Penndragonne

By Tashasaphi

Chapter 4

Disclaimer: J.K Rowling owns her characters. I own mine. We have a legal settlement and everything.

Year 6 and all is not well at Hogwarts. After a devastating attack on the castle, the world is turned topsy turvy for the work-stressed Harry, and he finds a new light in a new companion…

WARNINGS: SLASH ON THE WAY. Do you think I'll get away with it on here? searches hurriedly for some hosting ;;

A/N

Hrm, what to expect of this chapter? Halloween is on the way, and on this fine Monday morning, Harry and his so far nameless pet have to face the trials and tribulations of three whole lessons! Eep! Well, since I am evil, you can bet it won't be easy. ENJOY!

'Every Monday!' Hermione snarled. 'Every single Monday, you two are entirely incapable of getting up and getting ready on time!' The three of them were hurrying along the corridors and down, deeper and down into the clammy dungeons for a double helping of potions. Ron groaned breathlessly.

'If you're…' he panted, 'really so bloody used to it, 'mione,' he huffed, 'you might do the decent thing and MAKE SURE WE GET UP!'

'That is not my responsibility,' she snapped back as Harry peered miserably into his bag as they sped along, 'what do I look like? Your mother?' Ron snorted indignantly.

'If you're gonna complain every bloody week,' he snapped, 'then like the little heroine you are, you should jolly well get us up! You're always ready in plenty of time, anyway!'

'I am NOT a heroine!' Hermione hissed. 'And after six years here, I would have thought you two could at least get up on time! It's not like the timetables changed, and…' Hermione turned to see Harry standing still in the middle of the corridor, about ten feet back. 'Harry, what the hell are you doing?' Harry looked up sorrowfully.

'He won 't wake up,' he mumbled miserably.

'What?'

'You haven't killed it ALREADY!' Ron exclaimed. Hermione elbowed him. He growled.

'It's not dead,' said Harry, catching up. 'It's just… spark out.' He lifted the tiny silvery creature out of his bag and showed him to Ron. As he had said, it was limp as a rag, it's tiny body inflating and deflating slowly, his nostrils opening and closing like tiny vents. Hermione lifted it's head and stared at it for a while.

'It's not off colour,' she said after a brief pause. 'I don't think it's sick. Maybe… maybe it's just tired.' With that she dashed off down the stairs, calling for them to hurry up. Ron looked at Harry sympathetically and shrugged, before following. Harry watched him go, sighed mournfully, tucked the sleeping body away inside an accommodating pocket in his bag and jogged after them down the dark, dank staircase.

Cramped into the chilled dungeon, Harry was for once glad of the large numbers in the class since the sports and general medi magic classes had joined the tiny potions class. It meant that there was no elbow room for any one, and some desks had been added to the room up by Snape's desk. Perish the thought that they should sit there! Harry shuddered at the thought. Malfoy and his cronies had sat up there, but since the incident… well, Blaise had relocated to the main group since Draco was bunking lessons or in the hospital wing, and Pansy, of course, was at St Mungos. Hermione was animatedly chatting with said present Slytherin, while Ron grimaced and Harry poked the dozing critter in his bag with his wand hopelessly. It breathed deeply, but showed no other sign of life. Harry sighed.

'Page 335 in your textbooks,' a cool voice said, and suddenly the room was silent, the sound of boot heels cutting through the void with the precise cold rhythm of the knife on the chopping board. With a swish the black board scribbled itself the potion method- a dream revealing tonic of some sort, Harry wasn't really paying attention- and Snape appeared past the crammed rows of unenthusiastic students.

'Here we go again,' murmured Blaise. Hermione giggled. Ron scowled.

'You must follow this method exactly,' Snape drawled. 'Your textbooks will provide you with advice on how to handle in ingredients. Front row will collect their ingredients first. Keep an eye on the time.' He narrowed his eyes. 'This potion, though important practise for all of you, is not difficult. However, all the ingredients provide careful preparation. Before we move onto potions more… integral to the course,' he glared a pair of Hufflepuffs who were talking. 'I need proof that you can at least make handle the ingredients. Concentration is the key. Begin.'

'Cheerful as ever,' Ron sneered. Harry hummed in agreement, but lifted the Penndragonne from his bag and hid it from Snape's view behind the high lip of the potions bench.

'Good lord!' Blaise hissed, 'where did you get that from?'

