Thank you for the encouraging reviews, all, this was a particularly difficult chapter for me, and with finals lately it certainly took longer than anticipated, but we're here now and I don't really have any other comments outside of appreciation for the support I've received so far!
So here's Chapter 19, hope you enjoy, and as always please read, review, and follow for future chapters!
The world rarely seemed so drab and bleak to Harry, and it wasn't because of the dingy conditions of the Quidditch pitch changing rooms. The Gryffindor team sat inside on old creaking benches, digging through lockers and quietly killing time as they waited for Professor McGonagall to finally arrive. After their Head of House had commanded them to wait for her in the dim room while she dealt with the fiasco outside, Johnson had tried valiantly to spark conversations and ease their tensions. The cold responses, however, particularly from Harry, decidedly ended her attempts and resulted in the awkward silence they now all shared.
The footsteps and voices of retreating spectators had long since died when the Transfiguration instructor at last joined them, throwing aside the burlap curtains as she marched inside and tearing the red and yellow striped scarf from her neck. To his unsurprised dismay, Harry and George were the first ones found by her furious eyes.
"Explain yourselves." Harry had never known a voice that quiet sound so dangerous.
"Malfoy was having a go at our families and Harry's mum." George answered without a hint of remorse.
"I don't care if he insulted everyone you've ever known, Mr. Weasley, there is no excuse for yours and Mr. Potter's appalling muggle behavior!" she retorted with a look of sincere disgust.
"But Professor, we didn't put a finger on him!" Harry begged.
"Because the dragon was misguided enough to intervene," she simmered, the rage behind her eyes threatening to overflow at any moment.
"His name is Jake…professor," Harry corrected her indignantly, quickly adding more formality at her deathly glare.
"Jake was a fool." The ice in her voice reached Harry's very core. "Even though they were already intending to leave, they will never return to Hogwarts now that Professor Umbridge has all the cause she needs to vindicate them until the end of time." Harry noticed she struggled greatly mentioning the toad's name through clenched teeth. "All of this because you could not manage to control your tempers for even a moment."
"But Professor…" McGonagall raised a hand to stop Fred.
"I'm not finished, Mr. Weasley," she continued, raising a rolled piece of parchment in her hand. "The High Inquisitor," again, she hissed the name with a tight jaw, "insisted I inform you that she now has direct control over student punishments and has banned you three," she pointed with the parchment at the Weasley twins and Harry, "from participating in Quidditch."
And then the room erupted with deafening shouts, Professor McGonagall unflinching and immovable in the center of it all.
"Professor, that's ridiculous!" Johnson pleaded desperately.
"She can't just do that!" Katie cried.
"It was the Slytherins' fault to begin with!" Alicia argued.
"It's bloody unfair!" The twins yelled in unison. Beside them, Ron paled markedly and looked on the verge of vomiting. Professor McGonagall closed her eyes in irritation before raising her flat palm into the air, the action rounding them all back into unified silence.
"Professor McGonagall," Harry pleaded, feeling as though he were sinking into an icy lake, "you can't let her get away with this…maybe Professor Dumbledore…"
"The decision is final, Mr. Potter, and you have only yourselves to blame," she answered, as upset as any of them with the outcome and turning to leave the room.
The pitch was completely abandoned and the afternoon well underway by the time the Gryffindor team slunk out of the changing rooms, Professor McGonagall at the front and stomping off ahead to the castle. A light snow had begun to fall and the fields around them already had a light dusting of powder as they crunched up the hill, all of them refusing to speak until Ron nudged Harry as they neared the castle doors.
"Leave it, Ron," Harry responded testily.
"No, Harry, look," Ron said softly.
"What?" He turned back to see his friend looking in the distance towards the Forbidden Forest. Following his gaze, Harry found Hagrid's Hut with a small curl of black smoke swirling from its long dormant chimney. Without a word, both of them charged down the lawns until they were almost at his doorstep. Harry noticed a trail of footsteps that mimicked their own path, fading slowly as snow continued to fall and slowly burry them.
"Someone else is here," Harry muttered, the two of them slowly climbing the steps to the front door.
"D'you think we should still go in?" Ron asked carefully. Before Harry could answer, the door swung open and a booming voice greeted them both.
"Well don' just stand there, you'll freeze ter death!" The two of them grinned at the sound of Hagrid's voice, but quickly blanched as they looked up and found his mutilated face, covered in cuts and bruises with his thick beard crusted in what looked like copious amounts of dried blood.
