The Outlaw
By: Tellemicus Sundance
Chapter 6—Town of Fire

July 9, 1996
Tuesday, 9:22am
Gloucestershire, Cotswold Hills

It had been several days since he had joined Darius Stone and fled London. Perhaps it was cowardly of him, but he was somewhat relieved to not have been there when the dragons arrived. He hadn't had to see them spend the past few days straight burning nearly every street and building of the great city to ashes and devouring many of the residents and people still trapped inside it. Harry knew enough about trying to fight dragons from his First Task of the Triwizard Tournament to know that he never wanted to fight another one if he had the choice. Was he a bad person to be happy at putting his own life above those who were unable to defend themselves properly and to flee when they needed all the help they could get?

Based on what fragmented news he was getting from the Muggle side of the crisis, the Hebridean Blacks had turned London, a vast majority of southern England, and even portions of northern France literally into hell on earth. Dragons of all species seemed to be rampaging everywhere now. There had been sketchy reports of Fireballs burning down towns and cities in China and all over the Oriental countries, Horntails were devastating Eastern Europe and the Middle East, and the Vipertooths were torching the rainforests of South America. And those were only the reports that Darius had told him about last night.

During his time with Darius, Harry hadn't really spent all that much time doing anything but some basic cleaning, chores, and some light studying of his school textbooks. He often went through these chores robotically because his attention was often more focused on the troubling questions that continually danced around his head. Like what was happening to him now.

He was lying upon the bed in his chosen room in the motorhome staring blankly down upon the Sixth Year Charms textbook he had sprawled on the pillows in front of him. He had originally come into his room after breakfast trying to find something he could do to keep his mind off of the subject of the revelations Darius had told him of. But before he even realized it, he had drifted off into thoughts and questions with no real answers that were spiraling around his brain and through his mind at quickly growing speeds. If ever Harry had been so conflicted about his feelings over a specific person that he ended up giving himself a massive headache trying to sort out his feelings, it was right now at this point in time with Headmaster Dumbledore.

Logically, Harry could almost understand the likely reasons why Dumbledore had told him that he couldn't use magic and that the Trace was still active. The man was merely trying to keep Harry safely tucked away inside Grimmauld Place, where he would be both less inclined to use magic or get involved in what was happening in the wizarding world. Both of which could potentially put him into a dangerous position because of his Undesirable status and Voldemort's presence. Plus the man was also likely trying to protect the wizarding world as a whole by telling Harry that he still couldn't use magic, and thus alleviate some of the temptation of using it in front of Muggles accidentally.

But there was an angry, rebellious voice whispering into the back of his mind. Why should he care if he used magic in front of Muggles anymore? They already knew about dragons! When the Muggles eventually returned and started to rebuild London, they'd probably stumble across the ruins of the Ministry of Magic with no idea what it was and start asking questions. Then there was the fact that Dumbledore had once again been making important decisions about Harry's life without consulting him in the least. Not trusting him to keep the Magical World a secret by sharing with him the important news of the Trace being destroyed. What would Harry have been able to do if he'd been discovered by Death Eaters or attacked by dragons while he was in Grimmauld Place alone and he had still been under the illusion of being unable to use magic?

It was these two impassioned sides of the argument that had been battling for supremacy within his brain for the past two hours with no clear end in sight. And it was giving Harry yet another of the worst splitting headaches he'd ever experienced, just short of one of Voldemort's mind-sheering tantrums.

Why was it that the older he got, the more complicated and unclear things got in his life? He could just barely remember how things had been back in his First Year. Back when Hogwarts, Dumbledore, and nearly everything in the wizarding world were the pinnacle of all things good and Light. Only Voldemort tainted things back then because he (and only he) represented everything that was truly Dark and evil in the world. But then, as the months and years slowly passed, things began progressing. The Light began acquiring ever deepening shades of gray. Now everything seemed to be just one big haze of gray.

