A/N: And now, for my favourite episode of all, Norbert… but, with Harry suspicious of Ron, will events turn out in our hero's favour?

Chapter Eleven: The Dragon Adventure

Though slightly annoyed that Neville and Harry hadn't thought to wake her to show her the Mirror of Erised before the Headmaster moved it, Hermione didn't seem too angry. Her thoughts seemed to focus more on the end of term exams, even though they seemed ages away to Harry. However, difficulties in classes soon kept Harry's focus from the mirror and the mysteries. In Transfiguration, Aunt Min was teaching them to change snuffboxes into mice. While Hermione managed to get a mouse, though the hinges were still visible on one side, Harry's snuffbox ended up with legs, a tail, and whiskers. Harry thought he was still on the match to pin level - and even though Hermione spent hours at his side, learning in English wasn't getting any easier.

Speaking it was, however. He could read some of the Potions textbooks, since he knew all the material anyway. In Charms, so long as the reading was short, he was caught up to everyone else, though his Tarantella seemed a bit on the wimpy side. And Defense Against the Dark Arts proved to be much simpler than he'd thought. Despite the heavy reading, he somehow seemed to understand how to block curses much better than making a tortoise from a teapot.

One day in mid-November, when Harry's Transfiguration homework was light, he decided it was time to try finding James again. He had a short list: the five Jameses in his mother's class. He supposed he could cross James Potter off the list immediately - after all, it was ridiculous to think that Mrs. Potter would have a son with someone other than The Boy Who Lived's father. Plus, if everyone was right and Harry Potter was supposed to be at Hogwarts in this very term, Mrs. Potter would've been pregnant twice!

But, there were four other Jameses to start with: Rodgers, Jones, Hugo, and Windsor. One of them certainly had to be the James that married Lily Evans, right? Harry kept the list tucked in his bag as he smiled to Madame Pince (who growled again) and headed to the reference books. This time, she wouldn't be stopping him.

After several hours of paging through the old Daily Prophet volumes, he wished she would. He only made it to 1979 before deciding it was all too much trouble. While James Jones had been eliminated, as he'd been killed in a 1978 Death Eater attack, the others had yet to be mentioned at all.

The lists of the dead outnumbered the weddings and births, in those years, by four to one. It left Harry wondering just what Papa had been doing during the War. He survived, when so many others - including Mater - hadn't.

Harry got up and started to head toward the door - only to run into one of the Gryffindor upperclassmen as he rounded the corner. It was Uncle Bill's brother, Percy, and Harry rubbed his forehead where he smacked against Percy's chin in the scuffle. "I am sorry," Harry murmured.

"No bother," Percy replied, brushing his robes off. He stopped and frowned at Harry. "You look a bit peaky. Are you feeling alright?"

He waved in the direction of the book stacks. "I am looking for things, but I cannot find them."

Percy nodded. "Problems with the English? You have yet to master the contraction, I've noticed."

At that, Harry couldn't help but scowl, although he wasn't sure what Percy was talking about. "Papa says my English is quite good. He thinks that I am remembering from when I was little."

"Right," Percy replied. "But if that's not it, what is?"

"I am looking for marriage announcement, for these men." Harry slapped the four-person list, down from five with Jones scratched off, into Percy's hand. Rodgers, Hugo, Windsor, Potter. "It is not for school. But I do not want to talk about why."

Percy frowned and stared at the short list. "Do you need dates? Or simply the name of the spouse?"

"Name," Harry said, after a moment's thought. "I am looking for one of these men who died with his wife at the end of the War."

"Well, that's simple," Percy replied. "Mr. Potter died with Mrs. Potter in the event that ended the war."

Harry sighed. "No. That is not it. One of the other men. Where must I look?"

"First I'd see if they're a possibility at all by checking the Floo Directory to see if they're still alive. Maybe you can narrow it down a bit." Percy handed back the list. "It's on the back of the reference aisle from here." Percy looked ready to take off into the depths of the library, but stopped short, only a few steps away. "Say, Harry, has my brother been acting rather off?"

"Which one?" Harry frowned. Uncle Bill had been fine, in his last letter, sent almost a month before. Gringotts was having an inspection, so he was quite busy. And Fred and George, the pranksters of Gryffindor, were bizarre enough that Harry doubted he'd know if they were acting 'off' from normal.

