Penndragonne

By Tashasaphi

Chapter 11

Disclaimer: My hands smell like beer.

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…A story of love, friendship and abusing ones minions

WARNINGS:

Also warnings... : This story is quite dark. I think black becomes me.

A/N

http/adultfan. my adultfanfiction addie, OK? Later chapters might be too bad for poor innocent little MYAH HAH HAH!

And for the purpose of Penndragonne, Durmstrang is in Siberia.

This chapter starts with a flashback. Bear with it.

Dark. The clouds that boiled overheard were slashed open with violent stormy streaks of violet, electric, luminescent and deadly. A storm of magic. A storm of hate. A storm that would consume them all. Inside the castle, the first and second years were holed up with some of the prefects. Out here, face down in the mud, was everyone else. Some were already dead. When the wards had shattered, many had been shot down as they ran, before the populace were immobilised. The air was thick, noxious, creeping into the captives as they lay in the sodden, invasive earth, clogging them with fear and misery. Surely someone would come. Surely someone could stop this. Harry had forgotten that hope. Voldemort had already killed six through his torture. Patsy Parkinson and Ginny were still alive, panting into the floor in ragged choking gasps, their time ticking down. When Voldemort tired of whiling out his waiting with this subject, he would move on. Pansy had surprised Harry. She didn't have a dark mark, and therefore and incurred the Dark Lord's wrath. But she wasn't the most surprising hostage. At that very moment, the air was pulsating with the straining, hideous, cracking screams of Draco Malfoy as the Cruciatus twisted a thousand invisible knives into him for fifth or sixth time. Three Hufflepuffs were being hung from invisible nooses, choking to death under their own weight. However, all eyes, if not shut, were drawn, blearily, to the twisting, twining, ruffled figure on the floor. Suddenly, the glow from Voldemort's wand changed colour. His voice trickled forth like insidious poison.

'Take up that blade,' he hissed. Slowly, the contorted figure became human again, sitting up, shivering. Silver eyes were a murky grey, pupils dilated near swallowing all of the colour. Slowly, a hand snaked forth, three broken fingers hanging limp, as the other two clutched around the blade's handle. A small groan of pain managed to breathe forth from bloodstained lips. The death eaters watched with grim satisfaction. Most of them feared Malfoy, but didn't like him. This seemed to be a sort of... just desserts for the pompous pale prat and his puffed up brat of a son.

'Now,' Voldemort whispered. 'Tell everyone present why you are suffering.' Malfoy's head, his white-blonde hair clotted with blood and grime, turned up to look at Voldemort, foolishly imploring. Wormtail kicked him, sending him flying against the dirt. He didn't even manage to get up before the imperious intensified and he bawled out his words.

'I... I won't join you... not yet... and I... flagrantly ignore your requests upon me... which is not befitting of a son of someone... of my father's stature...' He broke off, suddenly shrieking as Voldemort's curse made him squeeze the blade of the knife, the slick metal biting into his palm.

'Try harder,' Voldemort purred. Harry groaned into the mud, unable to look away as the pain nearly took out his eyesight. Surely someone would come? Where was Dumbledore!

'I'm a traitor!' Malfoy screamed as blood gushed from the open wound. He fell sideways and knife flashed away. He panted, obviously fighting, his bleeding hand close to his body. There was thunder above and on the ground as Voldemort stepped forward, pacing in measured steps towards the quivering, panting body of the boy.

'Now,' Voldemort whispered, raising his wand. Malfoy, groaning, was forced to stand, his face as if attached to the wand like a puppet. 'Where are your friends?' Suddenly, from the crowds, about fifteen children stood bolt upright, and then suddenly realised their predicament. Near to Harry, Blaise Zabini stood, quaking, biting his lip.

'Your friends...' Voldemort continued. 'Who like you, refuse to show fealty...' Voldemort sighed. 'A pity. Some fine wizards are among your number. However, your parents have shown me their allegiance. Having you are children is an insult to them. Wormtail!' The small man hefted forward, his metal fingers flexing. Malfoy's eyes narrowed and took focus. He fell down, crawling away. At the click of Voldemort's fingers, Wormtail pursued him, snatching up his leg with a sickening crack. All the standing children, along with Malfoy, crumpled, howling in agony.

