Common Interests by Snapegirl

Harry shifted slightly, relieving the pressure on his smarting bottom as he sat on his bed, picking at the scrambled eggs, bacon, crumpets with butter and jelly, and pumpkin juice the house elf Bartleby had brought him. He was too upset to eat, even though his stomach was gurgling. He did drink the Nutrient Potion that accompanied the meal, knowing he couldn't skip that. His guardian would know and probably make him drink extra. He forced himself to eat half a crumpet, a few spoonfuls of egg, and one strip of bacon. That was all he could tolerate right then.

He pushed the tray away and lay down on his stomach with a heavy sigh. Shame and guilt poked and prodded his conscience, and he wondered how his friends were faring. He could only imagine the reaction of the rest of Gryffindor when they learned that the House had lost two hundred points last night. He also wondered if McGonagall had informed the Weasleys or Neville's Gran Augusta or the Grangers about what had gone on. Or if Severus had informed Narcissa. He didn't want his friends to get in any more trouble. Despite what Draco had said about them all knowingly disobeying the rules of the school and the Ministry, Harry couldn't help feeling guilty. He was the one who had told Hermione about finding the egg and dragooned her into doing research. He should have just left the egg where it was, or not allowed Ron, Draco, or Neville to become involved with raising the dragon. How would you have stopped them? asked a small voice in the back of his head. It should have been him who brought Viv to the Astronomy Tower. Then only he would have been in trouble. The way it usually was.

He brooded some more on his foolishness, recalling how angry Skull had been. You scared both him—and me—to death! Not only that, Harry thought regretfully, but he had also risked the familiar's life and Severus' too. The enraged mother Pendragon could have easily flamed Skull to death, or attacked Severus and torn him to shreds. Just recalling those gigantic claws and wicked teeth made Harry shiver. Imagining them tearing into his guardian or the raven caused him to tear up.

Severus was right. He hadn't thought about the consequences of his actions, at least not beyond getting caught. But now he realized just how insane they all had been, trying to fight a dragon that way. Or raising one. He recalled the fact that for some reason the dragon tamers hadn't met them atop the tower, and he prayed it didn't have anything to do with the mother Pendragon. Of course, Harry couldn't have known that the female Pendragon would come searching for her baby. Harry prayed the dragon tamers remained unhurt and had just been late for the rendezvous.

He absently rubbed his backside, the sting was leaving it, though he felt a hot flush of embarrassment when he recalled the spanking and how he had bawled like a baby during it. Did Draco cry when his mother or Snape had spanked him? Did he feel the same hot rush of embarrassment at getting punished like a little kid? Even though he had deserved it, Harry hoped Severus never punished him that way again.

And he still had McGonagall's session with the dunce cap to endure, plus whatever detention she handed out. Not to mention the censure of the rest of his House.

But the absolute worst part of this whole fiasco was that he had broken Severus' trust. The look of disappointment and even . . . hurt in the professor's eyes caused Harry's heart to ache even worse than his backside had moments before. He bit his lip, trying to think about ways in which he could gain Severus' trust back. He knew the professor valued honesty and obedience in children, so he resolved to try and do as he was told from now on, and not lie to his guardian. He figured that maybe he could volunteer to help Severus clean his classroom after lessons, or gather ingredients, shine the man's boots, scrub the apartment, anything to show his repentance and remorse.

He wouldn't even complain about Skullduggery following him around the school like a shadow, even though he detested being watched like a criminal. Or the fact that he could no longer fly in the afternoons after class with Ron and Draco or even pick a book from the library without having Snape escort him like a bleeding toddler. Then maybe . . . just maybe . . . Severus would see that he could take his punishment like a man and trust him again.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

The students were all too sleepy to notice the difference in the hourglasses on their way to breakfast, which allowed Draco, Hermione, Ron, and Neville some peace to eat breakfast. Rumors were flying about what had caused the "earthquake" in Gryffindor and Ravenclaw Towers last night. The Ravenclaws were speculating it had been a meteor fallen to earth, that had struck the Astronomy Tower, the Gryffindors thought one of Hagrid's pets had run amok, one fifth year mentioned Hagrid had raised a giant three-headed dog last year.

The three amateur dragon keepers said nothing, just kept their heads down. Though all of them noticed that Harry was absent from breakfast. The rest of the House assumed Potter was sleeping in; only Ron, Hermione, and Neville knew about Snape's detention and wondered if Harry had survived the wrath of his guardian. Only Draco knew that Snape had probably paddled the Boy Who Lived's bottom as well as his own. When Hermione darted a glance across the aisle at the Slytherin table, she noticed Draco quietly eating while his Housemates also speculated about the ruckus, only they thought it had been caused by a dumb Gryffindor brewing in their bedroom, or a Ravenclaw experimenting with an exploding charm.