"Ron," Percy replied.

Harry gave a sigh. "I do not speak to Ron. He has been quite rude to Hermione and myself." He paused, deep in thought. "Though," he continued after a moment, "he has not complained about me to Professor McGonagall, lately, so that is different than normal. Yes, perhaps he is 'acting rather off' from normal."

"I wish I knew what he was up to," Percy grumbled, and stormed into the stacks. He left no time for Harry's thanks.

Harry returned to the reference shelf and found the Floo Directory, a thick, wide book with the Floo addresses for every witch and wizard in Britain. He didn't bother to look up 'Potter,' since everyone knew he was dead - but Percy's suggestion helped. James Hugo was still alive, married to a woman named Susan, and living in Camden. James Windsor had a flat in Kilburn. And James Rodgers had no entry.

James Rodgers, then, or one of the other Jameses from a different year. James and Lily Rodgers. Harry let it roll around, for a moment. He had a name - now what? What did he think he could find out?

Maybe it had been a waste of time, after all.

------

Harry watched the first snowfall from a window in the Gryffindor Common Room, waiting for Neville to get back from a pre-lunch meeting with Papa about his abysmal Potions grade. It wasn't Neville's fault - he was as bad at Potions as Harry was at Transfiguration - so Harry talked his father into offering a special tutoring session, just to help his son's friend get back on track. The sessions seemed to be helping, though Papa had little patience for those without a mind for Potions and Neville seemed scared out of his wits of Harry's father.

He wanted that day's session over, however, because he wanted to be out and playing in the snow. Fred and George Weasley had charmed snowballs to follow Percy around the courtyard and pelt him whenever he turned to yell at them. While Harry felt a bit sorry for Percy - Uncle Bill's stoic younger brother helped Harry whenever he needed it, now - it was funny to watch Percy duck Fred's snowball (or was it George's?) only to be hit by the other from behind.

Harry hadn't seen snow before, at least that he could remember. Papa never brought him to Hogwarts at Christmastime. Instead, Granpa and Aunt Min, and usually Uncle Remus, would come to Greece for the holiday to be with Harry and Papa. They celebrated Hanukkah first, with candles and chocolate gelt that changed colors magically in the dreidl game, because of Harry's cousins. The Christmas Tree was Papa's tradition, and bore ornaments from all the families there. Presents were simple, and they dined on roast goose and Christmas pudding until late at night, then lit the tree and let the balmy Mediterranean breezes float through the windows as they dozed.

There were no balmy breezes in Scotland, that was for certain, at least not in the first week of December. Harry had taken to wearing his Gryffindor muffler, hat, and mittens everywhere in the castle. It would make Potions difficult, after lunch, but Papa's dungeons were the coldest place in the castle. Harry wondered how his father could survive down there.

Finally, Neville burst into the Common Room. "Sorry, Harry!" he called, tossing his satchel on the couch. "Lost track of time. Your dad was helping me with the Shrinking Solution theory paper."

"He is not scary," Harry pointed out.

Neville frowned. "He's scary. Just… not all the time." He came over to the window and took a seat next to Harry. "What're you looking at? Fred and George are doing something to Percy again, aren't they."

"They have charmed snowballs." Harry grinned. "I would like to make a snowball."

"Sure," Neville shrugged. "Why not? We've got a bit before lunch. Just let me get my cloak." Neville raced up the stairs, nearly knocking over Oliver Wood, the star of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

As Neville made his apologies, Wood waved him off. He wandered over to Harry, then, and peered over his shoulder. "The way you're starin' out the window, you'd think there was a banshee there."

Harry fidgeted, uncomfortable in the presence of Gryffindor's current hero. In the last match, Wood single-handedly blocked every Hufflepuff scoring attempt, for a spectacular shut-out game. "It is snow," Harry explained. "I have never…" He shrugged and waved his hand at the students in the courtyard below.

"Never played in the snow? Pah! Get out there, mate, hit up Fred n' George a bit. Poor Percy looks to be having a rough time o' it." Wood chuckled as a squad of six snowballs pelted Percy from all sides. "Not to say he hasn't deserved it."

"You could play, too," Harry pointed out.

