Summary:
"So what exactly is your plan with this dragon?"
"My plan, such as it is, is to find out what's wrong with its wing and fix it. Or find someone who can fix it."
"That's going to be more difficult than you think."
"Well I didn't think it would be easy."
It's a little past midnight, the fire has almost completely died, and Felix Rosier sits rigidly on the leather sofa in the Slytherin common room. His transfiguration notes are open on his lap but his gaze is fixed on the stone wall opposite, eyes peeled for any small movement as he contemplates potential ways the notorious Slytherin curse-breaker might be planning to escape.
The Shrinking Charm? She did that once her first year, he's heard rumors. Or the Disillusionment Charm? It's far too advanced for her level, she's only a third year, but she could beat him in a duel at age twelve so he knows not to underestimate her. Or perhaps she has an invisibility cloak? Felix wouldn't put it past her. But unless she's found a secret entrance out of the dungeon (and he considers this a legitimate possibility) there is no way she'll be able to leave without him at least seeing the bricks of the wall part to let her pass.
Felix exhales loudly through his nose. The term has barely started and she's already back at her same bad habits, but this time, he's determined to put a stop to it. No more sneaking out, no more cursed vaults. Not this year. Felix steels himself for the impending confrontation, allowing his pent up anger and frustration to rise to the surface. And Merlin knows, he has enough of those emotions to spare at the moment.
Felix's seventh year at Hogwarts did not begin like the other six. That breathtaking mix of freedom and homecoming he usually feels at the start of each new school year has been poisoned by the knowledge that this one will be his last.
His summer was spent enduring lecture after lecture from his parents on his upcoming Family Responsibilities: a respectable career in a prestigious department of the Ministry of Magic ("Magical Law Enforcement would be best. Aurors are good people to have power and influence over, and it's a straight shot to minister," declares his father) and a suitable marriage to a pure-blood girl ("Don't you have any classes with the Nott's daughter? She should be in your year and she's ever so lovely," croons his mother). He's seventeen now, they say, a legal adult, and he really can't keep acting like a child anymore.
As always, Felix shields himself behind his schoolwork; his upcoming NEWTS have all his focus at the moment he tells them, and it's not untrue. Felix is determined to stay at the top of his class. The best at everything. All the more important since, in spite of his hours of studying, his perfect O.W.L scores, and his vigilance in keeping Slytherin in line to win the house cup for the last two years, he has somehow failed to make Head Boy.
His family on one side, his schoolwork on the other, Felix feels as though he's being slowly crushed between the two. And he has one year left to come to terms with the fact that there is no escape.
It's time for Juniper Windsong to come to terms with that, as well.
There's a noise from behind him; a shadow creeps around the couch. The dim light and her effort to keep her steps silent prevent her from noticing the back of Felix's head as Juniper makes her way toward the entrance wall. He clears his throat loudly, and she turns with a jump that would have made him laugh if he were in a lighter state of mind.
"Merlin's beard, you scared me!" she says in a strangled whisper. "What are you –"
"No."
"What?"
"Whatever you're doing, the answer is no."
Juniper lifts her hands in a placating gesture. "Look, it's not what you –"
"No!" Felix interrupts, his voice as loud as he can make it without shouting.
"Rosier!" storms Juniper, not bothering to keep her voice low. Her outstretched hands clench into frustrated fists, nails digging in to her palms.
"Windsong!" Felix practically shoves his notes from his lap and walks around the couch toward her, drawing in a breath to begin the speech he's been rehearsing for the last hour.
"This," he gestures with a hand to the entrance wall to indicate her attempted escape, " -is not happening this year. How you've managed to stay in school and learn anything the last two years is beyond me, when you're constantly sneaking about looking for trouble-"
"Looking for my brother!" Juniper interjects. Felix ignores her.
"-putting yourself and others in danger-"
"Oh for goodness sake, everyone was fine!"
He raises his voice over her protestations, " -and jeopardizing Slytherin's reputation and points!"
"I earned more points than anyone last year!"
Technically true, but Felix acts as though he has not heard her. "But this year is going to be different. You're going to stay put." He enunciates each word. "You are going to focus on your school work. You are not going looking for any more vaults- "
"This isn't about the vaults! I swear! " interrupts Juniper again, a hint of desperation in her tone.
Felix stares at her from the higher vantage point of their height disparity. He's not particularly tall but she's small for her age. Juniper stares right back, face set in that look of grim determination he's grown familiar with. Blue eyes meet brown without blinking or retreating. It never ceases to unnerve him.