'Now you see,' Voldemort said coolly to all gathered. 'When you hurt me with your misdemeanour, you hurt everyone. How selfish...' Malfoy didn't have the energy to retort. Voldemort's wand flicked, and in seconds Malfoy was crawling back towards him, face set in a grimace of pain and resistance. A trembling, pale hand reached out and took up the blade. With some disgust, Harry realised that the other captives were doing the same, but without a knife, including Ginny, blood already pouring from pale lips and trickling down her chin. Hermione, who was lying on his head to stop him from being seen, choked down a sob. Like some terrible emblem, Malfoy, eyes darting to the blade fearfully, raised the knife high, the purple lightning above glinting off its clean, sharp planes. Voldemort watched coolly.

'Repent,' he hissed. Malfoy hung his head, panting horribly, mumbling. Voldemort's eyes narrowed into their vicious snakelike slits of rouge terror.

'Repent!' He snapped. Lightning cracked over head, as Draco Malfoy slammed the blade into his abdomen, head falling back and crying out in torment. Hermione jumped, and Harry closed his eyes. Why wasn't anyone coming? He couldn't do anything- Hermione and Ron were holding him down. Besides, what could he do? He was just the same as the children up there, screaming as their life fled their bodies in thick surges of gore. Pansy screamed as the invisible blade made contact, death eaters nearby blasting her and Ginny with the Cruciatus. Curses whizzed into the crowd, striking the standing youths with agony. Gibbering, mindless, lost to Voldemort's command, Malfoy dragged the blade out of his body, eyeing it in terror as blood spilled over his lips. He allowed himself a sob, before Voldemort flicked the wand again, and he raised the blade, slashing down wildly across the blanched flesh of his arms. Harry bit down as surging pain shot through his skull.

...You're next...

Harry groaned as the pain flooded him, Ron leaning down hard on his legs and he kicked. Malfoy, panting, toppled over sideways, and there was a flash of red light. Harry heard and felt the agony of Voldemort's anger, and then there was nothing.

Everything went dark.

Harry woke up with a start, wand drawn like some over excited magical cowboy. Ron rolled over on the velvet seat, snoring. Harry got up from his place on the floor and plonked himself back on his seat. He peered out of the window, into the pre dawn blue. They were coming up on Hogsmeade, and had just touched down, which had shocked him awake. Apparently, it had awakened Silver as well, who stretched, catlike, yawning, from his den inside Harry's jumper. Harry scooped him up, all sleepy and floppy and warm, and held him close. Silver, who kicked a bit in resistance, then promptly fell back to sleep, coiling close to Harry's body. Harry was pleased by this. Apparently having to fend for himself in the creepy old manor house for a couple of days had persuaded Silver that perhaps company wasn't that tragic.

Sitting in the Great Hall at breakfast, Harry Ron looked as bad as they felt.

'I cannot cope with Snape today,' Ron moaned as Silver took deep rejuvenating drafts from a cup of milk. Harry had refused him coffee on the grounds that it was evil. Harry poked his bacon drowsily.

'Hermione will flay us if we don't go,' he said morbidly. 'Especially you.'

'Why especially me?'

'Because I'm scary when I'm angry, apparently,' he said easily. Ron raised an eyebrow, before smirking and shaking his head.

'That's what you get for kicking over tables, you hormonal prat. Now, before you knock it flying, pass me the jam.' Harry complied, but not before Silver had hissed at him, and had clumsily used a knife to dislodge a portion of it onto his saucer. Ron watched blankly, before relieving Harry of the pot.

'Freak,' Ron hissed at the dragon, before allowing Chudley to take an ample bit out of the other side of his toast. Harry raised an eyebrow. Ron frowned.

