Disclaimer: No science as usual. Do not mistake this fiction for fact. I am in no way a veterinarian or expert on dogs. Also, I don't own it.

It may seem like I'm rushing through this year, and I would like to clarify. I absolutely am. There's only so much that's interesting at this point in the story. Rest assured, there will be more content in later years.

(Transitions look like this. If you haven't picked up on that by now, I can't say what you've been doing, but it was not good for memory.)

Catalyst

"You can't keep a dragon, Hagrid!" Hermione exclaimed. "You live in a wood hut!"

"Ah, little Norby wouldn't hurt a fly. Isn't that right?" the hybrid said, holding the infant dragon up to his face, where it was doing its best to set his eyebrows on fire. Abathur watched, transfixed. He could practically feel the essence in the creature, and it was all he could do to suppress the automatic reaction of the salivary glands. The ability of flight despite the obvious unsuitability for it, the seemingly endless supply of psionic infused fire, the armor, the strength, the power he could feel flowing off its every cell, everything about it screamed to Abathur to collect the dragons strands. If the giant-human hybrid turned his back for just a minute...

"My brother Charlie works at a dragon reserve. Maybe we could give the dragon to him," Ron suggested. An unacceptable outcome. The dragon essence belonged to Abathur, even if the terrans and the dragon didn't know it yet. Unfortunately, the others seemed to like that idea quite a bit. Perhaps redirection was in order?

"Alternate proposal. Dragon flesh, known to be beneficial to consume, very tasty. Rare opportunity. Consumption, leaves little trace. Solves all problems," Abathur said, looking directly at Ron. The terran had been observed to have a large appetite, critical in convincing the group. It certainly wasn't ideal, sharing the essence, but some was better than none, and he could probably get the skeleton too. An elegant solution. It didn't explain why all the others were staring at him, though.

In the end, the dragon was ferried away to the reserve, without Abathur ever getting a taste.

(Transition)

Abathur was almost ashamed that he had never been to the corridor that promised certain death earlier. Anything that would doom terrans was more likely to be very interesting to Abathur than actually deadly, it really should have been a high priority much earlier. To be fair, he only learned that it had promised certain death when his camouflage mentioned it during tea at the hybrid's house. Perhaps he should listen more to the terrans when they had those long speeches.

Regardless, Abathur was on his way now to take a look through it, when his camouflage quite literally ran into him. Ron, to be more precise, rounded a corner too quickly and rammed into Abathur, knocking them both to the ground. Both quickly got to their feet, Abathur coming up first with his wand in his wand, Ron a few seconds behind, Harry and Hermione standing behind. There were a few tense seconds where both participants were ready to fight each other, before recognition kicked in.

"Abathur? What are you doing here?" Ron asked, confused. Abathur was about to respond when Ron interrupted. "You know what, doesn't matter. Come on, we need your help! Snape's going to go after the Stone tonight!" Ron said, an excited expression on his face. Abathur had very little idea what he was talking about, so he did his best to mimic the expression while he racked his memory for the phrase. He had found that to be very effective when he didn't have any idea what humans were talking about. Still, he really should start paying more attention.

"I know, right?" Ron said, observing his expression. "Come on, we have to go quick!" The group resumed their frenzied rush, with the addition of Abathur. Abathur himself was just following along, not entirely sure what was going on, but certain that it was likely going to be interesting. Soon enough, the group arrived in front of the corridor that Abathur himself had wanted to explore, a happy coincidence. Right outside the door, the terrans stopped seemingly nervous, wands in hand.

"You have the flute, right, Harry?" asked Hermione.

"Yeah," Harry replied. Still, he seemed reluctant to enter. So, Abathur opened it for them, and looked inside. The only thing in there was a giant three-headed canine, loosely chained to the wall. Hardly interesting. In all honesty, the room was something of a disappointment. Of course, it could still represent a threat, showed by the three heads growling at him, before leaning back on his hind legs, preparing to jump. In response, Abathur pulled out his wand, evaluating the creature. The muscles were lackluster, showing a lack of exercise. The heads were poorly placed, they would get in each others way, reducing the efficiency of each. The mass was more of a detriment than a boon, making the heart work harder to power the already weak muscles, and providing too much weight on a creature designed for running. It was ridiculous, as if someone had thought you could just make something bigger and add more appendages to make it more dangerous, then lock it in one area and have it ready to fight at any time. Abathur could see a dozen ways to make it better.