'Mister Zabini…' Snape hissed. Blaise nodded to him curtly and their row of four filed out and gathered all the necessaries.

'I got it for him as a present,' Hermione confirmed quietly. The room hummed with quiet conversation. Snape seemed to be reading something very avidly. 'Well… caught it, actually.'

'I'm impressed, Granger,' Blaise drawled. 'Can't have been easy-'

'Why not!' snapped Ron. Snape glared, but went back to his reading. Blaise raised an eyebrow.

'Because Penndragonnes avoid capture like no other beast alive,' he explained sardonically. 'And ones not been seen, feral, this far north for at least 20 years.'

'Oh,' Ron managed, and Hermione and Blaise swept past him, back to their seats, chatting about creative magic. Ron, flushed, followed, and Harry hurried after him, but to no avail. The reptile lay prone, just as he had left it.

'Dozy fellow, isn't he?' Blaise commented. Harry smiled weakly and nodded in response, before Charming his quill to note down the method and tick things off as he did them.

Like most potions classes, this particular Monday the lesson dragged like no other, and Harry felt that end of the day sleepiness by the time he set his potion up for the final boil. Snape, having finished one reading task, had set about replying to it and Charmed the reply away, and was now reading his next long scroll. Harry set back in his chair and gazed into space for a while, the bubbling of cauldrons and hot, sleepy atmosphere lulling him. A hand trailed to where the creature should have been, but trailed across hard wood. Harry jumped and nearly upset his as-of-yet unwashed pestle and mortar of crumbly staining powders.

'Where-' Harry never finished his hissed sentence, and he felt his face blanching. Climbing up the table cloth of Snape's desk was a wriggling silver creature, ever so close to the top, determined looking and swift.

'Harry, isn't that…' Ron trailed off and gestured. Most of the other students were beginning to 'oo' and 'aa' and giggle at the little beast.

'Uhuh,' Harry swallowed hard as the tiny creatures claws grazed at the stack of books and papers in front of Snape.

'Call it back then!' Ron nudged him.

'Don't use the bracelet!' Hermione hissed desperately. 'What if he knocks over your potion pot?'

'Go and get him, quick, before Snape-'

'What's going on?' Snape snarled, standing up. 'You could be studying your textbooks, not idly chatting like old ladies…' Snape trailed off as he watched a silver smudge reach the top of his desk and shake itself out. 'What's this…?' Reaching out tentatively, he picked up the panting creature by the scruff of the neck. It shrieked in shock and surprise and writhed like a trapped viper. Snape raised up to near his face, to study it, and watching at it's head lashed within reach of his fingers, but did not bite, merely postured and hissed. 'Arrogant, violent beast.' He smirked. 'it wouldn't be yours, would it, Potter?' Some of the students laughed. Harry groaned.

'Yes, sir,' he said soullessly. The penndragonne wriggled around to look at Snape, and it suddenly seemed to light up, chattering animatedly and fixing with it's powerful silvery gaze.

'Amazing,' Snape purred coldly, 'how animals are so often like their…' he paused hatefully, 'masters.' He dropped the animal onto the desk, where it yelped indignantly, puffing smoke through it's nose, before coughing a little. Harry stood up quickly and raised his wand.

'Don't you raise your wand at me, boy,' Snape snapped.

'I was just-' Harry protested, but Snape's glare was final. Defeated, a little embarrassed, and now worried, he sat down. The dragon keened horribly, pawing at Snape, goggling at him, whimpering and crying to him, but he seemed undeterred.

'Your potions should be simmering now,' sure enough, most of them were. 'They won't be at full strength yet, but that's probably best knowing who we're dealing with.' Harry and Ron scowled. 'Collect a sample and bring it to my desk. Quickly!' The students lazily began their work again, but Harry was distracted by the crying and clicking of the little Dragon running around on Snape's desk. After about ten minutes, everyone was seated again. The potions ranged from Hermione's and Blaise's swirling semi transparent blue, right through to Ron's purple and Millicent's Green. Snape sighed critically. He raised a white vial.

'This is the antidote to the Dream oracle potion. It's name is White Reality. Those on my advanced course,' he glared at Harry, 'will learn how to make this more complex potion at a later date. I will use this to bring back our test subject from whatever horrors await it at the end of your… substances.' He sneered, and raised a sallow hand, clutching the downcast looking Penndragonne.