'I don't know what you're staring at,' he grumbled. 'Penndragonnes eat whatever their masters eat.' Harry frowned, looking between his and Silver's plates. Harry was drinking tea while Silver had wanted coffee, refused tea, knocked over the orange juice in disgust and had settled, sulkily, on milk. Harry was eating bacon, eggs, fried bread, wholemeal toast and tomato. Silver had chosen dry sweet cereal, a half slice of white toast with apricot jam and a slice of fruit. It was as if he was deliberately trying to pick the lighter opposites of Harry's breakfast choices. Harry made an in descript grumbling noise, deciding that that was all it was (contrary little...), before rubbing his eyes and finishing off his breakfast.

'Page three hundred and thirty six- Toxin removing potions and their primary uses.' Professor Snape's greasy voice spread through the echoey dungeon. Harry and Ron were sitting crammed together, thoroughly unimpressed and half asleep.

'We're gonna screw this up,' Harry groaned under his breath. Ron couldn't even muster a reply as he knocked his ink with his elbow, sending it splashing up Blaise Zabini's robes and all over the desk.

'Ron!' Hermione snapped from the other side of him. They hadn't given her a complete low down yet.

'Snorry...' Ron slurred, patting Zabini's wet arm.

'That's... quite alright?' Zabini tried.

'Mister Zabini, a little less of the idle chatter,' Snape growled. Of course, no points were taken, but Zabini immediately bowed his head. Hermione shot Ron a foul look, and Ron seemed to withdraw into himself, hunching and looking thoroughly hurt. A loud tapping on Harry's book made him focus. Silver looked annoyed by his lack of enthusiasm, and despite the incident just a week before, was listening quite attentively, a thieved quill in claw, poised over a scrap of parchment, ready to write detailed and helpful notes. Harry was vaguely thankful for that. Someone had to, he supposed. Snape opened his mouth to begin to dictate what the little snot rags were going to do next, when the door slammed open.

'Professor Sna-'

'What is the meaning of this outrageous interruption!' Snape hollered. Harry was impressed. Being able to switch from dull dictation to full on frenzied screech owl mode was an impressive skill. Snape was a talented guy. The small boy (no more than third year) flapped his mouth like a goldfish, but Snape continued.

'Normal people knock when they come to a closed door. It's called common courtesy. However, that's obviously something they fail to teach you in...' he squinted. 'Hufflepuff. That's 50 points from you boy,' the boy in took a sudden, sharp breath, as if he'd been stabbed. More than likely he was imagining what his housemates were going to do to him when they heard about this...

'Now,' Snape hissed, looking content with the effect he'd had on the boy. 'Get out of my sight. If you have to see me, you can do it after school-'

'But sir!' The boy piped up. 'I'm supposed to see you now. Professor Dumbledore...' The boy trailed off, eyes widening a little. Even through his sleep vision, Harry could see why. Snape was hunched like a monotone vulture with a back problem. Snape hated being interrupted. Now, he had managed to do some damage to a helpless innocent, he had imagined he'd be able to get on with things. No such luck. Dumbledore was involved. Snape seemed to sink lower to the desk, rage pouring from his form in invisible, noxious clouds. A growl emanated from his form, reminiscent to a irritated starved rhinoceros with a smokers cough induced by that bad pack of fags he bought of a one eyed crocodile back when he was a teen-ocerous. Yes, Harry was half way through a dream about zoo animals.

'What does he want?' Snape ground out between snarls. The boy swallowed hard.

'He... sent me down here to... to get Ronald Weasley, sir...' Snape's eyes, which were bulging a little (Harry mentally noted that this is what happened when Snape's plots were foiled.), clicked onto Ron. He wilted a little, sinking lower into his chair.

'Oh?' Snape said almost cheerily, (again Harry marvelled at his mood swinging skills) sitting up and clasping his hands together. 'You've come to take a student from my class?'

'Th-That's what professor Dumbledore asked me to do, sir. He said it was-'

'Weasley,' Snape snapped, turned once again to Ron. 'Pack up and get out.' Ron blinked a few times, looking bemused, before starting to pack up.