He didn't dispute that Voldemort was still evil-incarnate and Dumbledore was probably all that stopped the Light from being cruelly oppressed, the trials and problems Harry found himself dealing with (especially since his exile from magical society) were leaving him confused as to which side he should support anymore. He certainly didn't and would likely never support Voldemort and his Pureblood campaign of genocide. But at the same time, his faith and trust in Dumbledore had been sorely damaged and burned since Voldemort's resurrection. How could he possibly support a man he just could no longer trust to keep him informed of the important issues that actually mattered to him? The current and most prominent of these issues was probably the whole debacle with the prophecy, which could've been avoided if the old headmaster had told him about it beforehand! Who cares if he was an almost-sixteen-year-old boy who had no business getting involved in such matters in the first place? Besides, they were forcing themselves upon him and not the other way around…usually.

Letting out a loud groan of displeasure as he felt his headache worsen, Harry pushed himself off the bed and headed over to the closet. After shuffling through his clothes that he'd hung up in there several days ago, he pulled out one of his more battered and worn cloaks. Along with an old pair of jeans and a simple red t-shirt, Harry pulled the faded black cloak on and turned to the vanity mirror. With very deliberate wave of his wand, he quickly changed his hair color to match Ron's striking red. But that was quickly hidden as he pulled the large hood up over his head, hiding most of his face under shadows.

Looking over the changes to his person, Harry nodded to himself in approval. Though the glasses and his natural green eyes were strong hints, Harry shouldn't be nearly as recognizable to his fellow wizard as he had been moments earlier. Just as Darius had strongly recommended he do whenever he wanted to go outside. As he was heading towards the door, he absentmindedly picked up his Invisibility Cloak and stuffed it into his belt. He needed to clear his head, and maybe a good long walk would help in that regard.

Harry Potter – Reign of Fire

9:30am
Hogsmeade Village, Three Broomsticks

Darius sat at a small table set out in front of the Three Broomsticks as he sipped his coffee. On the table in front of him was the latest news article of The Quibbler. The most prominent news of the day was still on the Hogwarts Express tragic last ride out of London and, more specifically, the Minister of Magic's death. A good portion of the article spoke of what a great and loving man the former Minister had been and that he had been cheated by death by being taken when he was finally showing his real worth as a leader of their society in their time of true need.

With Fudge's death, the Wizengamot had been forced to do something that hadn't been done for nearly seven hundred years. In the past, when the Minister of Magic had died while in office or had to resign for whatever reason there was, a substitute Minister had to be brought in temporarily until the Wizengamot made an official decision on the successor. That job usually fell to either the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement or the Senior Undersecretary of the Minister. Yet with the demolition and following relocation of the Ministry, the DMLE Head just didn't have the time to perform these higher duties. And for reasons not known to anyone, the former Undersecretary and current High Inquisitor of Hogwarts, Dolores Umbridge, had disappeared into the Forbidden Forest. She had apparently last been seen following Harry Potter and another student into the forest. It was believed that she'd been killed or otherwise incapacitated by the young Undesirable.

Thus, with Fudge's death, Scrimgeour busy pulling his Department back together, and Umbridge's disappearance, the job of substitute Minister had fallen by default onto the young and inexperienced shoulders of Percy Weasley.

Leafing through the pages and articles that were still praising Fudge, Darius fished for more information pertaining to what had survived of the dragon attack on the train. Apparently most of the merchandise did somehow manage to arrive at Hogsmeade intact, if a little scorched in some cases. The only real losses were in the form of some rare potion ingredients in the fire, which was what had caused the dragon to notice the train in the first place.

But that wasn't the only news he was looking for in regards to the dragons. Towards the back of the magazine, there was a minor article that was barely a paragraph long about how the Mundanes were in the midst of counterattacking against the dragons. It seemed that the Mundanes believed that the only reason the dragons had been able to get as far south and take over London as quickly and easily as they did was because the Royal military hadn't been able to respond quick enough to properly intercept them. But now, the Mundane soldiers were steadily marching through the barren wastelands and were mowing down all hostile dragons that stood in their way as they prepped to retake the dragon-occupied ruins of London with everything they could muster. The leader of the army said that he would sooner charge in with nothing but a pistol to fight the dragons alone head-on than to leave London and their nation in the beasts' talons. It was apparently a sentiment that was shared by nearly all soldiers in the army. Sadly, it didn't seem like the young, new Minister of Magic was interested in sending magical aid to assist the Mundanes in their endeavor.