"For sure, somebody's head's going to roll for this one," Flint snickered, taking a bite of his potatoes and eggs.

Draco swallowed hard and thought gloomily, Somebody's head—and ass—already has. Mine. He took another bite of toast. Potter's too, if Snape's temper was anything to go by this morning. The single good thing that had happened that morning was his Head's assurance that he would handle Draco's punishment himself, with no interference from Narcissa or Lucius. At least that was something.

The morning post was delivered amid many yawns and rubbing of eyes, then finally breakfast was over. The students filed out into the Entrance Hall, eager to have a day free of classes, and reflexively checked their hourglasses.

There came a wave of horrified gasps from the Gryffindors as they gazed at the level of colored crystals in their hourglass. There had to be some kind of mistake, because they had lost two hundred points in one night!

Fred rubbed his eyes and nudged George. "Are you seeing what I'm seeing, twin?"

"I think mine eyes deceive me, brother. Because . . . unless I need glasses like Harry . . .we've lost any chance at the House Cup." George cried.

"That can't be possible!" Wood protested.

"There has to be a mistake," whimpered Lavender Brown.

"Maybe we were supposed to get two hundred points and Dumbledore mistakenly took them away instead?" suggested Parvati hopefully.

"Yeah, right," sneered a Slytherin girl. "Then how come we lost fifty? Something stinks here."

"Like a rotten egg," Flint confirmed.

"When in doubt, check the detention logs," Percy suggested superciliously to his fellow prefect.

"I was just gonna do that, Weasley," Flint snorted. He moved over to where the rolls of parchment were stuck to the wall, listing the student's detentions for the week—by name, date, time, offense, and professor. "Ah, flaming hell!" he swore stridently. Then he spun and leveled a nasty glare at Draco, who had been doing his best to sneak off, but couldn't get through the crowd. "Malfoy, you were caught out of bed last night by McGonagall and Snape? What in ruddy hell were you thinking? It was good idea to have a picnic at midnight?"

Draco blushed and lowered his head, not answering his angry prefect.

"You cost us fifty points, Malfoy!" Flint scolded. "That's unacceptable."

Several other students in Slytherin began muttering furiously and giving Malfoy the stink eye.

"Maybe you and I need to have another chat, boy," hissed Flint in Malfoy's ear.

Draco flinched, then said quietly, "I'm sorry, Prefect. I . . . I have to go and scrub the boy's bathroom, it's part of my detention for Professor Snape."

"Get on with it then! But once you're done, we're going to discuss your being out of bounds," growled the highly irritated prefect.

Draco slunk away, thus missing Percy's sharp outraged shout. "I can't believe this! Granger, Longbottom, and Potter were there too! And you also, Ron! Bloody blue blazes! What in heck were you doing up there?"

"They were trying to see Uranus!" chortled Fred. "Get it, Perce?"

Percy rolled his eyes at the old joke, while several Gryffindors snickered, including George. "Get a life, George!"

"It's Fred, O Righteous Prefect," mocked his brother. "Don't be too hard on Ronnie, every one of us—"

"—except you, O Perfect One—" George sketched a mock bow. "—have got in trouble at school."

"Not even you two have ever lost fifty points at one time, much less two hundred!" protested Percy. "And received detention from two Heads." He put his hands on his hips and fastened a basilisk glare at his youngest brother. "Ronald, just what in Merlin's name did you do? Start talking, or else!"

Ron gave Percy a mulish look. "Quit acting like Mum, Percy! I don't have to tell you anything."

"No? You either tell me or I'll tell Mum and Dad."

Ron gasped. "You wouldn't!"

"Of course he would! He's Percy the Prat!" chorused the twins.

"Besides, I'd wager for something this major, McGonagall's already written home to Mum and Dad." Percy said smugly. "She did to Fred and George in second year."

Ron groaned and Fred and George shook their heads.

"Better come clean, little brother," coaxed George.

"You know we'll find out soon enough," persuaded Fred. "And when we do . . ."

"We'll prank you good." George chuckled wickedly.

"You're already going to, for us losing all those points," snorted Ron.

"True," Fred nodded. "But telling us how naughty you were . . ."

"Will make us a bit more merciful," George finished.

"We fought a Pendragon," Hermione spoke up, unwilling to keep silent.

More gasps followed that statement.

"Holy hells! What was a Pendragon doing here?" demanded Oliver Wood.

"She came to get back her baby," Hermione answered.

