Harry's hand had continued to sting after leaving Umbridge's office Thursday night. The blood quill she had him doing "lines" with was a temporary pain at first, but three nights in a row of carving the words into his own skin had now left the etchings of I must not tell lies scratched into his right hand, the cuts freshly formed. He refused to tell anyone about it, he wouldn't complain to his friends or professors and have Umbridge gain the satisfaction of breaking him. This was his burden, and he would carry it alone.
He was so focused on getting back to the common room that he nearly ran into Ron as he turned the corner toward the staircases. He was carrying his broomstick and the dragon Hermione had introduced him to was standing next to him tossing a Quaffle in the air.
"Oh, Harry! Finished with Umbridge for the night?" Ron seemed far too happy about something, and Harry was starting to wonder what he'd been doing out so late the past few nights.
"Yah, I just got out. What were you up to?" Harry asked curiously, though their Quidditch gear made the answer obvious. Ron hesitated and seemed unwilling to answer. Jake rolled his eyes and shoved him in the back. "Ron, dog, just tell him. There's nothing to be shy about," the dragon encouraged.
Harry was now almost worried when Ron let out a small breathe and stared at the floor answering, "Jake was helping me practice being a Keeper down at the pitch. I'm going to try out for the team tomorrow. Go on, laugh, it's alright."
"Ron, that's brilliant! Why would I laugh?" Harry asked, bewildered by his friend's reluctant behavior. A wave of relief broke over Ron, his face completely lit with a brimming grin. "How've you been doing?"
"Oh, he was terrible at first, but homeboy's got some mad skills now," Jake answered. Ron looked like he was torn between being offended and appreciative, when Jake's eyes widened slowly and he began moving his muzzle through the hair, inhaling at rapid intervals. He ended facing Harry, zoning in on the hand he had clapped against his side. "Harry, you're bleeding, a lot," he commented. He was right beside him before Harry had a chance to register his movement, examining the injury. Harry pulled his hand out of the dragon's grasp, but it was too late. "Umbridge?" was all Jake said.
He wasn't sure why, but he couldn't lie to the dragon. "It's nothing, really," he said, but Ron was now also examining the wound, his face contorting with revulsion and hatred.
"That filthy hag!" Ron burst, "She can't do this, Harry, it's torture!"
"Bro, you should have told someone," Jake said, "or at least McGonagall, or the headmaster."
"No," Harry refused with determination. "I've only got one detention left, I'm not going to let her win by whining to McGonagall or Dumbledore."
Ron was still furious, Jake looking unconvinced but replying, "Fine, but we're way past 'winning' with this, Harry." The dragon turned, undid his cloak, and flew down a flight of stairs to the nearest balcony, returning to his lair by the lake.
"You know Hermione's going to say the same thing, right?" Ron said as they entered the common room, fireplace still blazing as always. Harry was sure she would as they sat beside her and he dug out his materials, trying to do what homework he could. The fury and exhaustion threatened to overwhelm him, and the only thing keeping him focused on his work was a single hopeful thought.
Only one more day, he chanted internally, and I'll be free from her. Just one more day.
"Yo, gramps!" Jake called as he entered the central room of their cave. Lao Shi was waiting patiently at the table, a look blazoned in his eyes warning Jake of the oncoming reprimanding that he knew was long overdue.
"Jake, you have been shirking your responsibilities!" Lao Shi scolded, gesturing to the pile of books beside him. "I understand that you are working on your relationships with the students, but that does not excuse you from your studies." Jake was now beside him, under the light of the candle lit brass chandelier dangling above, and Lao Shi could see his stern expression. "What is it young one?" Lao Shi asked, his tone now one of concern.
The image of Harry's hand, bleeding and cut with the words I must not tell lies came back to his mind, sending a shiver through his spine. He understood Harry's need to keep this from the professors, but Jake couldn't keep his Dragon Master out of it.
"We've got a problem, G."
"Jake!" Hermione called to the red dragon as he glided over to the observation platform she was seated at. The sky was overcast again, dim light falling across the carefully trimmed field of the Quidditch pitch. "What on Earth are you doing here?"