"Hagrid, your face!" Harry yelled, stopping as he and Ron were roughly shoved inside by his massive hands.
"Go on, get in then," he ushered them. "I was wonderin' when you two'd show up, Hermione beat you by a long shot." As he said her name, they both saw her seated at his giant table with her head raised to watch them enter, a large mug resting beside her while she toyed with her fake Galleon.
"There you are," she welcomed them flatly.
"When'd you get here?" Ron asked, walking over to take up a chair as well.
"Hermione got here right after the match. Bloody quick, she was. What kept you lot?" Hagrid addressed them, placing a mug in front of each of them and setting his kettle on the stove. He pulled his own large chair out from the table and dropped into it, slapping an enormous slice of meat over his swollen eye. Harry didn't have the courage to ask what it was or why it dripped with thick green blood.
"That's right, what did McGonagall say?" Hermione asked , now significantly more animated.
Both of them immediately grimaced with distaste, Ron finding the strength to answer her first. "McGonagall was furious, but Umbridge was the real problem. She's banned Harry, Fred, and George from playing."
"That's outrageous! Only the Heads of House or the Headmaster can punish students like that!" Hermione scoffed .
Harry shook his head sadly. "Apparently she's got another Educational Decree for it, and McGonagall said she's bound to ban the dragons from coming back too."
"From coming back?" Hagrid copied him. "You mean they've already gone?"
"Yeah, they had to leave for something. Jake was already packed by the time he showed up," Harry explained.
"Blimey, well tha's just great," Hagrid jeered, tossing his hands in the air, blood from his odd steak pattering around the room. "Now where'm I supposed to get help with…er…" The others watched him give them careful looks, stopping his thought short and grumbling to himself. "I just would've like to have met 'em is all. Terribly misunderstood creatures, dragons…"
"You think they were tired of watching us?" Ron worried. Hermione's unspoken answer died as Harry replied first.
"No idea. He said he'd join us this morning before the game, but none of them showed for breakfast."
"And when did he say that?" Hermione asked skeptically.
"Well, I talked with him yesterday to sort of apologize, and he said he'd come to the match…but I wanted it to be a surprise!" he tried to explain as Hermione looked increasingly betrayed.
"That would have been nice to know before the game, I might've at least played remotely decent," Ron complained.
"We won, didn't we?" Harry shot back, though it did little to dull Ron's glare. He sighed with frustration and conceded, "Not that it matters. We've got no Seeker, no Beaters, and no dragons."
"They left because the Dark Dragon attacked their countries," Hermione finally answered in a wispy tone, gazing out of the window and rolling the coin in her fingers. Hagrid sat with a puzzled look, but Ron and Harry watched her in surprise as she turned back to them solemnly. "Jake told me before you caught the Snitch. He said that they had to go home and deal with him, and he promised they'd come back. But now…with Umbridge…"
None of them spoke for a bit, sitting in the quiet of the hut until Hagrid's kettle began to whistle and the half-giant jumped up to pour their tea. Seeing him in a fresh light reminded Harry of another question that still burned in the back of his mind.
"Hagrid, where have you been? And what happened to your…you know…" he asked carefully, pointing at his own cheeks.
Hagrid quickly straightened from pouring into Ron's cup, steaming water flying from the spout of the kettle and splashing onto the unsuspecting ginger. He cried out in pain, trying to brush off the burning liquid as the Gamekeeper answered in a practiced fashion, "Nowhere, I was on vacation."
Hermione sighed loudly. "Hagrid, you've already told me. I'll just tell them if you don't."
Hagrid cast a spiteful look at her. "Right, o'course…you lot are too nosy for yur own good, you know that?" They all gave accepting nods, and he rolled his eyes before continuing, "Fine then, I was…"
Loud rapping sounded from Hagrid's front door. They all froze and watched as he set his kettle back down on the stove and approached the wooden slab, gruffly yanking it open. The three of them shuddered at the sight of Professor Umbridge waiting expectantly on his steps.
"Hello…er…" he greeted automatically, confused at first by the apparent lack of any visitor until he looked nearly straight down to find the tiny woman. "Oh, there ya' are. Who are you?"
Her face was devoid of any emotion. "Dolores Umbridge, Hogwarts High Inquisitor and Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. I presume that you are Rubeus Hagrid?" She didn't wait for a response before stepping beside him and entering the small hut, her eyes squinting as she saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione seated at the table. "And what are you three doing here?"