"What baby?" asked Seamus.

"The one we were helping Hagrid raise," Neville offered. "She tracked it to the school, and then tried to fry us."

"Come on, you can tell us the rest in the common room," Percy said abruptly. He began to haul Ron towards the stairs, and the rest of the Gryffindors followed.

"No fair!" cried a Hufflepuff. "We wanted to hear too!"

"Tough luck. You can wait your turn," Percy told her, then proceeded up the stairs.

Once behind the portrait hole, Percy made the three miscreants tell them everything. He was quite furious at how they had all cost Gryffindor the House Cup, and so were most of the rest of them, though a few were reluctant admirers of the four's daring in trying to fight off the mother Pendragon. Still, even foolhardy courage couldn't offset the disappointment in knowing they were now in last place for the cup.

"Where's Potter?" asked Dean.

"Down in Snape's office, probably getting his arse reamed out," replied Ron, though he suspected that wasn't all Snape was doing to poor Harry.

Everyone present winced slightly. A little of Snape's famous temper went a long way.

Even so, they were all impressed at the fact that the dungeon bat and his familiar had risked their necks to save the four delinquents, and the twins were quite indignant that they should have risked the life of their beloved brother prankster-in-feathers.

They both looked at their brother and his friends and shook their heads regretfully. "Now you're really in for it, little brother!"

Ron's eyes nearly bugged out. "But . . . but . . . it wasn't my fault! I never told Snape or Skull to get involved."

"He's right," squeaked Neville timidly. "Professor Snape came to save Harry . . . mostly."

"Professor Snape came to save all of you, not just his ward," Minerva declared smoothly from the door of her apartment. "He and Skullduggery would not have needed to if you four had been in bed like all the rest of my Lions." She walked forward, a white pointed felt cap under her arm. Several of the older students winced openly when they saw it, having either worn it or seen it in action.

"I have never been so ashamed of Gryffindors in all of my years of teaching. Well . . . except perhaps once." Minerva amended, recalling another night where something terrible had nearly taken place. "But I shall let my dunce cap speak for me."

She gestured and a three-legged stool floated into the center of the common room. The professor stalked up to it and called, "Ronald Weasley, step forward."

Gulping, Ron walked over and sat down on the stool.

McGonagall placed the dunce cap on his head. Like the Sorting Hat it was magical, but unlike the Hat, it was not kind to a student, and began to chastise Ron in Minerva's own voice. "Mr. Weasley, you have tarnished the honorable Name of Gryffindor by your foolish and dangerous actions . . .Not even your brothers ever behaved in so dismal a fashion . . ."

Beneath the cap, Ron went beet red from the tips of his ears to his chin and the watching Gryffindors cackled at the hat's pointed comments.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

Back in Snape's quarters, Harry left his room to use the bathroom. On his way back, he caught sight of one of Severus' many black robes, tossed hastily over the back of the sofa. Harry considered why that might be, as usually Snape hung up his robes carefully on the hooks alongside the door. Then he thought perhaps the professor had been in too much of a hurry last night to be bothered hanging up his robes after going to rescue Harry and his friends. Or too frazzled.

His hand crept up and gently stroked the dark fabric, marveling at how sleek it was, almost like a snake's skin. Severus had told him it was like that in part due to the runes of protection sewn into the fabric on the inside. The robe also smelled slightly spicy, sort of like cloves or cinnamon, faintly like vanilla, and lavender, because Snape had been brewing Dreamless Sleep and Calming Drafts when he had last worn this particular robe. Harry found himself lifting it up and burying his face in the soft folds.

To him, it smelled comfortably of home. He took the robe back to his room, curled up on his bed once more, cuddling the black fabric to him like a favorite plushie. It almost, though not quite, reminded him of being held in Snape's arms. He breathed in deeply the myriad scents the robe contained and imagined that Severus were there, looking down upon him without censor or shame. It made him feel slightly better, and he remained that way until his eyes closed and he fell asleep with the black robe wrapped about him in a loving embrace, dreaming of a time when his guardian trusted him and thought he was a good child despite his tendency to be cheeky and forget the rules. Two tears of remorse slipped down his cheeks to soak into the Potion Master's robe.

Page~*~*~*~Break

Draco had just finished scrubbing the last toilet down in the dungeon level boy's bathroom, he straightened up slowly, putting a hand to the small of his back. He stifled a groan. Merlin, but how did Muggles do this all the time? It bloody sucked! He examined his hands, expecting to see blisters on his palms. There were none, but his hands were reddened and sore from gripping the handle of the toilet bowl brush for an hour. He carefully washed and dried them and thought about taking a hot shower. He felt grungy and disgusting, some of those toilets had been beyond gross . . .didn't their fathers teach their sons how to pee anymore, or at least aim in the right direction? Honestly. Pigs, the lot of them.

