** Dimension Wander **
By Tvillinger
Chapter Five -- Returning... Home? Which home is home?
Lucky for Harry, Snape had no idea what happened. He was in as much shock as the rest of the class. For many a minute, the potions master stared in stunned silence, watching his precious fluids drip and drain away, halted to a stop as the last of his bottles balanced precariously on the edge and fell down, adding to the rubble. For many a minute, Snape gaped, expression of a fish.
Then, he attacked.
"WHO DID THIS?!" he roared, and the class collectively gulped and cowered as his rage came upon them. Well, not upon them. Upon one individual--the only individual in the class that seemed totally at ease. "POTTER!"
"I didn't do anything, sir," Harry replied with mock politeness.
Snape's eyes narrowed to tiny slits and his nostrils flared. Harry was certain foam was rising, ready to start lathering the professor's angrily twisted mouth. "DON'T LIE TO ME, POTTER!" he shouted, pouncing up the classroom to reach Harry's seat. "WHAT DID YOU DO?"
Again, Harry repeated his claim to innocence. "I think you should talk to Filch," he added with the same toned innocence. "Maybe there's an animal problem."
Snape took several heaving breaths, obviously trying to control himself, and his hands twitched as if they wanted nothing more than to ring Harry's neck. Harry pressed his lips together and dug his nails into his hands to keep from laughing out, to keep from letting his façade of innocence slip away. Of course, later that evening at dinner, his innocence would be contested by the fact that the little dragon would be sitting on his shoulder but whatever...
Snape leaned forward and spat out, "If I ever catch word that you did this, Potter, I'll take enough points away from your house that years won't bring them back." Then he glared one final death glare and stiffly stormed back to the front of the room to assess the damage, anger radiating off his like heat waves.
The bell rang and still fighting laughter, Harry tromped outside. As soon as he was free from the dungeons, he let out a whoop of laughter, the sound ringing down the halls. His classmates, all frozen and pale with fear, watched his with wide-eyed, fearful expressions.
He was still laughing, clutching at his sides, when the golden dragon flew down from a hidden perch and recklessly flung itself at him. It snapped out its happiness in low, growling tones.
"That was good, admit it," Harry pressed to his passing classmates. Most averted their eyes, shocked by the sudden change in the boy, and passed by. Some, however, cracked a smile full of awe.
"Y-you?" Ron asked, voice unsteady.
Harry shook his head and held out his arm for the dragon to catch onto.
"What's that, Harry?" Lavender asked, straying close to Harry to get a closer look at the dragon. The other Gryffindors repeated the same questioned. Hermione and Ron, standing beside him, jumped back when the dragon's wings bloomed out.
"It's my dragon," Harry answered, repeating the statement given earlier that day. Hermione watched Harry's happy face with a wary, calculating glance that belied her future questions about the real origin of the dragon--and its connections to what she had begun to suspect as a story Harry was hiding.
All of the fifth-year Gryffindors--particularly the ones who weren't too nice to Harry in the first two weeks of school--found that not only had Harry changed, breaking free of his depression, but he'd also forgotten their meanness in record speed. It was as though the first two weeks of school hadn't happened and he was willing to forget everything they'd said. The group of Gryffindors walked down to their next class with a cheerfulness that had been absent since the start of the term.
Defense against the Dark Arts was being taught by a woman this year, but when she had noticed Harry's strange quietness matched with his overwhelming ease with the Defense classes, she'd booted him up a level with the sixth-years, meaning that Harry (quite unfortunately) had to drop Divination. He parted ways with his friends and headed outside, bored to death of his free hour and trying to remember exactly what he used to do during this time.
"Ah," his breath hitched as he remembered. "That's right. I hid."
A group of Slytherins, the same that had tried to torment him the day before, led by that Monica girl, tromped down the halls but paused cautiously when he passed. He smiled and waved then kept going. His dragon, however, sensing the hate that was streaming from the Slytherins, raised its hackles and growled at them.
"Stop that," Harry chided, lightly tapping the dragon's head.
Footsteps echoed the halls, the rushing steps of late students or the trotting sounds of hurrying professors. Harry walked around silently, reaching the doors to go outside and left the castles and its echoes.
As soon as it scented the fresh air, the dragon took off with a whooping screech. It rose gracefully, effortlessly spiraling and diving and showing off flying skills, taunting Harry. Harry snorted then summoned his broom and took off after the dragon. But as he rose, a loud bark caught his attention.
Harry's head whipped around, bright green eyes searching with a maddening hurry. There! Coming up the path around the lake was a huge black dog, its tail wagging as it caught sight of Harry. Harry's mouth dropped open at the dirtiness of its coat, the haggard limp of its trot, and the missing vitality he had grown accustomed to, but there was no doubt as to who it was.
"Sirius!" Harry yelled with a great grin, dropping back to the ground and leaving his broom aside, running up to meet the dog. The sound of its name halted it somewhat, sharply reminded Harry that Sirius couldn't be addressed as such anymore. Vainly, he searched his mind for memories, tearing apart those of this dimension and those of the other, trying to separate two different memories of his godfather.
The dog limped up, still wagging its tail, and put its head into Harry's hand when they reached, sniffing wildly and tackling his godson. Harry laughed and pulled Sirius down with him, rolling over and over in the grass, memories of their wrestling bouncing in his brain--but those memories weren't of this Sirius, he reminded himself sharply. Laughing, Harry grabbed some grass and threw it into the great dog's eyes, making it sneeze in surprise and let up on its attack. Harry kicked to his feet and began to run, laughing and being chased down by a black blur at his feet.
High above, the golden dragon recognized the dog for what it was and sounded out a hello call.
Sirius froze and looked up. Harry looked up and mentally groaned. "Come here," he coaxed, rubbing his hands in the still-startling limp hair. "I've got to talk to you." The dog whined in concern but Harry smiled back and pressured his godfather along.
They walked back along the trail around the lake, skirting into the Forbidden Forest. Sirius barked out in alarm but Harry reassured him and pulled him along. In the other dimension, he had once been dared to spend the night in the forest and would've refused had not the whole of Slytherin been against him. During the night, however, a company of unicorns had awakened and played with him, sensing little beyond the childish body. They eventually led him to a grove of trees, a protective space the unicorns left their young, allowing him to sleep with them. Now, he hoped the same spot existed in this dimension and he led his doggish godfather along the familiar path towards the grove.
Sirius whined again, bumping against Harry's leg. The teen laughed and scratched Sirius' ears. "Don't worry," he repeated. "I've been here before."