Looking off to the side, Darius' gaze brought Hogwarts into view. Though he would admit that the castle was indeed a beautiful and magical site to behold, he couldn't help but feel a slight bit of pity for the children who were trapped within its walls. Trapped was actually a very appropriate word to be used when describing the children's situation. With the first dragon's attack on London, the Ministry's destruction, and the hundreds—if not thousands—of dragons escaping their preserves, it had been decided by the various teachers to keep the students safely tucked away within the walls of the school until the crises had been dealt with. At first it had only been a precautionary decision, but had probably ended up saving many of the students' lives when the dragons finally broke free. And according to some quiet talk he was overhearing from various Ministry employees who were likely also parents, the teachers had already decided to continue giving the students summertime classes.

'It's happening just as I'd hoped it wouldn't,' Darius thought to himself in resignation.

Maybe it was because of his own unique viewpoint of the situation, but Darius couldn't help but shake his head in disgust and resignation. But to him, it seemed like these were the wizarding world's first steps towards becoming far more unforgiving and demanding of its people and the poor Mundanes who were only scrambling for their own survival.

"Is this seat taken?" a tired voice asked from nearby, interrupting Darius' thoughts. Looking up, Darius saw that a young woman was standing in front of him with a tired but hopeful gaze on her pretty face. Curiously, her hair was long and a dull purple that was clearly unnatural.

Nodding towards the chair, Darius said, "Go ahead, miss. It's too quiet and gloomy sitting by one's self anyway."

The woman smiled as she took her seat, but Darius' gaze was instantly drawn up to her hair again. It was changing from that dull purple to a much brighter color, pink by the looks of it. So the woman was a Metamorphmagus? What a surprise. Taking a quick sip of her own mug of coffee, the woman said, "My name's Tonks. So, who are you?"

"Darius Stone," he answered. "So, Miss Tonks, what's got you so tired this early in the day?"

"Work," Tonks grumbled clearly. "I had to pull another all-nighter because of those damn dragons burning down everything of importance they come across. I'm actually on my way home after this."

"I see," Darius said. "It's too bad about the Minister. I hear he was finally getting his act together."

"Yeah," Tonks mumbled, clearly somewhat annoyed with the way the conversation was progressing. "Can't say I'm happy about it, but this is going to make things a whole lot harder for a lot of people not that he's dead."

"I'm curious, Miss Tonks," he said, turning to give her his full attention. "Why is it that this 'Weasley' kid is the substitute Minister when you've got a whole list of Wizengamot members, Department Heads, or Aurors who would probably be better at the job? This kid must be barely old enough to have learned to shave and he's already the leader of your nation? I'd imagine he'd be really clueless with how things are run in the Ministry."

Tonks was looking at Darius with a curious gaze before her eyes suddenly widened in realization. "You're not from Great Britain, are you? That's why you sound so funny, isn't it?"

"Guilty as charged, Your Honor," Darius answered, chuckling and sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm a born and bred American. I kinda got caught here when the shit hit the fan and can't leave yet because your Ministry hasn't reopened international travel yet."

"That's too bad, mate," Tonks replied, giving him a pitying smile. "But to answer your question, I guess you could say that Weasley is frankly the next in line to become Minister now that Fudge is dead. Merlin help us if he's allowed to stay as Minister though! The little prat's head'll probably swell ten times as much as it already is."

"I take it you know the kid," Darius said, dryly. Turning to look over at the construction that was taking place further up High Street, he absentmindedly asked, "How much longer do you think this new Ministry building is going to take before it opens for business? I really wanna get home to visit my family."

Nodding, Tonks too looked at the large building that being hastily assembled. The building was simply massive. So large that it actually had to be built on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. There was already an outer defensive wall that reached easily ten meters tall, a practical feature that spoke loudly of its medieval design origins and architecture. Towering well over the massive outer wall, various floor levels were visible and in different stages of completion. They currently reached as tall as ten stories and were promising to get even higher in some areas.