'Tomorrow,' Snape continued. 'You will return to my class room after school, with a complete set of notes on Today's lesson, and prepared to make the potion.' Ron's face fell as if his flesh had sunk down his bones.

'But, sir,' he began.

'Let us hope your companions will lend you some notes to copy from, Mister Weasley,' Snape said gently, his sneer spreading. Chuckles came from a few of the less sympathetic students. Ron grumbled something so quietly that only Harry heard it, and smirked. He swept all of his ink soaked belongings into his rough, beaten up leather satchel and slouched out of the door. Harry heard the small boy apologising as the door swung shut. Blaise magicked away the ink, and the remaining three filled in the gap on the desk, for once being able to sit without knocking each other in the over crowded dungeon.

'Now,' Snape growled, 'Page three hundred and thirty six...'

Harry, having finished his Myth Magic class, headed back up to the common room. Dinner wasn't for another hour, and he was feeling drained. Silver was sitting in his satchel, blinking up at him in a bemused sort of way. It unsettled Harry a little. yes, it was good that Silver wasn't trying to maul him for some unknown crime anymore, but the fuzzy, confused distance that had filled the creature's eyes instead upset him.

'Crookshanks ate my breakfast,' he said dully, and the fat lady, who was combing her long ringlets folded out of the way without so much as a 'how are you?'. Harry trudged inside, hearing the clamour up ahead. Silver clambered up Harry's arm from the bag and clung to his upper arm for a better view, chirping. In the body of the common room there was a huge congregation of Gryffindors. Banners streaked across the beams, blaring

'WELCOME BACK' and 'GET WELL SOON'. People were swigging butterbeer, laughing heartily, and generally having a good time.

'What's all this?' Harry managed, whilst catching and clinging onto Silver as the dragon was buffeted off his shoulder by some rather hyper third years. Hermione raised her head above the motley crew.

'Oh, Harry!' she said brightly. 'it's wonderful!'

'What is?' Harry said, unable to keep the twitching of a smile from his lips in the presence of such positive energy. Seamus Finnegan, whose cold was almost gone, chucked Harry on the shoulder and got out of the way. There, in the centre of the throng, were the sofas and chairs, and sitting on the three-seater, besides a pair of crutches, was Ron, who was ecstatic with brotherly pride, and Ginny Weasley, beaming, blushing, but looking wan, thin and still bandaged under her happy glow.

'Harry...' she said quietly.

'Ginny!' he called back, moving over to sit on the other side of Ron. 'great to have you back!' She smiled. 'How are you feeling.'

'Much better,' she said cheerfully, petting a sleeping Chudley who took up her entire lap.

'Much, much better, thank you. The doctors really did a great job.'

'Are you well enough to be back...?' Harry's eyes grazed over the bandages. Ginny averted her eyes a little.

'I... I'm fine, really. Just a couple of cuts and bruises left. Grazes, really.' She chuckled a little as Ron beamed at her. 'Besides, I hear you and Ron are both studying Medi-Magic. I'm sure you can patch me up if anything goes wrong-'

'Nothing's gonna go wrong,' Ron said firmly, but brightly. 'We're all going to be great now, right, Ginny?' Ginny paused for a second, then nodded.

'Yep. Everything is going to be fine.' Harry smiled, feeling a little pang when he saw the drawn, gaunt look in her eyes.

'It really is great to have you back, Ginny,' he said softly. She looked at him, before smiling broadly, all of her sickness covered in a glamour of her glowing smile.

'I couldn't stay away.'

In Care of Magical Creatures, their main project was underway. Harry had completed his registration, and his detailed diagram, despite Silver's constant wriggling. Today, they were learning a new skill.

'Measuring your dragon is simple enough,' Professor Grubbly-Plank said clearly. 'Weight can be judged with a Peso Charm, which is thoroughly explained in your text book-' Harry's book writhed in its bonds- The Even More Monstrous Book of Monsters was a foe to be reckoned with. 'And length, height and wingspan can all be documented using one of these.' She lifted a tape measure out of a box. 'These measuring devices take precise measurements at your command, providing the dragon is sitting or standing quite still. One at a time, come and collect a tape measure, and remember your commands.'