The trail he pushed through the trees eventually broke and Harry let out a breath of wonder even as he recognized the area.
White, ice-like trees grew, setting a glow to the area as clean as the unicorn young that lay around, resting. Their ears twitched as Harry grew closer and one let out a shrill of alarm.
"Shh," Harry hushed, quickly stepping over and touching the unicorn in a reassuring measure. It stiffened and played dead under the embrace but eventually calmed and even opened its pearly gray eyes to take Harry's appearance in. Reassured by its calm, the other unicorn young bashfully stumbled over to Harry, sniffing him over with their nibbling lips that tickled. They trampled over to Sirius and did the same, obviously sensing a disruption in his smell.
"You can change back now, Sirius," Harry advised. "They won't be scared."
The dog warily watched the small horns beginning to grow out of the horse-like animals' foreheads but changed back. Where there had once been a dog, now a scraggy-looking man stayed. Harry drew in a deep, horrified breath and quickly looked away, unwilling to continue looking to the skin-and-bones image his godfather had been reduced to, horrified beyond words at the differences between the two men he knew under the same name.
Sirius was too awed to notice his godson's sudden start, gently lifting a hand to pet the unicorns, never having been so close to them. They neighed quietly, settling around the two humans with a comforting ease, sensing on Harry a faint but still visible touch where their kind had previously accepted him.
Sirius gulped and looked over to his godson, amazed beyond words. "H-how did you find this place, Harry?"
Harry mentally winced at the dragging dryness of his godfather's voice, a tone belying harsh difficulties. "Um, I, uh... stumbled... across it?" he offered hopefully, green eyes going up to Sirius' tempest-tossed face and trying to hide what he was feeling.
Sirius watched him oddly, clearly able to tell his godson was lying. "Stumbled across it?" he repeated. "As in, you just happened to be walking in the Forbidden Forests one day and saw this place?" Harry pressed his lips together as he saw the man's line of thought. "Well then, that's perfectly acceptable Harry--except for the fact that the Forbidden Forests are forbidden!"
Harry summoned up a weak smile and shrugged. "Well, it's a good things I found this place, huh? Who knows what might have happened?"
Sirius sucked in a deep breath, going pale. "What might have happened? By Merlin, Harry, don't you think things through? Do you have any idea what lives in here, how dangerous this place is? There could be a group of Death Eaters walking around, ready to stumble across you!"
Harry rolled his eyes but Sirius caught the motion and froze, instantly aware of how greatly Harry was suddenly acting like James--the expression on the teen's face was a mirror-image of James at the same age, caught in a similar situation as he was once caught sneaking out at night. The similarity blew away Sirius' mind.
Harry leaned back and absently stroked one unicorn's side, reveling in the way its lungs rose and fell beneath his fingers. "It's not like I'm trying to get killed, Sirius," Harry replied after a pause. "It's just that... things are never so bad that I can't have some fun, you know? I don't want to... to waste my life worrying about Voldemort when I could be playing with my friends or just lying down with some unicorns."
Sirius laughed at that and rolled to his side, looking at the group of unicorns gathered around them. "Not a lot of people can say they did this, can they?" Sirius asked, unable to keep angry when his best friend was shining through his godson.
Harry laughed with him and shook his head in amusement. "I guess not."
Sirius watched Harry and let out a deep sigh, shaking his head. "I don't know Harry," he said, voice painfully honest. "I don't know if anything will ever be easy for you. I know you want to have fun, but you're not a normal kid."
"Don't," Harry whispered.
"You're special," Sirius went on. "And everyone know that. Some people will love you for it, some people will hate you for it. But you can't escape it. I know you like playing with your friends, but I'm afraid this war's going to force you to grow up." He let out a trembling breath. "Soon, you and everyone you know are going to be called to chose a side and fight for it." He looked into his godson's green eyes and finished sadly. "When that happens, everything's going to change."
They lay in silence for a time, the only sounds the sound of a unicorn shifting, a leaf falling, and the winds gently playing the trees.
As Harry's fingers curled in the unicorn's mane, a sliver of sound interrupted the silence. Wings beat against the air and savagely tore through the trees as a deep-throated call familiarly called Harry to attention. The teen groaned and sat up, disturbing the unicorn's slumber and it neighed unhappily.
"What's that?" Sirius asked, getting up as well. His question was answered when, a moment later, a golden shimmer held the air trapped, the dragon squawking irately and settling down on one of the pearly-white trees, gold clashing with the silvery glow.
Sirius nearly jumped to his feet in alarm but Harry chuckled. "That," he pointed, "is my dragon." Being mention, the dragon took to flight again, spiraling down to dive against Harry. The unicorns got to their feet and neighed with annoyance but were ignored as the dragon stopped short of Harry and clutched to his arm, tail wrapping around it.
"You're... dragon?"
Harry nodded and held out his arm. "Here, you want to hold it?" Sirius took a half step back with the dragon opened its mouth in a lazy yawn, revealing gleaming fangs. "Don't worry, it already knows you."
Suspicious, Sirius reached out and the dragon obediently crawled across to cling onto Sirius' skin. Harry rolled his eyes and got to his feet. "It's not fair," he voiced with playful anger. "He listens to you but not to me."
"What?" Baffled, Sirius watched as the dragon continued crawling, settling on a perch next to his head. "Where did you get it?"
"Uh," Harry smiled brightly and shrugged, raising one of Sirius' eyebrows. "A secret?"
"Harry?" Sirius growled warningly but Harry merely laughed and stretched. The laughter brought to Sirius' attention a great change that he hadn't paid attention to: Harry wasn't sad or withdrawn anymore. He'd have noticed sooner, but generally Harry was always happy whenever his godfather was around. The only difference Sirius had noticed in the past two weeks was that people complained to Sirius of Harry's depression. And Harry hadn't laughed since school started.
The dragon purred against his neck. "How's Remus?" Harry asked, stretching his arms up and stifling a yawn.
And Sirius was touched by the hugeness of Harry's heart. He'd only known the boy for the lesser part of two years, yet Harry never acted like the time spent apart dampened the friendship between godfather and godson; he instead acted like Sirius had always been there, like Sirius was someone he immediately trusted. And that trust was more than he deserved. "R-Remus?" Sirius choked out when Harry eyed him with concern. "H-he's fine."
Harry smiled wickedly, looking exactly like James. "Is he still hanging out with Veronica?"
The question jarred Sirius. His brows drew up in confusion. "Hanging out with who?" And the question had a profound effect on his godson.