"They're my guests," Hagrid answered at the same time that Hermione responded, "We're visiting Hagrid." Umbridge looked between them, curious at their hasty replies.
"I see," she said shortly, turning to look at Harry while her fake little smile appeared and pulled at her cheeks. "I trust that Minerva informed you of the consequences for your behavior?"
Harry felt the heat rush to his head and drew malevolent satisfaction at the sight of her disheveled hair, along with the grass stains and dirt still caked on parts of her clothing from her 'talk' with Jake. "Yes, she did, thank you Professor."
"I think it's time for us to leave, Harry," Hermione said, quickly standing and motioning for them to follow her. It took Harry a moment to tear his hateful stare away from Umbridge as he rose to meet them at the door. "Thank you very much for the tea, Hagrid, we'll see you in class Tuesday." Without another word, she pulled Harry and Ron outside with her, pulling the front door closed behind them as Umbridge's voice chased them out in a disgusted tone, "What happened to your face?"
The three of them briskly walked back up to the castle, the afternoon light fading fast and the snow still steadily building around them. "What was that for, Hermione?" Harry complained. She sighed in exasperation and gave him a disappointed look.
"Because knowing her, she'd push you until you retaliated. We've already lost half the Quidditch team and the Dragons of Draco Isle, Harry, the last thing we need is to have our D.A. teacher trapped in detention." His neck started burning at being called a 'teacher', the term feeling so respectful and beyond his stature.
They all passed through the doors of the castle, the melting snow on their boots squelching beneath them. "So are you gonna tell us about Hagrid or what?" Ron asked
She looked over her shoulder and around the corners to make sure there weren't any curious onlookers before she answered, "It was what we thought. He went to parlay with the giants somewhere in France, trying to convince them to join Dumbledore against You-Know-Who."
"I'm guessing from his face that they weren't all that convinced," Ron said sarcastically.
"Actually, he said things were going well at first," Hermione answered half-heartedly. "It took a turn, though. In the end, he couldn't get any of them to join, but he said he'd left without a fight."
Harry didn't buy it. "That's a little hard to believe, Hermione, he looks like he went and cuddled with the Whomping Willow." They had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady and waited for her to fully swing forward before stepping into the round hole beyond one at a time.
"It is rather strange…and he was acting very defensive any time I brought it up," Hermione thought aloud. "I feel like there's something else he's not telling us." The common room on the other side was a sad sight. Decorations were scattered about, half hung in celebration, while the students inside filled the furniture with crossed arms and disappointed faces. When any of them looked at Harry, it was with anger and distrust.
Word travelled through Hogwarts much more quickly than Harry would have ever liked, and it was clear that all the Gryffindors likely knew of Umbridge's most recent decree. He briskly walked through the room and escaped up into his dormitory.
"Harry!" Ron called after him as he hurried into their room. He promptly sat on his four-poster, unsure of what to do with himself as Ron entered after him. "You alright, Harry?"
"Yeah, I'm brilli-AAAHHH!" Searing pain was engulfing his head, his hands clawing at his scar. Wild cackling was filling the air far off in the distance, and he realized as he slowly opened his eyes that tears were streaming down his face.
"Harry! HARRY!" Ron's voice guided him back to reality. He slowly sat up, the pain in his scar dulling to a steady throb, and dragged himself back to lean on his pillows. He tried to calm his labored breathing while Ron fretted over him. "C'mon Harry, say something! Was it You-Know-Who again?"
"Yeah, I…I think so." He set his glasses aside and wiped off his face, still carefully rubbing his scar. "Something's happened. I don't know what, but he's happy…really happy." Ron simply watched him with worry, completely powerless to help him through his pain. A deep sense of foreboding ate away at Harry, one that surpassed even his discomfort during the Hogsmeade attack. He did his best to ignore it as the evening dragged on and he recovered, even managing to lose himself that night to the familiar dream of the black corridor with the ebony door at the end that, as always, was just barely out of reach.
Yet over the following days his apprehensions failed to subside and his chest ached with uncertainty and fear. One thing that he was sure of more than anything, however, was the importance of the D.A. meetings. If (or rather when) something like the dark shades attacked again, they would all need to be prepared. They'd only barely managed to escape before, and that had been with the help of their reptilian guardians.
But now…well, now they were on their own.
New York City had an enormous park complete with plenty of secluded spots perfect for hidden workouts and training. It also had several guarded rooftops high above passerby and away from prying eyes that were equally suited to the task. Gregory couldn't help but wonder, then, as he stepped backward into yet another foul, congealing puddle of who-knows-what, exactly why Natalya insisted on conducting their exercises in the single most disgusting abandoned warehouse he'd ever had the misfortune to step inside.