'No!' Harry protested.

'That's animal cruelty!' another voice popped up.

'If mister Potter sees fit to bring his pet into my classroom,' Snape smirked, 'then he should be willing to have it participate in my lesson plan.' With that he placed a pipette into a random test tube (Harry thanked his lucky stars that it was at least blue and transparent) and pinched open the Dragon's tiny mouth. The creature writhed and wailed, obviously horrified.

'Professor!' Harry protested again, but was ignored, and watched hopelessly as blue liquor splashed into the narrow mouth. After about 5 drops, Snape released the Dragon, and it scuttled off his desk, only to drop hard to the floor, prompting Harry to jump up, but it righted itself and snarled hatefully. Mid growl, it hiccoughed. Everyone leaned a little closer. It started to shivver a little, and it's pupils manically dilating, until they swallowed both of the silvery almonds. With a sudden shrieking hiccough, a sort of fog appeared like a cloud above the Dragon's head, and an unclear image began to form. Dark… dark swirling images, indistinct voices, then a sudden flash, and a scene they all knew to well. Voldemort looming over helpless people, screaming, people being thrown into the air and torn like paper. The dragon did nothing for a while, but suddenly with a heartbreaking scream it shot across the room, crashing into the door to the store cupboard. An empty glass container crashed down near to it, and it shot away again, wailing helplessly.

'It seems your Dragon has nightmares, Potter,' Snape drawled, vaguely amused. The Dragon shot back and forth, blinding searching for an exit, before stopping and kicking and scratching at it's body and face, wheezing and bawling desperately. Harry snatched it up and held it's feet away from it's body, and it sunk it's teeth into his hand, screaming into his flesh. He winced, but did not let go. Hermione swallowed hard.

'I think we understand how the potion works now, Professor,' she commented. Snape glared.

'5 points from Gryffindor for your smart alec attitude once again, Miss Granger,' Snape sneered. 'Alright, Potter, bring it up here.' Shivering in pain and rage, Harry forced himself up to the desk. The dragon's eyes were unnaturally far open, the cloud of hateful dreams right beside Harry's face, and it's teeth were still latched into Harry's thumb. It whimpered miserably. Snape went to snatch it from Harry's hands, but only succeeded in further jarring the teeth in Harry's flesh. He hissed between his teeth. The dragon pinched it's eyes shut in pure misery. With an almost absent minded flick of his wrist, Snape slapped his hand across the creature's hind quarters, lifting them in shock off of Harry's arm. The creature shrieked and released Harry's hand, and was immediately pulled away.

'Professor!' Hermione gasped, horrified. Angry mumblings hummed throughout the class. Truth be told, Harry was glad that the creature was no longer using his hand as a chew toy, but any reason to hate Snape more, eh?

'Hold still,' Snape snarled, obviously a novice when it came to handling animals. The Dragon yelped and screamed, backing away from his hands, and wilding gesticulating. For the first time since Harry had set eyes on the beast, he felt an odd sense of connection. With him blocking the way, no other student could see, but Harry, peering down at the wailing scrabbling lizard could see where it was screaming at, where it was backing away from. Snape's right forearm. The Dragon looked up at his desperately. Harry felt a connection like a twang to his heartstrings.

Help me. Make it stop. Save me!

'Excuse me, sir,' Harry said curtly, snatching the pipette from Snape's hand, grabbing the Dragon's head and squirting it's contents down it's throat. The Dragon shook again as Harry put it down.

'Don't muck around, boy!' Snape snarled, snatching back the pipette angrily and standing up to loom like a phantom over Harry. A hiccough distracted him, as the cloud vanished into a puff of white steam, and the black melted from the silver eyes. There was a moments peace, before, yowling like an alley cat, the Dragon leapt and latched onto a certain prominent facial feature of a certain irritable professor.

'That dragon's a menace,' Ron growled irritably. 'Sixty points from Gryffindor! Sixty!' Harry sighed.

'Well,' he mused, 'he could have killed him or something, so it could have been worse.' Ron groaned.

'Harry, mate,' he said, patting Harry on the shoulder. 'I'd kill the bloody lizard for sixty house points. In fact, I'd do it for thirty.' Ron stormed off towards the main door of the castle. Hermione and Blaise followed him. Harry turned and watched the Dragon following behind him angrily. He'd set the bracelet to three metres, and after a few nasty experiences with the stairs, the dragon had decided he'd walk rather than be forcibly dragged.