He returned the cleaning solution and the brush to Filch's closet, scowling when he recalled the caretaker's gleeful smirk when he came and asked to borrow the supplies. "Got in trouble, have you? Maybe now you'll learn t'stay in bed where you belong."

Draco had to admit he wouldn't be making that mistake again anytime soon. He would have preferred another three whacks with the paddle rather than scrubbing eighteen toilets. Though he had to admit, Snape had tailored the punishments to fit his students. Draco, raised in a household where manual labor was a thing for house elves, considered it the height of humiliation to scrub toilets, especially without magic. Hermione, with her adoration of the written word, was probably bemoaning the fact that she was banned from the library for the weekend. For Neville, gathering potion ingredients, especially ones that stank was a chore, and Weasley had to clean the potions classroom, a place that he disliked as well as mulching the garden with dragon dung. Draco wasn't certain what Potter had been made to do, only that the dark-haired boy's punishment probably was worse than the rest of theirs put together, considering he was Snape's ward.

Next time don't go hiding a baby Pendragon, and you won't need to go through this, Draco reminded himself as he headed to Snape's office. Though a part of him couldn't regret having met Viviane and watched her grow, for the dragonet had been smart and funny when she wasn't destroying Hagrid's hut and his boots. He had experienced something rare and precious with the small dragon and he knew he would miss her and never forget her.

He was so intent on reminiscing about Viv that he failed to notice the footsteps behind him until a hard hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him about.

"Malfoy, you and I need to have a little talk," Flint growled.

"W-what?" Draco stammered, looking up into the big prefect's icy blue eyes.

"This is the third—or is it fourth—maybe fifth time you've cost us points and acted like an impulsive Gryffindork. Hell, you're even hanging around them now. I can understand Potter, he's half a snake now what with the professor being his guardian, but that wuss Longbottom, and Weasley the blood traitor and Granger the know-it-all? Where's all that aristocratic pride you Malfoys are always spouting off about?"

"Let go of me!" Draco cried, struggling. "I don't owe you or anybody an explanation for who I'm friends with. Now mind your own business!"

"Don't you get it?" Flint shook the other boy sharply. "You are my business, brat! You and every other Slytherin firstie here. What you do reflects on our House, and me as your prefect, and your stupidity may have just cost us the cup. I told you last time that you had better wise up and quit thumbing your nose at the rules and you just don't listen! First dueling with bloody Potter, then stealing his watch, now this! Maybe if you get to stand on the Platform of Shame for the week and get rubbish and stinging hexes thrown at you, you'll learn what it means to toe the mark, eh?"

Draco paled, for he knew the other boy was not kidding. Slytherins policed their own, if they felt a member required it, and the look in Flint's eyes promised a world of humiliation.

"That will not be necessary, Marcus." Severus cut in smoothly, having heard Flint's angry voice outside his office door and come to investigate. "Malfoy has already been sufficiently punished for his misbehavior by me and Professor McGonagall. You have no need to add to it, understood?"

The professor's voice was soft, but there was an undercurrent of steel within it that made Flint swallow and nod his assent rapidly. "Yes, sir, Professor Snape." He released Draco. He shot the blond a fierce look, but said nothing further. He trusted his Head of House, and if Snape said Malfoy had been punished enough then it was so, for all Slytherins knew there was no taskmaster to equal Severus Snape in the entire school.

"Malfoy, come with me." Severus said, ushering Draco into his office. "Marcus, don't you have Quidditch practice?" asked the Potions Master pointedly.

Flint nodded. "I was just on my way there, sir." He hurried up the corridor.

Draco gave his professor a grateful glance as he entered the office. "Thank you, sir."

Severus arched an eyebrow. "No thanks are necessary, Draco. There's no sense in beating a dead horse, as the Muggles say. I trust you have learned your lesson?"

"Yes, sir." Draco assured him, feeling beads of sweat pop out on his forehead in relief.

"Good. Keep out of trouble. You will meet me here the same time tomorrow morning for detention. Dismissed, Malfoy."

As Draco left, Severus massaged his temples. It was nearly ten o'clock and soon Hermione would be coming down to his classroom for her detention. Afterwards he would go and check on Harry and then take his ward up to the Astronomy Tower to placate Sinistra, who was going to raise holy hell when she saw the state her tower had gotten into. All in all, it had been a very trying morning, and the day wasn't half over yet.

