Disclaimer: no profits or material gains are made from my writing of this story. No copyright infringement intended. I don't appreciate JK's personal views or stance but I appreciate the characters she gave us in these stories. All credit due.

I hope you enjoy the last part of this whirlwind of a chapter.

XXX

[…]paired with the physical threat to my safety was enough to release the pressure in an astounding and shocking way–a physical stream of fire burst through my mouth directly into Elliott's face, blasting him away from me.

I'm honestly not sure who was more shocked. Elliott, whose face was literally melting off from the continuous stream of fire still coming from my mouth like a dragon or Me, who was not burned or harmed by the fire at all. Also, like a dragon.

The fire was enough to break the spell and I knew I was able to free myself from the situation. I tried to run away but found myself falling forward on unfamiliar legs. Looking down I saw purple, green, and silver scales, looking from side to side I saw wings twinged with red and gold. Looking to my feet I saw black dragonhide with oil slick talons.

I didn't know how it was possible, but I know it was true. In fact, I knew a few things were true.

1. Somehow, I had transfigured into a dragon.

2. Somehow, I had managed to liquify Elliott Napier with all my fire breathing dragon power.

3. Somehow, I had to get out of the Library and Hogwarts unharmed.

4. Somehow, I had to figure out how to transfigure back into a human.

5. And I needed to do all of these things within the span of the next thirty seconds.

I didn't think of logistics, didn't think of a plan or anything remotely useful except: flee!

I allowed my Gryffindor bravado to propel me into a blind flight, batting my wings with ignorance and force enough to propel me through the library. I felt a rush as the air passed by me, my sight heightened yet confusingly foreign. I didn't stop to adjust, not caring if anyone was caught in my wake as I set course to the giant windows of the library main floor. I sent a prayer to Merlin that the glass wouldn't cut through my hide and that I was small enough to fit through. I sent a final plea to the sisters and dove.

XXX

Flying as a dragon for the first time was not as freeing and fun as I imagined it should have been.

Maybe there was a reason people studied their animal form for as long as possible before transforming. Maybe it was the fact that there was a shard of glass lodged in my back. I couldn't see it, but I certainly could feel it lodged between the spikes on my spine. Maybe it was the combination of blood loss and panic of not being able to transform back to heal myself.

Maybe it was the fact that the only reason I transformed in the first place was because of what Elliott did. What George didn't do.

Either way the panic in my foreign body resulted in fiery roars that toasted the dead treetops. I was at least a hundred meters up but I didn't dare fly any higher in case I transformed back just as suddenly. Especially not when I saw the trail of blood I was leaving. I began frantically looking for a safe space to land.

I found it near a small lake in the forest. I don't even know how far away from the school I was anymore. Far enough I didn't feel the pull of the castle's protective wards anymore. I couldn't see anything but trees.

I wasn't naive enough to believe that only trees saw me.

I knew that Madam Pince and at least a dozen students had seen my grand departure. I don't think I injured anyone but Elliott but I couldn't be sure of that. I also couldn't be sure how much longer before the dragon hunt started.

And I didn't know whether Elliott was alive or not. Beyond what his death would mean for me, I found I did not care. I really couldn't be sure what that said about me but I couldn't dwell on it.

I had to find a way to transform fast but it was proving even harder than I thought. And after reading quite a few accounts at botched ones, I already had a healthy respect for the process. Now I was starting to panic again.

Even worse now that I knew for fact there were at least two sets of eyes on me. I felt two energies watching in the surrounding woods but my dragon senses unfortunately did not give me the power to decipher whether those beings meant me harm. Just that they were both magical and neither completely human nor animal.

I felt their movements now that I was alert to their presence. I felt how they moved the wind, and heard their paws tread lightly over top of the fresh snow. I knew they were behind me now, but I continued to scan the rest of the area.

In half a show of power and half a display of ineptitude in controlling my current form, I resettled my wings. I was trying to tuck them into my body so I was more aerodynamic as I whipped around to face my stalkers. Try was the operative word.

Instead I overshot and ended up toppling over, pushing the glass even deeper into my back. With an impressive roar and matching firework display, I managed to flip back over to my stomach. The pain was chaos. Leaving me screeching and thrashing, clawing and scratching at the earth. I don't know how long it went on for, the pain blinded me to time. But after what felt like quite some time passed, the pain ebbed just the slightest bit I was able to remember I wasn't safe. I had supernatural spectators.

Throat dry, choking on tears and flames and smoke, the sound I made no longer resembled a roar. At best it was a loud squawk from a wounded bird. And at the thought the transformation happened. I became a wounded bird instead of a ferocious dragon.