Harry froze and his eyes blinked. "Veronica," he repeated. "The girl he's been... dating..." His green eyes clouded up and he looked around like he was lost before being jerked back to reality by a throaty growl from the dragon. He smiled again but looked strained. "I, uh, never mind. I had this weird dream and must have confused it or something."
Sirius' face blanked out in astonishment. "You had a dream?" he pressed. Dumbledore had said something about Harry and dreams.
Harry mentally winced again and inhaled deeply before sending the air back out. He looked up and jumped in surprise. "Oh no, what time is it?"
"Harry, what about that dream?" Sirius frowned but Harry was saying goodbye to the frolicking unicorns.
"I have class now!" he busted out. The dragon unattached itself and flew behind Harry as the teen took off running. "I'll talk to you later, Sirius," he called out, waving a hand absently.
"Oh no you don't," Sirius muttered, quickly transforming to a dog and taking after his godson.
Harry breathed hard but not because he was exerted. The realization his him exactly what had happened. He'd confused the two dimensions. What if it happened again! During class-
The thought hit him like a brick wall and he stumbled briefly before catching himself, understanding now the depths of a fact that had occurred to him during potions: he already knew all the things being taught at Hogwarts! What would the professors think, if he suddenly held a knowledge of every lesson, every note? Swallowing, his mind raced to find a solution to the problem before something happened.
He ran up the path and paused to grab his broom but a cry from his dragon alerted him to a presence just before he was knocked over. "Sirius!" he neatly shouted. "Get off! I'm already late!" But the great black dog showed no signs of letting up as it started to drag him towards the castle. Annoyed, Harry crossed his arms over his chest and let the beast drag him, silently plotting revenge for bitten robes and grass-stained jeans.
*
"Where in the world is Mr. Potter?" McGonagall fussed, glancing once again to the classroom clock. The rest of her students, angelically on time, fidgeted in their seats, whispering quiet conversations that they believed she didn't hear. "Mr. Weasley, I told you once to keep quiet," she scolded angrily, whipping her gaze back to the class. Ron, caught leaning out of his chair to whisper to Dean, blushed red to the tips and scooted back into his seat to the hushed giggles of the rest.
Annoyance crept onto her face and she rolled her eyes skyward. "Well then, we'll just have to start without him-"
"There he is, professor! One girl screeched from her seat by the window. Her eyes were wide with panic and she began to scream. Of course, the rest of the class hastened over to join her and everyone felt a wave of panic, save for the two who felt more than a wave. At the sight of Sirius, dragging an irritated Harry around by the literal scruff of his collar, Ron and Hermione shared a look and bolted for the door.
McGonagall didn't even see them, too shocked by the sight of a massive black dog apparently attacking one of her students. One girl cried out, "The Grim! The Grim's come to take away his soul!" and the class disrupted into madness.
"Quiet down, quiet down!" the professor hollered but her cries went unheard. She frowned and drew out her wand with a bang that sent everyone ducking for cover. "Get back to your seats, all of you!"
The girl by the window looked around and screamed again, pointing to two empty seats. "It's got Ron and Hermione!" she screamed, shaking and white as a ghost. "It's going after Harry, and taking his friends with him!"
McGonagall snorted. "Nonsense, they probably ran out." Her lips pinched together as she thought up a punishment for such behavior. "Stay in your seats, all of you!" She strode over to her fire and called out, "Professor Vector, can you come here?"
After a moment, the dusty professor pushed her way through the fireplace and blinked. McGonagall pointed. "Watch them!" And then she ran out of the room.
Professor Vector blinked again, a look of confusion on her face. When she turned and asked the class what happened, the answers she picked out indicated that a huge Grim had taken Harry Potter out of the castle kicking and screaming, probably to eat the poor boy, and to make matters worse Potter's two best friends had disappeared as well.
"Well," she bit her lip, "I'm sure Professor McGonagall will take care of it." The class watched her stupidly and she sighed. "While you're here, why don't I try and teach you something." She waved her wand and conjured up a parchment on each desk with a smile. "Who can tell me about numbers?"
*
"Harry!" Hermione shouted, running around and trying to locate the lost friend. "Harry!"
"Where was he heading?" Ron questioned, running beside her. Hermione shrugged helplessly and Ron bit back a curse. "If anyone finds Snuffles..." They both gulped and wondered what was so important that Sirius jeopardized his very life, coming into the castle for.
A scuffling sound presently reached their ears, along with an angry argument:
"No, I'm not going to tell you the password! I don't even know it this year!"
*Growl*
"Don't look at me like that. Besides, I'm supposed to be in class right now, remember?"
*Squawk*
*Growl*
*Squawk*
Annoyed sigh. "Don't you go joining him, too."
Ron and Hermione crashed around a corner to see Harry, arms still folded at his chest, glaring defiantly at the floor but his glare was off, as though he was too busy thinking to glare properly. Picking at his shoulder was the weird dragon and, crouched before Harry in a menacing pose that even sent them into pause was the huge black dog, one paw on Harry's chest. They breathed a sigh of relief and hurried towards the rankled teen sitting before a gargoyle statue.
Harry looked up at the sound of their steps and smiled, rolling his eyes and pointing to Sirius. "Can you believe him? Stealing me right out of class! I can't wait to think up an excuse to give McGonagall when she comes around-"
"That won't be necessary, Mr. Potter." The students whirled to see their professor, huffing slightly with her hair in disarray, pointing a wand straight towards Sirius. "Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, step out of the way."
"But-"
"Step out of the way!" Hermione and Ron meekly complied, leaving Sirius vulnerable to attack.
"Wait, you don't understand," Harry protested but McGonagall's wand was poised and he knew she'd attack Sirius within seconds.
But she didn't.
McGonagall looked up in stark surprise to see the funny little dragon from this morning flying above her, wand clutched in its talons. Harry heaved and shoved Sirius off, getting up and wiping the dust from his robes, frowning with exasperation at the grass stains he knew would be there. He turned on Sirius. "Bad dog! Look what you did!" He held out his stained robed and shook them before the black dog. "Now I'll have to go buy new ones."
But beneath his scolding was a tone of amusement the dog caught onto and its tail began to wag.
"See, professor," Harry explained to the frozen woman. "This is actually my dog. Uh, Re-Professor Lupin sent it to me." He smiled charmingly, knowing all the ways to get around her anger. "As a protection."
"Protection?" McGonagall grabbed at the wand the dragon lowered to her. "From what, class?"
Harry chuckled nervously, pulling at his shirt. "Uh... yea?"