Page~*~*~*~*~*~Break

At precisely ten o'clock, Severus heard a tapping at his office door. "Come in, Miss Granger."

Hermione entered, looking apprehensive and ashamed. "Sir, I'm here for my detention."

Severus merely nodded and rose, beckoning her to follow him through the connecting door to his classroom. As they entered the lights flickered on and Severus pointed to a desk where a quill, parchment, and ink rested. "Sit there, young lady. You have an hour and a half to write me an essay about what you should have done differently in regards to the dragonet and how your foolishness might have had serious fatal consequences for you and your friends. Begin."

The girl lowered her head and began to write. Though the professor did not speak to her again, she could feel his obsidian eyes upon her, watching her intently, dark with disapproval. She had never gotten detention before at school, back at home her teachers hardly ever had to reprimand her for anything, unless it was to stop asking questions nonstop. But this time . . . this time she had really broken the rules and the fact that she had done so blatantly frightened her. She knew better. She recalled her mother telling a friend once that she never had to worry about Hermione being cheeky to a teacher or getting sent to the Head's office, she was respectful of teachers and loved doing well in school, that she was a daughter to be proud of.

You wouldn't be proud of me now, Mum. You'd be so ashamed, you'd probably want to drag me back home and ship me off to reform school, Hermione thought miserably.

She re-dipped her quill in the ink pot and continued to write, concentrating on describing how she had gotten involved with the baby Pendragon and how excited she had been to discover the rare species and how she had fallen in love with Viviane. I know that doesn't excuse my disobeying the rules, Professor Snape, but please understand that all I wanted was to be with her and raise her. I'm sorry that I broke all those rules, I've never done that in my life, and while I knew it was wrong to sneak out of bed, I just couldn't let my friends take the risk and not me. My parents would be appalled at what nearly happened to me and to my friends. My dad only agreed to send me to Hogwarts because my magic was growing too strong for me to control by myself. . .

She wrote over two feet of parchment, her quill scratching swiftly across the scroll. She knew that her Housemates hated her now for losing all those points, and she wished she had done more to discourage her friends from keeping the egg. She wasn't sure what she could have done to stop them, but deep inside she knew she hadn't tried because just once she had wanted to behave like a normal child and not a goody-two-shoes know-it-all. She recalled how much fun she had had with the dragonet and concluded she regretted putting her friends in danger but could never regret teaching the dragonet. It had been the opportunity of a lifetime. She wondered how Harry was faring, and hoped Snape was not being too harsh with him. Finally, she was finished. She carefully sprinkled sand upon her parchment to dry the ink and looked up at her professor, who was busy grading homework.

"Professor Snape? I'm finished."

He lifted his head, pinning her with his gaze. "Indeed, Miss Granger? Bring it here."

Hermione obeyed, approaching the stern pedagogue hesitantly. "Sir, may I ask you something?"

Severus reached out and took the parchment, scanning it rapidly. "What is it?"

"It's just . . . well, you see . . . Percy said that Professor McGonagall was probably going to write our parents and tell them what happened last night . . . and I . . . my parents are Muggles, sir, and they'd never understand about Viv and the . . . the mother dragon . . ." Hermione trailed off, looking at Severus pleadingly.

"You are afraid they will act to remove you from Hogwarts," Severus concluded.

"Yes. My dad is . . . well he's awfully overprotective of me . . . I'm his only daughter and . . ."

"And I would react much the same way if I had learned a tower nearly fell on my daughter's head and she had been playing about with a dangerous magical creature. Professor McGonagall knows that, Miss Granger. I would think she has not and will not contact your parents, as you said, they would not understand and you need to remain here at the school."

Hermione let out an enormous sigh of relief. "Truly, sir? Oh, I'm so glad because I really didn't want to have to leave. All my friends are here, the first real friends I've ever had, who like me and not just the fact that they can copy off my homework . . ." Blushing, she stared at her shoes.

"I see," said Severus dryly. Ah, the curse of being intelligent. He recalled his own schooldays, and how many of his Housemates would blackmail him into giving them homework answers or else he would find himself on the receiving end of their wands or fists. "A good friend is both a blessing and a curse sometimes. You are fortunate in your choice of friends, but next time look before you leap."

"Yes, sir. How is Harry, professor? He wasn't at breakfast this morning. Is he . . . err . . . grounded forever?"

Severus' mouth twitched at her earnest curiosity. "He is on restriction to his room until twelve noon, and then he shall accompany me to the Astronomy Tower and help fix what was broken. I'm sure he will tell you the rest of his punishment himself. Fear not, Miss Granger, I haven't chopped him up and stewed him into a potion."

