The wind shredded against his lightly scaled cheeks, bring blood to the surface in a blush of dark red, visible even beneath the purple tinted skin. The ground dropped away, as strong wings beat through the air as steady as his heart beat. The 'thump 'thump' 'thump' and the hiss as the tough yet fragile wings sliced through the air like claws through soft flesh.
The trees looked like grass, and the humans and their houses became colonies on the ground. Bugs. They were everywhere, all relying on others to take the fall, to do the dirty work for them.
"Hey!- Where are we going?!"
No answer.
"HEY?!"
Several tries later, he was no closer to receiving a response than he was at the start. He even tried flaming the hand that was curled tightly around him, but loose enough to prevent crushing him to death. All that provoked was a squeeze and a reverberation through the heavy barrel chest. Like the fire that burned so hot wasn't worth anything more than a chuckle.
But to him, Harry guessed it wasn't anything more than that. Therefore, he had no other choice but to sit there jailed and be left alone to this thoughts.
Was it selfish of him to want to be happy? To be free of the burdens that society had thrown on his thin and drooping shoulders since infanthood?
It couldn't be wrong. Not since he had become the scapegoat for the ills of humanity. To face someone who is the epitome of the evils of their culture; to defeat that evil and cleanse them of the sins that they helped create. The hatred, and the love. They both worked together to create such a creature. But that's just it. No one was worth more than anyone else. And only fools thought otherwise. But humanity is foolish.
Every single creature on this planet- and most likely off it- is selfish. They all want something. Whether it be wealth, fame, power, to protect the ones they care about, or to live their lives unimpeded.
He was no different.
But that was something that was part of the nature of being alive. You couldn't exist or continue to live on without stepping on another's toes. Whether that was what would be their end, versus your own. Most people invariably chose themselves over others. But that was something to be expected. It was ingrained into their very consciousness, when all conscious thought fled, all that was left behind was instinct. Animals are just more true to it than most humans, hiding behind a thin veneer of morality and societal law.
"CCCRRRASH-SSSS HHHHH" The sound of a tsunamis being created under the sheer wind pressure of the monster's wings as he flew close to the surface of the water. A creature that could bend Mother Nature to its will? What hope would puny humans have against such power? When they still found themselves subservient to the whim of the earth.
Heh, how could they have ever thought to domineer over Gaia? The Earth was everything. It was through its benevolence that they could live peaceably and flourish. But she continued to be wrecked and destroyed through selfishness.
It all came back to that.
But it's alright to be selfish. It's fine to want to be happy. To wish for the simple lives of others; to wish that his problems were all someone else's. That he wasn't sitting in the hand of a giant humanoid dragon creature that resided over an entire species that claimed to be his father; who was taking him to see his real mother and brother that he never knew he had and away from his prophetic battle against a wizard that wanted to pull a Hitler and destroy all of the Muggles and the half-bloods in the world.
He could afford to take a little time to enjoy the scenery, as he wouldn't have any later. For now, it could be someone else's problem.
~~~~~~~~~-What the heck is a line break anyway?-~~~~~~~
Five hours.
That is how long they had been flying. Or, rather, his giant dragon 'dad' had been flying.
Even after so long, he still couldn't bring himself to believe that the creature was his father. He could believe that he somehow screwed up the animagus transformation so badly he got something that wasn't even human, he could even believe that he was somehow a relative on his mother or father's side. Maybe through marriage, and (hopefully) not through blood. Heck! Maybe it was because they were spiritually similar! But he didn't want to believe that the creature-Belloc- was his dad.
But he had come this far, and he had nowhere else to go back to now. Only the school, and even not that for much longer now that Dumbledore was forced to flee. A lot of the kids there didn't believe him anyway. Like Seamus. If they chose to live the rest of their short lives with their heads shoved up their asses, so be it.
But he didn't want to be there to see it. He would rather be anywhere but there. So… there you go. That's why he was here. He was buying his own life some time, and… and he couldn't pass up the opportunity to have a family that he had never in his life gotten the chance to have.
He just hoped it was worth giving up what he hated, but was familiar, for the unknown.
But if he thought realistically, it's not like he had much more to lose at this point, did he.
One Hour After That
Ground came into view on the horizon, sun blaring through the muted cloudy sky. The air was salty, and dolphins that he had managed to see frolicking before they had come closer, fled faster than any normal creature from a pack of sharks.
They crossed land, but before reaching anywhere, a blare of sirens echoed across the rocky shore that they crossed. The loud screech startled Harry from his perch on the palm of the large creature, where he had managed to fall into a light doze in order to get some rest.
