36 (Accidentally a Dragon)

"Harry! Harry! Come on, Harry! Wake up!" Harry's calm ears were being vastly vibrated as the sound waves of Ron's rough voice penetrated into his ear canal.

Reluctantly, Harry got out of bed, stretching his numb arms into the air.

"If you don't hurry up, we're going to be late," barked Ron, who was trying his best to untie the stuck knot on his shoe laces. Eventually, with the aid of a little bit of magic, he managed his goal, and soon zoomed in the air, dashing out of the boys' dormitory.

"As if you even care about being late," muttered Harry softly to himself.

As he got up, he felt a warm sensation crawl into his heart. The warm, friendly, and encouraging voices that he had heard last night in his head had a great effect on him. It virtually made Harry trust himself and have faith. He kept recalling his mother's sweet voice, so warm that he could almost taste it with his own tongue. And then, he stared into a mirror, observing his looks. Just like dad- Harry thought. Then, a little grin formed on his mouth, reminding him of the late Sirius. Together, James, Lily, and Sirius kept on popping in Harry's mind, gaining him the strength and power he yearns for.

A few minutes later, Harry grabbed the sword of Anystal and placed it carefully inside his robes. His wand sank through the immense black fabric, and he was off for another eventful day.

On his way, Harry noticed something rather unusual happening. Behind a stature of two wizards sharing the same body but without heads, Harry caught a glimpse of a furry ginger tail. Curiously, he scooted closer, intending to discover what was going on. To his total amazement, he saw Crookshanks wagging his tail high up, making a soft drone of a purr. And what made it even more surprising was that Mrs. Norris, Mr. Filch's dear cat, was right in front of him, lowering her head. Harry grinned, stunned by such queer outcome. Was Crookshanks beginning to like mean old Mrs. Norris? It could be…

A good while later, Harry entered the crammed Great Hall, a simple smile curved on his mouth. He forced his way through the immense throng, nearly tripping over Sandra Sanderson's shoe lace. A gleam of red hair finally came to his sight, and by that, he knew it was where he belonged.

"Hey Ron," spoke Harry amicably, "I've got something brilliant to tell you."

"What'?" Ron was chewing on some toothsome sausage.

"Crookshanks," mumbled Harry, grinning.

"The bloody hair ball…yeah, what about him?" asked Ron, disgusted by the foul name.

"I think he's gone mad," acknowledged Harry, his voice dropping into monotone.

"How so?" came a soft voice out of nowhere. The two boys looked up, and before them stood Hermione, awaiting a reasonable answer.

"Um…why were you eavesdropping?" queried Ron in an innocent voice, for he found no other sensible phrase to speak.

"Excuse me, but I happen to be the owner of that cat," chattered Hermione, sitting down, "but why's he mad, Harry?"

Harry was swallowing rather a heavy lump in his trembling throat. He was virtually in a dilemma now. If he told her, he thought that she'll lose her pet cat forever. Yet, as he thought again, if he didn't tell her, he'd be keeping a secret that would somehow confuse her.

"Should I tell?" questioned Harry, smiling bashfully at Ron.

"You don't need to ask him," commented Hermione, grinning, "I'm allowing you to speak up right now."

She turned her Arithmancy book to page five hundred and fourteen, while simultaneously listening closely to Harry.

"Very well," he began uneasily, "I ran into Crookshanks earlier this morning…not crashing into him, but….oh well, sneaked," admitted Harry awkwardly, slightly feeling remorseful.

"Go on, my ears are still with you," declared Hermione confidently, as her eyes moved like turbo speed from sentence to sentence.

"Anyway," continued Harry, squeezing some ketchup out of the bottle, and eyeing Ron, "I saw your cat…with Mrs. Norris."

Instantly, Hermione stopped her concentration on reading, and somehow abruptly averted her eyes, shifting to Harry, looking at him in total disbelief.