Hermione bit back a giggle at Snape's dry wit. "I'm glad to hear that, sir."

"Well, what are you waiting for, permission to move?" he queried a little sharply. "Dismissed, Granger."

Hermione went, muttering softly about what she was going to do the rest of the day, since she was forbidden the library and one of her favorite things to do was read. This was definitely a dreadful day.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

After Severus had finished reading Hermione's essay and deemed it suitable, he decided to check up on Harry. He still needed to confiscate the Nimbus and perhaps they could have some lunch before tackling the Astronomy Tower and Aurora Sinistra's temper. Skullduggery flew onto his shoulder just as he was locking up the office.

"How goes your morning?" queried the professor, scratching the raven's chest.

"All quiet on the western front, Sev," Skull replied, gently rubbing his beak on Snape's shoulder.

Severus grunted. "Humph. I suppose with what occurred last night and the subsequent punishment of those troublemakers is making everyone walk softly today."

"Could be," the raven cawed. "Or . . . it could be they're thinking up new mischief and haven't put it into practice yet."

"We shall hope it is the former rather than the latter," Severus murmured. Then he walked into his quarters.

He expected to find Harry climbing the walls or pacing by now, the boy had never done well with sitting still. Instead when he peered into Harry's room, he discovered the boy sound asleep on his bed, cuddled into one of his robes!

"Well, that's one way to relieve boredom," Skullduggery remarked, his crest standing up.

Severus said nothing, simply stared down at the sleeping boy. A frown creased his saturnine features. "Skullduggery, why is he . . . sleeping with my teaching robe?"

Skull cocked his head, highly amused at his wizard's befuddlement. "Sev, I always said you made a good security blanket."

"Security blanket?"

"Or a nice warm fuzzy plushie, if you ever allowed anyone to get close enough to snuggle with you," the raven trilled insolently.

"A warm fuzzy plushie?" repeated the professor in a dangerous tone. "Skullduggery I think that stint atop the tower scrambled what little wits you have left. I am not anything like warm or fuzzy!"

"Tell Harry that." Skull chortled. The raven's beady eyes gleamed with humor as he gazed at the child.

"Skullduggery, one of these days I am going to pluck you raw and use your feathers for a dustrag!" threatened the professor.

"Aww, but Sev! Don't you find it rather . . . endearing to be held in such high esteem?"

Severus ground his teeth together. A part of him did find it rather endearing, but he would sooner be Crucioed than admit it, even to his familiar. Dammit, he wasn't supposed to be regarded as warm and fuzzy, he was supposed to be strict and unbending, so Harry would behave himself! Where had he gone wrong?

"Aren't you going to wake him up, Sev?" queried the raven saucily.

"No. You can do that. I am going to order some lunch," the Potions Master grumbled.

Skullduggery fluttered down next to Harry's head and began to preen the boy's hair, crooning softly, "Close your eyes, have no fear, the monster's gone . . . your daddy's here . . . beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy . . ."

"Skullduggery, I'm putting a cauldron on right now!" his wizard snarled, flushing. He stalked into the main room.

"What's the matter, Snape? Don't you like John Lennon?" Skull warbled, sniggering. "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans . . ."

Harry stirred, opening his eyes. "Huh?" He yawned. "Skull?"

"Hello, bran-boy. Have a nice nap?"

"Uh . . . yeah." Harry groped for his glasses, only to find them held out to him by Skull. He thanked the raven and slid them on. He sat up gingerly, but the stinging in his buttocks was gone. He exhaled sharply.

"Not still sore, are you?" asked the bird gently.

Harry felt himself blush. Even Skull knew what had gone on in the office. Did everyone? "No. I . . . I'm better now. Uncle Severus didn't . . . spank me that hard . . ."

"Good. Otherwise he'd be up all night with a guilty stomach."

"But . . . I deserved it . . ." Harry looked down at the robe and went red. Had his guardian seen him wrapped up in the black robe?

"That doesn't mean he liked doing it," Skull told the youngster wisely.

"Is he here?"

"Of course. He's in the den ordering some lunch. Good thing too, since I'm starving." The raven fluffed his feathers.

Harry quickly folded the robe and laid it at the foot of the bed. "Skull? Are you still mad at me?" he asked, his voice quivering slightly.

"Hmm? No. As the Comanche say Suvate—it is finished. What's done is done."

"The Comanche?" Harry repeated, his eyebrow rising.

"They're a Native American tribe, the Snakes Who Go Back, as they call themselves. Fierce, war-like, the best horsemen on the Great Plains."

"I've heard of them, but where did you learn to uh . . . speak Comanche?"