Abathur was shaken out of his observations when the hound jumped. Again, slowly and inefficiently with that mass. A "wingardium leviosa," stopped the beast in its tracks, suspended in midair. Abathur flung the beast against the wall, stunning it. Not pausing, Abathur quickly said "petrificus totalus", locking the hound in place. Abathur approached the paralyzed being, taking a few hair samples for later consumption. He placed his free hand on one of the hounds necks, flexing his palm once. The dogs eyes turned glassy, and whatever movements it had left stopped. The whole thing had taken less than ten seconds. A pitiful display by a poorly made strain.

Abathur turned back to the terrans. They stood there, looking stunned, gazes alternating between the downed dog and Abathur himself. Harry held a flute, pulled halfway out of a pocket. It was an annoying habit, being stunned, that humans seemed to indulge in far too often for his tastes. Fortunately, this particular collection seemed to recover quickly.

"Um, good job Abathur. Come on, we have to keep going," Harry said, breaking the other two out of their stupor. Hermione seemed to take a bit longer than Ron, muttering about how dangerous Cerberus's were supposed to be, but she shook herself out of it soon enough.

Hermione moved to a trapdoor, previously hidden beneath the multi-headed canine, and opened it, peering down. She was soon followed by the rest of the group. All that was visible was darkness, even Abathur could only see vague shapes.

"Should we head down?" Hermione asked.

"We have to," said Harry. "We can't let Snape get the Stone."

"Cannot do if dead. Distance unknown. Likely fatal. Recommend getting more information, can find solution," Abathur said, lighting his wand with a Lumos, and pointing it down the pit. The light reached down the gap, revealing that not only was the hole less than 10 feet deep, someone had planted a convenient platform of plant growth. Not seeing any threat, Abathur jumped down, followed by his camouflage, landing on the vine laden platform. Out of habit, Abathur quickly consumed a sample. Then another. Then another. It was a fascinating specimen. Designed to strangle? But then why wasn't it... ah, weakness to light. Unusual in plants, but fixable. This could make a nice trap, perhaps a new kind of crawler? Abathur noticed the others' eyes on him as he devoured the plant.

"Did not have salad. Am hungry," Abathur said defensively. Ron hesitantly tried a bite, then spat it out.

"You must be really hungry mate," Ron said, shivering in disgust.

"Come on, we have to keep going!" Harry said, rushing ahead. Soon the quartet entered into a room filled with winged, colorful keys, sealed by a large door and a noticeable keyhole. Harry took the lead, grabbing a broom and seizing the key, before inserting it into the lock. The next chamber was noticeably empty, despite the obvious signs of something supposed to be there. It had an empty feel, and the terrans moved through it quickly.

The next chamber was much more interesting, containing a number of still statues arranged in two rows on each end, one colored white, one black.

"It's chess," said Ron

"I think we have to win to pass it," Hermione guessed.

Harry and Hermione turned to Ron. "Do you think you can do this?" Harry asked. "We only get one shot."

Ron gulped, looking at the figures, most of which looked like they would crush him in a second. "Yes," he finally said.

Abathur observed as Ron directed his troops. The game looked interesting, a valid tool for training tactics, and Ron was far from unskilled. It may be worth investigating this game in the future, no doubt it would provide a nice diversion.

Soon the opposing side was crushed, their king surrounded, with the minimal sacrifice of Ron. Clearly whatever was going on was important enough for him to sacrifice himself to allow the progression of the rest, a distinctly unterran attitude. Abathur resolved once again to pay attention to conversations in the future.

Soon the remaining three entered the next room, dominated by a table in the center holding up seven containers, as well as a single piece of paper. Harry led the way, moving cautiously to the center of the room. Just as everyone had gotten to the center, purple flames burst from the walls, forcing them to move forward to the center. At the same time, black flames moved from the door ahead, blocking their path Hermione read the paper.