'I'll get yours for you,' Hermione offered.

'Cheers, 'mione,' Harry said as she walked off... flanked by Blaise Zabini, discussing their Arithmacy homework avidly. Ron looked sour as he poked Chudley's belly with his wand.

'What's up with you?' Harry asked earnestly. Ron huffed.

'Nothin',' he grumbled as Chudley chortled like a infant. Silver sat primly on his favourite tree stump, looking around imperiously. He was the king of all he surveyed. Sleek, svelte, elegant and oddly attractive to butterflies. Right now he had stopped glaring and was trying to flick one off his nose with his tail. He only succeeded in near blinding himself. With a yelp, he staggered back, aghast, and promptly fell into the thick grass.

'Whoopsie daisy,' chortled an enamoured Hagrid, scooping a positively violated Silver and a large quantity of grass into his huge hands. Silver sat stock still, pieces of offending grass poking through the feathers of his wings, and one particularly bold piece poking from his mouth. Harry retrieved him quickly.

'Yer gots t'be careful wit' the littluns,' Hagrid said like an overbearing mother. 'They'r so fragile...' He snuffled, wiping his eyes and moved away.

'It's officially confirmed,' Ron drawled, Chudley clinging to his head like a glue smothered hat. 'Hagrid has finally cracked.'

'I think he should get a Penndragonne,' Harry said, brushing Silver off and placing him back on the stump. 'I mean, they don't grow too big, they're not really dangerous and they're affectionate. They're a dragon that no one could complain or sack him for having.'

'He'd hate it,' Ron said. 'The only one of the Penndragonnes he goes gah gah over is Silver. Hagrid has some strange brain block which makes him be attracted to things that will cause him harm.' Ron shook his head sympathetically. 'Poor blighter.'

'Here you go, Ron,' Hermione said, handing Ron a tape measure, before turning to Harry. 'Professor Grubbly-Plank says we need to do wingspan, total length, girth and tail length. It's the best way to see how well they are developing, apparently.'

'Brilliant,' Ron snarled and Blaise knelt down, removing his large, sleek, handsome dark grey beast from its spot in his bag. The creature yawned, showing off its strong, new teeth, shaking itself out like a decadent cat.

'Oh, isn't he cute!' Hermione purred, petting it. It curled into her with sickening ease, mewing. She laughed again, and Tigerlily began pouncing on its tail.

'Apparently Loki is one of the most advanced, in terms of development, out of the penndragonnes here,' Blaise said genially.

'Oh?' Ron said sharply. 'Did the professor say that?'

'Yes,' Blaise replied serenely. 'Apparently they are all progressing at different rates, some quickly, like Loki, and some rather slow...' his eyes dropped momentarily to Chudley, who was chewing near toothlessly on Ron's fingers, before shooting back up. Ron glowered. 'She's concerned about it.' Ron scooped up Chudley, glowered, and stomped off.

'Ron!' Hermione called after him, but he ignored her. She glared at Blaise.

'I wasn't talking about his Penndragonne!' Blaise said quickly 'He was wriggling so I looked at him, that's all!'

'Then whose Dragon were you talking about?' Hermione bit. 'Hmm? Whose talent were you having a jab at?'

'I wasn't jabbing at anyone!' Blaise snapped. 'But if you must know, Professor Grubbly-Plank is worried about Harry's dragon. The only one that didn't come from the breeder.' Silver, who was grooming his face, shot Zabini a look. Blaise blinked.

'Whoah...' he said sharply. 'He's alert.'

'And touchy,' Harry said stiffly. 'Professor Grubbly-Plank should mind her own business. Silver's small, yeah, so what? He's got more teeth than Tigerlily, who is twice his size, and more brains than some people I know. He takes notes in lessons and everything.'

'I'm not having a go,' Blaise said quickly, Loki wriggling up his robes, 'and I'm sure the professor wasn't either. But you have to admit, he's a bit pint sized, compared with the rest. Doesn't he eat or something? Or exercise?'