It used to make Felix furious. He assumed it meant she didn't respect him. He had never in his life stared down an authority figure that way; he couldn't even imagine doing so. It was only after he'd known her for some time, watched her turn that face on other students, professors (Merlin's beard, even Snape!), that he realized it wasn't an insult or a sign of disrespect. It was just who she was: quietly determined not to be cowed when she believed she was in the right.
Felix's resolve gives one millimetre. "What is it then? Where are you going?"
Juniper considers. "If I tell you will you let me go?"
"No," he scoffs, "but I'll hear you out as long as it's not a lie."
Juniper shifts her weight a little, scrutinizing her prefect. "If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell a professor. Or anyone."
Felix raises an eyebrow. "You're not in a position to make deals."
"Then I can't tell you," she fires.
"Then I can't let you go," he rebuts.
Juniper worries her lip with her teeth. Her eyes are full of secret emotions Felix can't identify, but he can see an internal war is being waged.
"Look, I found a dr– creature in the forest." Felix does not miss her stumble. "It's hurt and I'm caring for it. It can't get food on its own. I have to –"
"What kind of creature?" he interrupts.
Juniper winces. "It's...a... dragon." She pushes the words out of her mouth one at a time as though they're reluctant to leave, but once the initial admission is free the rest follows swiftly.
"But it's not dangerous! I mean, it is dangerous, of course, but it's hurt! It can't fly, something happened to its wing. And it's small! It's just a baby, really, and it can't hunt for itself so I have to bring it food or it'll starve! And it's in the forest. I've never brought it into the castle and I'm not keeping it as a pet or anything. I'm just trying to help it so it can fly away, I promise!"
Juniper won't look at him as she rushes to get her arguments and assurances out all at once, so she doesn't see the subtle changes working through Felix's eyes and mouth as she speaks. His rational mind goes blank, as a part of himself long asleep stirs at the word "dragon". And when he opens his mouth next it's no longer Felix the Prefect who speaks, but Felix the little boy who spent hours of his childhood flipping through books on dragons under a table in his family's library.
"What kind of dragon?"
It's Juniper's turn to go blank. This is clearly not the response she was expecting.
"A Common Welsh Green. I'm pretty sure."
Silence. Juniper holds her breath. After what seems like full minutes, Felix speaks.
"Fine. You can go."
She breathes again."Rosier, than-"
"But I'm coming with you."
"-k you so- Wait, what?"
Three year old Felix Rosier had a picture book of dragons, a birthday gift from some relative or other, and the entirety of his unstructured free play time (which was very little) was devoted to gazing at the majestic creatures that flew across the pages. Eight year old Felix Rosier had secreted away what books he could find on dragons in his family's austere library and hidden them under his bed where he poured over them in the late hours of the night or early in the morning. And thirteen year old Felix Rosier had been unable to suppress his excitement for his first Care of Magical Creatures class, a class he continued to take even after his fifth year ("A well rounded education can only enhance a ministry career," he assured his parents).
He knew, had always known, had never needed to be told, that working with magical beasts was not an acceptable career choice for a wizard of his family lineage. A respectable, powerful, high-profile ministry career was his destiny; even the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures would be considered a major discredit to his family name. And so he had locked dragons away in that part of his mind where he kept everything about himself that was not Suitable. That was not becoming of the male heir to a sacred family.
Now, seventeen year old Felix finds himself sneaking through the dungeons, up to the entrance hall, out the front door, and into the castle grounds, a thing he has never done before, breaking more school rules than he wants to count, all for the chance of seeing a real, live dragon. A part of him, the part that speaks in his father's voice, demands he come to his senses, grab the silly thirteen year old by her oversized jumper, and drag her back to the common room before they're discovered. But another part of him is in control now. The part that knows this is his last year of freedom, his last chance to be himself, to make his own decisions. And so he continues to follow the soft, careful footsteps of the girl ahead of him, and his mental protestations grow quieter with every step.
They don't speak until they near the Dark Forest, passing Hagrid's cabin on the right, the sight of which sparks a question.
"Why haven't you told Professor Kettleburn about this?" asks Felix. "Or Hagrid? He loves dragons."