"Again!" she yelled, pulling hard on one of the several thick iron chains that dangled from the rusted rafters. It clanged loudly, winding around a beam above as a few sheets of thin metal, impaled and dangling from industrial hooks, swung lazily into Gregory's line of fire. Bracing himself and inhaling deeply, he took aim and hurled a fireball at each. The sheets rattled at the impacts and sported new black scorch marks as each attack found its mark. Gregory, reveling in his accuracy, allowed himself a victorious smile.
Natalya, on the other hand, scowled in frustration before gruffly tossing the chain down and stomping toward her student. Even though they'd been paired as student and master ever since he first developed his dragon abilities, Gregory was still intimidated by Natalya on a daily basis. It was hard not to be; the second reserve Russian Dragon was a fierce warrior and an even fiercer teacher. She stood tall, a stone gray beast with onyx-black spikes forming ridges on her skull and back with similarly black, varicose-like lines erratically crossing her scales. The patterning made Natalya look as though she were literally made of granite, as if her unbending personality weren't enough.
As she approached, Natalya tore one of the metal sheets roughly off of its hook. She came to a stop in front of her fern green and brown striped student, holding the target out for him to see.
"This is all?" she chided him in her thick Russian accent. "It is cold as ice. How many times I have told you: more breath, tight throat, more force! You will never make strong fire with lazy technique!"
"We've been at it for hours, Nat…" he griped.
"Do not call me that," she said habitually, as she did every time Gregory used the nickname.
"I'm really trying here, you know that!"
"No, trying is doing as your Dragon Master tells you." She gripped his arm and dragged him forward to face one of the still hanging metal sheets. "Again, more breathe," she patted his stomach and waited for him to grudgingly take a deep breathe. "Tight throat," he gave a strangled squeal as her clawed hand flew out and caught his neck in a crushing grip. "And more FORCE!" Her free arm slung around his torso and her choking hand aiming his head, she squeezed his body with extraordinary strength like an oversized, winged bagpipe.
A plume of bright, searing fire roared out and engulfed the metal, quickly turning it into molten slag that oozed to the floor. Satisfied, Natalya relinquished her pupil, who fell choking and gagging on his knees. She walked forward to stand by what had once been the metal target and, gesturing to the liquefied mess, lectured, "Proper technique makes proper results. You have strength, Gregory, but lack confidence. Dragons cannot hold back, cannot let fear stop them."
Gregory continued to heave, his mouth burning and eyes wide with shock (which wasn't entirely deserved, 'hands on' teaching was a staple for Natalya). The sound of her yelling in pain made him lift his head, however, and quickly rise to his feet as dark shapes appeared all around them, filling the spacious warehouse. His master lay pinned to the ground near the slag pile by a large, dark purple dragon with trailing whiskers and flaring eyebrows, its tail coiled around Natalya and slowly strangling her.
"Well if fear will not stop you, then allow me the pleasure," the dragon Gregory didn't recognize sneered, her voice sinister and lethal. The shadows around the room stood vigil as she dragged Natalya to the side, her face coming within inches of the molten metal while she struggled desperately to wrestle free of her captor.
"Back off!" Gregory yelled. He often had difficulty finding the motivation to fight, considering 'responsibilities' or the 'the greater good' weak arguments and instead convincing himself with the promise of admiration and respect. Now, however, he was filled with nothing but the burning desire to rescue his Dragon Master as he lunged toward their intruder, who laughed dryly in return and waved a lazy hand in his direction. Several of the shades surged forward to block his path.
Twisting his body as he charged forward, he slammed his tail into the figures like a spiked cudgel and batted others aside with beats of his wings. He had his weaknesses, but Gregory also knew his strengths and he used them to quickly dispatch his assailants. His foes dissipated, he turned to resume his sprint but was instead thrown to the ground by a blast of energy from a long staff in the purple dragon's grasp. More of the dragon's minions restrained him before he could recover and lifted him groaning in pain to his knees, only a few feet away from his pinned Dragon Master.
"Let…her go…" he gasped.
The purple dragon laughed. "Oh don't worry, she's not the one I'm here for. You'll make a much more compelling prize."
"No!" Natalya yelled with sudden energy. "Leave Gregory, take me Chang! The boy has done nothing, I am much better hostage!"