Though she didn't know the exact designs that were being used, Tonks did know that this new Ministry was being built in the shape of a heptagon (a seven-sided building), with one side to be used by one of the major Departments of the Ministry. And if her suspicions were right, the Minister's office was going to be located on a high tower in the center of the construct, overlooking the entire castle and Hogsmeade.

"Well, I heard that construction is going really well," she ventured. "I'd guess that it'll be open by the end of the coming week. I pray that it is because I can't stand working with a Three Broomsticks' room for an office!"

"But you're an Auror, aren't you?" Darius asked, gazing pointedly at her badge. "I'd think you wouldn't have been spending too much time indoors lately."

"You'd be surprised," Tonks muttered darkly as she took a long swallow of her drink.

Looking back towards the Ministry building, Darius chuckled quietly to himself as he noticed something. Seeing that he'd unintentionally gotten the Auror's attention, he nodded towards the building as he said, "Your new Ministry building reminds me somewhat of the US' Pentagon, our military headquarters."

"How so?" Tonks asked, genuinely curious.

"Because it's in the shape of a large pentagon, hence the name," Darius said, smirking at her confused expression. His smirk widened slightly as he watched her comprehension wash over her face. "Let's not hope your new Ministry is not named the 'Heptagon' or something."

Downing the last of his coffee, Darius stood and moved to leave. "Well, it was nice speaking with you, Miss Tonks."

Tonks just tossed him a halfhearted farewell in response.

Harry Potter – Reign of Fire

10:00am
Gloucestershire, near Tetbury

The countryside was remarkable. Harry would happily admit that he rather liked it here. The hills were gently slopped, grassy, and with an occasional stone wall or fence to divide it up into pastures and property lines. It was very different from the suburbs of Surrey from which he'd grown up in. It was quiet and offered a type of surreal peacefulness that not even Hogwarts could mimic. If not for the overpowering smell of smoke and the dense black column that he could see and smell rising from just over the hill he was standing upon, Harry would've loved to have lived and grown up here.

He knew he shouldn't be doing what he was, but he couldn't stop himself. For the past ten minutes, he'd been hearing the hissing roar of a dragon. The black smoke column that was pluming up into the air was growing constantly larger. And his 'saving people thing' as Hermione had put it was rearing its ugly head and forcing him to continue climbing the hill to see what was happening.

As he crested the hill, he came to an abrupt halt as he took in the sight before him. It was town of respectable size. He could see people running to and fro on the streets, screaming and running for their lives. Cars, buildings, and trees alike were aflame, broken and smashed, and there was multiple areas in the street and ground that were littered with craters from gas explosions or collapsing sewer tunnels. If not for the dragon that was circling overhead, the town might've looked like something out of a World War II documentary in Harry's opinion.

In some part at the back of Harry's mind, he realized that the dragon attacking was a Welsh Green. The Green must've been a juvenile because it was only half the size of any dragon he'd ever seen, but it was still as large as an elephant (not counting the wings of course).

He knew he should turn around and leave. It would've been the smart thing to do. He knew he should've just left and let the dragon do as it wished. How could he, an untrained wizard with a sad history of always getting into trouble with things he shouldn't have bothered with, possibly stand a chance against even a juvenile dragon? He may have had some experience with dragons, but that experience was limited to transporting a baby Ridgeback in a crate to the top of a castle and taunting a chained Horntail hen by flying around it on a broom. His experience with fighting against unchained and deadly dragons was limited to practically zilch.

Yet he still found himself rushing down the hill towards the burning town, wand in hand.

"I must be a glutton for danger," Harry grumbled to himself. That wasn't the reason that he was running forward, he knew. He just couldn't leave those defenseless people to fend for themselves against a dragon. Not when he had the power to make a difference, even if that difference was only in saving one or two people from the flying lizard. It was the right thing to do.

Rushing into the town while heaving heavily for a breath in the smoke-choked air, Harry looked around for where the dragon had gone. It wasn't too hard to spot the Green as it swooped over the buildings suddenly dropped down onto the street several blocks ahead of him. Ducking to the side so that it wouldn't notice him, Harry watched the dragon as it began pacing towards what looked like a church that was at the end of the street ahead of it. Why was it heading that way?