It was hard to believe that all that had occurred- the animagus transformation, the Death Eater fight, the revelations about Belloc and his parents,- it all happened in a time period of under twenty four hours.
He was exhausted, and that was more of an understatement. Physically, he felt fine. It was like his body had inexhaustible energy, contrary to his limited stamina before. The fatigue was more mental. He had to take in so much in so short a time. All of it contrary to what he had always believed. He had…even killed someone.
He didn't regret killing her. Her specifically, she was a waste of air and space. But it was the loss of human life that he mourned. There was potential to be something different, something good, just like there was in anyone. She just chose to not live to her potential and that lead to her demise.
He just wished that the blood wasn't staining his hands, and marring his conscience. He felt like that character from Muggle School, from that play…Shakespeare? He felt like he should be washing his hands, trying to get rid of the signs of his guilt long after they had faded out of existence.
He was always hurt by others, but this time it didn't just disfigure him physically (though any would be hard-pressed to triumph over the damage he managed to do to his own body) it also blackened his soul.
A helicopter came flying by, the chopper's blades strangely silent in the thunderous air. His father kept moving, but as they soared forward, he could see men using radios to contact each other. Within a half hour, jets that were more technologically advance than he had ever seen soared overhead.
They disappeared ahead of them, along to the sound of thunder, but when he glanced above and forward at the clouds slightly ahead of them, not a single thundercloud cluttered the sky.
Trees flew by, cities that stood thousands of meters tall, and swayed slightly from the wind pressure. As the crossed by, all of the people streamed into buildings and large metal sheets flew down the buildings, windows turned into mirrors of shiny metal that glowed in the glow of the rising sun.
Even the scales under his knees turned to a lighter hue, much less dark and bloody than those of the night before, but Belloc still looked as fearsome as ever. The light did nothing to dull the ferocity of his gleaming white fangs, and the spurts of flame that came from his nostrils with every breath.
They showed no signs of slowing down, and he wondered when they were going to stop. Everywhere they went, people showed no signs of being shocked, no signs of surprise, just the fear that came with something larger than you, a potential predator, being in the immediate area. As if it was something that occurred often and could be planned for, like a natural disaster.
Was something like this common in America? Were flying dragon monsters the norm?- If so, why wasn't it more heard of in Britain, you would think that something like this, if it was known to the muggles here, would also be a big deal to those in the UK.
He supposed that it might be because either the wizards were controlling the knowledge, or the muggles were, or that even because the muggles are interested in it, it would be against the interest o f wizards to be interested as well, because to many wizards, muggle politics and modern day news were something to be ignored. It could never potentially affect them, and was inferior to the might of wizardry.
If that was true, this arrogance could lead to serious problems in the future. But it wasn't his problem right now, he was focusing on his own life and his own problems for a change.
He turned his gaze back to the horizon, it seemed that they would be traveling for quite a while longer.
-Arizona-
He never knew that the US was so large, it felt like they had crossed several different biomes over the course of the last few hours.
This one however took his breath away. Red sand milled through the air, and dunes sifted and repositioned themselves. Rocky crags painted the background, lifting their sparsely grassed peaks to the bright blue sky. Not a cloud was in sight, and there was no grass. No water, it was hot and dry, and the air wavered in the heat; distorted.
A helicopter pulled up beside his father (it was just easier to call him that, rather than his "father-not-father" or that "big fire breathing dragon guy" especially since he was still so confused on the topic) and a guy with weird white hair pulled up along side the head.
He had a blow horn. And seemed to know how to and enjoy using it to its fullest extent.
"BIG FIREBREATHING LIZARD! YOU ARE VIOLATING AIR SPACE AND TREATY AGREEMENTS! LAND NOW SO WE CAN HAUL YOUR STINKING ASS BACK TO PRISON! IF YOU DON'T, I'LL BE FORCED TO KICK YOUR ASS BACK TO KINGDOM COME. "He paused, and a thoughtful look crossed his stern face, "YOU KNOW WHAT? KEEP DOING WHAT YOU ARE DOING, I WANT TO KICK YOUR ASS!"
Belloc just ignored him and dove out of the sky right for the desert floor. Harry was totally unprepared for him to breathe a stream of fire at it, and entirely didn't expect it to open up and the darkness swallow him whole.
All he heard behind him was, "YOU COME BACK HERE! WHAT AM I GOING TO TELL MARGARET, HUH?!"
The darkness was all encompassing.