Jake sat next to her, tying up his cloak as he went. "You didn't think I'd leave Ron hanging, did you? Have the tryouts started yet?" he asked, seeing a line of wizards floating in place by the three goalposts on the end of the pitch closest to them. The Gryffindor team was present in its entirety (except for Harry of course) and dressed in their red Quidditch robes, watching as two of their female teammates took turns hurling Quaffles at a smaller girl zipping around in front of the golden hoops. She wasn't even making contact with most of them as they flew by, and the ones she did manage to grasp quickly fell out of her hands.
"Yes, though they've only just started. Ooh, that looked like it hurt," Hermione squeaked. The girl had finally caught a Quaffle, only to have the momentum make her somersault and smack her head on the metal hoop behind her with a loud thwack. She floated off to the benches, letting the next contestant, a smirking older boy, take his turn. Ron was one of the last in the line, and he was fidgeting visibly as he waited. He watched wide eyed with fear as his competition went before him.
"He doesn't look very excited," Harry joked, though Hermione still looked worried. "Hermione, it'll be fine. Ron's gotten pretty good over the past few days, he'll blow them away."
"I know that he can," she sighed, "I just don't know that he knows that he can."
Jake couldn't argue that. The others before him went and finished their rounds, a couple of them performing very well from what Jake could see. Ron's turn came and it took him a good while to shake himself awake after his name was called. He daintily floated over to take his place between the hoops, his face as pale as though he was staring at death itself.
"Show'em what you're made of Ron!" Jake shouted, now standing on the bleachers.
"You can do this Ronald!" Hermione joined, clapping and whooping loud enough that several of the Gryffindor team members cast them sideways glances (particularly at the dragon now watching them). Ron nodded, the smallest of smiles pulling at the corner of his mouth, and turned back to the two Chasers, showing that he was ready.
The two girls whirled around and went halfway down the pitch before turning back. The first one came, Quaffle tucked under her arm, barreling straight for Ron as fast as she could. Her arm was a flash and the Quaffle was zipping through the air. Just before it could reach the leftmost hoop, Ron was there, his arm snatching out and grabbing it, gloved hand slamming against the Quaffle with a resounding smack. The next girl came with no pause, faking towards the right ring before chucking her ball at the tall center goal instead. Ron had hesitated and wasn't close enough to catch it, but still managed to smack it off course with the bristles of his broom.
"That's what I'm talkin' about!" Jake roared, spouting a plume of blazing fire straight into the air, startling Hermione out of her cheering.
"You can breathe fire?" Ron shouted as a Quaffle quickly soared straight into his chest and knocked the wind out of him. "Focus Weasley!" one of the girls called.
Hermione had cringed at the impact. "That probably hurt, too," she whimpered.
The rest of the tryouts went well. Overall, Ron had done at least as well as the other contestants and the team had conducted interviews with them all after seeing their flying abilities. Ron found Hermione and Jake waiting outside the pitch, and they were pleased to see that he was quite happy.
"Did you get it?" Hermione asked, full of anticipation and excitement.
"Dunno yet," Ron confided, clearly tired of waiting for the news as well. "They're still talking about it in the pitch, but I think they're almost finished."
"No sweat, you've got this dude," Jake said, offering his clenched hand to him. Ron thought he was giving him something and reached out to accept it, asking in confusion, "What is it?"
"No, no, it's a fist bump, bro. Like a hand shake," Jake clarified laughing. Ron suddenly understood and smacked his fist against the much larger, scalier one of the dragon. Jake looked to see the Sun was nearly set and realized that Lao Shi was probably getting impatient with him again when the Quidditch team walked through the burlap curtains of the pitch entrance. They trooped up to where they were standing and walked right on up to the castle, only Angelina, their captain, staying to deliver the news to them and the others, who were waiting patiently.
"We've decided, and thank you everyone for coming out today," she said with finality before turning to Ron. "Congratulations Weasley, you're the new Gryffindor Keeper."
Everyone else let out a collective groan or sigh of disappointment, while Jake and Hermione were cheering for Ron. To his credit, he didn't gloat or boast. In fact, he stood there, more pale than when he'd been performing, utterly speechless. Everyone was soon heading up to the castle, and Hermione was growing irritated at Ron's continued petrification.
"Ron, why aren't you happy? You got onto the team!" she cheered again.
"I…did? But…why?" he choked out.
"Because you rock, Ron! See, Hermione, I told you he'd do it." Jake joked.
She turned to him offended. "I never doubted him for a second! Honestly, Ron, you're starting to worry me."