Slipping his Invisibility Cloak on, Harry hurried forward as fast as his tired legs could carry him. Despite the situation he was in, Harry couldn't help but feel annoyance wash over him. He had always been a great runner when he was younger, thanks to Dudley, but now he was panting like a dog and he'd scarcely done anything yet! How was he this out of shape?

Shoving that thought aside, Harry came to an abrupt halt as he heard someone yelling for help. Turning, he was a man trapped in an upturned car that was wedged between several others and the stone wall of a building. With a fast glance at the dragon, Harry gestured towards the car. With a swish-flick, it was up and floating over the piled cars and towards a clearer area of the street. But the weight and size of the vehicle was considerable, Harry had to release the spell after only a few moments, dropping the car not-so-gently to the ground some five meters away from where it had been. Satisfied with a job well-done, Harry continued his earlier goal.

As he neared the dragon and the church it was ambling towards, Harry realized what it was doing. Even from over the burning of the buildings and the chaos that was gripping the rest of the town, Harry could hear the screams and shouts of many panicked people echoing through the walls and broken windows of the church. People must've taken refuge in the church, whether for divine protection or the solid and strong walls it had. But now they'd basically served themselves up on a silver platter for the dragon to dine on at its leisure.

Scowling deeply, Harry moved off to the side and quickly scanned the area. The church had a small graveyard that the dragon was now making its way across, smashing tombstones and trampling the lawn. There were several trees lining the edges of the graveyard. And the church itself must've been almost a hundred feet tall with large windows on the side. This open area would most definitely work to the dragon's favor. But he didn't have a choice anymore.

Gathering his courage, Harry prepared to fight for his and the people in the church's lives.

Harry Potter – Reign of Fire

Church of St. Mary

Arnold Ericson had never been more terrified in all of his fifty years than he was at that very moment. When the old air raid siren had suddenly started screaming after fifty years of disuse, everyone in Tetbury had responded in the same manner, looking around in confusion. But the reason for the alarm was quickly made obvious when a hissing roar announced the arrival of a fire-breathing monster.

Arnold had taken his wife and their granddaughter and fled into the nearest structure that might've been able to withstand the monster. But they weren't the only ones to seek refuge in the church and a literal stampede of people began forcing their way into the old church. While his wife, Wendy, was kneeling before the altar and praying with all her might for the mighty Lord to save them from one of Lucifer's escaped pets, Arnold was busy trying to calm his and Allison's nerves. But the young four-year-old was sobbing hysterically in her panic and none of Arnold's words could reach her, though he doubted she could even hear him over the din of the other people packed into the church.

Due to how tightly packed the church had become, Arnold and Allison had been unintentionally warded towards one of the large windows, giving them a clear view of the approaching monster. Allison's already loud voice rose several octaves when she and many others near them saw the drooling beast rear up and prepare to unleash an undoubtedly powerful blast of fiery death upon them. For his part, Arnold was too frozen in terror to even consider trying to move or cower below the window. And that was how Arnold was able to witness the miracle Wendy was frantically begging the Almighty for.

The ground below the beast's left hind leg suddenly exploded, knocking the dragon off balance and causing its massive flame attack to go horribly wide, missing the church altogether. As the beast quickly recovered, the din of panic within the church began to quiet down as confusion set in. The dragon turned and looked around, nostrils flaring as it tried to seek out what had caused whatever happened. Unexplainably, it seemed to narrow in on a certain portion of the graveyard it was in and launched a wall of flames in that area. One of the tombstones suddenly seemed to grow and expand far beyond its original size, blocking and parting the flames. Then the enlarged tombstone jumped out of the earth and went rocketing towards the dragon. But the dragon was surprisingly agile and dodged away from the massive marble slab.

By now, the church was as silent as it could get, people were whispering frantically, trying to understand what was happening. Others were as enraptured in the strange occurrences that were happening as Arnold and Allison had become.