McGonagall snorted but all sense of tension drained. Ron and Hermione, chilled to see their professor so ready to attack, relaxed and Hermione's mind worked at the speed of light, adding new information to a critically forming understanding of Harry's change. "You already have a pet, Harry--two, in fact. And a dog that size will cause a panic among the students. You can take it to the headmaster but he won't let you-"
The gargoyle suddenly leaped away and Harry, who had been unconsciously leaning onto the wall, fell to the floor with an "oof!'
Professor Dumbledore certainly looked surprise to find Harry crumpled at his feet. He stepped back and Harry groggily got up. The dog barked and Harry playfully smacked its snout. "Don't laugh at me."
Blinking, the headmaster took in the situation and then cleared his throat. "Harry, why don't you come up to my office? Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, you're welcome to join us."
McGonagall shook her head but announced that she had a class to teach and walked off, but her departure didn't help the tension that rose when Dumbledore watched Sirius climb with a disapproving eye.
Once the group was settled and had properly refused any offered sweets, Dumbledore looked over to the dog that sat, limp on the floor. "Sirius, why don't you join us?" Unwillingly, the animagus resumed his human shape. Dumbledore noted the tense expression on Harry's face at the sight of his godfather with some puzzlement but filed the fact away for later use. "Now, why don't you tell me what's happened?" Fawkes, sitting in the corner, opened his eyes and watched them before dismissing the group and slipping back to sleep.
Harry looked up with a faint smile at the twinkle in his headmaster's eyes. "Sir, it's all Sirius' fault."
The blank accusation stopped everyone in the room and Harry smothered a fit of laughter. Mockingly angry, he pointed an accusing finger towards the apprehensive godfather. "He tackled me down to the ground and stained my pants." To the silence that met his statement, Harry pulled out his leg and pointed to the glaring green on the bottom of his jeans. "See?"
"I... see," Dumbledore's face looked as puzzled as the rest but then he caught the hint of amusement in Harry's brilliant green eyes and smiled on, catching the joke. "Sirius, what do you have to say for yourself?"
The animagus blinked and his head slightly drew back as everyone turned to look at him. "Sorry?"
Harry's face lit into a smile then, and Sirius breathed out a sigh of relief, reminding Harry yet again that this godfather was not the carefree, jokingly mad one he'd become accustomed to. Feeling guilty, Harry quickly related the hour's events, slightly twisting the story and completely avoiding all mention of the forest. Sirius raised and eyebrow and Dumbledore caught the expression.
"So," the wizened old wizard sat back in his seat. "You spent some time flying, then spent the rest of the time talking with Sirius?" Harry nodded eagerly. Above him, in lazy, distracting circles, the golden dragon croaked out a bit of laughter that only Harry recognized. It was going about, sniffing and examining the office, clawed hands clicking against the desk when it has walked along to examine Dumbledore. When he reached Fawkes, the phoenix woke again and eyed the strange lizard cautiously, snapping its beak when the dragon came too close. Gold and red sparked and the dragon leaped away. No one else gave thought to the occurrence.
The headmaster gave Harry a thoughtful expression, eyes casting back and forth between godfather and godson, knowing that the story rang false but trusting Sirius to break his silence if something important needed to be revealed. Apparently, Harry knew exactly what his headmaster was thinking because he smiled cheekily with an attitude positively spinning against his former disposition.
"Why was Sirius dragging you?" Hermione asked, intelligence flashing in her eyes as she also beheld the truth that Harry was deliberately hiding something. The information hurt and she hid that hurt behind a wall of ignorance. If he didn't want to tell her anything, she wouldn't bully him--at least not in other's presence. She'd get him alone and when she did...
Harry raised an eyebrow and looked to his godfather. "I don't know."
"Yes you do," Sirius countered in a parental manner. He turned to Dumbledore. "Harry's had a dream-"
Dumbledore's attention was hooked and Harry desperately tried to amend the situation, not wanting anyone else to know. His promise to the other Dumbledore forgotten, Harry only knew that if his secret was discovered, the two adults in this room would prohibit any more dimension hops.
"Harry?" Dumbledore asked for an explanation through his eyes, burning bright blue.
Harry swallowed and attempted a shaky smile. "It wasn't really anything," he answered meekly. "Just a normal dream." Sirius' words unknowingly came back to haunt him: You're not normal, Harry. "It was actually really weird," he added when he saw Dumbledore unsatisfied. "Remus had a girlfriend named Veronica and Sirius had a dog exactly like him, so he didn't have to change anymore."
"Nothing else?"
"Not that I can remember," Harry answered evenly, though his conscience burned to lie to the wizard before him. Sensing his distress, his dragon curled back from his explorations of the room so similar to the one in a different dimension, returning to the teen. It snaked its tail around Harry's neck for balance as it sat on Harry's shoulders, taking a defensive stance against the rest of the room.
Out of everyone, only Ron easily accepted Harry's claim to ignorance, easily accepted Harry's change. He was the only one who didn't question--not because he felt none of the suspicions the others had. As the redhead sat, watching his best friend face down Dumbledore as though Harry was being formally tried and tested, Ron squished down the suspicions that had already troubled his heart. He knew there had to be a reason Harry suddenly changed, a reason why Harry had become so radically different, but if Harry didn't want to talk about it, Ron wasn't going to force him.
It was because the redhead sensed something the others all sensed: Harry would soon be pushed to difficult times, and instead of questioning the past and supposedly future savior, Ron decided to put his full trust in Harry and let things be, decided to be firm in his friendship.
He watched, checking Hermione's face and reading it like the books she adored: she suspected something was up, like everyone else did, and she was determined to discover exactly what that was. Sirius was bewildered but not completely affected by the change in Harry, and Dumbledore was as unreadable as ever. Settling deeper into his chair, Ron silently let out a deep breath and watched his best friend, hoping his trust would be enough to see Harry through.
Dumbledore placed his hands on his chin, an utterly blank expression on his face. "Very well, Harry," he allowed. Harry fidgeted. "However, if you do dream a dream of importance, you will come to me, yes?" The question was more a statement of fact and Harry tipped his head very slightly in agreement. "Now, I'm going to have to ask that you keep your dog," a twinkle of amusement brightened his face, "out of the range of students. I'll be able to convince the staff that Snuffles is trained and obedient."
He sighed and looked to Sirius. "If news gets out that Harry Potter suddenly has a black dog, a certain person will know exactly where that dog came from."
"Peter." Sirius' face darkened and twitched, fearful to look upon as his hate manifested itself. Dumbledore, however, didn't look to the adult; he looked to the again startled Harry.