"Did he injure her? Did he bite her? Oh if something terrible happens to her Mr. Filch will skin Crookshanks till certain death…" she seemed so worried and apprehensive about her cat being vicious or savage.

"No, of course not," assured Harry, throwing a fit of giggles, "on the contrary, there seemed to be…some kind of intimacy between the pair of them."

Now, if Harry was not utterly mistaken, Hermione's widened like the horizon, her eyebrows rose, and her jaw fell wide open.

"Are you sure?" she inquired, incredulously.

"Positive," confirmed Harry, giggling as a smattering of peach pancake entered his mouth.

"Why that's brilliant! Absolutely fantastic!" cried Hermione, rejoicing.

"What? Are you insane?" shrieked Ron, choking on his sour pumpkin juice.

"That would be great, wouldn't it? Clever Crookshanks! I can't wait to see his cute cuddly little kittens!" quacked Hermione, overly excited.

"Are you out of your mind? He's got himself hooked up with an old, rotten, mean, no good, red eyed hag!" screeched Ron, sharing his point of view.

"Oh Ron stop this rubbish! I assure you that if you've still had Scabbers alive, and he found a mate, you would surely feel the same!" growled Hermione indignantly.

"Well, I would certainly not. After all, he turned out to be a great fraud, didn't he?" argued Ron, breaking his direct eye contact with Hermione, returning gladly to his unfinished meal.

Harry heard Hermione mumble something quietly under her breath, as she resumed reading.

Suddenly, hoots came from everywhere in the Great Hall. It was mail time, and owls convoyed down to the house tables.

A load of grey, red, and brown owls bypassed, until finally, Harry saw as shimmering white owl of amber eyes, Hedwig, heading his way.

She dropped a copy of the Daily Prophet, and scurried away to the school Owlery for some rest.

The first thing that caught Harry's eyes in a flash of microseconds was the headline.

FEAR IN HOGSMEADE GONE AT LAST

Only yesterday, writes Rita Skeeter, 45, the Ministry of Magic had informed the numerous villagers, shopkeepers, and residents of Hogsmeade village that their piece of land was safe once again. It's been quite a while since the Ministry announced the presence of a vicious, mass murderer, a Death Eater, by the name of Antonin Dolohov, at Hogsmeade. For the past few weeks, he had gladly taken refuge in a recently build shop, The Golden Wheezer Jokeshop. After days and days of threatening, no one heard no more. The case remains mysteriously resolved.

Now, miraculously, Dolohov has disappeared from sights to all's relief, bringing back soothing serene sensations of normalcy. It was reported that Antonin Dolohov had the intentions to demolish Hogsmeade village into smithereens- for a while- but we were wrong. Little of us know what purpose the Death Eater came for. Yet, the majority of citizens have a shrewd idea that it had definitely something to do with the service of He Who Must Not Be Named. Furthermore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and current Minister for Magic, Albus Dumbledore, assures everyone to resume their business.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were so happy to read this bit of news. Simultaneously, they thought that Professor Dumbledore denied something about the role they played. Or morel likely, it was Ron who was slightly indignant. He thought that the Order should have told him something.

"Wow, at least Percy could enjoy the last remaining days of his honeymoon," chuckled Hermione.

"But what's more shocking is the name in the article," pointed out Ron, indicating Rita Skeeter.

"And I thought she kept her promise, Hermione," argued Harry, mystified, borrowing a copy of The Quibbler from Dean Thomas.

"Well, frankly she did. At least it's not a bunch of lies and made up stories put all together in an absurd way of writing," explained Hermione, still glancing at the name.

More or less, it reminded her of fourth year. Rita Skeeter, who happened to be a cunning Daily Prophet reporter, had a bad habit of reporting lies and non existing events. Of course, what made Hermione more apprehensive was that Rita had listened to the most private conversations, and yet, at that time, Hermione had not the slightest idea how she managed it. At the end of the year, however, cleverly, Hermione discovered that Rita Skeeter was an illegal Animagus, or perhaps, one that didn't register in the Ministry. She had the form of a little beetle, and the markings on her antennas were very identical to those that lay on her glasses. Eventually, Hermione sealed the beetle in a jar, assured that she won't be able to transform by means of an Unbreakable Charm.