'Hurry up, you,' Harry said as encouragingly as he could muster. The dragon glared daggers at him and sat down. Harry rolled his eyes.

'In my bag,' he whispered to the bracelet, and the dragon yelped throatily as it landed unceremoniously in the dark depths of disorganised shambles of Harry's satchel. As Harry jogged out of the castle and towards Hagrid's hut, he didn't dare to follow up on the ill concealed sound of shredding paper coming from inside.

'This morning' we'll be startin' our advanced creature study project,' Hagrid explained as Professor Grubbly-Plank checked over an array of boxes. 'Over the nex' two years yer'll be doin' two o' three o' these here projects. As a real treat, I got yer a real special beastie for this time around.' He beamed. Some of the students whimpered. 'Ah, dun yer worry,' he chuckled. 'This one's perfectly safe and tame as they come… just a little unusual, s'all.'

'Right then,' Professor Grubbly-Plank said curtly. 'Line up, quickly now. We'll issue each one box. Each has a number on, and you will work only with creature you've been assigned to. Do you all understand?'

'Yes,' came the unenthusiastic reply. Hagrid sidled up to Harry.

'S'gonna be real exciting', playin' with these little beauties,' Hagrid sighed.

'So long as they're more friendly than my one,' Harry hissed under his breath.

'Professor,' Justin piped up, 'There's one too few. Harry hasn't got one yet.'

'I'm sure we ordered enough from the breeder,' She replied thoughtfully, checking her list.

'It's alright, Professor,' Harry butted in, muttering under his breath and reaching into his bag. He winced, and drew it out, dripping blood from gashes, but bearing a very irritable looking Penndragonne.

'You've got your own penndragonne, Potter?' Professor Grubbly-Plank asked, trying weakly to cover the surprise in her voice.

'Bliney, 'arry!' Hagrid gawped. 'Yer never told me, neither!' Harry extracted the Penndragonne from his bleeding hand and placed it on a nearby tree stump.

'I only got him on Friday,' he grumbled as the mob moved in.

Harry was used to people fussing over him, and so it wasn't too much of a struggle to get through the burning questions session from the other students. Of course, they all had their own work to get on with, and soon he was left to his own devices with nothing but a work parchment, a tree stump and a dysfunctional dragon for company. He was already stuck, and he'd only gotten to the first question.

'S'everyone alrigh'?' Hagrid asked cheerily.

'Yes!' everyone, save Harry, replied, chuckling at the silvery creatures fluttering around their heads, curled on their shoulders or winding around their hands.

'Myself and Hagrid will be coming around to check your progress in the next few minutes…' the professor's voice trailed off as Harry stared at his blank parchment.

'Dragon registration title…' Harry muttered, looking up at the creature before him, dwarfed by all the others present, with their melon sized bodies and matchbox sized heads. Harry sighed.

'Well, what do you want to be called?' he asked, and received no reply. The dragon sat perfectly still, facing away from him, unaware of the perfect opportunity Harry was getting to study the fine bone structure, the perfect curvature and form of the body, the delicate fragility of the tiny apparently dysfunctional wings, clad in the soft, fluttery, well maintained feathers. His heart was freely allowed to wrench at the lilac bruise and the silver perfection of the skin, the tiny claws which sat, retracted, in the slender toes of the four grasping feet. Professor Grubbly-Plank apologised for knocking him on her way to Hermione and Ron, and Harry snapped back to reality. The Dragon was looking at him. Not glaring, or sneering, or even staring maliciously. Just looking. Harry was drawn to the liquid almonds, the intelligence that poured from the dark, engaging pupils, almost as if, for just a few moments, the dragon was a-

'Though' of a name, yet?' Hagrid asked over Harry's shoulder. Harry muttered something incoherently, and the Dragon hissed at the overly large figure behind his keeper.

'Wha'?' Hagrid asked again. Harry looked up, smiling a little goofily.

'I said Silver,' he said lightly. 'I was looking at it, looking for inspiration, and that's what came to me.' The dragon groaned and grumbled into it's forepaws. Hagrid moved Harry's quill hand towards the parchment.