Juniper snorts with quiet laughter and rolls her eyes. "That's exactly why I didn't tell Hagrid. He loves dragons and he can't keep a secret. If I showed it to him, he'd try to adopt it. Keep it as a pet in his house or something. Or he'd accidentally mention it to someone and we'd both be in trouble. And Professor Kettleburn...well I don't really know him that well. I didn't know him at all this summer and that's when I found it and I've already built a sort of trust with it so it's not really that dangerous to me. Or I mean, it's not actively attacking me when I show up. And I was afraid if I gave it to Professor Kettleburn to take care of it might attack him and then the ministry would have to get involved because it's technically harmed a human and it's on school grounds and I don't know what they would do to it. I don't want it to be killed."
Felix follows the winding trail of this argument in his head and decides it sounds exactly like something a thirteen year old who has taken it upon herself to open a cursed vault would come up with, but he lets it go for the moment. He can always go to Kettleburn later, after he's seen a dragon.
"So, what exactly is your plan with this dragon?" Felix asks, a little breathless. Juniper's pace has quickened as they approach the forest.
Another snort. "My plan, such as it is, is to figure out what's wrong with it's wing and fix it if I can. Or find someone who can fix it."
He quirks an eyebrow more on instinct than for any effect, as it's dark and she's a pace and a half ahead of him.
"That's going to be more difficult than you think."
"Well, I didn't think it would be easy."
They round a corner into the forest and Juniper's pace slows a little as she lights her wand and picks a way through the brambles off the relative safety of the main path. Felix looks around at the dark trees, swaying ominously in the cool night wind and feels fear for the first time since this little adventure began. He's only ever been to the forest for classes, and never off the path. Certainly never at night, with only a third-year for any sort of protection.
Felix glances at Juniper. She's a few steps ahead, but has stopped moving and turned to face him. She jerks her head around to indicate the forest behind her.
"It's this way."
Fear requires Felix's brain to conjure up every terrible possibility and worst-case scenario. He narrows his eyes at the troublesome curse-breaker.
"This isn't some trick, is it? To try and get me lost or killed in the forest so you can carry on searching for the vaults?"
Juniper's wand tip illuminates her face so Felix can see several expressions cross it. He has the impression that she's resisting the urge to make a joke or a sarcastic comment.
Finally, she says simply, "I wouldn't do that to anyone. Not even Merula."
Juniper meets Felix's eyes, steadily, with an openness that makes him uncomfortable. He looks away, lighting his own wand and taking a step forward.
"You better not be."
They pick their way through the tangled grass and fallen branches that carpet the forest floor. Juniper walks steadily, wand tip held aloft, occasionally turning a little to one side, presumably searching for landmarks to help her find her way. Felix, on the other hand, is jumpy and cannot help jerking his wand around at every little sound or shadow, creating an arc of light that swings sporadically across the the dark foliage.
After a few minutes of this, Juniper turns on him, "Can you keep your wand down, please? Everything looks unfamiliar with that light dancing across it." Her tone is irritated but as she catches sight of his face, her expression softens and she cocks her head to the side. "Are you alright?"
Felix bristles, defensive from embarrassment and nerves. "Of course, Windsong. Just making sure one of us is alert. This forest is forbidden for a reason."
Juniper regards him steadily a moment longer, then continues forging a path. After a minute, she asks, "Do you know much about dragons?"
Felix's chin lifts just a few degrees. "Yes, as a matter of fact."
"What makes dragons so difficult to heal, then?"
Felix adopts that self-assured tone he uses when tutoring younger students. "Well, dragon hide is almost impervious to magic. Depending on the size and age and species, it can take up to a dozen strong, trained wizards casting the same spell for it to have any effect on a dragon. And that includes healing spells as well, so you can't simply cast episkey on one and expect its wound to heal. It's one of the reasons they're so endangered. They're very difficult to damage, but when they are wounded it's equally difficult for anyone to help them."
"Well, the book I read said younger dragons are more susceptible to magic as their hides aren't fully developed. And this dragon is definitely juvenile."
"How can you tell?" asks Felix, genuine curiousity replacing his usual tone of affected disdain.
"Well, it says Welsh Greens are usually around 18 feet when full grown which they reach at about 2 years. This one isn't even 9 feet yet so it can't be more than a year old. Maybe less. It didn't say at what rate they grow."
Felix is impressed. She's done her research. Of all the maddening things about Juniper Windsong, she did take time to prepare before throwing herself into impossible situations.
"What have you been reading?" Felix asks, "About dragon care I mean?"
"Just what's in the library. You know, Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland and A Dragons Keeper's Guide?"
Felix nods, not that she can see. He knows them well.