"But who got her back into writing?" questioned Ron, still perplexed.

"Oh come now, Ron," muttered Harry, irritably, "she did us a favour last year when we told her to write about me and Voldemort."

Ron winced at the name.

An old man arose from his chair, gazing at the crowd from behind his half-moon spectacles.

"Your attention please," squeaked Professor McGonagall.

Every eye was drawn to the Headmaster.

"Thank you Minerva," said Dumbledore amicably, "I would like to announce a change in plans. Due to the current safety of Hogsmeade, as probably many of you should've known by now from the newspapers, I see no harm in a visit."

The whole lot of students was crying out loud: yeah. They looked so relieved and cheerful.

"Yes, cheer up," continued the Headmaster through his warm soothing voice," but I'd like to notify you that the next trip is scheduled to be on the fourteenth of February, as the staff and I had previously planned."

Virtually, all girls started looking around at boys, who in turn, grinned.

Professor Dumbledore nearly sank back into his seat, when something else came to his mind.

"Ah, listen everyone," he said, "although the circumstances allow you to visit the village, I must assure you…constant vigilance is of fundamental need…evil and danger will always be lurking around. Therefore, take my word, and be cautious."

That last statement he announced might've raised the feelings of anxiety and apprehension in some nervous souls. What seemed like despair ruined the joy in a couple of students.

"Constant vigilance? He's sounding like Mad-Eye, now," pointed out Harry.

"And I think he's forgetting something else," said Ron, eyeing Harry and Hermione in a mysterious kind of way.

"What?" asked Harry, rather intrigued.

"Us! Has Tonks told him nothing of what we have done?" wondered Ron.

"How do you know she hasn't?" questioned Hermione.

"Be thankful, Ron," affirmed Harry earnestly, "if Dumbledore knew, he'd lock us in our dormitories and ban us from exiting the school, fearful of losing our necks."

"Yeah, but why is he so Ok with it? Don't we deserve an award or something?"

"Honestly, Ron, all you aim for is a taste of fame. Why are you acting like a hero or something? Besides, we got trapped in the end, didn't we? We got made fools of by Dolohov. Had not Tonks showed up, we could've been stuck in there for ages," argued Hermione matter-of-factly, shutting her Arithmancy book.

"So? You came up with a brilliant idea, and it worked," gossiped Ron.

"What about Dolohov? Did we capture him, Ron? Did we hand him over to the Dementors? And your brothers…we didn't cure them, we just brought them back safely."

"That counts for something!"

"Ron!"

Harry's hands flew in the air, covering both of their mouths.

"Haven't we agreed previously to stop absurd arguments like this?" he asked, merely through gritted teeth.

They hushed up after shooting glares at each other for a while.

"Now, what exactly are we going to do on the fourteenth of February?" questioned Harry to be reassured.

"Well, we're going to Hogsmeade for Valentine's Day," muttered Ron briskly, "and…that's it."

"Are you forgetting something, Ron?" inquired Hermione, pulling her hair into a ponytail.

"No," responded Ron, still thinking of a way to avoid trouble.

"It's something we fought over and over about," lisped Hermione, and when it hit Ron, he spoke again.

"Oh…right, Winky," reminded Ron amicably, but disappointed from the inside.

Truly, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had gone over this more than a dozen times, and yet, Ron still despised the idea of visiting a mad mania. However, he knew that he carried furthermore with his stubbornness, Hermione would do her nut, and their friendship would become strained.

"Good morning class," spoke Harry, grinning at the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff fourth years.

"Good morning…Harry," replied the crowd in a loud voice; they intended to call him 'Professor' but they knew he was too young to be called one. Besides, it was his wish to call him by his name only.

