair color slowly shifting a deep shade of vermillion, "I've told the Ministry the Romanians have it under control!"

"They're not doubting you, Teddy, don't worry," Harry reassured, clapping him on the back, "This is about another matter in that issue."

"What, then?" Neville crossed his arms, ready to listen.

"Luna looked into the matter after one of her sons was sent to St. Mungo's Hospital," Harry explained. Professor Longbottom nodded slowly, remembering the dark events that had happened alongside the dragon attacks.

Lysander Lovegood Scamander was found in the hallway, seemingly stabbed and bleeding to death. Luckily, Professor ManSnoozie was there to bring immediate help. At least the attackers—the shadows as people described it—were gone.

Now, the Night Fury was a different matter.

Luna most likely did not want to endanger her other child.

"She managed to track down the dragon," Harry continued, "…back to a small coastal village called Berk."

"Near the Dragon's Nest?" Ted gaped, a quizzical look on his face, "But they don't have records of the dragons there."

"Luna did," Harry cut in, "As you may recall, things people thought didn't exist always took her fancy—and for quite a time no one believed that a specie like the Night Fury is real."

"And what did she find out?"

Harry looked at both of them, scanning their faces, "…that the Night Fury had an owner."

"What?" Teddy's eyebrows furrowed, "That's impossible!"

"What do you it had an owner?" Neville pressed on.

Harry ran a hand through his jet-black hair, "Well, do you remember the time when we always poked our heads into trouble, Neville…?"

"You with Ron and Hermione, more like—but yeah, why?"

"Well one of your students seemed to have been playing with something a bit more sinister."