The realization must have finally caught up with him as a smile exploded across his face, his body giving way to a strange jumping routine that vaguely resembled some sort of victory dance. "Gryffindor common room, butterbeers on me!" he shouted. Jake had never seen Ron so happy, and knowing that he'd helped him get to this point made it all the better. Jake was laughing, truly full of joy for the first time in what felt like a long while, but the thought of his grandfather waiting sobered him and he prepared to take his cue and leave.
"Don't party too hard. I'll see y'all later," Jake bid farewell.
"You won't be joining us?" Hermione said, clearly disappointed. "This is as much your accomplishment as it is Ron's, Jake."
"That's right!" Ron joined, saddened that Jake didn't want to stay. "I never would have pulled that off without you, you're a life saver!"
Jake was touched, sincerely. "I thought only Gryffindors were allowed to know where the common room was or actually go inside?" he asked, wary of their offer.
Ron waved off his objection. "We're prefects, Jake, no one's going to question it. Besides, the Dragons of Draco Isle are our honored and esteemed guests," Ron said in a very convincing impression of Stout's flamboyant voice. "What better way to treat our guests than invite them to our common room?"
Jake hadn't wanted to subvert Lao Shi's instructions so badly in a long time, but their invitation really was tempting. "Tell you what," Jake answered with a smirk, "I'll go clear it with the old man and meet you guys on the fifth floor landing, deal?" The two beamed at him, and so he unbound his cloak and took to the air, streaking towards the hole in the wall they called home.
He found his Dragon Master in his private room, meditating on the padded mat they each had in their rooms for a bed. "You are late again, young dragon," he said calmly as Jake entered the room and sat opposite him, opening his eyes slowly to take in the form of his rash grandson.
"I know, and I'm sorry gramps, honest," Jake said apologetically. "I promise, I'm not forgetting about my schoolwork. I've just finally got a couple of the students to treat me like a friend and…I need to ask a favor."
Lao Shi raised an eyebrow, indicating for Jake to continue. "I've been helping Ron Weasley with Quidditch practice and they just had tryouts for the Gryffindor team. He got the Keeper spot and they're celebrating and invited me to join them in their common room and I wanted to know if it was okay with you," he said in a rushed jumble, hoping that maybe if he said it all quickly it'd somehow appear more acceptable to his grandfather.
His eyes seemed to shine in understanding. "So they've invited you to their common room, hm?" he mused, twirling a few of his whiskers between two pinched claws. His eyes were closed in what looked like irritation and he was muttering something in Mandarin before he spat, "Bah, fine. But your assignments for this week will be finished by Sunday evening," he finished, one eye open and trained on his student. Jake was ecstatic and gave swift thanks before soaring back out of the cave once more.
The flight was short and he was soon ducking below an archway as he landed on the fifth floor balcony. Just as he was walking onto the staircase platform and tying his cloak closed, Hermione and Ron approached from the staircase below.
"Wow, that was fast," Hermione complimented, earning a coy wink from the dragon waiting politely in front of them.
"So where are we headed, oh great Keeper," Jake teased as they continued to ascend the steps. Ron shoved him (to little effect) and motioned for him to follow. From what he had heard, the common rooms were a secret to students of other houses and he wondered how this secrecy was accomplished. Soon they were on the seventh floor landing, standing in front of a large painting of an even larger woman who was eyeing the dragon before her with mixed interest and fear.
"Mimbulus mimbletonia," Hermione said to the living portrait.
"Yes, yes, go on then," the woman replied, waving them on as her frame creaked forward. Even after they passed the threshold, Jake had the distinct impression that she was somehow still watching him. They climbed through a round hole, which Jake was rather uncomfortable trying to fit through, until they reached the opening to a large, circular room filled with red and gold furniture and decorations, as well as a fireplace roaring in the corner nook. The room held a decent amount of students, though not nearly enough to fill it. Most of those present were warmly greeting Hermione and congratulating Ron on making the team as Keeper when Jake climbed down from the entrance.
Two tall read headed boys that had been passing around bottles filled with foaming amber fluid stopped dead when they saw him. "Okay, who let the dragon in?" one of them called over to where Ron and Hermione were. "Of course it was you Ron," the other commented before Ron even opened his mouth. He turned to his twin, adding, "They haven't even been here a week and the twit's gone and shown them our secret base."
