Prologue
It really would have been nice if something in my life could have gone my way…just once. One time would be more than enough for me, maybe two. Honestly, with how my luck works, I should have known. I should have known that my plan was going to go so very wrong, as they all do in the end. I should have known that the consequences from my failed plan would backfire so spectacularly that I ended up in a situation that should have been impossible. And I should have known that all of this could have been avoided if I had just listened to Hermione.
Hermione always said it was my Potter luck. But I doubt even someone with true sight could have foreseen how fully wrong my plan was going to go. Well, Professor Trelawny did keep insisting that I was doomed or such. Perhaps she did see it after all.
The heat left behind from the dragon fire still caressed my skin even as my lungs burned from the cold. I had closed my eyes tightly when the spells and flame converged upon us, praying silently to any god that would listen for them to show me some kind of mercy for once in my merciless life. When I opened them again, it was to a pure whiteness so bright that I had to blink away the burning spots in my eyes before I realized that the white was actually snow. The transition left me feeling off kilter and more than a little numb.
Moments ago, I was in that strange place that looked like Kings Cross but wasn't. Just before that, I was in the tournament ring surrounded by stone and fire. Now I was kneeling in thick snow, the white stretching as far as I could see in every direction.
Maybe someone was listening after all.
The sight was stunning, beautiful in an empty and peaceful sort of way. I have never seen so much snow. It covered the ground like a massive blanket and blended into the horizon seamlessly. I could only sit there in shocked silence as my hands clenched into fists on my thighs. A puff of thick air, white as fog, left me and a sudden shiver pulled at my overtaxed muscles, leaving me breathless and aching in the cold.
The tip of my nose burned and I sniffled as I wiped a tattered sleeve beneath it. It came away wet, but I didn't bother to see if it was from snot or blood. Instead, I turned my attention to the way my body struggled to stand. I pushed off the ground with my hands and at first, I couldn't feel anything as my fingers broke through the thick layer of snow, but seconds later it felt like fire was licking along my skin. I stood quickly, stumbling upon weak legs as I cradled my frozen fingers to my chest and fought with my exhausted muscles to maintain balance. At least the cold took the sting out of the cuts littering my hands.
Memories struggled to the surface as I glanced around in a daze. Snowflakes clung to my loose hair, turning dark where it melted with the ash still clinging to the strands that the wind pulled into my face. I tucked it behind one ear with an annoyance that I was far too used too. The hair tie Lavender had leant to me must have broken sometime between being in the arena and now.
I remembered being in the arena, anger seething low in my gut at being forced into the competition I wanted nothing to do with. The plan I had concocted was so very clever, or at least I had thought it was. Hermione warned me that it could backfire…I wish I had listened to her. If I had a time-turner, I would go back to that exact moment and slap myself for my idiocy, paradox be damned.
"What in Merlin's name happened?" I asked with a low mumble, pinching my lips together and then biting the lower one when I realized that they were going numb from the cold.
The question was asked without expecting a response as I was certain that I was alone, but to my surprise I received one. "You happened, Miss Potter," said a familiar voice with a well-known drawl. I flinched and I nearly lost my balance in the shock.
"Snape!?" I turned so quickly I stumbled, my legs twitching dangerously as the left one started to buckle before I locked my knees to stay upright. My vision swam for a moment as head felt light and fluffy from the sudden bout of dizziness, but I shook my head and blinked rapidly to clear it.
Now was really not the time for buzzing to start in my ears and for my muscles to give up on me, but it seemed that as the adrenaline faded, so did my resolve to stay standing. I fought off both with a pure stubborn resolve and thankfully my body decided to listen. My heavy pounding in my head receded into a dull throb, the buzzing in my ears lessened, and my body continued to do as I commanded, though under heavy protest. My bit my lip viciously as the stitch on my side made itself painfully known, but I didn't falter as I turned one way and then the other, looking for my least favorite professor.