Arnold watched as a strange, lightning-like beam of light shot forward from behind yet another of the tombstones. Yet the lightning just bounced off the dragon like a ball off a wall. But the lightning distracted the dragon for the barest of seconds, watching it go flyig skywards before turning its attention back to where it had been attacked from. But during that split second, Arnold noticed something strange happening to the ground at its feet. Somehow it changed from the grass and dirt into something else. The dragon didn't seem to notice this however because it was still recovering from its dodge of the first tombstone. Thus, the beast stepped right into the changed earth, its foot and massive talons sunk a surprising distance into the stuff and then froze, as though the stuff had suddenly hardened.

Dragon let out a roar of rage as it realized what had happened to it. It tried prying itself out of the gunk but didn't seem able to. It was almost like its foot had suddenly been trapped within cement. Looking back in the direction that the strange occurrences were happening, the dragon blasted a large and powerful fireball. The fireball encompassed a large area before it suddenly and violently exploded, kicking up dirt, ashes, rocks, and tombstones alike.

Amid the flames and debris, Arnold witnessed a small figure seemingly peel itself out of thin air as it too went flying through the air. It landed heavily on its back and went into a tumbling roll. Upon finally spotting its tormentor, the dragon hissed furiously and fired off another fireball towards it. Surprisingly to Arnold, the figure recovered quickly as was able make a flying leap away from the fireball.

Landing a roll, the figure spun around and waved something long and thin towards the dragon. A bright flash of light shot from whatever it was holding and hit the ground to the side of the dragon, which caused it to erupt into a specular explosion. But the dragon didn't seem bothered by it. In response, it sent a wave of flames at the person. But the figure wasn't deterred; it dodged away from the fire by ducking behind yet another tombstone. After a moment's pause, the tombstone it was hiding behind suddenly expanded and shot towards the dragon. Unable to dodge, the dragon had to confront the large boulder and heave it aside with its own considerable body strength.

As it was doing this, the person rushed off to the side and started circling around the beast. As it was doing this, the person as chanting something in a language Arnold didn't know and waving its tool around erratically. As if in response to this, the area around the dragon's feet was quickly transformed into the same sticky substance, patch by patch, as the first trap. Inevitably, the dragon's remaining feet started getting caught in it as it tried shifting around to reach the nimble figure dancing around it.

After only a few minutes of this, the dragon had become well and truly trapped in the muck at its feet. The person, now standing safely behind it and well out of the dragon's tail range, flicked whatever it was holding. Heavy chains shot out of the tip and flew through the air, encircling and quickly tightening down on the dragon, pinning its massive wings against its torso and clamping its maw shut.

Now that it wasn't running and fighting, Arnold's slowly failing eyesight could finally make out some distinguishing features about the boy. And a boy it most certainly was, probably not even fifteen or sixteen years old yet! He had shockingly bright red hair and green eyes with glasses, which were only visible because the hood of his ragged black cloak had fallen back during the fighting. The strange thing that he was using to shoot chains and light out of was some kind of little brown stick or rod some kind. Though he wasn't tall by any means, his shoulders were hunched and his chest was heaving badly, like it was taking all he had just to continue standing upright.

Watching the dragon wearily, the boy raised its little stick up to its throat and muttered something. When he lowered it, the boy's voice was suddenly thousands of times louder than was humanly possible. "Everyone, get out of the church and run for it! I can stall the dragon, but it'll break free in only a few minutes! Please, run for it!" The exhaustion was obvious in the boy's voice, leaving no doubt in anyone's minds that the boy was telling the truth.

"Pakka," Allison said in a quiet voice that Arnold barely heard over the renewed din as the citizens of Tetbury rushed to heed the boy's advice. "Who is that?"

"Someone who is either very foolish or very, very brave," Arnold answered in a hesitant voice.

Harry Potter – Reign of Fire

He wasn't sure how he had managed it, but Harry had somehow come up with that scheme to trap the dragon on the fly. And now he had to forcefully concentrate with all his might to keep his spells at full power so that they could proper bind and hinder the dragon while the people escaped. Thankfully, the people believed him when he said that he couldn't hold it for long, especially because he was so tired. They were now racing out of the church and down the streets as quickly as their panic-infused muscles could carry them. Harry knew he was receiving more than just a dozen stares or two from the crowd as he continued facing the dragon with his wand level and ready. But he tried not thinking about it. If he did, he knew he'd start berating himself at the stupidity of his actions here.

