Hi again!

It's been like almost three weeks and I'm sorry for not updating, I've been really busy. But I'll explain that at the end of the chapter.

So...

Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own Inheritance Cycle or Harry Potter. They belong to Christopher Paolini and J.K. Rowling respectively.

CHAPTER 2: The Perfect Timing

Someday everything will make perfect sense. So, for now, laugh at the confusion, smile through the tears and keep reminding yourself that everything happens for a reason.

-Unknown

"Where do you think Hagrid is?" Ron asked, probably for the thousandth time that afternoon, making Hermione and Harry groan.

"We don't know, Ron!" answered Hermione, like Ron, for about thousandth time. "We've already told you that! But you know what Sir-"

Harry cleared his throat very loudly. Even if no one was around, he wasn't comfortable with saying Sirius' name out loud. Someone could be invisible and listening in on their conversation. And he knew that first hand.

Hermione quickly corrected herself. "I mean, Snuffles's said that he's sure Hagrid's fine. And though there are a lot of things you can call Snuffles, liar is most certainly not one of them."

Ron finally gave in. He nodded and started walking towards the castle with his head bowed. The other two followed. They walked in silence for a while, the only sounds audible their footsteps and their breathing.

Harry raised his head and looked towards the sky.

"It's going to rain again," he announced, his tone dark.

Ron and Hermione, too, raised their heads.

"Not just that," said Hermione. "It seems like there'll be a storm, too."

"Great," grumbled Ron. "Just what we need for Quidditch. Wet and soaking grass."

"Ron, you play in the air, on flying broomsticks," the bushy-haired girl pointed out. "I think the grass underneath is kind of irrelevant."

"Yeah, but when we land, everything just splashes around and our robes get soaked and it takes forever to clean them!" the ginger rambled. "Then there's the fact that it is immensely hard to wash the mud out and there's a possibility that this kind of weather won't stop and it'll continue 'till the Quidditch game and we could get trashed around the air and our brooms might ruin - I mean, look what happened to Harry in our third year,-"

"Dementors were there that time, you know, I doubt they'll dare to show up again - Dumbledore will eat them alive. And about the dirty robes -you should try the cleaning charm. It really helps."

"Yeah, but..."

They went on and on like that. Meanwhile, Harry stayed back and kept looking at the sky. Something was about to happen and it wasn't a storm. He turned to call out to his friends, only to find them in a heated argument about SPEW. How they got to there, he had no idea. It was but five minutes since he stopped listening to their conversation.

"The house-elves don't want to be free, Hermione! They li-"

"Don't you dare say they like being enslaved! They're just too afraid-"

"Hey, guys?" Harry called. No answer.

"-to admit it!"

"Phew! Have you-?"

"Um, guys?" Harry tried again.

"-seen the looks they gave you when you praised Dobby for wanting to be a free elf last year?"

"He should be proud of that and so must be Harry! He freed him!"

"I am proud of that, I just wish I Wouldn't have told you - it'd make my life so much easier," muttered Harry to himself. Luckily for him, his friends missed that, too. "But you've got to see this!"

"And Winky! She, too, is free and she should cherish it! I'm going to make them realize th-"

"GUYS!" bellowed Harry, finally having enough of their bickering. "For the love of God, would you just look?!"

They turned to him, their eyes huge. They looked at where he was pointing and, if possible, their eyes widened even more.

In the sky, right in the dark grey clouds, an oval-shaped patch of light appeared. But it wasn't as if sunlight streamed through the clouds, it was as the patch itself glowed, shone, from its depths. It was something they had never seen before and they doubted they'll see it again.

"What is that?" Hermione breathed out, her expression one of awe.

"I don't know," answered Ron with his expression matching hers and their argument long forgotten.

"I-"

No one ever found out what Harry was about to say because at that exact moment something fell, no, was thrown, from the patch of light. All they could see was a blur of sapphire blue, before it crashed right in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, breaking many dozens of trees and scaring every living being around. a large flock of birds flew up into the air, their distressed chirping reaching them without any trouble.

"What was that?" cried Harry in surprise, but he didn't wait to hear his friends' answers.

He dashed forward and Ron and Hermione immediately followed. By the time they caught up with him, he was already at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"Wait, Harry," Hermione grabbed his arm. "you can't go in there. It's the Forbidden Forest."