Wood shook his head. "Not today, I'm afraid. There's a rumor goin' round that Terrence Higgs is quittin' the Slytherin Quidditch team. If so… Lee's too big to be a Seeker, really, though he used to be fair at it, but with Higgs off the team, we've finally a chance at beating Slytherin! I've got to go track down Flint an' see if it's the truth." Wood patted Harry's shoulder. "'Sides, I grew up in the Highlands. I'll leave the snow to those who need it."

"You did a wonderful job with Hufflepuff," Harry blurted. "I was a Beater on my old school team, but Fred and George are much better than I am, so I would have no chance to be on the team until they are gone -"

Wood cut him off with a wave of his hand. "You're too tiny to be a Beater 'gainst Slytherin, anyway. But, if you don' grow much before next year, you should try out to replace Lee as Seeker."

"Seeker?" Harry breathed, eyes wide. Wood merely winked and wandered off toward the portrait-hole. It was an amazing thought - to be Seeker, the most celebrated member of any Quidditch team.

He barely noticed as Neville came thundering back down the stairs, until Neville poked his shoulder. "Dean and Seamus are going out, too," he reported. "They're going to make a fort. Want to help, and attack the first group of Slytherins that walk by?"

Harry nodded, and they hurried down into the courtyard.

------

At lunch, they were wet and cold. Hermione sniffed loudly as Harry shivered at her side, rubbing his mittened hands together for warmth. "Honestly, Harry, you should be more careful in this temperature. Being from such a temperate climate, you simply don't know how to cope in cold!"

Neville blew his nose loudly. "We were having fun," he said softly.

"And you - Neville, you should be looking out for him, when he's not used to Scottish weather!"

Neville sunk down in his seat in response.

Any other scolding was interrupted by a magnificent Eagle Owl swooping down to drop a letter in Ron's food before flying off again. Ron swore loudly and pulled the envelope from his half-eaten chicken, trying to wipe off the edge with his napkin.

Harry stopped eating to watch, thinking back to Percy's question in the library, weeks before. Ron had been acting oddly - or, oddly compared to the Hermione-baiting he'd been participating in for most of the term. He'd been oddly quiet, he barely spent any of his free time in the Common Room, and Harry noticed him sneaking back from Hagrid's cabin on the edge of the Forbidden Forest while they were building their fort. For that matter, Hagrid's cottage seemed odd, as well: the chimney had been smoking rather a lot compared to the size of the place.

Ron tore open the letter and scanned through it. Then, he glanced up and stared around at everyone else suspiciously. Harry looked down quickly. When he looked back at Ron again, the boy was tucking the letter into his Potions book.

On Harry's other side, Percy seemed to be watching, too. "That was the owl our brother Charlie uses," Percy said softly. Harry turned to look at the prefect, who shrugged. "You looked confused."

Harry remembered Charlie vaguely from his year living at Hogwarts. Charlie was two years younger than Uncle Bill and had helped one of the Slytherins to watch over Harry when Bill wasn't around. "Ron is close to Charlie?" he asked.

"Not particularly," Percy said.

Fred and George seemed to notice Charlie's owl, too. One of the twins came up behind him and tried to snatch the letter from the book. "What's that, Ron? You hiding letters from Charlie?"

"S'not for you," Ron replied, grabbing the book and tucking it into his bag. "It's between me and Charlie. Go away, Fred."

"He's not Fred. I'm Fred," the other twin said, swooping down to take a piece of chicken from Ron's plate.

"Hey!" Ron swiped at them both. "You're George, and he's Fred, and you can't fool me with that trick anymore!"

Fred (or George, Harry certainly couldn't tell the difference) let out a dramatic sigh. "Aww, iccle Ronnekins doesn't want to play with his brothers?"

George patted Ron's shoulder. "We should let the boy be, brother mine. I've no wish to waste myself on someone who doesn't appreciate me."

"And I thought we'd taught him well… Now he abandons us…" Fred dropped the morsel of food back on the table and slumped against George's shoulder. George led him off, Fred sobbing fakely the whole way.

"I wonder what he's up to," Percy muttered, eyes narrowed.

Harry shrugged. Hermione and Neville weren't paying attention; they were too busy exchanging Potions essays to edit. "You were right. He is acting oddly. He was at Hagrid's after Herbology, and would not come to make a snow fort with Seamus, Dean, Neville, and myself."