Harry had gone very pale at the mention of the traitor. Inside his mind, he was experiencing the whiplash of again mixing two different dimensions. For what had seemed like the last eight years to him, Peter Pettigrew lie dead, having been killed several months after Voldemort's by Death Eaters who thought the rat responsible for the Dark Lord's downfall. Harry needn't ever had worried about him, just as he was never frightened about Sirius getting captured by Hit Wizards or Remus going without food or money. In that other dimension, Harry had lived without any worries.
Now, returned to this dimension, those worries slapped him upside the head in a continuous beating. First, he had been forced to remember the stark viciousness of the other students--even those he had once called friends. He had also been torn apart from his familiar, as Hermione had correctly named it, but both those problems had been easily solved.
It was the problems he couldn't easily solve that now hurt: Sirius' constant danger of capture and exposure, constant danger of death looming every second the animagus strayed from his safety to visit Harry. The fear that out there, his dad's friend and now his own friend was forced to face the struggle of survival alone, isolated by the fact that his blood labeled him a monster. Even the far off future showed trouble as he thought of the end of summer, of returning to careless and mean relatives who would rather his disappearance occur than have him return.
But of course, those personal problems (for that's what he considered them) were nothing compared to the worries he was faced with, worries that consumed the entire nation. The rebirth of a Dark Lord so vicious that years after his downfall, people refused to call him by his name, a rebirth that, with the blank denial of the ministry, could prove more disastrous than Voldemort's first rise to power. The disbelief of a community when warned, seeing only emptiness as they closed their eyes to the destruction about to befall them.
The mention of Peter's name brought back a thrashing of memories, all dark and unpleasant, memories and facts and suddenly, Sirius' conversation in the woods struck him hard. Harry swallowed as he completely realized that because his mother had sacrificed her life for his own, the wizarding world would expect him to once again cause the downfall of a dark tyrant. Once the full threat of Voldemort's rebirth came to public light, Harry could and would expect to become the focus of attention again, the object of pleas for mercy, pleas for help.
Harry closed his eyes painfully and let his mind whirl at the possibilities and with a sudden longing, he wanted to go back to his peaceful dimension where Sirius was free and Remus a big brother; where Voldemort was still less than a spirit, and was promised to stay that way; where he didn't need to bother with the turning of the world because he was still too young to the public eye; and where he could hide away from the madness that affected this dimension. Cowardly though it was, Harry wanted out.
"Harry?" Dumbledore's softly spoken voice caught the attention of the room and directed it to the now shaking teenager as he sat with clenched fists and closed eyes. Harry looked up and his eyes glistened, painful to look into, reflecting a world of unwanted comprehension. Dumbledore himself was momentarily taken back.
His dragon let out a mournful sigh and tightened its tail-hold on Harry's neck, just within the measure of choking. Curled around Harry's neck, the dragon dropped its defensive stance and curled on top of Harry, head dropping down onto one arm while legs hung down over his chest and back.
Harry forced a smile, bright as all his others and pushed the thoughts from his head. Later, he promised himself, thinking of where Neville would be and how willingly the boy would be to giving Harry the list and recipe for the failed potion. He could almost see himself: in less than an hour's time, Harry would have made the potion and be gone, off to visit his healthy godfather and to see his friends--friends that had never tormented him, that had, while sometimes unwillingly, accepted him. He would go back to being a child-teen with no responsibilities aside from having fun and enjoying himself.
"I'm all right," he heard himself reply, half of his mind planning out while the other half forced itself to stay attentive and veil-like over his true intentions. "Just a little tired."
"It is getting late," Dumbledore conceded. "You'll have missed the rest of your class and the better part of dinner by now." Ron groaned. "But I expect none of you to go hungry. A certain house elf is very concerned about you, Harry, and I fear he's taken up the belief that you no longer wish to be friends."
"Dobby?" Harry shot out, blinking in astonishment.
"Of course it's Dobby," Ron smiled at the thought of the feast that awaited him. "Or do you have other house elf friends we don't know about?"
"So, Sirius can't stay?" Harry asked sharply. "If Wormtail finds out, Voldemort will know. And if that happens, they might decide to just tell the Ministry."
"I think Sirius' present spot is safe enough," Dumbledore answered calmly. "However, you can't meet at the school anymore. Today's incident is proof enough. I think the students will be frightened to their wits, and I'm sure several parents will owl me later on, once they find out, about the school's safeties."
Harry nodded in understanding and stuffily got up to hug his godfather before leaving, feeling an odd sense of displacement. Would Sirius miss him, Harry wondered. Was it really fair to leave this Sirius, when he needed Harry so much at the moment? And what, a thought struck his mind, would the other Dumbledore say when he found out Harry had left, had so thoroughly abandoned his responsibilities to let the world alone to its own devices, without permission?
Time for that later, Harry convinced himself as his friends strayed to his side and filled the silence with teen chatter without noticing Harry's displaced responses. They headed towards the kitchens to grab some dinner and then, Harry would leave under false pretenses to find Neville. When he disappeared again, only Ginny had the slightest chance of knowing where he went. The dragon above him gleamed golden with energy, feeling its master's wish and chained to it as well.
*
The door shut, leaving Sirius and Dumbledore alone. Sirius collapsed completely onto the chair and, to Dumbledore's astonishment, started laughing. Deep belly laughs, laughs that sounded and filled the entire room, that shook the very chair the animagus sat upon. It took several moments for Sirius to calm down and even then, a bright smile remained on his lips, lips that had seen too few smiles.
Dumbledore calmly took a sip of his tea. "Did Harry slip you some Pepper-Up Potion?" he asked after a brief but comfortable silence.
That sent Sirius off again; minutes later, Sirius wiped away tears of mirth from his eyes but choked out, "No, but it was Harry."
"Hmm." Dumbledore nodded in slow understanding. "Something happened today, then, that he forgot to mention?"
Sirius, still beaming, leaned back against his chair again and roguishly threw his legs up on the other chairs. "He didn't spend nearly as much time flying as he said he did," Sirius answered honestly. "But... we spent awhile wrestling." The smile brightened and Sirius' eyes glazed over. "I always imagined wrestling with him, you know? Had planned it out since he was a baby. But then..."
Dumbledore said nothing, wisely remaining quiet while Sirius sorted out his thoughts again. "Wrestling?" the old man repeated, bringing Sirius back to the day's golden spot. Sirius nodded. "That is a thing I need to talk to you about."
Sensing the tone of seriousness, Sirius straightened up and put his legs back on the ground.
"For the past two weeks, you've been informed that Harry had fallen into a depression, and that in his state his classmates took advantage of him and tormented him in every way possible, using every emotional opening they could. Draco Malfoy was particularly vicious, the ringleader of the entire thing."