He shook her hand off. "I don't care."

He ran forward again, this time without stopping. Ron and Hermione looked at each other.

"He's too rash for his own good," muttered Ron but he, too ran into the Forbidden Forest.

"Why am I friends with them?" sighed Hermione exasperatedly before she pulled out her wand, prepared it and traced after the boys.

It really wasn't that hard to find the path to where the thing fell. All the Forest's residents were fleeing from it. It took them quite a lot of time to get there, though. The path itself wasn't that long, but is was surrounded by thick trees and bushes. When they finally reached the end of their path, their clothes were ripped in many places, but they didn't even notice for what was on front of them, made them forget about the world around them.

Harry stumbled into the clearing the thing made, first. He stopped abruptly and Ron and Hermione crashed right into him.

"Harry!" they wailed indignantly.

He payed them no heed, his eyes trained on what was in front of him. His friends, too, gazed at it and gasped in shock as they did so. Hermione's knees buckled and Ron quickly caught, without even being aware of doing so. They were all looking at the thing before their eyes.

Or rather, two things.

A boy.

And ... a blue dragon.

HELP!

Glaedr woke up from his slumber, startled. If he still had a body, his eyes would be wide and his body tense. But he didn't and he quickly reached out with his mind to touch the other Eldunarya's mind.

Was that... he trailed off.

Eragon? finished white-former-leader-now-Eldunarí-Umaroth for him. And for once his mind had a hint of panic in it. Yes. Hatchlings are in trouble.

I should've known, grumbled the golden Eldunarí, but he was worried for his latest-now-last-hatchlings. They were the last ones he taught, after all. Well, at least the last ones he and his partner-of-heart-and-mind-Oromis taught together. What happened?

We don't know, responded the-oldest-of-the-sane-heart-of-hearts-Valdr. I've just contacted the two-legs-pointy-ears. They've started searching for them.

We should, too, Umaroth said and all the other Eldunarya sent their consent.

But before they could reach out with their minds, another voice spoke, one that had joined them only recently.

O-Our-blue-bonded-hatchling-Saphira and her-Rider-half-pointy-ears-Eragon a-are missing?

The voice was different than those of the bonded dragons. It was wilder, freer, prouder... once. Now it was hollow, broken, shattered. That voice belonged to Vervada Stormcleaver, or at least to who she once was.

Glaedr remembered what she was like before the Fall. She was fierce - a trait that her daughter undoubtedly inherited -, proud - again, something that was passed on to her only daughter bonded with a Rider - and cold. She was not, however, vain as Saphira was and she did not know how to comfort others, hence her coldness. She didn't tolerate any kind of weakness, but she treated everyone equally, be it a newly hatched hatchling or the leader of the wild dragons. She didn't hesitate to give her opinion, be it good or bad - discretion wasn't her strongest quality - and she was a bit hot-headed, too.

Her temporary mate and Saphira's father, Iormûngur, was a complete opposite of her. He wasn't too fierce or proud, but he was protective, warm, compassionate and incredibly vain - Saphira's vanity faded in comparison to his. He and his Rider were in the Rider council, known for their calm and reasonable minds - the only thing the bonded pair had in common, really.

Yes.

Umaroth's simple and short answer brought Glaedr back in the present, where he focused on the task at hand - find and help Saphira and Eragon.

I want to help, Vervada stated.

I don't think that is wise, Stormcleaver, white-formerly-leader-now-Eldunarí-Umaroth countered.

I want to help! growled Vervada and for a second, Glaedr could see glimpse of the ferocity fierce-and-cold-Vervada once possessed. A few of younger wild dragons recoiled from the other Eldunarya's minds - a force of habit, Glaedr supposed. Fierce-and-cold-Vervada was the best teacher of the wild dragons and her offspring was known to be the best of the dragons, but her techniques weren't the prettiest. She's my last hatchling alive!

Let her be, cousin, interfered Glaedr. We're losing precious time arguing.

A feeling of disapproval radiated from Umaroth's Eldunarí, but he let the subject drop and said nothing more on the matter. Instead, the other Eldunarya joined their minds with the three of them. All of the sane ones joined for none considered it unimportant even if they were wild dragons in time of their lives. They all came to respect Eragon, for his stubborn determination, and Saphira, for her fiery protectiveness, in the short months they'd spent together with them.