'Then get ta work,' he chuckled. 'An' don't get too distracted like by yer little runt, there.' Harry had to scream 'TREETRUNK' as the dragon lunged for Hagrid, uttering something foul in dragonish, and it impacted hard and angrily with the wood, spitting and snarling, humping it's back and lowering it's head like a viper. Hagrid stood up, scratching his head.

'Funny critter, 'at one,' he mused. Harry sighed.

'Too right.' He looked at his parchment, before gawping at Hagrid. 'And you expect me to measure it!'

'Terminado Sangra,' Harry muttered bitterly at Professor Flitwick told them all about complex enchantment structures, watching the scratches to his hand heal over. Having learnt from potions, despite Professor Flitwick's more kindly nature, he had confined the penndragonne to his bag with some food snatched from lunch. He had, of course, unpacked the rest of his belongings before putting the creature in, and had discovered just how worse for wear his poor Charms textbook was after it's brutal treatment after Potions. They had just gotten down to practising (on three kumquats) a distancing Charm, followed by a peeling Charm and finally the summoning Charm (to demonstrate how, even when objects are out of reach, a series of Spells can rearrange life for you) there was an almighty clattered at something crashed into the stained glass window at the top of the classroom.

'Oh!' Flitwick exclaimed. 'Venta Reparo!' The glass, before even hitting the ground, was back in it's frame, but the culprit fluttered, hooting wildly around the rafters. Giggles went up around the room.

'Pig…' Ron groaned. 'Why can't that bloody bird deliver at breakfast like any normal owl?'

'My sentiments exactly, Mr Weasley!' Professor Flitwick snapped. 'Please control your pets!'

'Sorry sir,' Ron muttered, beetroot. 'It won't happen again.'

'I should hope not,' Flitwick sighed. 'Now class, back to work! Remember- swish and-'

'-flick, swish and flick,' the class replied. Harry sighed, sort of content. He was glad he wasn't the only one with a psychopath for a pet. Ron tugged the thick bundle of letters off of the owl's leg, before turning his ink jar into a cage (a skill necessary for Pigwidgeon control) and shoving the berserker bird inside.

Harry didn't enquire into the nature of the letters for the rest of the day. It wasn't something he practised. Besides, he had taken to trying to teach Silver, as he was now, by the law of his ink, obliged to call the Penndragonne, to sit. He was failing abysmally. In fact, Pigwidgeon's attack on the Charms class hadn't really crossed his mind since Charms. He had been slacking off his studies this evening to try and befriend the aloof, and as Hagrid had so eloquently put it, runtish lizard. He had no reason to think about Ron's mail until Ron slumped down next to him on the sofa, jarring him.

'What's up?' Harry asked lightly. Ron looked vaguely giddy, vaguely mortified.

'We're going out for the weekend,' he whispered. Harry raised an eyebrow at him dubiously.

'I'm not camping out in the Forbidden Forest like Hermione had us do in September, Ron,' he sighed, and went back to trying to tempt the dragon to sit. Ron shook his head.

'No,' he hissed tersely. 'Dad arranged it. He had four invites… Him and Mum, you and Me… s'not really safe for Hermione, I guess… god knows why he got given them... What's that weirdo up to…'

'What are you withering on about, for god's sake?' Harry cut in. Ron's head snapped back from his mutterings.

'Look,' he said, proffering an opened envelope to Harry. Harry accepted and peered inside.

'They're tickets,' Harry commented. Ron nodded.

'Lucius Malfoy sent them to Dad,' he breathed.

'Malfoy!' Harry squawked, and the common room went a little quiet. The Penndragonne turned it's head a little. Ron slapped him upside the head and frowned.

'No need to shout,' he hissed. 'Read them.' Harry did. 'He sent them out to the whole ministry. Rumour has it he invites most of the Wizengamot too… even Dumbledore.'

'The Malfoy Halloween Celebration Festivities…' Harry muttered. 'You mean… we're spending the weekend at Malfoy Manor!'

A/N

Spanish time again! Some in self explanatory and nicked from HP itself, but…

Sangra- Sangre- Blood (remember, Harry was studying 'How to stop blood loss' earlier? Huh, huh?' )

Venta- Ventano- Window

I LOVE CLIFFIES! WHAHAHAH!. I apologise profusely, this chapter was beginning to drag, so I had to finish it up. That, and I'm knackered. Guess what's gonna happen in Chapter 5! Oh, and you get to meet a few more vitally important characters, next time.