"But," continues Juniper, "the books on species don't go into specifics about caring for dragons, just their histories. And the guides that do talk about caring for dragons focus on things like talon clippings and scale rot. It's been a little helpful - helped me figure out what to feed it anyway - but they don't address more serious injuries. Not specialised enough I guess."
"I don't know that there are many books that detail how to heal a wound so grievous that the dragon can't fly," Felix posits sagely. "Although, in Men Who Love Dragons Too Much, the author debates whether..."
Felix is ten minutes into a lecture on dragon physiology when he catches sight of Juniper's face in the soft wand light as she turns to push aside a low branch. She's grinning widely, that ridiculous smile she has that pulls the left side of her face up and crinkles her eyes so they're almost closed, and only then does he realize how long he's been talking.
Chattering like an idiot, more like! Felix berates himself. He snaps his mouth shut immediately, lowering his wand to shine on the forest floor so the burning in his face won't be illuminated. But he notices his nerves have settled as the thought of dragons is once again at the forefront of his mind. He has a split second to wonder if that had been Juniper's intention in asking him about dragons in the first place when she throws out an arm to halt his movement.
"Okay," she says quietly. "We're almost there, but I've got to grab the food first. Wait here".
Juniper takes a few steps forward, ducking behind a tree trunk nearly as wide across as one of the Quidditch stands. Felix hears a scraping like stone moving over wood and slow grunts of exertion, then nothing. A minute passes, and he glances around nervously, then there's noise and movement again and Juniper is back, hefting a rather bulky sack over her shoulder. He gets a whiff of animal stench as she steps heavily over to him, bent a bit under the weight of the bag.
"Okay!" she says again, panting slightly. "Ready?"
Wordlessly, Felix reaches around her and tugs the sack off her shoulder and out of her hands.
"Oi!" Juniper makes a grab for it, but Felix has already swung it over his own shoulder, trying to make it look effortless although in truth it's even heavier than it looked. He's surprised someone her size managed to lug it the short distance she did.
"What's in here?" Felix inquires.
"Food," Juniper huffs, put out. "Dead rabbits and ferrets mostly. A few birds, but it doesn't like those as much. You don't have to do that you know, I can carry it just fine".
"Where on earth did you get a half tonne of dead animals?" he asks, ignoring her.
"Care of Magical Creatures."
"You stole these from Kettleburn?"
"I prefer re-appropriated. It's technically going to the care of a magical creature. I'm sure he wouldn't mind."
Felix starts to mentally calculate the number of rules he's broken this evening and feels nauseous. "Well? Lead on, then."
With a last disgruntled look at the bag he's now hefting, Juniper turns and picks a way carefully between two enormous trees twined so closely together they're almost indistinguishable from each other.
Felix follows, slowly, his movements exaggerated as he tries to keep the bag from catching on the branches. He's so focused on this task the sudden humming that sounds just ahead startles him badly. He whips his head around at the noise and catches the side of his face on a branch. He lets out a light curse, and reaches for the injury, feeling wet blood. Juniper hasn't noticed, she's too far ahead, and humming. The tune is vaguely familiar and far too loud, echoing eerily in the forest stillness.
She really is mad, Felix marvels, and opens his mouth to order her to keep her voice down. But the admonishment dies on his lips when he hears another sound: deep, clear, and melodious, almost like the ringing of a heavy bell, but with the tremulous undulation that only a throat can produce. A powerful, fiery throat.
It must be the roar of a Welsh Green dragon, provides the part of Felix's brain that can still think, it's always described as musical in books. But now he hears it, he realizes that description is only technically accurate, in the same way that describing the Eiffel Tower as "tall" or the Dark Lord as "not very nice" is technically accurate.
Felix trips over his own feet pushing through the branches to get to the source of the song. He tears through the trees and emerges onto slightly tamer knotgrass, now entirely unaware of the weight of the bag bouncing on his back or the blood trickling down the side of his face, and stops beside Juniper at the lip of what appears to be a small ditch. She's still humming her familiar song, and smiling. Her voice is rather good, high-pitched and sweet, but next to the dragon's song it sounds like so much noise.
The dragon roars again, and Felix can feel it reverberate inside his chest, the sensation somehow sending both heat and chills down his body as though he's swallowed frozen lava. Now that he's here, right here, right in front of it, he finds for some reason he's almost afraid to look directly at the thing he came all this way to see. It takes a ridiculous amount of effort to raise his eyes from the ground in front of his feet to the creature in the ditch. But once he manages it, Felix can't tear his eyes away.