"Nat…" Gregory wheezed.
"But that's just it, I'm afraid, you're too good. We can't possibly take the chance of leaving you alive," she derided, drawing her vicious claws back for the final blow. "Any last words?"
"Last words?" a familiar voice scoffed above them. "But the party's just starting, y'all, Mac'Daddy Jake's in the hizzouse!"
Chang wheeled around from her quarry as four new dragons, grey cloaks flapping loosely behind them, soared through one of the larger holes in the roofing and circled high above them. Each one hurled a blinding stream of fire, melting away the gathering of shade demons and encircling the cavernous room in towering flames. The red and yellow dragon with flaring green scales running along his spine landed beside Gregory, who had never been so happy to see his obnoxious cousin before in his life. The others landed as well, blocking Chang's escape routes in all four cardinal directions.
"It was unwise to show yourself, Chang," Lao Shi called haughtily, "but we accept your surrender!"
"Let her go and come quietly, Chang, the jig's up!" Haley yelled.
They were all dumbfounded as Chang reeled her head back in thrilled, victorious laughter. "Indeed it is, fools!" She roughly chucked Natalya's limp body at Sun, drawing her staff up as they all moved to catch her and slamming it to the ground. An explosion of black smoke blinded them all.
"Master! Nat!" Gregory called into the inky fog as the air cleared and he found the Russian Dragon climbing to her feet with Sun's help. "Nat, are you okay?" She made a low, unintelligible moan. "What? Sorry, Nat, I didn't catch that."
"I said that is NOT MY NAME!" she roared at him. Gregory immediately relaxed, beaming with joy.
"Yup, you're alright," he laughed.
Jake flew down through the hole in the ceiling and landed beside them, growling in frustration, "No sign of Chang. Gramps?" Lao Shi flew in through the main entrance and shook his head, matching his grandson's disappointment. "Aw man," Jake groaned, his shoulders dropping.
"What's important is that no one was hurt," Sun consoled them, smiling brightly at Natalya, who grimaced and shook off the Korean Dragon's comforting hand.
"You're right," Jake brightened up, clapping Gregory on the back and applauding him, "You weren't half bad, cuz, you held your own back there!"
"Yeah, you aren't nearly as scrawny and pathetic as I remember, Greggy," Haley agreed with oblivious sincerity.
Gregory tensed, his teeth clenched and bared at their childhood label for him. "Don't call me that," he hissed, Natalya smirking ever so slightly next to him. They all turned away from their pleasantries as sirens picked up in the distance, gradually growing louder with every passing second.
"Oh, right, we should probably bounce," Jake commented aloud, looking around at the burning shell of the warehouse as it slowly began to collapse, piece by piece. Haley jumped aside with a yelp as a section of roofing crashed to the floor beside her in a mess of bent paneling.
"Nat?" Gregory asked his master with a concerned look, which she rebuffed wordlessly before taking to the air and leading their escape through the perforated ceiling as the creaking metal deathtrap crumbled around them.
"It is good to see you all, but why are you here? What happened to the mission?" Natalya called back to them while they flew above the wharfs and industries towards the suburbs, the sky streaked with the red of the setting sun as it inched towards the remote horizon.
"The Dark Dragon attacked Fred and Dominic's territory, leaving them no choice but to return to Sydney. The Dragon Council thought he would attempt something similar here, so we returned just in case. It would appear that their predictions were quite accurate," Lao Shi answered over the rushing wind.
"We stopped at the shop first thing after we arrived from the Isle of Draco and Fu Dog told us where you two usually trained. We thought it wise to check on you both," Sun added.
"Wise? It was genius!" Gregory laughed. "But next time, would it kill you to come a little faster? I mean, I like being at the mercy of a homicidal maniac as much as the next dragon, but…"
"Yo G!" Jake shouted over him, Gregory rolling his eyes in return. "Speaking of maniacs, what's up with Chang? I thought we threw her behind bars after Hong Kong!"
Lao Shi spat in Mandarin, and it sounded fairly vulgar from what Gregory could tell. "Unfortunately, young dragon, I too am unaware of how the traitor came to be free, though I am beginning to understand how the Dark Dragon may have escaped from Victoria Peak."
"We'll have to inform the Council and search the city over for Chang," Sun worried.
"Jake!" Haley shouted, pointing down to a familiar row of apartments and townhouses below them before falling into a steep dive.