Harry walked slowly to his desk, trying to remember the topic of today's lesson. In a flick of a second it hit him.

"Now, we have previously tried out Shield Charms, have we not?" queried Harry, beaming at the class.

"Yes," they chanted back.

"Well, today, we shall be learning two other spells that you use to defend yourselves," explained Harry earnestly, "you might call them charms…or spells…well whatever…what's more important is that you need to prefect them."

Every eye was intrigued, and soft laughter was sounded. The students were used to Harry's frequent sense of humour, except that sometimes he wasn't in the mood for it.

"Who here knows something about the Reducto curse?" requested Harry, having a feeling that somebody might be as shy as Neville to speak the answer.

And there he was, crouched in his seat, Michael Archy.

"Michael, do you know the answer?" asked Harry amicably, having a flashback of Neville who was just about to tangle with a Boggart in the first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson in third year.

"I…I think so," squeaked the boy, sitting upright, "the Reducto curse is used to blast away solid objects…possibly."

Harry was virtually impressed by his succinct answer.

"Marvelous, Michael. Ten points to Ravenclaw!" chattered Harry fervently.

After the students were done clapping, Harry grabbed his wand for a quick demonstration.

"Sometimes in life, Aurors, Dark wizard catchers, that is to say," reported Harry solemnly, "face solid objects that stand as impediments, obstacles in their way. Those obstacles will need to be moved to make the Auror free to act. By the way, this doesn't just concern Aurors, but everyone…every magical person who finds themselves in terrible trouble."

With a hasty wave of his wand, Harry summoned a box that was placed on the top shelf of a cabinet, and then set on the ground.

"Watch closely," instructed Harry as he raised his wand higher in the air. "Reducto!"

Immediately, a jet red spark of light shot out of the tip of his wand, and hit the box. Instantly, the box was transported all the way across the room to the left corner of the classroom.

"See? Quite easy, huh?" commented Harry sentimentally. "It's essential to have the curse come out from the bottom of your heart, students. Also, try your best to focus your concentration on the object moving away from its original place."

The message seemed sensible enough to the students.

"Now, who would like to have a go?" Harry posed a question, glancing at the tense-like students. "Samantha Elly, over here please."

The Hufflepuff girl looked so embarrassed and nervous, although she knew that it was a piece of cake.

Hastily, but anxiously, she scurried along the aisle, shooting some of her friends dull looks, coming up front.

"That's it, right in this spot," Harry directed her to stand on the X he had drawn with his wand, "see that cage over there?"

"Yes," she responded after eyeing a rusty old worn bird-cage.

"I want you to blast it away all over to that chest," said Harry, turning her eyesight away.

She nodded, and took out her wand. For a second, she seemed reluctant. Her mouth opened but the incantation wouldn't come out.

"Give it a try, Samantha," mentioned Harry briskly, "you won't lose your neck."

Her wand rose two inches above the level of her neck, and she was utterly ready.

"Reducto!" she roared loudly, and within heartbeats, a beam of red light was released from her wand. She looked at the still box, while simultaneously imagining its movement to the chest. Then it worked. Once the red light touched the surface of the box, it began spinning, and like lightning, it flew to the chest.

"Well done, Samantha! Ten points to Hufflepuff!" cheered Harry joyfully.

At the very same instant, there was applause.

"Allright, now we'll move on to the next brand of magic," notified Harry, "it's called the Impediment Jinx."

There was a murmur of interest amongst the students.

"Does anybody have a background about it?"

"Yes sir," came a high pitched excited voice, the voice of Wallace Peterson. arHarrHjjjdlkdkdk

"Go on," mumbled Harry.

"It's used to slow down motion of objects that are usually heading in one's way. I've read it in the Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4," he explained thoroughly.

"Nice," Harry beamed, thinking of him as a younger version of Hermione, "five points to Ravenclaw!"

Cheers emerged from every corner, and Wallace had a smile running up his cheeks.

"Now, a performance," informed Harry looking for a volunteer, "Miss Rose, up here if you don't mind."