The light from both their wands reflects large, reptilian eyes that fade from bright yellow to smoldering orange. Moonlight shines on a body of the most remarkable shades of green, causing it to sparkle as though it's made of emeralds instead of scales. Its mouth opens as it emits another low roar and he sees razor sharp teeth, pearly white and somehow too long for its mouth. Its roar may be song-like, but when it turns its eyes on Felix it's with a look of such ferocity his stomach turns over. It lowers its head between its front legs as if it's ready to spring and he's never felt more terrified. Or exhilarated.
Felix feels Juniper tugging at the bag on his shoulder and he relaxes his grip, his gaze never leaving the dragon. She fumbles about in the sack with one hand as best she can while still facing forward. Out of the corner of his eye, Felix sees her toss something down into the ditch.
And the dragon strikes. In the space of a heartbeat, its neck uncoils like a cobra and snatches the rabbit out of the air. It crunches twice before swallowing, then looks back up at the humans. The dragon's eyes are now on Juniper, regarding her warily but somehow with less ferocity than before. Felix wonders how its eyes can have so much expression, and how every book he's ever read has failed to mention this.
He's still staring slack jawed as Juniper tugs more carcasses from the bag he's let slide down his shoulder to the ground. The entirety of his attention being on the dragon, Felix doesn't notice the girl drop down into the ditch until the dragon lowers its gaze to where she's now stepping toward it slowly, a dead rabbit held out in front of her. The dragon emits another low, musical roar and now Felix is frozen for an entirely different reason.
"Hello, Sparky!" Juniper says in a low sing-song as she closes the distance between herself and the startlingly green beast.
It may be juvenile, Felix thinks, but it's still bloody enormous in comparison with her small size, and he hasn't the first idea what to do. He wants to yell: at Juniper to get back or at the dragon to distract it, he isn't sure. But it doesn't matter as his vocal chords have frozen along with the rest of his limbs.
Felix watches helplessly as the tiny thirteen year old stops just before easy striking distance and gently tosses the rabbit toward the dragon's mouth. Again, its neck elongates with supernatural speed, catching the rabbit a second after it's in the air. Juniper takes a few quick steps back while it savors this new treat, and the rapid action restores Felix's mobility.
He raises the wand that's been slack at his side, aims at the dragon's eyes, and calls down to her tightly, "Windsong, get back up here now."
Both the girl and the dragon whip their heads around at Felix, Juniper with a look of alarm and a frantic shushing gesture, and the dragon with a blood-curdling, discordant shriek like someone attempting to play every note on an oboe all at once. It crouches, head dropping between its forelegs, and leaps toward the lip of the ditch directly below where Felix is standing.
Pure human survival instinct causes Felix to jump backward, his brain screaming at him to run, but he trips over roots and falls to the ground. He can now see only the dragon's terrible, fiery eyes as it attempts to raise its head over the side of the ditch wall.
"Sparky!" Felix hears Juniper call to the dragon in that soothing, sing-song voice, and the eyes suddenly vanish. Felix can hear crunching, then Juniper's voice again, still in that same dulcet tone. "Rosier, please don't yell. Everything's alright, just stay up there and try not to distract it."
For a long time, exactly how long he doesn't know, Felix can only sit in the dirt and tangled grass, trying to catch his breath and waiting for his heart to stop pounding. His father's voice is triumphant in his head. You shouldn't be here. You're not a foolhardy adventurer. You're a Rosier. The heir to a powerful house and a sacred name. You've disgraced yourself just by being part of this ridiculous scheme.
Felix feels like a fool. Which makes him angry. He stands, finally, with as much dignity as he can muster, brushing the dirt from his clothes and reaching up to slick back his hair. He turns toward the ditch, debating whether to pull Windsong out with a summoning charm or to simply leave her there and try to find the way back to the castle on his own.
But Felix's anger deflates as he takes in the spectacle below him: Juniper, arm outstretched toward the emerald dragon now crouching beside her, stroking the side of its neck, slowly and carefully. He thinks she might be speaking to it softly, but he's too far away to hear any words, just the dragon's answer, a contended rumbling hum, like sustained bass notes on a piano. It's eyes are open and still deadly, but somehow more relaxed, the yellow irises crackling softly like a warm house fire.
It's the most beautiful thing Felix has ever seen.