"From another raven, Black Amber. She came to stay at the Tower many years ago, and she taught my mother how to travel the Gray Road. She was the respected familiar of a Comanche shaman, Raven Shadow. We learned much from her, including a few words of Comanche."

"That's really interesting. What other words do you know?"

Skull spread his wings and glided into the air. "Keemah—come, Harry. Severus is waiting for you and he gets cranky when he's hungry."

Harry snickered then followed the raven into the den, his heart a little lighter now that he knew Skullduggery had forgiven him.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

Harry followed Severus up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower. Had it only been last night that he had crept up these same stairs, with Viviane and his friends? It felt like a lifetime ago, when he was younger and stupider. As they reached the top of the stairs and went through the archway, Harry recalled the roar of the mother Pendragon and the searing hot flash of fire as he flew through her forefeet, the blazing golden eyes, the brilliant crimson of her scales as she blotted out the moon. No matter how terrified he had been—and he had been scared spitless—he would never forget that sight as long as he lived.

Shading his eyes with a hand from the bright sun, Harry stepped out onto the Astronomy Tower, squinting, and surveyed the damage the Pendragon had wrought with her claws, teeth, and tail. The entire western half of the tower walls had been smashed to pieces, the stone crumbled to bits. More rubble consumed the south side of the tower as well. Scorch marks and claw marks were scored into the flagstones a few feet from where Harry stood. Bits of broken glass, wood, and metal were scattered everywhere.

"Well, Mr. Potter, I hope you're proud of yourself," Professor Sinistra said acidly, fixing the Gryffindor boy with a withering look. The Astronomy professor was tall with dark brown hair and eyes that usually glistened with laughter. Now they were as hard as meteors and her foot was tapping against the scorched stone. "Half of my tower reduced to rubble, three of my telescopes smashed, and my revolving planet model is kindling thanks to you and your delinquent friends summoning a dragon up here. Isn't there enough trouble down on the ground for you to get into, must you bring it up here too?"

Harry looked at his shoes. "I . . . I'm sorry, Professor Sinistra. My friends and I didn't summon the Pendragon here . . . she came because she was looking for her dragonet. . ."

"Never mind the excuses, Potter. They won't replace my tower." She gestured to the ruins. "Well, don't just stand there, boy. Get a broom and start sweeping up the glass and wood."

She pointed her wand and a large broom appeared, along with a shovel, and so did an industrial sized wheelbarrow.

"Aurora, why don't you and I start by banishing the broken stone?" suggested Severus evenly. We can either Transfigure more blocks and stick them together with magic or Replicate more and have Hagrid mix us up a batch of magical cement. I'm sure Dumbledore has already put in an order to replace your model and telescopes."

Sinistra sniffed, brushing stone dust off of her deep blue robe. "Yes, but when they will get here is another matter. Until then I shall have to use the telescopes from over thirty years ago and they are hopelessly inferior and the lenses are blurry . . ." She cast another angry glance at Harry. "If you were going to lead the bloody dragon on a wild Snark hunt, Potter, why could you not have let her trample the Quidditch pitch or something? At least then it might have been worth risking your fool neck and dying nobly, as Gryffindors are wont to."

Harry blushed and kept sweeping up piles of shattered stone and splinters of the destroyed model.

Sinistra turned and began chanting the Vanishing Charm, removing the large quantities of broken stone off the floor of the Tower.

"Aurora, enough!" Severus spoke up suddenly, his wand out, vanishing another pile of rubble. "My ward acted foolishly, which is why he is up here assisting me, but there is no need to snipe at him. He was not the only student involved or responsible for this disaster. He has apologized and is doing his best to rectify the situation, now leave the boy alone."

Sinistra spun on the black-clad professor. "What's this, Severus? Going soft in your middle age? I would have thought you'd have laid down the law to the brat last night."

Severus straightened.

Harry froze, with the broom in his hand. His guardian looked angry enough to chew obsidian. He couldn't believe Snape was actually protecting him from Sinistra. Harry would have thought Severus would be agreeing with the angry Astronomy professor one hundred percent.

"For your information, Sinistra, I have already laid down the law to him this morning. He has been severely lectured and punished by both myself and Minerva and he doesn't need you griping at him, however much you feel justified in doing so. Vent your temper upon the stone or go and find a dragon to blast apart, but cease snapping at my ward or else this tower won't be the only thing needing to be put back together again."

Sinistra gasped. "Severus Snape, are you threatening me?"

He met her gaze calmly. "I never threaten, Aurora. Do not make me regret coming up here to assist you."