"Whatever it is, I'll be the answer's in that letter." Percy made a disgusted face, then shook his head. "I hate to give you this advice, as it's against all the rules, and if I catch you, I'll of course have to take points off… but Fred and George might be persuaded to distract him while you get the letter."

"You want me to break rules to find out what Ron is doing?" Harry asked.

Percy sighed. "I'm afraid he's doing something illegal. He only keeps to himself when he's trying to keep a secret… I wouldn't do this if it weren't in his best interest. Just - whatever he's doing, leave me out of the whole thing. I don't want to know." Percy patted his Prefect badge. "I would have to report him."

Harry thought that was a twisted way to view the world, but kept his opinions to himself. Luckily, he didn't have to respond at all, as Ron's end of the table dissolved into laughter. Harry and Percy turned to watch Ron jump to his feet. Ron's skin was bright blue, and steam was coming from his ears.

"It was the chicken, I think," Hermione said. "He should be more careful eating anything they've touched."

------

Harry didn't have much of a chance to see the contents of the letter, since it was out of Ron's hands within the hour. It happened in Potions, as they were learning to make the Shrinking Solutions that they'd written their last essay about. Neville and Harry were partnered again, as were Hermione and Ron. They seemed to be having a terrible time with their potion, as Ron kept stirring anti-clockwise instead of clockwise, but Neville seemed to have picked up on the basics since their last practical.

After a few minutes, Papa came over and pulled Harry away from his desk. Everyone in the class seemed to busy to notice. "I wanted to talk to you about the holidays, Herodos," Papa said. "I'd ask at dinner, but I still need to finish Remus' potion, if you understand me."

Harry nodded. The full moon was that night, and Harry certainly didn't want a dangerous monster roaming the corridors after dark. "Of course, sir. What do you wish to say about Christmas?"

"We'll be in England, this year. I'll be inviting the Headmaster and Minerva, of course. And Remus. But there are several on the list I'd like to have your input on."

"Yes?" Harry frowned. He didn't want strangers intruding on his holiday, especially since he would be away from home for the first time he could remember.

Papa looked uncomfortable. "I wish to invite a former student to Christmas dinner. She was… orphaned during the War, and has little other family. As she does not have control over her ancestral home, and this is to be her first holiday back in England, she would probably like someplace to stay. With your permission, of course."

Harry shrugged. "It is fine," he lied.

Papa smiled, something he rarely did in class, and ruffled Harry's fringe. "I'll let her know, then. She'll be quite excited to see you, I dare say -"

And whatever else Papa was planning to say was cut off by a loud explosion. Over Papa's shoulder, Harry caught sight of the class in chaos. Hermione and Neville were hiding under Harry and Neville's desk. Most of the Slytherins were screaming and waving shrinking body parts around. The rest of the Gryffindors, save Ron, were off to the side, trying not to get involved. And Draco Malfoy was advancing on Ron, pointing at the shrinking head of one of his sidekicks. Behind Malfoy, his cauldron was letting off copious amounts of smoke.

Papa charged in, glaring at the Gryffindors. "What just happened?"

"It was Weasley," Malfoy reported. "He chucked a dungbomb in my cauldron, sir!"

For once, Malfoy seemed to be telling the truth. Pansy Parkinson was sobbing, and ran forward to wave her strangely tiny hand in Papa's face. "My hand! What do we do?"

"Detention, Weasley, and ten points off Gryffindor," Papa snarled. "Everyone affected by the potion, come with me. You too, Weasley," he growled, and Ron started to sit down.

Ron's books were knocked from the desk by the stampede of students heading to the front of the classroom. As Harry watched, Malfoy crouched down and picked up the letter, which had fallen from Ron's potions book in the tumble, then left the book lying on the floor. Malfoy slipped the letter into the pocket of his bag.

Harry frowned and joined up with Hermione and Neville. "Did you see that?" he whispered.

"The explosion?" Neville asked. "Hermione was cutting up the yarrow root when Ron reached into his pocket and lobbed the thing at Malfoy. He ducked - Malfoy, I mean, but the potion caught Goyle right in the head! Their fathers have a rivalry, you know. I heard Mr. Malfoy just won the lobby to cut back on Mr. Weasley's department at the Ministry of Magic -"

"Not that, Neville," Hermione said. "Malfoy took the letter. Is that right?"