I scanned the surrounding area, eyes darted around the barren land searching for him, but all I saw was white. Twisting in place, my heels knocked against something hard and I tripped over it, my arms spinning widely as I tried and failed to catch my balance. Hitting the snow hurt more than I thought it would but landing partially on stone hurt even more.
My damaged hands clung to the outside of the blackened rock, melted smooth with dragon fire into a bowl shape. Bloody fingers caressed the smoothed rim, slipping along its surface as I tried to get enough leverage to sit up, aching ribs painfully protesting the movement. The large grey oval stones inside caught my attention and I found myself staring at them dumbly as I fought to process what I was seeing. Those were…those were eggs! Not just any eggs, but Horntail eggs. And there, right in the center of the group, was the golden one.
I hadn't really had the time to look at it before, but now that I was close enough to touch it, I saw that it was rather beautiful. The fake egg was just a little larger than the others, and there were pictures carved into the sides. It looked like a village of some sort, but not any that I had ever seen before, with lines crawling up the sides like leaves. What looked like an overturned flower decorated the top, six small petals around the tip, three just touching the egg but not molded to it, and another three carved deep into the surface, alternating between them.
I leaned closer to get a better look and realized that the top must twist somehow to unlock what was no doubt the clue to the next challenge. Shuffling closer still, I saw that at the center of the upside-down petals wasn't a stem…it was actually the face of an owl. My fingers reached to touch it, to twist the face and see what lay inside, but my hair shifted in the faint wind, leaving a gap that I could just see through. A large dark form caught my attention from between the strands of my hair and I turned to see it. Something massive lay just behind the nest and I ducked back into the snow as I realized that the dragon was right on the other side.
Heart pounding in my chest, ears thumping with each beat, sounding as loud as drums as I pressed sweaty and bleeding palms to my mouth to quiet my dangerously noisy breathing. Any moment now the shadow of the Horntail would fall over me, that deep rumble in her chest would fill my ears, and fire would turn me to ashes. Any moment now…
I waited and waited. My heart gradually slowed in my chest, and I no longer needed to press my hands to my mouth to quiet my breathing. Still, I waited some more, but nothing happened.
Cautiously, I peaked my head over the lip of the nest and took in the massive form of the dragon. "Potter!" Snape called and I flinched back suddenly as if struck, ducking back down. I crouched so low that I could feel the bitter cold of the snow melting against my cheek as I tried to make myself as small of a target as possible. "Potter, where are you, you daft girl!"
"Shh," I hissed the sound between clenched teeth and prayed that the Horntail didn't see me.
"Don't shush me, you impudent wretch," he said with a low rumble, his voice quiet as he drawled the words. I clenched my eyes shut tightly, already knowing that a load of points were about to be taken away from Gryffindor. Snape only got quiet when he was truly furious.
"Snape, be quiet," I whispered, trying to peak around the nest without catching the Horntail's attention. I could hear him spluttering in outrage and continued before he could do any more damage. "The dragon, the dragon is still here."
Silence met my words and I could hear some shuffling coming from the nest. I was too scared to see if it was my teacher or the Horntail, and only lay there, pressed against the ground, as my heart started to slow back down to a reasonable pace. There was no way we hadn't drawn the brood mother's attention…so why hadn't she attacked, or roared, or done something? Maybe she was asleep?
Taking a few fortifying breaths, huffing each through my nose as if that somehow made a difference, I strapped my Gryffindor courage on like armor and peaked over the nest once more. My hands bled into the lip of the smooth stone, but I hardly noticed. I didn't notice the cold, nor the wind, nor the colors of the sky as the sun began to set into the horizon. The only thing I noticed was the Horntail.
She was as if a small mountain had dropped from the sky, huge and motionless in the wind, her hide dark against the white landscape. I found myself staring at her in confusion as she lay there, so still and unmoving. And then I remembered what It had told me, in that other place, the one in between the tournament and here.
Dead, not dying.
So, It hadn't lied. The dragon was dead after all.