They reached out with their minds, in search of the bonded pair. The elves had searched for them, too, and by the time Eldunarya started, they had been doing so for about quarter of a hour. And search they did. For hours. Their minds reached all the way to the banks of the Edda river and almost to Du Weldenvarden. Glaedr even felt a mind of one of the two-legs-pointy-ears brush his thoughts lightly.

But their seeking was in vain. They didn't find them alive or unconscious to their utmost concern but nor did they find their corpses and that was at least some kind of relief. There wasn't a sign of them. It drove Vervada on the verge of insanity and considering she had just become somewhat sane again, it wasn't the healthiest thing for her.

We shouldn't stop. We must continue, she said, but her undertone told them that she was slowly giving up. They could've been unconscious until now and we might be able to find them now. Please, we can't stop looking.

It is to no avail, said Glaer and though he never was nostalgic, the last time he spoke those exact words and who he spoke them to were burned into his mind.

It is to no avail, hatchling, Glaedr said. She won't wake up. She's too deep in her misery.

I don't care, retorted the elf-like man that was sitting on the wooden floor in the lower deck of Talíta. I know how important this'd be to Saphira and I won't give up on her.

Glaedr sighed within his mind. Eragon always was and always will be stubborn as a mule. Once he got his mind set on something, there simply was no convincing him to do otherwise even if it meant risking his own life in the process, which in this case, to peace of Glaedr's mind, wasn't at risk.

At that moment, Eragon was gazing at a midnight blue Eldunarí in his lap, his face set into a determined frown despite that fatigue radiated from his entire figure and mind. For that alone, Glaedr felt a small amount of awe for the young Rider. Ever since he learned of Vervada's Eldunarí's existence during a series of unexpected but also highly amusing events - which involved him being thrown off her back by Saphira for insulting her, though unintentionally, crashing through Talíta's deck and landing in the middle of the insane Eldunarya, that had been warded, to their utmost fortune - a few weeks back, he had been coming to the lower deck every night, where he spent hours trying to converse with the once-wild-and-proud-dragoness. He left only a few hours before dawn, before Saphira or the elves awoke. But he was always up early, ready to train. Saphira suspected nothing. There wasn't a night that he didn't show up.

Why are you doing this, Eragon? the golden Eldunarí asked, curious as to why the Blue Rider was doing it. It surely isn't just because of your love for Saphira.

The young man sighed and ran a hand through thick brown locks, his face finally showing a sign of exhaustion. My parents are dead and I never got a chance to meet them, not really. But Saphira's mother is, if not sane, at least alive and I'm going to do everything that's in my power to get her back to Saphira. If I can't have my parents back, at least Saphira can.

A flurry of deep emotions passed through Glaedr, but he recognized them all. Pride. Longing. Respect. Warm surprise. And many more. You've grown, hatchling, he said, pride lacing his voice. I just might have to stop calling you hatchling in the next decade.

A small smile graced Eragon's features, but before he could answer, a feminine voice spoke.

Saphira? My-hatchling-Saphira?

And now, just a day later, he found himself saying words that he had never ever expected to say in association with Eragon and Saphira.

They're gone.

Harry was the first one to recover from the shock of the sight before them. He cautiously stepped forward despite his friends' warnings. He crouched and turned over the boy in front of him. He was wearing a plain beige tunic, a dark blue vest over it, black breeches and black boots, that once might've been clean and noble, but now they were just muddy and bloodied. Harry couldn't quite distinguish the boy's features for they, too, were stained by a mixture of blood and mud, but he could see that he had brown hair. Around the boy's hips a belt was fastened and on it...

"A sword," said Hermione as she and Ron approached him and Harry inspected it closer in the dim light of the Forbidden Forest.

It was sapphire blue and it seemed to be the same color as the dragon before them. There was a strange glyph on the scabbard and there was a sapphire embedded in its pommel, held in place by four claw-like ribs. The grip was made from black hardwood.

"Who is he?" asked Ron. His face was scratched and his clothes were torn, as were Hermione's. Harry was sure he didn't look any better. "And more importantly, what is a dragon doing here?" His face was wary, but at the same time awed, as he gazed at the blue dragon.