'That's a point,' Hermione said before Harry could defend the haughty little creature. 'He doesn't fly, does he?'

'So what?' Harry shot back.

'Not even a flap?' Blaise asked, curiously. 'Loki soars around the common room all evening-'

'-and Tigerlily, despite a few accidents, has been flapping around for more than a week. And even that porker Chudley flies. Better than Tigerlily in fact.' There was an edge to her voice at that comment. 'But Silver, whose obviously far advanced mentally, and dentally,' she winced and the memory of his teeth. 'doesn't fly at all. Maybe his muscles aren't developing properly.'

'He's fine!' Harry persisted. 'If he wasn't, I'd know.'

'Is his wingspan undersized?' Blaise pestered, picking him up off the tree stump, eliciting an indignant honk from the creature. 'Let's see...'

'Hey!' Harry protested, attempting to grab him back.

'Wingspan,' Blaise ordered, and the tape measure. Silver snarled at it prudely, and bit at Zabini's hand, grazing him, when the boy clutched his wing. Blaise jumped a little, and the tape measure paused, before completing its measurements when Zabini had the creature held still. As soon as Zabini released it, Silver sunk it's claws in, making Zabini yelp, before cat leaping onto Harry's lap, clambering across it and back onto his tree stump, his feather in disarray, and his eyes whirling angrily. Zabini noted down the measurement and gave the scrap of parchment to Harry tersely.

'That beast is positively feral,' he snapped. Harry glared.

'He doesn't like to be touched,' he clarified. 'What's the problem?' Loki at this point was butting Zabini's hands, and hissing and spitting at Silver.

'The problem is that that's not natural,' Zabini sneered. Hermione looked flustered. 'And he hasn't got any proper flight feathers. That's why his wings are so small.' Zabini sneered. 'That's not exactly natural either.'

'Shut it, Zabini.'

'Boys! Will you just stop it!' Hermione cut in. 'You're both acting like children. Blaise, I'm sorry Silver bit you, but he's a wild penndragonne and he's very young. he's got quirks. And Harry, he's not normal, but that's no reason to throw a hissy fit. Now, let's just do our work, before the professor makes it round.' Harry and Blaise locked glares, before quietly acquiescing and scribbling down their results. When Harry handled him, Silver behaved a little better. Harry put that down to him being gentler, rather than Silver playing favourites. And Zabini's wingspan measurement had been out by a few millimetres anyway. Harry smirked. Aloof, stuck up bastard. However, he had been right. Silver's flight feathers were soft and curved, rather than the straight stiff feathers proudly being displayed by Tigerlily as she perched perfectly in Hermione's lap. She winked at Silver, who recoiled into Harry's gut, snarling in distaste. Harry and Hermione laughed, which broke the silence perfectly, and Silver bemusedly sulked. Harry had noticed the air-headed air to him since the manor, but had paid it little mind. Silver seemed perky enough. Perky enough to be trying to bite the tape measure that was trying to measure his tail length. Harry had taken to doing three of the same measurement and taking the average, because Silver was such a handful. Once it was all over, Silver was lying on his back, looking positively tragic, exhausted from all the running around and dodging he had been doing. Tigerlily was sitting next to him, prodding him like a worried mother. He kept thwacking her with his tail and grumbling, but she could not be discouraged. Hermione thought it was darling. Harry thought that Tigerlily was a bimbo, but didn't deign to say it.

'Alrigh' class,' Hagrid said thickly, clapping his hands. He was in action mode. 'Now onter th' second part of th' lesson. This shouldn't take yer long, but some dragons can be more troublesome than others.'

'Oh god,' Harry mumbled.