And for the first time in his life, Felix feels a desperate, burning desire to be someone else. To be that awkward little thirteen year old girl in the ditch below him. To be the person standing there, toe to toe with an actual dragon; communicating with it, communing with it. To be anyone else; because anyone else could choose a life spent chasing after these incredible, impossible creatures; patiently learning their secrets, understanding them better than anyone else, and appreciating them like no one else could.
Felix is hypnotized. He watches Juniper stroke the dragon's scales until it's stretched out on the ground in front of her, then watches her walk slowly around its side, talking softly all the while, to try to inspect its left wing. He watches her touch the wing gently and step back as the dragon growls its displeasure and re-positions itself. He watches her do this again and again for what could be minutes or hours. Felix watches her and envisions himself, and each successive fantasy of soothing and inspecting a dragon that permits his presence, that knows him and prefers him over anyone else, causes something in him to ache with a terrible longing. He's never been in love, never really desired anyone, but he thinks this must be what that feels like.
Lost in his thoughts, Felix doesn't notice Juniper climbing out the ditch until he hears his own name. He looks up from the dragon, now resting quietly in a patch of grass toward the back of what the velvety dark blue sky reveals to be a small valley or ravine, to find her staring down at him.
"Did you fall asleep?"
"No," says Felix simply, standing up and dazedly taking stock of his surroundings. The color of the sky means dawn is on the way; they must have been out here for hours. He realizes with a jolt that he has classes today.
"What time is it?" he demands.
"A little after four, I think. We need to head back if we want to be inside before Filch starts his morning rounds." Juniper picks up the sack lying next to him and starts off back the way they came, and after a last look at the dragon, Felix hurries after her.
They walk back in silence, Felix still trying to organize his thoughts. Juniper stops by the giant tree to store the bag of animal bodies and Felix realizes belatedly that he ought to have carried it back for her, like a gentleman. But his brain can't seem to keep up with the present; his mind is still back in the clearing with the dragon.
Thankfully, Juniper doesn't try to force conversation as they make their way out of the forest, across the grounds, and into the castle just as the sky begins to turn a steely grey. Felix barely registers the return journey and is a little surprised to find they've stopped before the secret entrance to their common room and are waiting for the bricks to part. As they step through, Felix makes an effort to clear his head. He knows there are things he should be saying and doing now, he just can't put his finger on what they are. So he stands, stupidly, surveying the common room without really seeing anything.
"You might want to clean yourself up before everyone's awake," says Juniper, and Felix realizes she's standing in front of him. "And maybe skip class this morning, get some sleep. You look a bit..." she looks him up and down, searching for a word, "rumpled." she finishes lamely.
If she says anything further, Felix doesn't register it. His next clear thought comes only when he's standing in front of the mirror in the boys washroom surveying his "rumpled" appearance. His school jumper is filthy and torn in several places, as are his trousers, the back of which he can feel are caked in a layer of dirt and dry leaves. His hair is disheveled, pieces sticking up every which way. Blood is smeared across the side of his face where he'd caught it on a branch and his hands are coated in grime. He's certain he has never looked this worse for wear.
Well, that's adventure for you, says the rational part of his brain, reasserting itself smugly, messy, dirty, chaotic. A past time best left to Gryffindors.
Felix pulls out his wand and casts episkey on the long, shallow cut on his cheek. It heals immediately, leaving it impossible to tell where it had been. Almost as though it never happened, he muses. And the feeling it stirs in him is unpleasant and unfamiliar. He isn't sure how he expected to feel. He hadn't planned that far ahead (most unlike him), being entirely fixated on seeing a dragon. Which he has done, and survived, and now... it's over.
Not necessarily, whispers another voice in his head, much less familiar. There's no reason not to go back and see it again. It's doubtful Windsong will stop just because she's been caught.
This mad thought shakes Felix from his stupor. He pulls himself together, glaring at his reflection. Absolutely not. He does not do ridiculous, reckless things that aren't even going to earn house points (except of course, for everything's he done this evening, the cheeky voice points out; he ignores it). He's going to pull Windsong aside the first chance he gets, insist that she stop this nonsense or he'll have no choice but to turn her in, and forget that the whole thing ever occurred.
Felix strips off his soiled clothing and pulls a nightshirt over his head as he makes this decision. He expects to feel relieved, as he generally does, at the formulation of a solid plan. Instead, he feels empty and somehow heartsick, as if he's lost something precious. Felix collapses into his bed, exhaustion welling up inside him, and the dragon's piercing eyes are the last things he sees before sleep claims him.