"It is," Harry said. "And now Slytherin knows whatever it is Ron's up to. Percy thinks he might be doing something illegal… we've got to get that letter back and stop them, before Gryffindor loses enough points to cost us the House Cup!"

Neville nodded enthusiastically, while Hermione let out a gasp. "Harry!" she exclaimed, "you used a contraction."

Harry rolled his eyes.

------

Operation 'Save the Cup' commenced after classes were done for the day. Harry and Neville followed Malfoy out into the snow, while Hermione lurked just out of sight. Malfoy was accompanied by only one goon - Vincent Crabbe, since Goyle was still in the Infirmary, getting his head expanded to its normal size. Harry didn't want to start a fight, as that was likely to cost points and end in detentions, but at least there would be equal odds.

Malfoy and Crabbe were near the snow wizards the Hufflepuff first-years had been making before lunch. Crabbe appeared to be defacing a snowman version of Professor Sprout, the Hufflepuff Head of House, while Malfoy laughed nearby. The bag sat at his feet.

Harry nudged Neville and made a show of walking past the pair. He wasn't sure where he was supposed to be going, really - the Quidditch stadium was past the field, but Harry hadn't any reason to go there. He just hoped Malfoy wasn't perceptive enough to ask. "Did you hear that the Slytherin Seeker is quitting?" Harry asked loudly.

When Neville merely looked confused, Harry cleared his throat. Malfoy had stopped laughing. Finally, Neville seemed to get the plan. "Yeah. That's - that's what Wood said. In the Common Room. Today. Said Higgs was leaving."

Neville was worse at acting than he was at Potions. Holding back a sigh, Harry pushed on with his monologue. "Wood said that we can win the Cup, this year, now that Higgs is gone."

"Fat chance, Snape," Malfoy growled. He stepped forward, away from his bag, and Crabbe came over to stand at his side.

Harry could've cheered at how well his plan was working. They wouldn't need to break the rules using Fred and George's pranks, at all! "Higgs is the only good player that your team has," Harry replied, holding back his grin of delight.

"All you've got is Wood," Malfoy snapped. "What happens if he takes a Bludger to the brain? You've no team at all."

"At least we would still have a Seeker," Harry pointed out. "Right now, Slytherin has no Seeker. Not even a reserve."

Malfoy snorted. "No Seeker is better than Lee Jordan. He doesn't belong on the field. You lot haven't won the Cup since Charlie Weasley graduated!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry caught sight of Hermione creeping around the snow fort, her eyes focused on Malfoy's bag. "And maybe we will not win this year - but we will make certain that you do not win… at least, not the Quidditch Cup."

"We'll destroy Gryffindor, like we always do." Malfoy sniffed, tossed his head haughtily, and started to turn around.

"You sound so sure of your win. Do you expect that Marcus Flint will make you Seeker?" Harry said frantically, trying to make his voice sound like a scoff and not so desperate. Hermione was pulling the letter from the bag as they spoke.

Malfoy rolled his eyes, but stopped turning around. At his side, Neville let out a quiet sigh. "First years can't have brooms, or I'm sure he would. What, do you think that Wood will ask you to replace Jordan? You're too big to be a Seeker."

Harry drew himself up, ignoring that Hermione was almost out of the danger zone. "He has asked me to try out next year, for Seeker. And you are taller than I am, but not big enough to be a Beater. I bet you are not talented enough to be Keeper, either."

Malfoy snarled and took a step forward. Harry headed to meet him - but Neville grabbed his arm and held him back. "Just wait, Snape. There's no way you'll get the House Cup this year. Not a chance. By tomorrow, you won't have points at all… And next year? If you manage to make it on the team, I'll destroy you on the Pitch. Just you wait and see." And, giving a nod for Crabbe to follow, Malfoy turned, scooped up his bag, and marched toward the school.

Harry shivered - and it wasn't because of the cold. Whatever was in that letter was bad, indeed.

Once Malfoy was out of sight, Hermione popped up from behind the snow fort and hurried over, the letter clutched in her hand. "Goodness, Harry, I thought Malfoy was going to hit you!"

He took the letter from her. "He would not. He would lose many points… and, worse, would make his Head of House angry with him." Harry gave a smile. "Sometimes, it is nice to have a teacher for a parent."

"Go on, Harry! Read it!" Neville urged. "We've got to stop whatever it is Malfoy knows about!"