Sirius' fists clenched. "His father taught him well," he spat out angrily.
Dumbledore nodded, not verbally confirming or denying what was known fact. "And you know that, for the most part, Harry stayed passive, but only because he didn't care anymore. He felt that he deserved it. For that reason, you came. But now, as everyone can see, something has happened." He took another sip of his tea and motioned another cup to Sirius, who accepted the offering.
"Is it really a bad thing?" Sirius asked. "I mean, whatever happened, it's helped him get better-"
"Better and stronger," Dumbledore restated firmly. "Yesterday, Harry was sent to the hospital wing after an incident during Potions where he disappeared for several minutes before coming back."
"What?" Sirius exploded, nearly upsetting his cup of tea but succeeding in upsetting the wallowing phoenix. Fawkes turned a baleful eye towards Sirius but went ignored.
Calmly, as though the outbreak never occurred, Dumbledore went on. "Naturally, we were upset but discovered no means of Dark Art in the castle, no chink in the armor so to speak. Whatever happened was the sole result of a badly mixed potion."
"Slimy git probably set Harry up," Sirius growled, showing his dog attributes.
But Dumbledore denied any guilt. "Severus was as surprised as any," he contradicted. "He holds no guilt, and the accident truly was an accident."
Sirius wasn't convinced. His face darkened in hate, but he remained without verbal objections.
"The true matter of the disappearance is this: while he remained in the hospital wing, Poppy discovered an increase in Harry's already substantial powers, placing him to the level of Enchanter in the System of Wizardry. Had his powers increased more even the slightest, he would be boosted yet again, this time to the title of High Enchanter."
Sirius paled. "But, he's only a kid-"
"And any magical increase is unheard of," Dumbledore cut off. "Poppy informed me of this before: a wizard is born with a set amount of power and cannot, under any circumstances, naturally increase that power. Something happened while he was gone to unnaturally increase Harry's power, and that happening frightens me. What if he disappears again?"
Sirius leaned forward and leaned his head into his hands. "I don't know anything about this," he finally murmured. "But I'll do anything I can."
"I need you to find out where Harry went," came the desperate reply as even the headmaster of the school, Sorcerer in rank, admitted both ignorance and helplessness to the situation.
*
Paper crinkled in his hands, Harry sneaked about the potions classroom, wishing his dragon hadn't knocked everything over earlier that day. Sensing his thoughts, the golden dragon croaked in denial, rightfully setting the blame back on his shoulders.
He snorted. "Oh yeah?" The dragon, sitting on Snape's desk, flicked its tail insolently. "I have a good mind to just send you to Snape." The threat rang empty in both set of ears and the dragon tried a grin, showing off its gleaming fangs.
Harry shook his head, undaunted by the mouthed threat, and again consulted the paper in his hands. On one side, Neville's neat scrawl labeled out the necessary ingredients as well as the design to place the potion in order. On the other, Dumbledore's copied handwriting listed out the potion's counter, another potion designed to return Harry back to his original dimension, should anything go back. He studied the two lists carefully, committing both to memory because he knew from fact that nothing could be carried over during a dimension hop. The only way he got Dumbledore's list is because he used a memory spell to recreate the words, a spell that carried more than a bit of its fair share of dark magic.
His Slytherin friends had taught it to him. They'd be so proud.
Snape had done a wonderful job of cleaning up--of course, he probably just had the elves clean up the dungeon classroom for him. Harry could almost picture it: the potion master standing on the backs of crying elves, demanding that they clean faster. He shook the image from his head and set about again, brushing through the shelves for his ingredients.
Placing them down on a table, Harry pulled out his cauldron and tapped it, bringing the thumbnail-sized thing back to its normal proportions. Then he set to work.
*
"Hey, has anyone seen Harry?" Ron called out over the dull roar of chatter in the common rooms. Heads turned, some with disgust, others with apathy, but a limited few with concern. "We can't find him."
"Good riddance," someone snorted and was several times backed up with similar comments.
Ron's anger flared. He stepped up to the guilty person and viciously shoved him, sending him slamming against the wall. The room froze as the fight started. The person, a seventh year by the name of Allen Kirson, swore and jumped to his feet, never one to back down a challenge.
He swung a fist and then another as Ron dodged.
"Stop it!" Hermione shouted but she was ignored.
Ron leaped forward and tackled the teen, leaving them both grunting on the floor as a circle of onlookers gathered around them.
Allen snarled and reached into his pocket, whipping out his wand as Ron did the same. One shouted out the spell for a confounding charm; the other countered the first and backlashed with a stunning spell. Shouts were shouted, threats were rung, and by the time Ginny entered the room, both were exhausted but unwilling to give up. On Ron's side: the fifth years who'd had their opinions changed during the brief time since the change in Harry, as well as the Quidditch team and several others who knew better. On Allen's side: the rest of the Gryffindor body, all mad and raging, struck beyond relief by the Slytherin comments, the Hufflepuff betrayal, and the cool Ravenclaw logic.
The common room raged a mess as chairs overturned, struck by magical recoil that kicked back from countered spells and stopped charms. The noise was deafeningly quiet, save for the heavy breathing of the tow contestants and their vicious spells sent towards each other, all thoughts of past unity forgotten as both were pushed beyond their limits, their loyalties pressed too far.
Ron shouted out another spell but it quickly became apparent that, for every spell the fifth year knew, the seventh year Allen knew two more plus the counter. Ron had only stayed on so long because of his sheer courage and magical strength, strength unknowingly greater than Allen's.
His spell was countered and another was sent his way. So far, the duel had turned out only spells that gave temporary harm, spells meant to stun or stop. But now, Allen's words sparked a fire in Ron's very clothing.
He shouted in plain alarm and his shout was met by one of Hermione's.
The fire caught onto the students' faces, flames playing evil shadows on the skin. Allen looked defiantly on, not showing the slightest care for the death his spell could assign but others behind him let out startled screams.
Hermione's quick actions prevented disaster; met by stupidity on either side, she struck out alone and praised her own intelligence as a counter rose in her brain. Her lips moved and the flames were extinguished before any harm beyond smell and slight char could be done.
With her actions, a hushed silence fell over as full reality smacked each student, pointing out how quickly they moved to violence. Allen swallowed and those behind him took a collective step back, eyeing him with fear.
"Idiots!" Hermione's voice rang true over the silence, the only one brave enough to face down the formerly-madly enraged Gryffindors. Her hand struck out accusingly towards Allen. "Do you know what you could have done?"