'In order to pass your final test, you have to be able to sex your dragon,' Professor Grubbly-Plank continued. Some students snickered. Hermione rolled her eyes. 'The process in which you sex a Penndragonne is very simple.' She picked up Chudley, since Ron after storming off had settled down near her. 'Ooh, he's a big boy, isn't he?' Harry could see Ron's face (in his mind) turning fuchsia. 'Now, as you can see, Penndragonnes have no obvious genitalia external to their bodies. At this age there are no discerning signs of gender from the outside at all. The process for sexing is thus.' Professor Grubbly-Plank, holding Chudley around the back in one hand, raised her other hand, extending her index finger. She pressed it to the base of Chudley's neck, and ran it down his front to the base of his tail slowly. After a finger was a definite blue streak, which faded a few seconds after being completed. Chatter went up across the grass.

'Congratulations, Mister Weasley,' Professor Grubbly-Plank said cheerily, handing him back. 'It's a boy. Now, class, my self and Hagrid will be coming round, so I expect to see you putting this technique into practise. It may take a few tries at first.' She smiled. 'Some dragons are a bit shy.' While Loki obediently rolled over in Zabini's lap, Harry turned to look at Silver. The penndragonne, sprawled on its back, looked up feebly at Harry, before flipping onto its belly, crouched like a snarling crocodile, and glared. Harry frowned, wincing has he grasped it across the back, and reflexively the creature bit him. Silver didn't bite that much anymore. However, being strangely perceptive, even in his somewhat dazed state, he could sense when his dignity was at stake. This was the same reaction Harry had gotten the night before when he'd suggested a bath. Claws dug in, body stiff and teeth bared. There was no way he was budging this dragon. Blaise Zabini glowered at him, and Hermione thwacked him. Harry could almost sense Ron bristling at her being so intimate with what he perceived as the enemy. Suddenly, though he's managed to forget the stabbing pain in his finger, it came flooding back as Silver released his grip, hacking and coughing and spitting out the sickly metallic liquid that filled it's mouth. It wheezed and hissed, trembling a little, but didn't try and bite again. In fact, Harry managed to pry him away from the block and wipe it's mouth a bit before the dragon realised it was belly up in Harry's lap, and pinned that way due to bracelet. It struggled, howling like a cat defied, but its legs were too short for it to catch hold and roll over, and Harry had it pinned.

'Sorry, mate,' he said, before raising an index finger. Silver stilled, glaring at the finger in a truly violated manner. Somewhere inside, the slumbering Draco Malfoy shuddered in his sleep. Harry, taking the chance, pressed it to the bottom of Silver's throat. Silver swallowed hard, its eyes pinching shut and its body tensing up. Slowly, Harry began dragging his finger down the torso, releasing the hold with his other hand since Silver was now prone. Finally, he reached the base of the tail. And waited. No stripe. He took his finger away, and Silver relaxed a little, its head falling back, relieved. It yelped a strangled cry when Harry's finger raked down its body a second time. No stripe. And again. No stripe. And again. No stripe. Harry groaned. Silver whimpered, stretched out and quite clearly feeling violated. Its eyes were still pinched shut. Hermione, who had finished, sidled over. She tried, pressing a slender finger tip onto the base of the throat and letting it travel down. Silver allowed a sob to escape. But still, no stripe. Tigerlily flounced off Hermione's lap and started poking Silver's belly. He didn't even flick her with his tail. He was too busy trembling and waiting for it to end.

'Havin' trouble ther, 'Arry?' Hagrid said, leaning over them. 'Let me 'av a go.'

Silver's eyes flew open.

Gods, no.

It screamed in horror, but to no avail, as Hagrid's broad finger pinned it to Harry's lap and stroked down. It tensed up, before falling back against Harry's lap, panting and crying meekly. Professor Grubbly Plank came over. Harry felt vaguely inadequate.

'Hrm, there's always a tricky one,' she said haughtily. 'Let's see...' she tried... and failed.

'This little runt's a toughy,' she said. 'Sometimes it works if you try it backwards once, and then the right way around.' She tried. No stripe. Silver was actually crying out now like a booted puppy. 'Perhaps if someone else tries...'

So they all tried.

Up and down.

Twice.

Blaise tried too. Twice.

Somewhere deep inside, the slumbering Draco Malfoy was having a horrific nightmare.