"Oh shove off you two," Ron shot back.
"Now, now, is that any way to talk to your brothers?" the first asked sarcastically, the second continuing, "His teammates, no less."
"For heaven's sake," Hermione interrupted, stepping over to Jake's side. "Jake, these two are Ron's older brothers, Fred and George Weasley. Fred, George, this is Jake."
The two boys eagerly stepped forward, each shaking one of Jake's clawed hands, who looked startled and confused by their creepy twin-speak.
"Truly a pleasure." Fred praised.
"An honor even," George added.
"You know, you could be the new Gryffindor mascot, you've already got the color scheme and everything," Fred said pointing to the red and yellow pattern of Jake's hide.
"And we heard about what you did during your first class with Umbridge, good show that," George applauded.
Despite Fred and George clearly trying, perhaps much too hard, to lighten up the atmosphere, nearly every other Gryffindor in the room still had Jake fixed with fearful stares. Whispers were flying throughout the room, and Jake could hear them all with perfect clarity, whether the students were trying to hide them or not.
I heard it threw a desk and had to be held down…
Did you see it shooting fire at the players during the tryouts?…
It could eat you in a single bite…
No wonder Potter and Luna are all chummy with it; they're all dangerous loonies…
"Listen, Hermione, thanks for inviting me but this was a mistake," Jake turned back to the round portal entrance behind him.
"Nonsense!" the twins bellowed in unison, George continuing, "You've only just arrived, our scaly friend."
"You haven't even had any refreshments yet!" Fred reminded him, shoving a bottle into his claws. "Bottoms up!" they chanted, arms locked and guzzling their own drinks.
The foam at the top smelled delightful. Jake took a careful sip, the fizz and flavor dancing across this tongue. He could see what Stout's interest had been in getting a cup when they had first arrived, this stuff was fantastic. Before he knew it, he had chugged the entire bottle, now an empty glass clutched in his hand.
His thin, wispy tongue licking his lips, Jake shook his head in pleasure. "Oh, dang, this stuff is off the hook!"
"Atta' boy!" the twins cheered, now singing some tune about Hogwarts, much to the amusement of the onlookers. Hermione looked exhausted but was laughing at the show, and Ron was being assaulted with questions from Angelina about their Quidditch practice the following day.
Jake looked around at the cozy room, brimming with comfort and memories, and almost felt at home. His hand rested on the top of a couch that looked just like the one in his grandpa's shop, and he could see himself collapsing into it after a long day of training, Fu Dog walking out from the back room with a bowl of cheesy nachos, even Trixie laying on the floor trying to do her homework while Spud toyed with whatever artifacts he could find sitting around. Jake turned his head and caught his reflection in a hanging mirror, an enormous red dragon stuffed into a room filled with normal teenagers, snapping him back to reality. He was just fooling himself; this…place…would never be his home. Joyful laughter filled the air as he decided to make his escape before the eyes and whispers returned to him.
"Thanks again, Hermione," he said gently, putting his hand on her shoulder. She looked on the verge of falling asleep in her armchair, but perked up when Jake had said his goodbyes.
"You're leaving already?" she asked with a poorly stifled yawn.
"You need sleep," Jake laughed. She waved off the comment as Jake turned and gave Ron, who was now in a headlock from his brothers, a wave of his hand. Ron tried to return it, restricted in movement as he was. Jake slipped through the tunnel and beyond the portrait, standing once again on the seventh floor landing.
"I trust you managed not to break anything," the woman in the painting asked in a snooty tone. Jake thought it very high brow of a woman dressed only in a toga.
"Who, me? Pft, please. Give the Am-Drag a little credit," he whined sarcastically, undoing his second knot and making his usual show of leaping off of the platform. He was soaring back to the fifth floor balcony when he thought he heard a shout of pain that sounded just like Harry. He landed and poured all of his focus into his ears, trying to locate the sound. All he heard, though, was the creak of a distant door and the maniacal laughter of a wandering ghost.
The silence was absolute as Jake gave up and continued to the balcony. He had a suspicious feeling that, even after his promise to finish before Sunday, Lao Shi would not allow him any resemblance of decent sleep tonight.
As always, if you have any opinions or advice (positive or negative), PLEASE review and comment! Any feedback is great feedback, and it lets me know you at least cared enough to respond! This is my first fanfic, so I'll take what I can get.