A girl with spiky but cool neck length blonde hair, by the name of Bell Rose, left her seat deserted, marching ahead.

"So Bell, you do know how to perform as simple Stunning spell, don't you?" he interrogated.

"Yes sir," replied the girl.

"Good. I want you to Stun me now," joked Harry, grinning.

"Sir?" she asked perplexed, thinking how foolish it would be to Stun a teacher.

"You heard," responded Harry, leaning against his desk and clutching his wand tightly.

Reluctantly, Bell stepped back and took her wand out of her robes. She was hesitating, fearful of any harsh consequence.

"On with it," said Harry impatiently.

"Stupefy!" cried Bell Rose, as a jet red beam of light struck out of her wand.

"IMPEDIMENTA!" bellowed Harry in a very loud voice, and everyone saw a beam of bluish purple light shooting out of his wand.

The observation was not obscure but vivid clear in nanoseconds. As soon as the bluish purple light made contact with the red one, it began to gradually decrease its pace. Moreover, the Impediment jinx demolished the speed of the Stunning spell, which never harmed Harry.

"Deletrius!" muttered Harry, quite a while after the students witnessed the red beam of light hovering slowly in the air.

"Good work, Bell," mentioned Harry, returning her to her seat again, "now, what did you think of that?"

Sighs emerged, followed by wide grins.

"Should stop any mummies, Blast-Ended Skrewts, or Dementors from attacking you," giggled Harry, placing his wand back in his robes.

Shortly after that, Harry had the students form a line. The one at the front was assigned to block any spells, hexes, charms or jinxes aimed at him by means of the Impediment jinx.

The first to have a go at it was a Ravenclaw with combed brown wavy hair and a pair of sky-blue eyeglasses, William Frank. He had Harry right behind him for encouragement, and put some confidence in himself. Over and over, William faced all sorts of magic, repelling any spells, curses, hexes, charms, or jinxes by utilizing the effective Impediment jinx, slowing down their rate. Except in the end, a clever, or more likely cunning boy from Hufflepuff, Samwise Flemming, had intended to cast fire on William, only at the very last instant, he changed his mind into Stunning him. Poor William; he was totally deceived, and consequently, he had two beams of jet red light penetrate his chest. Immediately, he fell to the floor, groaning in pain; his eyeglasses fell off, and the glass virtually shattered. His honey-brown wavy hair came scratching his eyelids. More or less, William had been knocked out.

"See here," mouthed Harry, "it wasn't William's fault, nor was it Sam's. Many wizards and witches all around this world would possess tricky minds…cunning enough to tap you right where they want you."

Speedily, Harry kneeled down to the unconscious boy.

"Enervate!" at once, William was revived. For ten seconds or so, he was kind of lost, staring around him as though he didn't recall what happened to him two minutes ago. It was so conspicuous from his looks that he was in deep confusion. He brushed his hair out of his eyes, squinting to see only Harry's blur.

"Reparo!" muttered Harry, mending the boy's eyeglasses. Quickly, the remnants of the broken glass pulled themselves together, making it appear as good as new.

"Thanks…" murmured William softly, putting on his mended glasses.

Before he could even get up, Harry summoned a jewelry box left over from the days of Gilderoy Lockhart, who had been Harry's Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher in his second year; all he ever cared about was himself. Magically, Harry unlocked it, and took out a piece of chocolate among a very big collection of sweets.

"Here, have a bite, William," instructed Harry, amicably offering the chocolate bar to the boy, "it will only help you get better. No one blames you for your lapse; it happens all the time."

The nervous boy gradually ate the chocolate and got up on his feet with the aid of Harry. Off to his seat he returned. For some seconds, Harry threw the chocolate wrapper into a dustbin nearby his desk, and magically forced he jewelry box to its original place.