By the time the bell went for the next class, everyone in the class had had several goes, and Harry was still stroking his fingers up and down the now much abused belly.

'He is a little small,' Professor Grubbly Plank sighed, defeated. 'Perhaps he's not developed enough yet.' She turned away, as did the other students.

'Come on Silver,' Harry whispered. Silver's head flapped from side to side, defiant, creeling and mewing.

'Come on!' Harry insisted. Silver whimpered, its mouth cracked open, breath hissing in shallow gasps between its teeth. The class began to walk away. Harry pressed his finger down hard.

'Come-'

Silver screamed. Actually screamed. Its body arched up, it's wings flapped out, it's eyes rolled back and it hollered. A blue line shocked down its gut and it fell back, panting heavily.

'He's male!' Harry managed, grinning in triumph. 'He's a male!' Everyone turned as Harry held the now limp and branded Dragon over his head.

Somewhere deep inside, the slumbering Draco Malfoy had made a sticky mess all over his subconscious.

That night, when they got back to their dormitory, Silver did not bite. He did not snap. He did not respond in anyway. He sat, rigid, staring blinding, and occasionally rocking back and forth long after Harry had bid him goodnight and told him how proud he was.

The sun had long since set. It was a rare clear night on the snow stained country, and Durmstrang castle stuck up like some wicked thorn into the white peppered sky. Students slumbered in their beds. A few were still up, studying or wasting time. A small few were outside, honing their skills at Quidditch, or tending the Herbology gardens. It was around nine pm. In a tall, underfed pine tree, which was all but dead but rather tall, a pale figure sat, wrapped in delicious, sumptuous fur. Hot coal eyes raked over the buildings. A smile graced puffy white lips, revealing sharp, malicious teeth. In a flurry and flutter of wretched feathers, the furs swayed on the branches alone, awaiting the return of their wearer. A dark thing rushed through the moonlight like a cancerous plague, hissing and darting from shadow to hidden blind spot, out of sight to those it needed to survive. With a thud it landed, crouched, on a wall, slowly its face beginning to regain its sleeker nature. It pressed its ear against the wall. The thud thud of the building's spirit droned on above the multiple heartbeats within. The creature steadied itself, preparing itself to use the energy it had acquired when gorging. It pressed itself to the wall, and within seconds a hissing heat spread through the building, melting icicles and sending the students roiling in their beds, hand's tracing lower to assist.

'It's... hot,' one managed to whisper, before falling across the card table humping into his own hand. Hot coal eyes looked on, and narrowed.

'Hotter,' hissing tongue commanded. Cries went up across the school. Steam rose in the night from the roofs.

'Hotter,' the creature moaned into the bricks, feeling the bricks tremble. Lustful moans of pain and pleasure went up across the school.

'Voldemort wants you,' the creature purred, feeling the momentum building. 'Voldemort wants you all. And now... now you are mine... hotter!'

Shrieks and cries.

'Hotter!'

Agony.

'Hotter!'

The screams died as hearts burst and blood sprayed across the building, hissing in the heat, boiling the dying flesh. Orion purred into the building as the temperature rose. He hissed and licked at it, inciting it, making it need him.

'You'll do what I say,' he asked the living rock. The building trembled, drowning in its own blood.

'Die.'

Flames smashed through the roof, howling and roaring into the silent night. The children in the grounds screamed and were struck down by debris and heat. Orion fell away, tumbling in a flurry of feathers. So sleepy, so sated yet... so hungry. He spiralled away, counting. A girl was screaming at the forest's edge. Crying and screaming in horror. There was no energy, no time for play. Orion impacted with her, shattering her bones and crushing her instantly dead body into the ground. In the night, as Durmstrang died, a limp corpse was dragged up into the dead fir by some unmade vulture, and burning eyes flashed in the dark as flesh was devoured in a nest of white furs.

A/N

Sorry it took so long. I hope it was worth it ;

And an FAQ- Penndragonnes don't normally have to orgasm for you to see their gender. But Silver isn't strictly a penndragonne now, is he?

And yes. Orion is a bitch.

R+R?