"There was no harm done-"
"No harm?" she repeated, eyes flaring up in righteous anger. She gestured to the common room and the extent of the damage became apparent. "No harm?" Her tone took a derisive tone and the years winced at the sheer anger the little witch held. "What would you consider harm? Hurt? Terrible pain? Death?"
She took a shaky, unbelieving breath as she looked around the room, her disbelief reflected in her unsteady hand and her shaking body and it became apparent just how close to the edge the duel had become. "Someone could have died," she whispered, aghast. "Would that have stopped you?"
Allen tried to snort, tried to wave the actions as child play, but the anger in her eyes stopped him short and guilt rang off him in waves.
"We're not Slytherins," someone tried but Hermione turned on that person quick as a whip.
"Oh no?" she challenged. "What makes us so different, if we duel in our common room and fight with fire against those younger than us?" She turned her burning eyes back to Allen. "Someone could have died," she repeated, "and it would have been all your fault."
Ginny stood, having taken no step beyond her initial entrance into the common room, and quivered with the same fear that now swept Gryffindor courage away in the face of near-death. Ron also stood, smoke rising from his singed garments, staring at Hermione as a single phrase repeated itself in his head: "I could've died."
"I'm going for the headmaster," Hermione breathed out, voice still shaking. Allen's eyes widened but the little witch already spun around, nearly barreling Ginny over. Ron stayed for only a second before he caught his senses and shot off after her, leaving smoke hanging in the air, the smell as thick as the taste of death.
Swaying at her feet, Ginny turned to watch her brother run with a mute sense of incredulity. "Gryffindors aren't like this," she muttered to herself, shivering. Turning, she walked towards her older brothers and quietly asked what had happened.
Fred shook his head, mouth gaping open, no thought for jokes as his mind replayed Ron's burning over and over. George wearily brought her up to speed, and all three Weasleys ignited with anger against the room as the fact came to notice: their brother had nearly died.
"I'm going to find Harry," Ginny announced, not loudly but her voice carried over the creepy silence. "He'll know what to do."
And he would, each mind assured itself. He was Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, and he was destined to set the world right.
*
"There." Harry eyed the smoking concoction with unease. "Now, I'll be able to go back." The smoke promised otherwise.
His dragon scrapped its talons along the desk, not caring that Snape would have a heart attack at the deep gorges in the morning.
Harry's skepticism rose. "Or maybe I'll be poisoned and die."
Tired now, the dragon walked up towards the newly restored ingredient-cabinet and, with all the grace of a bull, snapped its tail out. The tail snagged a bottle.
*Crash.*
Harry whirled around as the bottle's liquid began to ooze out. "Hey!"
Instead of the usual 'Who? Me?' look the dragon always gave to prove its innocence, it now looked to Harry as if to say, 'Yea, that was me. Give me a second and I'll do it again.'
"Stupid dragon," Harry muttered. It heard him and bared its teeth, growling. "What?" He held his arms out. "You think you can hurt me?" Its growl proved it could. "Right." Turning back, Harry continued eyeing the concoction with mistrust. "Maybe I'll think I'm poisoned, but I'll really go back."
Another crash sounded. Irritated, Harry spun back. "Knock that off," he barked, but the instant the words came out of his mind, the dragon toppled the entire cupboard.
Right onto Harry.
He screamed and jumped back, narrowly avoiding a good smack between the eyes that would've given him more than a scar to contend with. Glasses smashed, potions bashed, and the whole scene unknowingly took beat with the fight going on in the Gryffindor common room. Some potions mixed and burbled before catching on fire; other boiled than turned to ice. Several all gathered in an odd little dip in the dungeon floor, turning an oozy puke color.
Harry swore. "Now look what you've done!" He swore again.
The dragon chirped happily, having lost all boredom, and merrily landed on Harry's shoulder. Angrily, he shoved it back into the air where it spiraled before coming back, hissing and landing on Harry's head, tail whipping about and wings lowered to blind.
Harry's hand came up and beat at the golden thing but it hissed and its tail swatted down any attempts. Neither caused the other pain; this was nothing more than a well-rehearsed, well-enjoyed game between the two: who gave up first.
Footsteps down the hall caused both halt and Harry scrambled, game forgotten, for the Invisibility Cloak lying dropped casually over a desk. He scuttled and his dragon was whipped off his head, squished against his chest and beneath the curves of the cloak, beside the smoking concoction mixed well in the other hand. With a word, all light was driven out.
Eventually, the feet stopped before the door and the classroom was opened, but with a caution that spoke of an invading student. Lightly, the person stepped into the room and gave light to candles doused just moments before by Harry. Any professor would have noticed and suspected the speed at which the candles lit, but this student noticed no such disturbance.
Carefully, Harry picked his way over the broken jars and towards the door, not even stopping to see what student was stopped here. Further down the corridor, he could here more steps and these he recognized immediately. Given to sneaking about the castle at night, Harry had memorized each professor's footsteps out a wise paranoia. For certain teachers, like McGonagall and Trelawney, he only needed to hit the right buttons and his punishment would be forgotten. But others would take distinct pleasure out of capturing Harry out doing the prohibited.
One of those teachers, in fact the very professor heading this way, was Snape.
Probably disturbed by the loud crash of his bottles (for a second time that day, Harry noted with an undeniable smirk) Snape was almost running to his precious classroom and would be there momentarily. Whatever poor soul was caught here would probably experience those tortures Filch so missed.
The student gasped as she found the damage left behind by Harry's dragon and he took the opportunity to run out unnoticed, slipping down the halls and pausing to let Snape sweep by before running on. He fumbled, letting his dragon sour out and slipping his potion into his pocket, withdrawing his map at the same time. A quick glance showed that no one was around, but there was a disturbing meeting going on between Sirius and Dumbledore back in the headmaster's office. Unsure as to why his godfather was still there, Harry pressed on to the abandoned hut of Hagrid, assured that no one would be there, allowing him peacefully drink and either die or get taken for another dimension hop.
*
Dumbledore had just finished setting Sirius' work before him when his door was brutally opened and just as brutally angered, Snape walked in. Caught in one hand were the robes of one Miss Virginia Weasley. Behind him, walking with bashful courage, were the two personas of Ron and Hermione.
She struggled and, seeing Dumbledore, nearly fell over herself. "Professor, I can explain-"
"Headmaster, I caught this student," he roughly let go of Ginny just as she struggled, resulting in her falling to the ground with a shriek, "destroying my classroom."