Harry unfolded the letter and read it aloud.

Dear Ron,

I would be glad to take the Norwegian Ridgeback for you. I won't ask how you got it, but the preserve could use another Ridgeback. This is the perfect weekend for it. I'm visiting Mum already, with friends from the preserve. Meet us at the top of the North Tower on Friday night at midnight. We'll have all the equipment ready.

Your brother, Charlie

"Norwegian Ridgeback?" Neville murmured.

"It's a dragon," Harry replied. "Charlie Weasley works on a dragon preserve in Romania." Uncle Bill told him that, one visit. Harry thought it sounded adventurous - until they learned about dragons in school.

Hermione's eyes widened. "A dragon? Hagrid's raising a dragon? But it's illegal… and Malfoy knows…"

"Hagrid could get in a lot of trouble," Neville pointed out, "not to mention Ron, and Gryffindor."

Harry nodded. Hagrid and Ron getting in trouble wasn't the only problem with the plan, however. It was the full moon - and though Uncle Re took the Wolfsbane potion, there was no assurance that he'd be unable to escape his confines and roam the school in the middle of the night. "We have to help them get the dragon out of Scotland." At least then, it would be over quickly… and Harry knew how to deter a werewolf.

------

Over dinner, they hashed out their plan, and at eleven pm, they were all dressed and sitting in front of the portrait-hole. Quarter past, Ron crept down, bundled in his muffler and cap. He stopped short. "What are you doing here?" he hissed.

"Hagrid's been raising a dragon," Hermione whispered. "It's illegal. You're going to go out there and get yourself caught, and get points taken from Gryffindor."

"I won't! No one will know! And, for that matter, how did you figure it out?" Ron glanced between the three of them.

Neville pulled the letter from out of his pocket and handed it over to Ron. "Malfoy took it from your book after the dung bomb went off in Potions. We got it back… but he knows. He's probably told Professor Snape."

"You can't stop me," Ron countered. "I've got to get this dragon out, before Hagrid gets sacked!"

The trio exchanged glances. "We don't want to stop you," Harry said, finally. "We wish to help you. Neville and I will help you carry the dragon to the tower, and Hermione will stand watch. If Malfoy comes, she will make a distraction."

"Why are you doing this?" Ron asked, seeming at a loss.

"We are Gryffindors," Harry said simply. "We stand together."

The plan was executed well. The four Gryffindors crept downstairs. Hermione kept watch as the boys snuck across the grounds to pick the dragon up from Hagrid's hut. When he opened the door, Hagrid was sniffing loudly, and his nose was bright red. "Don' take 'im, Ron. He only wants to be with his mummy!"

"His mummy?" Nevilled mouthed.

Ron let out an aggravated sigh. "Hagrid, he's illegal! And your house - it's made of wood! The beast will burn the place down in a few months!"

"Norbert's not a beast!" Hagrid blubbered. However, he let them inside.

The dragon, presumably named Norbert, had been locked inside a crate, which was rocking wildly on the floor of the hut. "He's got 'is teddy," Hagrid sniffled. The box shuddered, and a loud ripping came from within. Harry held back a gulp.

"Charlie'll take care of him in Romania," Ron said. When Hagrid looked ready to protest, Ron shook his head. "Look - I've brought other Gryffindors with me, Hagrid. We're in this together. Norbert has to go away, now. They're going to help me, and you're going to say good-bye to Norbert, now."

It took only a few more minutes, before the three hefted the box across the grounds and met up with Hermione inside the doors.

"Malfoy is roaming the halls," she reported. "Filch was by, but I hid."

"He only does a round every two hours," Ron said. "Or, so Fred and George say, and they'd know."

Hermione scouting ahead, they made their way up to the top of the North Tower. Once there, Hermione and Neville waited below, in case Filch or Malfoy needed to be deterred. The stars were bright, and Norbert had ceased struggling against the box. So far, everything seemed to be going according to plan. Harry and Ron sat in silence.

Just as the clock began to strike twelve, Ron pointed at several specks in front of the moon. "Look. It's Charlie," he whispered.

Indeed, it was. Four figures on broomsticks rushed up and landed on the roof. Charlie was off his broom first, bounding across the roof to slug Ron's shoulder. "Hey, mate!" Charlie was certainly older than Harry remembered, though his hair was just as bright. He was sporting a beard, which Harry thought was funny. "Who's this?"