"Snape?" I asked quietly, afraid still that speaking would somehow bring the dead dragon to life and kill me. "Snape?" I asked again, a little louder and more confident when the dead dragon didn't move, and nothing happened.
"It's Professor Snape to you, Potter," he replied just as I pushed myself back up until I was kneeling over the nest, my eyes darting around the barren wasteland. Large flakes of snow were slowly drifting down from the cloud covered sky and already I could see it begin to settle over the nest and the dead brood mother. Of my teacher, I saw nothing. "What of the dragon?"
"Dead, I think," I said in reply as I glanced back at her. She still hadn't moved, not that I expected her too…but somehow I couldn't seem to let go of my fear, even while staring at her gaping chest cavity and the empty space her back half should have been. "Snape? I mean, Professor?" I corrected. I was beginning to think I was hallucinating my least favorite professor as I looked around and found nothing. "Where are you?" I asked, half convinced I was starting to lose my mind.
"Here!" He said with a harsh snap, his tone transporting me right back into the potion's classroom. I found myself bristling in indignity just from habit. "Down here, you dundering idiot!"
I let my gaze fall down into the nest by my feet and only saw stone grey eggs around the larger golden one. Snow was beginning collect upon them, dusting them in a soft speckling white. A foggy huff of irritation left me before I realized part of the white was moving. I leaned forward on my knees, my legs nearly buckling as my thighs burned from exertion. The muscles twitched from overuse even as they started to stiffen from the cold.
Once closer to the nest, I could see other colors than just white. There was a deep purple, shades of blues, and a lighter glacial teal moving in bit of white in the snow. It wasn't until a pair of dark purple eyes laced with bright green that actually glowed – because what the fuck – blinked up at me that I finally put the pieces together. I was looking at a tiny dragon.
"Don't just stare, you imbecile, assist me up!"
And the little reptile was speaking to me…with Professor Snape's voice.
I rubbed at my eyes, cold fingers stinging the sensitive skin as I pressed in hard enough to see spots. When they cleared, the image hadn't changed. A tiny dragon was still talking to me with my professor's voice.
"Uh…" was the only reasonable reply my brain could begin to put together as I gazed at the impossible image before me.
"Eloquent, as always Miss Potter," he said, voice drawled in irritation. "But if you could find time in your busy day to assist me up, I would gratefully appreciate it." Snape bit out the words as if he were insulted that he was forced to speak them.
"Uh…" I replied again, but my hands fluttered forward before settling uncertainly back into my lap. "Sn-Professor," I started cautiously. "It's just…"
"What is it, Potter?" He said with a snap, his little head swaying side to side as his voice took on a hissing quality to it not unlike Parseltongue.
"It's…you're…well, you're tiny."
The purple eyes blinked up at me, a clear membrane sliding across each eye with the exaggerated slowness in the movement. Evidently, a dragon could display a proper amount of annoyance with only their face. The last dragon that was annoyed with me just tried to set me on fire. If Snape knew how to breathe fire, I think I would have already been a pile of ash and blackened bone.
"Look," I said quickly before he could think of something else to say that would be along the lines of my questionable intelligence. "I'm not trying to have a lark here, I mean it literally. You're quite small." I scooped my hands underneath him and lifted before I lost my courage.
I stood, his small body incredibly warm in my hands, chasing away the lingering cold as I pulled him up to eye level. The dragon spluttered in indignation, dual thumbs on either wing digging into my exposed wrists as his tail thrashed behind him. He was perched awkwardly on my palms, swaying back and forth as if uncertain how to balance himself.
Though the size of a small cat with a tail three times again his length, he weighed only a few ounces at most. My arms didn't strain at all to hold him, and yet I found myself pulling them in closer until he was only inches from my torso. The heat he put off was more than enough to chase away the chill that had settled in.
"What is this?!" He shouted in alarm, a duel toned shriek echoed behind it, leaving my ears ringing. "Potter! What have you done?"
That was the crux of it. I could feel his panic edging into my mind and suddenly I remembered everything. Oh Merlin, what had I done?