The distraction was welcome. Sirius, startled by the unannounced entrance, had just transformed back to his animagus state and hid behind Dumbledore's desk, barring his teeth at the stench of the person he firmly believed responsible for Harry's disappearance the day before.
Dumbledore calmly motioned for the four to take seats. Ginny immediately broke out with a story of stumbling into the ruined class, having only been there for a moment before being caught by Snape's vengeful hand. Ron and Hermione then sheepishly admitted to having been caught trying to guess the year's password, inferring to an important event recently occurred in the Gryffindor Tower but unwilling to speak of it in Snape's presence.
"Well," Dumbledore hid his smile well, "I'll have to deal with this. Goodnight, Severus." The professor haughtily glared at the students and left.
"Professor, I swear I didn't do it," Ginny immediately pleaded.
"Of course you didn't," Dumbledore soothed. "Don't worry child, I believe you. However," he looked to the older two, "I think there's more important business."
In grave tones, the two fifth years related the recent fight along with its near-disastrous end, and end prevented only through the use of quick wit. Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "Already, the Dark Lord's touch spreads," he murmured to himself, absently scratching Sirius' ear. The dog whined in solemn agreement.
Ginny, startled to find a dog in the office, looked to her brother and friend but neither looked surprised in the least so she settled back down.
Dumbledore was thoughtfully exploring a possibility to the Gryffindor problem when suddenly a thought occurred to him, dark as any premonition. "You say you were looking for Harry?" he asked.
Ron nodded. "Yea. He disappeared after we grabbed something to eat. He wanted to go to the library or something." Ron's expression clouded over and he glanced to Hermione. "Right?"
The prefect looked startled. "He... I don't think he actually told us."
Dumbledore's face darkened the slightest as he put one and one together: Harry had disappeared and someone had ransacked the potions classroom, where one obvious reason would be to find potion ingredients. Danger alerted his mind to hundreds of probabilities, the worst of which gave him reason to alert the Ministry: someone had found out about Harry's power increase (Voldemort) and had stolen both the boy and the ingredients to make the potion himself.
Another possibility was that Harry had been forced to remake the potion and had opposed whoever was forcing him (Voldemort), resulting in a fight that wasted the dungeon classroom. Or perhaps... each of the possibilities rang out with warning against Voldemort and grave danger for Harry.
The dog at his feet reached the same conclusion and it barked, jumping up and heading towards the door with a frenzied panic.
"Professor?" Ron looked about in confusion. "Snuffles?"
"Come with me," Dumbledore ordered. "There's trouble." He opened the door and Sirius shot out like a bullet, nose to the ground.
"Is Harry in trouble?" Ginny asked, breathless as they began to run, keeping up with the massive black dog. Ron and Hermione found the answer in the silence that came and their faces molded into grim certainty. Having never been in a rough situation since her first year, Ginny gulped, recalling the terror that the diary had sparked.
Sirius led them down towards a picture of a fruit bowl then shot away, heading towards the Gryffindor common room. Halfway there, he stopped, sniffing as Harry's scent met up with that of another student. Then he led away, back down towards-
The dungeons? Sirius paused in confusion and backtracked, sniffing the other student's scent again, trying to divine from it whether the student had been any cause of Harry's disappearance, but the scent turned harmless.
Meanwhile, the four humans waited in agitated silence, each drawing fearful conclusions from the dog's hesitance and backtrack. Then Sirius started again, warily smelling every corner as he headed down. Again, halfway there, he stopped but this time it was because just as Harry's scent led down to the class, a fresher trail led back up the hallway. He turned and followed the fresher trail.
More confusion brewed from Sirius' turn and Dumbledore's face was blank, save for his burning blue eyes that sparked fear.
Sirius scented down the trail, unknowingly leading the group outside and into a very large hut on the outskirts of the school.
*
"Maybe I'll turn into something."
Harry diddled his fingers together, staring at the potion that still smoked in front of him, the smoke twisting into trails that led every which-way before evaporating. Kind of like the possibilities of drinking this, Harry mused.
"Like a toad." His face blanched with the possibility. "Maybe not."
His dragon, bored again to silly antics, started flinging itself through Hagrid's hut, upsetting barrels and drawers, and tossing things everywhere.
Harry rolled his eyes and slapped at the air but was ignored. Then the dragon spotted a new possibility after having totally wrecked Hagrid's room; it swooped down and caught the map up in its claws.
"Hey!" Harry jumped up. "Give that back!"
The dragon, noting Harry's want, teased the boy mercilessly, hanging low in the air with the map just beyond reach. Harry sputtered and swore but broke into helpless laughter, jumping up time after time only to have his fingers merely brush the parchment before sliding away.
*
Sirius led outside and halted as smell astounded his senses. Before, only sheer determination had kept his nose to the scent of Harry's trail, kept his nose attuned to that single smell among thousands of different smells. But now, outside, more than a thousand different smells came up.
And they all required his attention.
Dog instincts rose up, urging him to follow the trail of a cat but human logic pointed out that the cat was McGonagall. Instinct pointed to the wind, the rain, the sun, all sources of smells he needed to smell. Only logic could tear his mind away and once again focus on the trail.
It led again and Sirius sneezed, brushing grass tips from his sensitive nose, but positive that he'd tracked Harry once again.
And that though was confirmed as he led the group down towards the abandoned hut of the half-giant.
*
Finally, Harry jumped up and grabbed the map. Obviously, the dragon was bored of that game. Half-annoyed, half-exhilarated with the game, Harry glanced at the map, barely registering the four people heading down on him.
The dragon nipped at him, setting him back towards the smoking cup. Obviously, it felt that Harry's indecisive time was over and that, if the boy was going to do it, he'd do it now.
"All right, all right," Harry swatted the dragon away and a cheerful laugh. His laugh cut short when the dragon landed a bit on Harry's little finger. Instead of laughing, Harry sucked in his breath and swore. "That hurt!"
The dragon was relentless, bashing its wings against Harry's head in an attack Harry hadn't experienced for some time. "Ow! Stop it! Ouch! All right, all right," he winced and felt against his temple where he was sure a bruise was forming. "I'll drink it. Just stop attacking me."
Then, the dragon having settled down from whatever had agitated it to the brink, Harry took a deep breath and raised the glass to his lips.
*
'No!' Sirius wanted to shout when he heard his godson's shouts but all that came was a gruff bark of alarm. He sped up and bashed against the door with enough force to break it open. But, even as he came it, it was too late.
Behind him, the lagging group caught up to see the great black dog mournfully sniffing at the broken cuts of glass on the floor, smoke rising with snake-like motions. Dumbledore took a deep breath and looked around.
Harry was gone.