"Oh. Harry, this is my brother, Charlie. Charlie - this is Herodos Snape. He's in my class. Gryffindor." Ron shrugged. Harry smiled politely, shivering in his cloak. He'd forgotten his muffler, and was paying for it with goosebumps.

Charlie let out a loud gasp and stared at Harry. "You're - you're him?" To Ron's apparent shock, and Harry's confusion, he dashed over to the other riders. One, he grabbed by the arm and dragged over to stand before Harry. "It's him," Charlie whispered.

"Who?" the rider replied. This one was a woman, about Charlie's age, with dark, curly hair.

"Harry," Charlie replied. "Harry P- Snape's kid." The last was emphasized. Harry wondered just what Charlie had been about to say.

The woman's eyes widened. "Oh, Merlin," she whispered, then shook her head. She reached out and grabbed Harry's hand, shaking wildly. "I'm Dina Lestrange, Harry. Do you remember me? Me and Charlie used to babysit you, when you were little."

And Harry did, a little. He remembered eating digestives out of Papa's desk and colouring pictures of Madame Pomfrey while Dina was in detention. That didn't explain their awed looks, however. Harry pointed at the crate. "I'm just - here to help with the dragon."

Charlie waved a hand to the other two riders. "The Ridgeback is in the crate. Why don't you get the harness ready?"

Dina, meanwhile, had taken a step closer to Harry. She reached out and brushed his fringe back, right where Harry's forehead was always a bit itchy. "So you're finally at Hogwarts," she said. "Gryffindor…" That was almost sadly. "I always thought you'd make Slytherin."

"The hat said that I am like my Mater," Harry tried to explain. However, a shiver interrupted him.

"You look just like your dad," Dina said. She unwrapped her muffler, then hung it over Harry's shoulders. It was an old Slytherin scarf, worn by years of care. "There. That looks right."

Harry shook his head. "I cannot take your scarf. It is cold out, and you have to fly to Romania."

"Keep it. I'll steal Charlie's if I'm cold."

"Hey!" Charlie interjected. "And what if I'm cold, too? Thief." One of the other riders snorted loudly. "Yeah, that's it, Rupes, laugh it up - you'll be sleeping outside the tent when we get back."

------

However, the dragon was soon in place, and it was time for the four to leave. Dina ruffled Harry's fringe and Charlie told him to be very careful. They bid farewell to Ron, and then took off, the dragon's crate suspended between the four broomsticks. "That was weird," Ron muttered. "Charlie didn't even ask me about Percy and the twins."

Harry huddled in Dina's scarf. "I think there is a secret that I do not know," Harry murmured, but Ron didn't seem to hear.

And, with that, the mission was completed. Now, all they had to do was get back to Gryffindor Tower without Filch or Malfoy overtaking them. Hopefully, Filch would find Malfoy and be too busy writing up a detention slip to listen to his stories of dragons.

However, luck was no longer in their favor. Just as they reached the bottom of the stairwell, the staircase began to change direction. "Drat," Hermione whispered. "We'll have to take the out of bounds corridor to get back!"

Ron crept out onto the staircase, then slunk back, keeping his head low. "In this position, we'll be seen from most of the floors. If Malfoy's nearby, or if Filch is out…" He trailed off and shook his head. "We might as well turn ourselves in."

"We're not giving up," Neville frowned, thumping the railing. "Let's go. One at a time. If someone sees the first across, the rest of us can hide until danger's past… then only one of us will get detention."

Before Neville could volunteer to go first, Ron was halfway up the stairs. Hermione scowled. "If he'd simply stop and plan first, we'd have fewer problems with losing points -"

"I will go last," Harry whispered, glancing down the corridors. "Rear guard."

At the top of the stairs, Ron glanced around and waved. Neville crept up after him, and Hermione waited at the foot of the stairs. Harry crossed the hall and peered around the corner.

He caught a flash of blonde. "Go," he hissed to Hermione, "now!" Then, drawing his wand from his pocket, he stepped out into the hallway.

As planned, Malfoy got a good look at him. Hopefully, the others would be getting away. "Snape!" Malfoy glared. "Where's Weasley?"

Harry shrugged. "I do not know. I do not care. He is not a friend."