Specifically a crow, with a piece of glass twice the side of its body stuck between its wings.

Since I made contact with the ground the pool of blood became triple the size of my body. No less foreign or more comforting than the body of a dragon, I twitched and shuttered at the sensation of another forced transformation. The pain of it all made me lose focus of the potential enemies lurking at the edge of the tree line. I could hear them approaching now, my bird instincts on high alert of the threat of predators. I thought of how Professor Moody would chastise me for not maintaining constant vigilance. The shock of bleeding out as a bloody bird would not be an excusable reason for him.

I could see them approaching now and I laughed. Or I would have laughed, if I were human. Instead I let out a rather pathetic, solitary squawk as the pain of the action wasn't worth the endorphin rush. I knew I was lucky.

Although I do reason that most would not see the sight of The Grim and consider themselves lucky. Especially not if they could feel their energy fading as quickly as I was. It was sharper than the pull of the magic handcuffs Elliott used to assault me, it was stronger, too.

But I knew that was no Grim. That was my savior in shaggy, black fur armor. Padfoot, reunited with his pal, Crookshanks —Hermione's part-kneazle pet cat.

Sensing my recognition, my relaxation, they approached swiftly. Both animals sniffed at the wound to assess the damage. Padfoot let out a high pitch whine before transforming back into Sirius Black.

A very naked Sirius Black. I thought as he kneeled down over me to inspect the glass. The sight of his knees slipping in the puddle of blood I created was enough to save me from my embarrassing crush.

At least if I do die, it'll be a nice sight to send me off. One mystery answered, too bad it couldn't be two for two as far as the question was concerned. But not enough to save me from my own badly timed humor.

I began to chastise myself for making jokes no one would enjoy on my deathbed, but I knew I was doing it as a way to distract myself from the absence of the sisters. I also knew George would have been proud of me- if he even still cared if I lived or died. Which he didn't.

Sirius would probably have appreciated the joke, if he heard it. He certainly seemed to care if I lived or died as he was taking extreme caution to assess the damage. He was cursing up a storm and when he pulled his hands to his face to push his overgrown hair out of his face, he left a trail of blood.

"Fuck. Fuck, no. No, not now..." He swore again, looking down at his shaking, bloody hands in disbelief. "That's too much blood. I need to, I need to get someone who can fix this. I need to get Dumbledore. Yeah, Dumbledore will fix this…"

At the mention of the headmaster's name I got a nasty shock. A rippling of pain so intense, a sonic flash of pure, burning white heat and the weight of knowledge ripping through my skull. It took the form of a vision. A vision of Dumbledore raising his wand to commit the most ancient, the most dark of magic—a permanent magic stripping curse. For me, a death sentence.

It all happened in an instant of pain. The flash, the vision, the glass being ripped from my spine, and the forced transformation back into my human state. There was no time to recover.

With wild determination I turned to Sirius, who was still holding me. He was so shocked he probably didn't even realize we were both naked now and I was laid in his lap. His eyes were wide, pure black contrasting with his pale skin and the smear of my blood at his hairline.

"Not Dumbledore! Snape. Severus Snape. Get Sev—Sev—" I tried to finish his name, out of respect, but once his name was out, once I said what I needed to say, I had no more breath. No more magic, might, or adrenaline to stay conscious.

With one last silent prayer to the sisters, I collapsed into Sirius's grasp. Whatever happened now, was up to him, and I felt strangely okay with that. Live or die, bad taste or not—if a naked Sirius Black was the last sight I ever saw, well I doubt anyone would question the ghost of a smile on my face.

XXX

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

'Ello lovelies! I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I know it was a lot to read. It was a lot to write. But I'm glad I got it out for you. The next chapter is already halfway written and I will warn you it gets a little dark for a while (obviously). But the focus will be healing.

I cannot say I am a trained mental health professional or anything like that. However, as a survivor myself, I do not want anything I write to have a negative or detrimental impact on my readers. I write difficult things to help myself heal, but I do understand the topics I write about can be upsetting to some so I do try to properly warn. I also know the warnings don't always help and you never know when something will affect you. All that being said, my comments and DMs are open. I am always open, willing, and available to listen.

For all those that stuck through this note, I love you. To all those that have stuck with this story throughout the years—I salute you, I celebrate you, and I adore you.

New readers, welcome aboard.

I love you all. Next chapter sooner than you think ;)

Ex's & Oh's

Audrey V. Sullivan