"Very well, everyone," said Harry clearly, "so far today, you've learnt two of the major incantations of fundamental importance, the Reducto curse, and the Impediment jinx. They are no doubt necessary and helpful to use whenever Dark magic is around. Furthermore, I should say that as beginners, I am rather impressed with your…"

THUD!

Harry heard something crash into the classroom's door. From the immense impact, Harry had a shrewd idea that whatever hit the door was something large and vastly heavy.

"Everyone, move behind me," notified Harry, still eyeing the door. Some wood pieces were torn out of the door, falling like rain to the floor.

Obediently, the vexed students scooted around the classroom, leaving behind their belongings and books, convoying behind Harry and congregating around his desk.

Carefully, holding up his wand, Harry proceeded to the door. As soon as he stretched out his hand to grab the doorknob, he found the whole door falling over him. Luckily, Harry managed to crawl away hastily backwards. He could distinctly hear the shrieks and gasps of the fourth years, but he could not see properly. The problem was that, unfortunately, his glasses slipped away.

"AAAAARGH!" came the loud cries from behind him.

Harry felt a strong urge and curiosity to know what was frightening them. He was desperate to reach his glasses, so he started moving around in circles on the floor, eyeing nothing but a blur of colors and images. At last, he caught a glimpse of his reflection through something that looked like a small mirror. Speedily, Harry snatched his glasses from the middle, set it on his eyes, and sighed when he heard a scary heavy breath.

Slowly and cautiously, as he turned around, Harry was absolutely astounded. Before him stood an eight feet tall dragon. It had sharp terrifying yellow eyes, with slits, like a cat's, for pupils. Overall, it had a scarlet bloody color for the scaly body. What Harry noticed more to that was two green razor sharp horns sticking out from its head. The scales that were displayed had sort of the sea-wave pattern. A long strong tail was moving rapidly behind the dragon's back.

Quickly, as if seeking vengeance, the great dragon forced its way through the tight classroom, wrecking the place and shattering every table and chair that stood in its way. Textbooks and bags came flying into the air, much like a fountain's water.

Scared though he was, Harry had responsibility over the horrified students. As a teacher, he knew he had to act and do something to get rid of this horrid shock.

Suddenly, the big hideous reptile-like creature widened its mouth, revealing the pitch blackness from the inside. Harry discerned something like a small flame that was expanding in size. He was correct; the dragon shot a ball of flames that must've been three feet in diameter.

"IMPEDIMENTA!" shouted Harry, automatically slowing down the attacking fire.

He did succeed, only that enraged the furious dragon even more. It indignantly brought out its huge thick tail, carrying Harry about six feet above the ground, and then smashing his back on the harsh floor. Harry couldn't help but wince, groan, and moan with excruciating pain. He felt as if his spine split in two halves. Yet, he rolled on the floor, staring at the paralyzed students, his eyes begging for some help.

If Hagrid was the one who let loose this dragon, thought Harry, I'll kill him.

Helplessly, he rushed to the front, intending to protect his students by all means necessary, even if it required sacrificing himself.

The dragon was now bending down on all fours, preparing for a sudden attack. Simultaneously, Harry kept focusing on what to do. His mind was utterly puzzled, and he had no idea how to act. And then, a rather obscure but brilliant idea was floating to his trembling head. He knew he could use it. Otherwise, Harry and the students could inevitably be toasted by the dragon's flames.

"PROTEGO!" Harry yelled out the first thing to come to his mind.

It happened to be the helpful Shield Charm. At once, an invisible protecting wall covered him and the students, surrounding them all.

The dragon's fury had perfectly increased, and he was flapping his large leather-like wings, conjuring what seemed like a destructive hurricane.

Harry knew that he couldn't hold up much longer; he needed help as soon as possible…

Momentarily, his prayers were answered.

"GOOD HEAVENS!" shrieked an old lady with a sharp terrified voice.

When Harry looked through the barrier, he saw Professor McGonagall waving her wand briskly, pointing it at the dragon's back. She was horrorstruck.

What she had done was of course to Harry's aid; she Transfigured the savage dragon into a little harmless white bunny.