"Later problems, Sun!" Jake yelled before following his sister, laughing wildly as he careened towards the earth. Gregory joined without thinking, soaring just behind Jake as they closed in on the brick townhome below and landed roughly in its small, city-scape 'backyard'. He released his dragon chi and transformed back into his lanky human body as Jake and Haley threw open the sliding back porch door and crashed into the kitchen beyond.
"My golly, back already Greggy? It isn't even six yet!" Jonathon called from the living room as he stood from the couch and turned the corner into the kitchen.
"Hey Uncle John, I…" he answered before being drowned out by yells of "DAD!"
The middle aged man was promptly tackled and ensnared in the bone-breaking hugs of two rather large and heavy dragons. He flailed as well as could be expected and his face was beginning to turn a worrying shade of purple, his two children still lost in their hysteria, when Susan began descending the stairs.
"Are you alright, dear? I thought I heard…" She reached the bottom level and turned to see the scaly dog-pile, her jaw dropping in surprise before she threw up her hands with laughter. "Kids!"
Both dragons snapped their heads up with broad toothy smiles and shouted "Mom!" as they leapt up from the floor, the relatively tall Chinese woman suddenly sandwiched between the two of them in a painful, yet impossibly happy, embrace. Jonathan managed to pick himself up, catching his breath and righting his glasses while steadying himself on the knocked over furniture.
"Now wait just one darn tootin' minute!" he said loudly with authority. All three of them ceased their cries of joy and watched him with surprised looks as, with his completely seriousness, professional tone, he sternly demanded, "You both know the rules! No dragons in the house, no exceptions, is that understood?"
Each of their faces was riddled with shock, but both Jake and Haley obeyed sadly, flames covering them entirely and leaving behind two, very human looking adolescents.
"Sorry Dad, we just…" Jake apologized meekly until he found himself and Haley trapped in the unyielding arms of his mother and father, taking their own turns at crushing their family with affection.
"Gotcha, Jakers ," his father joked, rubbing his knuckles into his son's unkempt hair. Jake laughed and threw his arm around his father's neck, returning the noogie twice over while Haley and Susan watched happily, the two still wrapped in their own embrace.
Jonathan finally managed to break away and both boys ran their hands through their hair with identical mannerisms, chuckling like kids. "So, how was the trip?" Jonathan asked casually. "Did you bring back any souvenirs? No wait, let me guess, it's a mug! At least, it's usually a mug…"
Jake shook his head and laughed aloud, easing down onto the still upturned couch. "You might wanna sit down, dad, cuz it's a long story."
Gregory still leaned against the patio door, the corners of his mouth pulled up into a sad smile, when a hand rested on his shoulder. He looked back and up into the slate eyes of his Dragon Master, standing firm as a human with sharp facial features and her chin length black hair tucked behind her ears. She watched him carefully with a bearing of deep sympathy.
"You are alright, Gregory?" she asked softly.
"Yeah," he sighed, turning back to the reunited family sitting in the next room. "I just forgot how good it feels to be home."
"You've got to be joking, there's another?" Hermione exclaimed.
Harry gave a simple nod and moved to the side, giving her enough room to go right up to the new addition to the Gryffindor common room notice board. Her eyes flew across the surface of the official looking document several times over before she crossed her arms and stomped over to the nearest window, pouting at her own reflection.
"Educational Decree 26," Ron read aloud beside him, taking much longer to reach the bottom of the parchment. "All creatures, magical and otherwise, including owls, toads…uh-huh…must be registered with the High Inquisitor…unregistered creatures will be removed from the grounds…students found with unregistered creatures will be expelled." He straightened up and turned to Harry, unfazed. "Well, we'll just get Hedwig and Pigwidgeon sorted, unless she blames the owls for those Quarreling Quills that got slipped into her desk last week."
"She doesn't care about our pets, Ron," Hermione said shortly, passing them by, leading them out of the common room and down the staircases.
"It's because of Jake, " Harry said simply. Hermione gave a stiff nod.
"It's exactly like Professor McGonagall said. They'll never make it back so long as Umbridge's still here," she affirmed.
"We'll just have to hope the D.A.D.A curse stays strong and she snuffs it by the end of the year, then," Ron said cheerily, and for once Hermione didn't reprimand him for the dark comment. They walked into the Great Hall and found their seats, but Ron uncharacteristically left the breakfast spread untouched and instead stared at their recently returned Gamekeeper, who was seated at the Head Table alongside the other professors.
"He really ought to see Madam Pomfrey," Harry worried, examining Hagrid's still very gruesome face.
