I Am The Sleeping Dragon

Disclaimer/Plot/Author's Note: SEE FIRST CHAPTER

Recommended Reads: The Rise of the Last Potter by HPfanfictioner66, Harry Potter and the Spiteful Sorting Hat by Evening Ego, Summer Camp by Harry50, Inevitable by Raging Smurf, Trickshot, Apex and Damaged Raven by JustBored21, The Best Laid Plans by Lowten, Embracing His True Self by DebsTheSlytherinSnapefan, The Young Lord by SlytherinDarkHarry, Broken Shackles by Black Infinity 1289 and The Forgotten Memory by NightRaven789

Key Pairing: Dark Harmony

Other Pairings: To be determined

Normal Speech

'Thoughts'

/Parseltongue/

Review Answers:

Ironcoil: This chapter should clear up what our heroine knows, while also setting up the future;

WhiteElfElder: As a wise man once said: games? Did someone say games? And perchance, for interest's sake, a deadly game? To the Game…kudos if you can work out whom;

Bluezinthos: No, I don't think so: as this chapter proves, Damian's ability to hurt and damage without firing off a single spell is not some simple boaster at work;

Whatever had happened down in the Chamber, Dumbledore knew this much.

Harry Potter…was lost…

And not in a way that even Azkaban, the threat of the Veil, or even the courts and any sort of magic could undo, either.

'Gilderoy…what did you do?'

Chapter 3: The Truth of It All

She should wake up.

She knew she should wake up, but, at the same time, it felt like she couldn't; not because she didn't want to, but rather, because there was still something she needed to see, to feel, to understand.

How she knew this was the case, she didn't know.

And yet, this didn't stop her from succumbing to the feelings inside of her.

All of which came together to pull her deeper into darkness…

Sleep

One Year Ago

"He's all right…he's just unconscious; listen, take Ron, go back through the corridors. Take him to Madam Pomfrey and then go to the Owlery; send a message to Dumbledore. Ron's right; I need to go on alone."

A feeling of overwhelming guilt, pain and personal hope seemed to drive Hermione Jean Granger forwards as she heard her first true friend, Harry James Potter, take charge of the situation. As she looked into his eyes, which seemed to burn with fire and determination, a small smile crossed the twelve-year-old girl's face as she found words leaping, unbidden, to her lips.

"You'll be okay…you're a great wizard, Harry. You really are…"

Rather than take the compliment, however, Hermione gasped when she saw Harry's eyes lower before a blush rose up his cheeks as he muttered in an almost-inaudible murmur, "I'm not as great as you, Hermione…nobody is."

"Me?" scoffed Hermione, again wondering where, exactly, these words were coming from.

And yet, as she said them to Harry, almost as though she was trying to encourage him to believe in the truth of those words himself, Hermione found herself agreeing with every word spoken, "Books and cleverness? You know, Harry; there are more important things. Like friendship, and bravery…and Harry…just please…promise me you'll be careful."

"I will," said Harry, before he looked to Ron's unconscious form as he rose up before, turning his back on them, he muttered, "Even though I'm nothing like him."

"Like who?" asked Hermione.

Scoffing in response, Harry shook his head, "It's nothing; you'll only laugh at me."

"No, I won't!" insisted Hermione, rising from the ground as she stood with Harry; taking his hand in hers, Hermione turned him to face her before she looked into his surprisingly-distant, dark, emerald-green eyes as she asked, "Tell me, Harry; we're friends. I promise, whatever you have to say, I won't laugh…not at you."

Smiling thinly in response, Harry rolled his eyes before he looked back into Hermione's brown eyes as he told her, "All right…it's a bit silly, I'm sure you'll agree, but…when I was younger, living with the Dursleys, I…I never really had much of a hero's life, or…or anything that could be called fun or friendly. Heck, most of my life was spent in darkness, so…to pass the time, I…I'd…I'd tell myself stories…and close my eyes and daydream."

"What's weird about that?"

"In time," answered Harry, running a hand through his hair as he explained, "My dreams…they seemed to take on a life of their own; you know, like I was roleplaying when…when I was alone and…and in my cupboard, or at school? And, right at the centre of these games, these dreams…every single time, was a hero…the hero…"

Here, Harry looked into Hermione's eyes with a mixture of childish embarrassment and confession as he went on.

"His name was Damian Drake…or rather, that's what I named him and, when I became him, I wasn't weak, alone or even someone or something that could be knocked down. I was big, strong, powerful and…and capable of seeing…doing everything that I could to tackle the problem. Even before the problem became a problem, Damian would be able to figure it out; kind of like Sherlock Holmes-level fast, you know? And his power…it was more powerful than any enemy could use to knock him down…so, I guess, in a way, this was why I let myself pretend to…to be him…"

"So, you weren't weak," said Hermione, earning a blush and a nod from Harry, before Hermione smirked as she asked, "Do…do you still pretend to be Damian here at school?"

"Only in my dorm, and even then, when I'm dreaming or thinking about some of the weird, crazy stuff we've had to deal with this year," admitted Harry, earning a solemn look from Hermione as Harry told her, "For example, back in the Sorting: I begged the Sorting Hat not to send me to Slytherin, because I was scared of turning into something like Voldemort."