"Oh Potter! Are you allright?" she questioned in a shaky voice, watching the bunny hop out of the wrecked classroom.

"I'm…fine, and so are the students," responded Harry weakly. Although he managed to repel the vast flame ball, he suffered severe interior bruises and wounds. The pain was stinging like a kiss of cold. Harry wasn't able to walk freely, thus he was staggering.

"Come with me, Potter," babbled Professor McGonagall hotly, wrapping his arm around her old stiff shoulders and at the same time shooting the fourth years horrorstruck looks, "everyone…class dismissed."

As Professor McGonagall gently escorted Harry to the Hospital Wing, she explained the reason behind the dragon's presence in his class.

"Forgive me, Potter…that dragon came from my classroom," she said, as she watched some Hufflepuffs bypass them.

"From…your class, Professor?" he asked in a stunned voice, trying to be polite.

"Yes, Potter," she responded hastily, "I was demonstrating how to magically hatch an egg, revealing a one legged chicken. I did succeed and everyone was satisfied, but then, when it was their turn to try…oh, mercy…Mr. Malfoy did something wrong."

"Purposefully, I suppose," suggested Harry, grimacing.

"One simple mistake in the direction of the wand movement and clarity of his voice was enough for a wicked outcome," she explained indignantly, "we ended up having a loose dragon in the room. Mind you, it was only baby-sized when it first hatched, but we eye witnessed it growing rapidly as it headed to the door…it nearly didn't get out of the door. I tried to Stun it, but of course, you would need half a dozen people at least to Stun a dragon that size. It escaped my eyes before I even knew it, and…"

"…broke into my classroom," he finished off her sentence.

"I'm terribly sorry Potter," confessed Professor McGonagall, yet again, "I would've never forgiven myself if you got hurt….things just got out of my hands!"

"It's allright…really, Professor. You shouldn't be taunting yourself…it's Malfoy who deserves a fair chastisement," he moaned, grinning.

"Yes…yes, perhaps it was his fault," she merely agreed with his point, "I might as well deduct some points from his house! I can't stand the way he means sabotage!"

Deep down, Harry was more or less glad that Malfoy was going to cost his house a few points. Still, it didn't cure his pain.

Gently, Professor McGonagall set Harry on a bed in the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey came dashing between the two rows of beds.

"What's the matter Minerva?"

"A dragon…" she hesitated, "it injured him all over from the inside…I think he's broken some limbs."

The school matron's rigid old face went instantly pale.

"A dragon?" she gasped. "Here at Hogwarts?"

"It's a long story, Poppy!" interrupted Professor McGonagall heatedly. "Now, could you fix his problem here?"

"Certainly," she muttered, pressing on Harry's rib cage.

"OUCH!" he winced, as he felt a wave of spasm run through his bones.

"Mmm…broken limb," observed the matron, moving her stiff hand to Harry's back.

"Ow! That hurt!"

"Aha, spine disorder…right here," she concluded, "well, I've got just what you need, Potter."

She skedaddled away to a storage cabinet, taking out a big silvery bottle having an orange top, in addition to a mug and a thin stirrer.

When she came back to the bed, Harry was holding himself together, for the pain was no doubt unbearable. Hastily, she poured thick orange syrup out of the bottle into the glass. Momentarily, it began evaporating. She stuck in the stirrer, and the color altered into glimmering emerald green.

"Better drink it up while the bubbles are coming out, Potter. Drink it all at once," directed Madam Pomfrey, forcing the glass up Harry's mouth.

Desperate for an immediate cure, Harry's tongue received the thick orange liquid and pulled it back to his rough throat. He didn't feel the taste, but instead kept rushing it down to his esophagus. Then, when there was scarcely left liquid, the taste came to Harry's mind. His brain sent messages to his wet tongue, informing him that what he had just drank was absolutely foul. The orange liquid's taste was much composed of rotten bananas, spoiled eggs, raw beef, and possibly other magical solutions. That was one good reason why he loathed being in such place.