"Hagrid…" Ron mumbled.
"Yes, Ron, Hagrid's back," Hermione dismissed him, but he slowly finished his thought.
"…he's a giant, isn't he?"
It took Harry a moment to understand the implications behind Ron's statement, at which point he dropped his fork with a dangerous look in his eyes. "She wouldn't dare."
"Of course not," Hermione responded, "he's only a half-giant, though she's still going to do everything she can to find a reason to sack him tomorrow. He doesn't know what she's like, her inspection will be awful." She leaned her head on one of her hands, drumming the fingers of her other on the table. "The way she treated him after the match Saturday, it was like she was talking to a dog. Like she…" Her voice trailed and shook with anger, enough to make Ron lean away in defense.
"Like she was talking to Jake," Harry finished.
Her fierce gaze focused on him, and Harry was certain that countless curses were flying through her mind when Angelina Johnson approached them with a paper in her hand. "Potter, Weasley, I've got…" she recoiled as Hermione spun around and fixed her with the damning stare, "…er, I've got the booking schedule for the pitch this week."
Hermione beckoned for it, and Johnson stiffly handed her the parchment. She looked it over briefly before informing them, "The soonest we can meet is Tuesday, Slytherin have the pitch reserved then. Why did you take up all of Saturday?" she asked Angelina curiously, who immediately threw a sour look at Harry.
"Tryouts," she said shortly, turning on her heel and strutting away. Harry stood to shout after her, but no words came to his mind and he merely gawped at her retreating form like a fish out of water. Hermione pulled out her Galleon as he sat back onto the bench and discretely slid her wand out from beneath her robes. A few motions and mumbled words later, she slid both back into her pockets and prepared to leave for their first classes that morning. Harry could now feel his own coin burning, alerting him of its new markings.
"Listen, Hermione," Ron addressed her carefully, though she gave no sign of having heard him. He grunted before struggling on, "You seem really upset about all of this, but come off it. I mean there's nothing we can do about it now, is there?"
She slung her bag over her shoulder and looked at him with a cold stare. "I will not come off it, Ron. God knows Umbridge won't."
She swept out of the hall, her hair bouncing against her back with her quick pace while Ron sighed in defeat. "She's bloody mental, you know that?"
"I know she's ticked," Harry answered with a small smile. As she'd passed beyond the doors of the Great Hall, Harry had seen her hand dive back into her pocket, no doubt to fiddle with the dragon-engraved, golden coin.
"A fat lot of good it'll do having her boiling over," Ron derided. Following Hermione's act, they picked up their belongings and began to make their way to History of Magic.
"Actually, I think it will," Harry considered.
"How do you figure?" Ron asked incredulously as they left the hall.
Harry turned to look at him, steadfast. "She's the cleverest of all of us, not to mention how she gets when it comes to S.P.E.W. and the dragons." He actually shuddered slightly and could tell from Ron's look of increasing terror that the same thoughts were running through his mind.
Harry gave a teetering laugh of concern as he reached for the door to Professor Binns's classroom. "If there's one person whose bad side I'd rather not be on, Ron, it's Hermione."
"Ready, Jake?" Gregory asked, pulling his jacket on over his head. Jake stood in the doorway to his house, looking out at the pale morning sky while some strange hesitation latched him firmly to the ground.
It was the same city air in his lungs, the same skateboard in his hand, and the same porch beneath his feet, as though nothing had changed. Yet Jake felt different, like a stranger on his own doorstep. He impulsively reached towards his neck to unknot the strings of his cloak in preparation for his travel, but his fingers found nothing. Looking down, he saw only his normal outfit and smacked himself in disappointment. Of course he wasn't wearing it now, why would he? No, it hung morosely in his closet, surrounded by old costumes, unused button-downs, and hideous sweaters, where it belonged.
"Actually, I'll catch you later, Greggy," he said, clipping his helmet strap below his chin.
Before his cousin could protest, he threw his board on the concrete and took off down the street at a brisk pace, his nerves easing on the familiar path. Gregory had been attending his same high school during his stay, a year below him, and Jake was confident that he could make the trip on his own, unless his return had for some reason suddenly destroyed his cousin's sense of direction. Besides, what he needed more than anything was to shake off his unreasonable apprehensions, which certainly wouldn't happen walking alongside his irritating cousin.
The clacking of his wheels on the sidewalk cracks and the thrill of weaving in and out of busy streets filled him with the renewed excitement that he sorely needed. The sight, then, of the two teenagers lazily skating down the road ahead of him only inflated his euphoria.
