Me, Vurso, and Firethroat: *Raise an eyebrow at my new muse. *

Eric (an Umbreon): *Raises an eyebrow in return. *

Me: *Suddenly rushes forward and glomps him. * KAWAII!!

All three: *Sweatdrop. *

Firethroat: Anyways, we don't own Harry Potter.

Eric: *Turning blue under his fur. * Uh… little help?

Vurso: Eh, you get used to it.

Eric: *Gasping for air. *

Vurso: *Sighs as he prys me off of him. * Anyways, on with the fic.

*********************

Harry groaned as he slowly opened his eyes. Everything was bleary and seemed strangely out of focus. And everything was much too bright. With a small hiss of pain, he closed his eyes again. A migraine was slowly working its way from his temples to his forehead, but it was one of those that when it got there, it hit with enough force to knock over Hagrid.

What hit me? He thought to himself.

And for that matter, where am I? It's cramped in here. Very cramped, actually. He had a huge crick in his neck, he felt like his back would ache forever, and his tail was scrunched up right next to his front feet.

Wait… tail…?

Everyone in Voldemort's base jumped in surprise and a little fear at the bellow that came from the fourth floor dungeons.

***

Harry's eyes were wide open now, and he was anxiously looking himself over. Of course, it was impeded by the large, ebony snout that took up most of the bottom half of his vision. (Firethroat: Welcome to our world, Harry.)

Oh shit. He cursed mentally. There was no doubt as to what he was. The long, sinuous tail. The obsidan scales over most of his body, with emerald on his underside. The huge, leathery wings. The large fangs in his mouth. The razor sharp claws. The better senses. The long neck and slim body.

Harry Potter was a dragon.

He didn't recognize the species, though. Nowhere had he read of black dragons with green undersides. Either he was the only one of his kind, or his species of dragon was very rare.

Neither one was good. As a dragon, and because he was Harry Potter, he had little enough chance to get out of there as it was. If he were rare or one of a kind, chances of escape were practically nonexistent.

Another once over made Harry realize that he now also didn't have any clothes. Not surpsising, since they would have ripped when he grew to the size he was now. He wasn't too worried, though. His scales covered the essentials, but it felt weird to not have clothes on.

The lack of clothes led him to realize that he wasn't cold anymore. Apparently his scales acted as insulation. He was pretty warm.

Another feeling was starting to assert itself. Unfortunately, no human had ever discovered that dragons were very claustrophobic. And Harry was no different.

Need… out… too… cramped… Harry started thrashing about, the coils of his body striking against the stone walls.

Another thing about dragons that Harry discovered right then and there. They are much, much stronger than they look. And that's saying something.

Harry blinked as one of the walls crumbled under his assault. A slow grin found its way to his snout, and he suddenly rushed forward, slamming his shoulder into the next wall, and bursting through it.

Another thing about dragons. They were very fast. VERY fast. Harry had burst through ten walls in as many seconds before he reached the outside. Of course, being the lunkhead he was, he had gone the long way, all the way through the base, when right behind him had been an outside wall. What can I say, Harry isn't the brightest of people, and he felt a need to destroy things, anyways. Blame it on the dragon brain. (Vurso and Firethroat: HEY!)

Harry blinked and rubbed at his eyes with a forepaw. The sudden brightness of the sun hurt, especially to his now very sensitive eyes.

He felt a funny sensation, as if a Nerf ball were thrown hard at him and bounced off. He opened his eyes slightly, and peered from the tiny slits.

A bunch of Death Eaters were gathered around him, and all of them were hurling spells at him. The amusing part was that the spells kept rebounding and hitting the Death Eaters, and knocking them out. In fact, if he just stayed there, they probably would eventually just all knock themselves out.

Course, he didn't have that kind of time. With a large swipe of his tail, he knocked them all into a wall.

Now, time to see if these wings work. With that thought, Harry gathered his muscular hind legs under himself, and arched his back. With a might surge, he leapt into the air, and spread his wings.

He immediately found out that flying is definitely NOT as easy as it looks. (Vurso: We could have told him that.) Winds buffeted him, and he had to flap a lot to stay airborne over the water he found himself flying over. He looked back, and recognized Azkaban from pictures. So that's where I am…

Harry's wings were on fire (not literally, mind you) by the time he made it to land a couple miles away. He also learned that landings aren't as easy as they look, either, when he got a snoutful of dirt.

After spitting and sneezing most of it out, he slowly dragged himself to his feet. He folded his aching wings, which protested at any movement. Very loudly, in fact.

"Oh, shut up" Harry grumbled. "I'm too tired to listen to this crap."

The wings cowered at their owner's harsh words, and decided to keep shut. Much safer than trying to back-talk a pissed off dragon. (Firethroat: *Preens. * Me: Don't flatter yourself. Firethroat: *Pouts. *)

Harry slowly dragged himself forward, not even thinking about how he easily fell into the smooth, graceful amble of a dragon. It was getting him somewhere, so he didn't care.

He had apparently landed on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. (I don't know if Azkaban is near the Forbidden Forest, so I say it is. So there.) After walking for quite a few hours, the sun was starting to set. He had apparently been out for a while.

Finally feeling that he was far enough away to be somewhat safe, he tiredly coiled himself around a huge tree. Laying the tip of his tail over his nose, he tried to sleep.

Tired as he was, Harry just couldn't get to sleep. His thoughts drifted back to his friends.

They're all probably worried sick… He sighed sadly. Worst of all, I didn't even get it…

The reason that Harry had been captured was simple: Hermione was sick. Very sick. Snape had managed to mix up a potion that would cure her, but it was missing one very rare ingredient.

Gryphon's blood.

Harry, being the idiot that he is, decided to go into the Forbidden forest to find a gryphon and get some. At night.

Of course he got caught. I mean, he was practically asking for it.

And now he was stuck as a dragon, in the middle of the most dangerous forest on earth.

"Things can't get any worse…" He muttered, it coming out as a low growl.

And, of course, whenever you say those words, the Irony Gods always find a way to make it worse.

A crack of thunder, and the previously perfectly clear sky now suddenly was covered in dark clouds, and pouring down icy rain.

Harry groaned as he closed his eyes and slowly fell into a fitful sleep.

The lesson today, kids: Never, ever, EVER say "It can't get any worse." Because it always will.

*********************

Eric: What do you think? Good first day on the job?

Vurso: Uh…

Firethroat: *Growls. * HE DID A BETTER JOB THAN US!!!!

Me: AT LEAST HE ACTUALLY DID HIS JOB!!!

Firethroat: Uh… no comment.

Vurso: Anyways… please review… *Starts conspiring with Firethroat to get rid of Eric. *

Me: *Sighs and knocks them both out. * Don't worry. They'll just take a little time to get used to him.

Eric: *Sweatdrops. * Anyways… review, okay?

Me: Eric, we've gotta work on your style and presentation. *Drags him out of the room by the tail *

Eric: *Gulps. *