As Hermione flinched at the name, Harry quickly continued, "But Damian? He wouldn't be afraid of going there: he'd actually consider it an honour, if only because of the things I've read about Slytherin House before Voldemort. I mean, Merlin himself was rumoured to have been one of the very first Slytherin students, and he's as big as Dumbledore these days."

"Ironic, since Dumbledore was a Gryffindor," argued Hermione, earning a shrug from Harry before Hermione tugged on her collar, twirling her hair between her fingers nervously as she asked, "And what about us, Harry? Me and Ron and our friends? If…if this Damian was real; what would he think of us?"

"He'd love you, Hermione!" insisted Harry, the fire and passion in his words startling Hermione as Harry quickly continued, "For one thing, Damian would never let Ron insult you, nor would he have let you be trapped in that bathroom. Heck, Damian wouldn't have even fallen for Malfoy's little trap, and if the git had anything to say about it, or Snape for that matter, he'd shoot them down because, as powerful as his might and magic are, the greater, deadlier weapon Damian has is his voice…and the fire in his belly, for those he cares dearest about and, I promise you, Hermione: if I were him, I'd let nothing happen to you…we wouldn't even be down here. We'd be maxing and relaxing in Gryffindor Tower, talking about our plans for the summer instead of risking our necks for this silly little gemstone…"

"Then maybe you should channel your inner Damian, and go on, now, before anyone can get away with it," suggested Hermione, placing a hand over Harry's mouth as she smiled at him. "Because I don't know why you think you need to pretend to be someone else to be great, Harry James Potter, because, if there is one thing I believe in, it's you. My friend. My fellow pride-mate and the boy who is capable of Merlin-knows-what…if only he were willing to give himself the chance."

Even as Harry blushed in response, Hermione pointed to the next room, "Go on…we can talk more afterwards…and besides, I need to get Ron out of here too, so you go on, Harry. I'll make sure Professor Dumbledore reaches you before anything too bad can happen."

Silently thanking her for the encouraging words, Harry turned and took off into the next room.

Leaving a blushing Hermione to finally show her blush at how much passion she had seen in Harry when he talked about this…this imaginary friend side of him.

And, while she would never laugh at him for having such a childish habit, she also would never speak of Damian Drake with anyone but Harry.

That was what it meant to be a true friend.

Besides, although Harry said that his alter-ego would love Hermione, she wasn't so sure she could feel the same for anyone who wasn't her friend.

Sleep

Present Day

A warm hand.

That was the first thing Hermione was aware of when she felt consciousness returning to her, accompanied by a sour taste that danced over her tongue and stung at the back of her throat. At the same time, her once-glazed, frozen eyesight started to clear again, bringing the Hogwarts Hospital Wing into full view, along with a relieved-looking Madam Pomfrey and, to Hermione's surprise, a truly-curious sight.

A pair of steely-cold emerald-green eyes that looked down at her from within the folds of a Slytherin trimmed and crested robe; the student in question had raven-black hair, as well as a familiar lightning-bolt scar, which told Hermione who it was.

And yet, when she looked at the figure, it wasn't the name she knew that leapt to her lips.

Instead, it was another name.

One she'd only heard from one person.

"D…D…Damian?"

A smile crossed the boy's face, before Hermione heard him scoff amusingly.

"Finally, someone gets it right first-time; not surprising that it's you, Hermione. You always were the brilliant one; and you have no idea how happy I am to see you're okay. Guess I don't have to set fire to Snape's grease pit trap of a hairdo after all."

"Potter!" exclaimed Madam Pomfrey, earning a scoff from Damian.

"And, just like that, someone gets it wrong as quickly as someone gets it right…thanks for ruining my day, Matron. Now, don't you have other patients to tend to, or are you intentionally being overdramatic and panicky like that redheaded loudmouth on drugs?"

Even as Madam Pomfrey left, Hermione looked once to Damian with a mixture of surprise and amusement, before she sighed softly as she looked into his steely-green eyes.

"So, what did I miss?"

'Apart from everything,' she added in thought, a small part of her then wondering what, exactly, might have happened to her best friend.

Especially since, from what Hermione could see, Harry Potter was out.

And Damian Drake, the guy who should only exist in Harry's imagination and his dreams, was now tagged in.

Chapter 3 and, at long last, we discover something about the origins of the spirit of Damian Drake, but, personally, I agree with Hermione: how could an imaginary friend become the real F'n deal, all thanks to a fake and a fool?

Also, knowing what she does about Harry's apparent alter-ego, how might Hermione handle Damian's darker, not to mention Slytherin-affiliated, tendencies, habits and thoughts on all around him, save what matters most to him, namely her?

Keep Reading to Find Out

Next Chapter: With the petrified victims restored, Hermione sees more evidence of what sort of 'greatness' Damian Drake is capable of, while, as the rest of the school celebrates, the Demon-Child Dragon Sorcerer receives an interesting missive…and, guess what? It's addressed to Damian Drake!

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