"But think about it, Trix! What does everybody like to eat for breakfast? Numero uno, pizza, and numero dos, donuts. It's perfect!" said the tall boy with saggy clothes and a posture to match.
"Spudinski, boy, listen to mamma Trixie, cuz I aint gonna say this again: they've already got pizza filled donuts and they're called Hot Pockets," the much shorter, darker girl chided him.
"Those tiny things don't count, plus they burn my tongue every time. So not cool…" he countered airily.
"You should try flipping them in the microwave, Spud."
Spud put a finger up to scratch the shell of his helmet, apparently in thought. "You know, that just might work, Jake." Trixie twisted around and flung herself spectacularly from her skateboard, tripping and skidding to a halt on the ground as the purple wooden board flew off down the street.
Jake sharply turned out of the way and came to a stop next to her. "Trix! Girl, you alright?"
"Don't you 'girl you alright' me!" she sassed, brushing herself off before pointing an accusing finger at Jake. "You've been gone for months without telling your homegirl where you at or when you're coming back, and then you show up to give Chef Spud frozen food tips?!" She punched Jake firmly in the shoulder, making him wince with pain and clasp the tender bruise.
"Yo! Trix, I told you I…" She threw her arms around him in a tight hug. Even though he'd grown a little throughout high school, Jake was still only barely taller than her and was well trapped by her embrace. "Okay, okay! I'm sorry! Uncle!" he laughed.
She stepped back with a smile. "It's good to have you back, Jakie."
"We're good, Trix, I got your board!" Spud called as he rode back to the pair of them, Trixie's skateboard tucked under his arm. He handed it to her and stared at Jake for a solid ten seconds before bellowing, "WOAH, Trixie look! I found Jake! Wait…I thought you were in England? But if you're there, and we're here, then…we must be in England too!" He scolded the girl with passive annoyance, "Trix, you really gotta tell me ahead of time when we travel internationally, I don't even think I have my passport…"
"Just can it broham!" she yelled, snatching her board and shoving him back in one motion.
Jake could only smile and raise his fist to Spud, who met it gladly. "Welcome back to the Big Apple, bud."
"I missed you guys, more than you know," Jake chuckled honestly.
"Oh snap, y'all," Trixie interrupted, checking her watch. "We'll have to do the whole 'reunion' thing on the way, baby, or we're gonna be late." And like that, the three of them were on their way, skating in line towards school passed bystanders and alleys just like they had for years.
"I thought for sure this place would be leveled by the time we got back. You guys must have really helped Greggy," Jake called ahead to them, their destination coming into sight a few blocks away.
"I wouldn't exactly say we helped him," Spud commented.
"Oh don't even get me started on that boy," Trixie sneered. "I thought I was gonna have to mess him up five minutes after we met."
"It was okay though, his dragon lady was pretty tough. She had everything covered." Spud explained.
"What about you, Jakie? How was the fancy 'magic school'?" she asked, waving her hands in the air dramatically as they stowed their boards and walked through the school's main entrance.
"What, Hogwarts?" He halted, distracted by the memories streaming in front of him. Looking up at glittering towers in the night sky, drinking butterbeer in a cozy room, soaring past witches and wizards on brooms with a ball tucked beneath his arm, a dome of shadow demons slowly closing in around him, the soot and confetti covered face of a furious little woman, Hermione beaming up at him and shaking his clawed hand…
"Dude, anybody home?" Spud asked, waving a hand in front of Jake's face.
Jake shook himself awake, pulling his hand out of his pocket where it had been twirling the golden coin. He looked down at the edge of the Galleon as it suddenly burned and saw the time and date updated, beckoning him back to that distant, wonderful castle.
Jake slipped it back into his pocket and gave his friends a shrug, sighing, "The food was bad, classes were boring, and there were plenty of chumps, so not too different."
Spud had his signature blank look, scratching the small patch of stubble on his chin. "Bro, are you sure you went to the right, uh, educational institution for adolescent sorcery?"
"Yah, playa, that place doesn't sound magical at all," Trixie agreed in confusion.
"I guess so…" he mumbled, his thoughts drifting again.
Jean...it's perfect.
"…but then again," he smirked, "…it had its moments."
There you have it! As per usual, if you had any strong opinions or comments about the material so far, I'd love to hear your thoughts in reviews and PM's. Otherwise, follow for future updates and sit tight for the next installment (it's gonna be a good one)!