Eventually, Harry managed to empty the glass, leaving some drops on the surrounding walls of it.

"Sweet dreams," murmured Madam Pomfrey, snatching his glass, leaving him to himself.

He didn't get it at first, but then instantly knew what was happening to him. Evidently, he felt some dizziness in his head. A sleepy sensation came on. Tired as he was, Harry's eyes slowly went down, blocking all lights; he was fast asleep.

"Harry…Harry, mate, wake up," he heard an anxious voice shaking his ears.

The curtains of his sleepy eyes were lifted up, and then he saw two friends sitting on either side of him on the bed.

"How are you feeling, Harry? Allright?" that was Hermione's voice.

He didn't feel like talking, therefore Harry just nodded his head in agreement.

"We came as soon as we hear," notified Ron briskly, providing some support to Harry as he sat up, "McGonagall was so furious with Malfoy that she could've turned him into a stinking pig if she desired!"

"Yeah, he's got himself landed in detention for five evenings," chattered Hermione, a grin of satisfaction on her face.

"That ought to teach him a lesson," moaned Harry, winking. "Did he get angry?"

"No," quacked Ron, giggling, "he kept denying that it was his fault. He said that it was an accident."

"Originally, McGonagall put him in detention for tomorrow's evening only," laughed Hermione, "but as he kept on talking, she added more evenings to extend the period of time. He was so red!"

Harry was in a fit of soft giggles, very impressed with his teacher's reaction.

"So, is it true what we heard? Is your classroom total trash by now?" joked Ron, insensitively.

"That's no laughing matter, Ron," argued Hermione, "Harry and the students could've been slain. Speaking of which, what happened to them, Harry?"

"Them?" asked Harry. "They got luck enough to not have a single scratch on their cheeks."

"How so?" queried Ron, intrigued.

"Well, before McGonagall showed up late for the show, I couldn't have let the students get killed, could've I? No, I risked my own neck protecting them…"

"How noble," commented Hermione.

"…I repelled the flame ball it tossed at me with the Impediment jinx. But then, cunningly, it hit me with its tail. I thought I was in heaven when the shark spikes didn't touch me…then, when I found no other way to stop him, I tried the Shield Charm. It worked for a minute, but then I was on my nerves…McGonagall came lagging after the dragon, and she Transfigured him into a rabbit."
"Whoa!" whispered Ron, fascinated.

"It's a wonder you didn't get killed," murmured Hermione in relief.

Later in the afternoon, when Harry, Ron, and Hermione had their last lesson of the day, Care of Magical Creatures, Hagrid seized Harry from his arm, and pushed him hastily into his cabin.

"Easy…" muttered Harry, rubbing his arm.

"Are ya allright, Harry? I was so worried when Professor McGonagall told me! I thought I left one of me dragons chain-loose, an' it attacked ya!"

"One of your dragons?" asked Hermione, perplexed.

"Have you got a collection?" added Ron. "Hagrid, don't tell me Norbert is fully grown now, and decided to do Harry in."

"O'course not, Ron," objected Hagrid, "I don' have no dragons…anyway, she then told me abou' Malfoy…"

"So, what do you think?" inquired Harry sarcastically.

"What do I think? Harry, ya nearly got yerself ripped in half by the ruddy beast. Grown up dragons don' do no good…they jest hunt for meals, and can be really vicious 'round youngsters like you three," grunted Hagrid matter-of-factly.

"Had it been you Hagrid, you would've been delighted to pet the dragon, right?" joked Ron, as Hermione nudged him in the ribs. Honestly, he didn't mean any offense.

Shortly after the safety lecture from their big friend, Harry, Ron, and Hermione exited through the front door, saying goodbye, heading to the castle.

"Hagrid's so obsessed with dragons he thinks he's got a herd of them in the Forbidden Forest," giggled Ron; Harry and Hermione joined him in laughing.