Harry had to admit that, though the sight was terrifying to behold, the dragon before his eyes was, unlike the dragons he'd met so far, beautiful. It had sapphire scales that refracted the light and bone white talons and spikes, though they were dirty from mud. Its head was triangular and it also possessed four cheek spines, slightly curved horns and forehead spines between its horns. It had two serrated fangs that jutted out of its upper jaw onto its bottom lip slightly. Its wings looked like they were from velvet, but they protruded from the body at a weird angle and Harry supposed that they were broken. His eyes roved over its back and to his utter surprise, the dragon had a saddle between two of its spikes.

Hermione suddenly let out a sound that was half squeak half scream and the boys turned to looked at her, startled.

"There's a dragon in the Forbidden Forest! And we're just inspecting it like it is a mere horse!" She said hysterically. And it was only when she said it, it was that the situation they had found themselves in hit the boys in full. They quickly jumped back like just the proximity to the boy poisoned them. "We should go get professors," suggested the girl and for once, Harry couldn't agree with her more. "I'll go get them."

The boys nodded, she turned on her heel and disappeared into the darkness of the forest, wand at ready. Ron and Harry pulled out their wands as well, pointed them at the boy and sat down.

Fifteen minutes later, Ron spoke up. "How is it that it is always us that get into trouble?" he asked.

"I've got absolutely no idea, " Harry answered as his lips stretched into a strained smirk. "Dad and Sirius'd be proud, though."

Ron chuckled. "Undoubtedly, mate."

And the clearing fell silent again.

Half an hour later, the rustling of the leaves and snapping of twigs sounded through the dead silent clearing, making them jump on their feet their wands pointed to whomever was coming through the forest.

They were instantly relieved as Dumbledore's voice floated through the air: "Dear boys, if you'd, please, lower your wands, for there is no cause to raise them against us."

A moment later, he entered the clearing in his sky blue robes, his bright blue eyes sparkling in the dim light. He was soon followed by Hermione, McGonall and Snape. Hermione instantly positioned herself next to her friends, McGonall shot a half stern half concerned look in their direction and Snape just regarded them with his usual death glare. Eragon pointedly ignored him and observed Dumbledore, who was inspecting the boy and the dragon. All was silent as Dumbledore crouched over the boy. Then, he sighed, stood up and glanced at them.

"The boy is injured and quite badly, if I say so myself. He probably has a few broken ribs and undoubtedly a broken arm. Miss Granger said that they fell from the sky," he regarded the trio with a curious glint in his eyes. "Is that true?"

The boys nodded.

Dumbledore's gaze was piercing, but he said nothing else on the matter. Instead, he turned to look at the dragon. "From the looks of it, I'd say that it has broken wings, but no more severe injuries."

"What will you do with them, Headmaster?" Snape's cold voice asked.

Hogwarts' Headmaster sighed. "The boy is strong. His aura is one of power. But no matter what, he is injured and he won't survive long without medical attention. We need to get him to Madam Pomfrey, and as soon as possible."

They all gasped and gaped and him, but it was Professor McGonall who actually answered him.

"Have you gone daft, Albus?" she practically screamed at him. "The boy is powerful, you said it yourself! He could be a Death Eater!"

"I highly doubt he is, Minerva," Dumbledore answered her, calm as ever. "His power feels good." He turned towards the trio. "I trust you can see him to Madam Pomfrey and hide him from unwanted eyes." His eyes held a knowing spark and Harry immediately understood. cCloak and Marauders' Map.

Dumbledore flicked his wand and stretchers appeared. The three lifted the boy on them and the stretchers flew towards Hogwarts on their own. Harry, Ron ad Hermione followed. Before they reached the edge of clearing, Harry turned around.

"Professor, what of the dragon? What will happen to it?" he asked.

"We will only restrain it until the boy awakens and he explains it to us, Harry. I suggest you do the same with the boy."

Harry nodded and again, they went through the dark forest. He threw the Invisibility Cloak, that he had with himself, over the boy, effectively hiding him. He then pulled out the Marauders' Map with Ron and Hermione peering over his shoulder.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

He checked where Umbridge was and found her in her cabinet. Most of the students were in the Great Hall, having dinner or already in their houses. He then looked at the three points that showed him and his friends and lastly at the point next to them. To their surprise there was no name above it.