"He's aiding the illegal transfer of dangerous animals," Malfoy said. He continued down the hall, and Harry stepped out from the shadows, to keep Malfoy from looking up the staircase. "It'll be your House that loses the points… unless you help me turn him in."

In response, Harry borrowed one of Neville's favourite phrases. "Fat chance." Malfoy's face started to turn an unbecoming shade of red. "He is my Housemate. I still would not betray him to you."

"You Gryffindors are all pathetic," Malfoy snapped. "You're supposed to be loyal to your family, not to those Mudblood friends. We're practically family, you and I. Snapes and Malfoys… If your father hadn't sent you off to Greece, I've no doubt we'd have grown up together."

Harry was about to reply, when a squeal came from the direction of the staircase. Malfoy's eyes narrowed, and he started to push past Harry toward the noise. Harry refused to take a chance - rather than let Malfoy see his comrades-in-arms, he dropped his wand and punched Malfoy in the face.

He certainly had Malfoy's attention, then. The other boy ignored the stairs (and his bloody nose) in favor of lunging at Harry, fists flying.

Size-wise, they were certainly well matched. However, Harry hadn't been well trained in the art of self-defense. He had no siblings, and his cousins usually took care of the playground bullies. He went down under Malfoy's assault, wheezing after a knee to the gut. His glasses went flying as he hit the ground. The floor was cold.

Harry lashed out, but Malfoy managed to slam Harry's skull against the ground. The dim outlines of the walls were starting to get fuzzy. He was more than a little worried - would Malfoy just leave him unconscious in the corridor? - when a sudden scream echoed down the halls.

"Mr. Malfoy! Mr. Snape! Stop that!" And Auntie Min charged over, dressed in her tartan housecoat. She pulled Malfoy off of Harry, then yanked Harry up by the shoulder. "Fighting in the halls - after hours - just look at the two of you, bleeding all over the floors, and it being the full moon -" She cut herself off before giving away Uncle Re's secret. "Ten - no, twenty points from each of your Houses! And Detention, both of you," she snapped, "to be served… tomorrow night! You'll have no weekend of ease!"

"Professor, he's broken my nose!" Malfoy whined, cradling his face.

Auntie Min released Harry, who knelt down and felt around for his glasses. Luckily, they weren't broken.. She pulled Malfoy's hands away and took a closer look. "He did no such thing. He just broke a blood vessel." With a wave of her wand, the blood was gone. "There. Go back to your dormitory, before I wake your Head of House." Malfoy scurried off.

She turned on Harry, then. "And you - you should know better! Your father is a professor! Just imagine what he'll say when he hears what you were getting up to!" She charmed the blood away. "Just a crack on the head, you'll be fine - and a black eye - Goodness, you and Mr. Malfoy are just like James and Severus were, always at each other's throats -" She stopped abruptly.

Harry rubbed the sore back of his head. He'd have a terrible bump, in the morning. However, he pushed it aside. "James?" he asked.

"None of your business," she growled. Taking his shoulders, Auntie Min marched him back toward Gryffindor Tower. "Wronski feint!" she yelled at the Fat Lady, provoking a haughty sniff from the portrait, though the entrance swung open. "Get inside. Now. I'm ashamed of you, Harry."

Shoulders slumped, Harry crept inside. The portrait slammed behind him, and he could hear Auntie Min storming off. Adding to his disgrace, his right eye was starting to throb. Papa would be told, and he was sure to be in for a scolding the likes of which he'd never seen.

The scene in the Common Room pushed his shame away. Neville, Hermione, and Ron were all waiting up for him. Hermione was on her feet in an instant. "Oh, Harry! Who caught you? Was it Filch? Did he hurt you?"

"Malfoy," Harry had to explain. "I punched him to keep him from seeing you all."

Neville's eyes were wide. "You've got a black eye? Shouldn't you go to the infirmary?"

"Professor McGonagall brought me back here and told me not to leave until tomorrow." Harry looked at his feet. "We lost twenty points… but Slytherin did, too."

"Blimey, Harry…" When he looked up again, Ron's expression was nearly worshipful. "Only twenty, and Slytherin down as many? If I'd been caught, we'd be out of the running… Thanks, mate."

And from then on, Ron was part of the group. After all, smuggling an illegal dragon after curfew was an experience best appreciated only with one's closest friends.