A deep growl of foreboding rage from the dragon rapidly drew Harry's attention. Despite being chained and cemented to the ground, the dragon had raised its head and was glaring its blazing blue eyes at him as though it felt that it could suddenly develop basilisk death glare powers and kill him with a glance. But because it was staring at him, Harry noticed some small but curious things about it that he hadn't had time to see or care about earlier.

The pupils of its eyes were enlarged to several sizes that he was sure was too big to be normal. And though there was a clear and obvious intelligence within those sapphires, it was heavily tainted by overwhelming rage and hunger. Though he'd never actually seen a Welsh Green up close, he could easily tell that the scales of its hide were just a little to roughed up (like it had been scratching itself relentlessly) and the scales' colors seemed too dull to be considered healthy. Plus there seemed to be gallons of drool leaking out from the gaps of its clenched jaw and lips. Were those perhaps some symptoms of that Mad Cow's Disease that the dragons had gotten?

"What am I gonna do with you?" Harry asked himself quietly as he quickly glanced around to make sure he was alone. For the most part he was, but it seemed that some people had decided to linger behind to see what he would do now. Dammit, because they'd stayed, he just couldn't release the dragon and try to hide under his Invisibility Cloak. But he doubted that would've worked anyway since the dragon was probably gonna come after him when it broke free.

"Guess there's only one choice now," he muttered to himself. Flicking his wand off to the side, he summoned one of the enlarged tombstones and floated it above the dragon's head. "Sorry about this," he said to the dragon, feeling honestly apologetic as he dropped the large stone upon its head and knocked the dragon unconscious.

Finally relaxing his hold on his various spells that were pinning the dragon, Harry collapsed to the ground and panted heavily. Panting loudly, he barely had the strength to groan out, "I…hate…fighting…dragons… Why…couldn't…it have…been…hippo…griffs…that wanted…to take…over the…world?"

"What's a 'hippogriff', boy?" an unfamiliar voice asked from somewhere nearby.

"I thought…I told you…to run away…" Harry groaned out, not even able to open his eyes to see who he was speaking to. But he could easily guess that it was an elderly man.

"Pakka, who is this?" a young girl voice asked. "How did he do that?"

"I don't know, Allison dear," the man (Pakka?) answered. "Who are you, boy?"

"Why…do…you…" Harry started to ask.

"We just wanted to know the name of our savior, lad," an elderly woman said as she walked up to stand beside the first two.

"Savior…" Harry repeated slowly. Despite himself and his exhaustion, he found himself chuckling weakly at the irony of that word. "So…I'm a…savior…again."

"And what were you before now?" the man asked, both curious and rather cautious.

Rather than answer, Harry just chuckled. He was too tired to care anymore. He could feel the darkness creeping in around him and he couldn't help but submit to it, despite himself being surrounded by Muggles who desired answers and a juvenile dragon who could regain consciousness at any moment. But he was just didn't care at the moment, he slipped unconscious.

(Author's Note) That was a long-coming chapter. Harry vs. Dragon was something I'd wanted to do from day one of this story. How was it? I didn't want to turn Harry into some kind of super wizard and show just how limited he was at the moment. Oh, for those interested non-Britains, Tetbury is an actual town, as is the church.

I had originally intended to include a battle between the Royal military and the dragon that's taking place in Tetbury as a way of showing the differences between Muggles vs. Dragons and Wizards vs. Dragons. I obviously decided that it was a largely unnecessary scene for what I had wanted. But if any of you would like me to add that scene in later, just say so.

Now, truthfully, how many of you saw Percy Weasley becoming the new (temporary?) Minister coming? Not many, I'm sure! ;P

I'm opening a new poll on my profile for the next chapter. I would greatly appreciate all who read this story to take a look at it. Because I've reached an impasse for what I could do in the next chapter and what happens has the potential to drastically alter what happens in the future of the story.