"That's odd," said Ron. "It should've showed his name."

Harry, too, was confused, but Hermione took it upon herself to find some logic in it. "Maybe it is because he hasn't identified himself to Hogwarts yet."

"Perhaps," agreed her friends.

They arrived in infirmary ward fifteen minutes later. Madam Pomfrey looked at them oddly as they stumbled into the ambulance, their faces scratched and their clothes torn, not to mention the fact that they had stretchers with a bloodied and muddy boy on them. They explained it to her that they had found him at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, of course leaving out the fact that he had a dragon with them. Luckily for them, she didn't ask a lot and even bound him to his bed without complain. She then brought in a bowl of water and a washing cloth and pushed them into Hermione's arms, saying that "she could make herself useful". Hermione shrugged and started washing the grime off of the boy's face. Madam Pomfrey, however, got rid the boy of his tunic and vest to tend to any possible wounds.

"Good lord!" she gasped as she saw his injuries.

Harry and Ron, who were previously sitting on the chairs next to the bed sprang to their feet to look at the boy.

He had a lean and muscular body, pale as alabaster, but that was not it. Left side of his torso was covered in bruises that varied from purple to yellow color. Then, there was blood trickling down the chest of the boy, making Harry feeling a bit nauseous.

"What happened to him?" Hermione, that finished washing his face with a damp cloth and came to stand next to them, gasped.

Harry, not wishing to look at the boy's beaten torso looked at the now clean face of the stranger. He was young, a couple of years older than them presumably, not much older than the Weasley twins. He had strong jaw, dark eyebrows and slanted features that gave him unearthly beauty. His face wasn't peaceful, though. His slanted eyebrows met in a shape of letter V as he frowned in what seemed like pain.

"He must've fallen from great height that he hurt himself so," said Madam Pomfrey as she headed for her office to get some potions. "Oh, what haven't I seen in my years," she muttered tiredly to herself.

"And it seems like Harry is the center of her medical concerns," snickered Ron good-naturedly. Harry stuck out his tongue at him, while Hermione looked at both of them disapprovingly, though a small smile graced her features.

A few minutes later, Madam Pomfrey returned, two potions in her hands. She opened one of them, one colored emerald green, opened the stranger's mouth and let three drips of potions fall on his tongue. They instantly melted away.

"It will stop any inner bleedings he may have," explained Madam Pomfrey. She looked at the liquid in her other hand. "I'm afraid he has to drink this one that it'll actually work."

The three nodded and Harry voiced what all three were wondering. "What do we do now?"

"Now," sighed Madam Pomfrey. "we wait." And to their utter surprise, she didn't usher them out of the ambulance. She just turned around and left for her private rooms. "Call me when he awakes," she ordered them.

They sat down next to the stranger's bed and they waited. He was completely quiet in his sleep, almost as is he was aware of everything around him. He didn't wake up, though.

It was only almost two hours later they - or rather, Harry, for Ron and Hermione were soundly sleeping next to him - heard a groan from the boy. Harry rubbed his eyes and nudged his friends expectedly. And then he heard it - the breathing pattern of the stranger changed. It was faster and slightly hysterical. Harry smiled to himself.

The strange boy he and his friends found in the Forbidden Forest was awake.

Ugh...

I hate it! Everything seems just so rushed, bu I really doubt I can improve it if I try. Lately, the teachers've been raining tests on us, next week is like the third weeks since they've been doing it. And exchange students are coming the week after that (1.-5. June) so count out me updating that time. I'll try to update as soon as I can, though. Because I do intend to finish the story because I hate how people just abandon their fanfics. So, feel free to nudge me if I don't update soon enough.

Aaanyway, here are answers to your questions/reviews (Yay, I got reviews!):

Guest reviewer: I'm really glad you like my fanfiction and my name. And Arya will come up in this story in near future and at the end of this fic and maybe inbetween (it depends on how unlazy I'll be), 'cause I really like her.

Until next time...

EA4E.

P.S.: Thank you for all of your follows and favorites! I really appreciate it and I'm glad you like my story enough to follow it!