"One of the potions will let us move forward, another will let us move back, and the rest are wine or-"

"Forward, back, wine, poison, poison, poison, wine," Abathur said. Another example of the terrans folly, their potions were so simple to analyze. Abathur removed the poison bottles, slipping them in his cloak for later consumption. New toxins were almost always interesting, so varied. Only two bottles were left, the one that allowed forward movement, half drained. The terrans looked at it, uncertainty filling their face.

"There's only enough for one," Hermione said. "Harry, you go through. You're the one that has to do this. And Abathur and I will both head back, but... there's not enough in that bottle either."

"Hermione, Harry, can go. Current position, adequate. Can find another way," Abathur replied. It would get them out of sight, where he could get through on his own. Fire resistance wasn't too hard to do, especially with how low intensity these ones seemed to be. The troll based skin should help.

"Alright, if you're sure," said Hermione, relenting. She took the potion and went back through the purple inferno.

"Good luck Abathur," Harry said, before he too disappeared into the flame, leaving Abathur alone. Once the terrans had disappeared through the flame, Abathur began his work, sending signals to his skin to produce an insulating layer, increasing the water content of the surface cells. Abathur sat still as his skin grew distorted, as if seen through moving water. Now protected, Abathur stood, and, without hesitation, stepped through the black fire. That was a mistake.

The flames burned Abathur, eating through most of the protective layer instantly. Soon enough it got to his skin, where it caused his flesh to blister and bubble, scorching the cells, causing them to burst. His nerve cells sent signals of agony, almost enough to make Abathur collapse. Whatever fire this is wasn't normal, wasn't containable, wasn't stoppable by what Abathur had. He should have taken a sample of the potion. This was far from ideal.

Fortunately, Abathur soon made his way through the flames, scorched, but alive and healing. He stumbled into the next chamber to see Harry wrapped up in ropes, and the professor with the brain defect monologuing. More interestingly, monologuing without any apparent errors. A false act? Plausible. After all, if Abathur could do it, then a terran already familiar with this society could as well. Fortunately, it appeared neither participant had noticed him, leaving Abathur free to observe the remainder of the room. Which didn't take long as the only other object in the room was the Mirror, repaired.

That shouldn't be too hard to correct. That pathetic mockery wouldn't stay intact if Abathur had anything to say about it. Avoiding the notice of the imposter, Abathur made his way around the room. With a levitation charm, Abathur had the mirror in the air. After a moment of consideration, Abathur sent it flying into the imposter. Harry likely wouldn't think it odd, considering his current position, and Abathur hadn't got around to harvesting any of the psionic's essence yet. With a loud crash, the mirror slammed into the imposters back, shattering it, and sending the imposter to the ground. Taking advantage of the distraction, Harry freed himself.

The imposter recovered surprisingly quickly, turning to Abathur with rage on his face. "You..." he said. "What did you do?" Harry took advantage of the distraction, grabbing the imposter around the neck. Surprisingly, the imposter then started to burn where Harry touched him, which, given the position of the hands, quickly interrupted the flow of blood to the brain, resulting in a quick death. Unfortunately, the corpse then crumbled utterly, leaving behind no essence for Abathur. Harry also seemed to lose consciousness, lying limp on the ground, leaving Abathur essentially alone.

As a burst of fire heralded the headmaster and an avian Abathur would very much like to get his hands on, the only thing Abathur could focus on was that he still had no idea what was going on.

Zergling: One of the main combat units of the swarm, zerglings are living manifestations of one of the swarms main strengths, their ability to spawn an unending stream of lighter units. Zerglings are relatively small creatures, often compared to hounds, albeit ones with carapace, wings, clawed limbs extending from their back, and tusks. While not all that dangerous on their own, there is no such thing as a lone zergling. From the moment of their birth, there are two, in some strains even three, zerglings from a single larva, their DNA simple enough to spawn numerous copies. Combined with their low costs and extremely rapid movement and attacks, zerglings are often seen swarming in massive amounts, bringing armies and structures death in seconds, even in highly developed hive clusters capable of deploying more advanced creatures. Zerglings also possess the ability to morph into the highly explosive Baneling.