The Astronomy professor spun about, her robes swishing angrily about her ankles. "Insufferable damn man!" she grumbled, and a white light shot out of her wand, blasting the large pieces of stone into dust. "He's like a cobra defending his young when it comes to that Potter brat. Who wouldn't be able to sit for a week if I had custody of him!"

Watching her covertly from under his lashes, Harry was sure she wished the stone was Severus' head. Or even his own. He felt a warm glow spread through him at the way his guardian had defended him. He might have lost Snape's trust, but at least he hadn't lost the wizard's protection.

Harry continued to sweep up the debris, and though his arms ached from lifting shovelful after shovelful of stone chips, wood, and twisted metal fragments into the wheelbarrow, he felt pleased with his efforts and happy to be doing something useful. He ignored the occasional glares the Astronomy professor kept giving him, they weren't half as bad as the ones he used to get from Snape, and he knew she wouldn't dare say or do anything else so long as the Potions Master was there. He couldn't blame her for being angry, but he didn't want to be her scapegoat either.

By the time an hour and a half had gone by, Sinistra and Snape had managed to clear away most of the large pile of rubble and Harry had swept almost the entire circumference of the tower. Sinistra eyed Harry's work and sniffed. "Adequate, Potter. You may return tomorrow and scrub the flagstones with pumice and Magical Mess Remover, hopefully that will get the scorch marks out."

"Yes, professor," Harry said, keeping his tone respectful. Glancing up from beneath his fringe of hair, Harry caught his guardian's nod of approval.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

At one o'clock, Ron arrived panting at Snape's classroom. He had endured the grumbling and cold shoulders of all his Housemates, and Percy threatening to write a letter home telling Molly and Arthur just how well their youngest son was doing at school, following the footsteps of the twins, or worse, as well as Fred and George calling him Mini Mayhem. It almost made him wish the dragon had knocked him silly instead of just sneezing on him. Then maybe they'd feel sorry for him and not out for his blood.

He had not enjoyed the session with McGonagall's dunce cap one bit, and was sure he'd like scrubbing the dungeon floor even less. He had always hated mopping the floor at home, and used to cheat and use one of Molly's enchanted mops when she wasn't looking. He just hoped that McGonagall hadn't written home and told his parents, otherwise he knew he was in for a Howler at the very least. At worst he knew Molly would come to the school and dole out a Weasley-style spanking with her wooden spoon. Shuddering, he knocked on the classroom door. Even scrubbing Snape's dungeon was better than Molly's wrath.

"Enter, Mr. Weasley."

Ron obeyed. Snape was behind his desk, grading as usual. The redhead wondered if Snape saved up all his homework and tests for those times when he had detention, so he had something to do besides watch the clock. Ron saw a large bucket of soapy water in front of the desk along with a monstrous scrub brush. All of the desks had been pushed to the sides of the room, so Ron could see just how much of the floor he had to scrub.

He bit back a groan.

"Begin, Weasley. You have an hour and a half. That should be sufficient provided you don't dawdle." Severus said.

"Yes, Professor Snape," Ron murmured, and dropped to his knees.

By the end of the detention, Ron was sorry he'd ever laid eyes on the Pendragon egg and wished that Charlie's friends had managed to keep their end of the bargain. He was dripping wet with sweat and soapy water and his arms, back, and knees ached. But the stone floor was scrubbed thoroughly with a precision Molly would have approved of. He rose and stretched just as Severus looked up from his third-year essays.

"I'm finished, sir." Then he put a hand to his lower back. "Ooh!"

Severus inspected the floor and said, "You have done a decent job, Mr. Weasley. I hope this reminds you to stay in bed and not go gallivanting about the castle smuggling dragonets out through the Astronomy Tower."

"Oh, it has, professor!" Ron groaned. "I feel like my great-uncle Bilius right now."

"Go and take a soak in a tub with some Muscle Relaxant crystals. Madam Pomfrey has some, ask her for them." Severus suggested. "You shall be mulching the vegetable garden the same time tomorrow."

"I know." Ron turned to go, then asked softly, "Professor, is Harry still . . . alive?"

"No, Weasley, his bones are resting beneath the Astronomy Tower," Severus answered sarcastically. "Of course he's alive. He's just not very happy about it at the moment. But you can hear all about it from his own mouth at dinner tonight."

"Oh. That's good. Err . . . I'm going now." Ron muttered, then managed to walk away as quickly as his sore body would allow.

"Of all the cheek!" Snape rolled his eyes. Then he thanked Merlin that Longbottom's detention was the last one of the day.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

Neville hoped he never received another detention from Snape ever again like this one. Harvesting the pungent stinkweed made his eyes water and his stomach churn, but at least he didn't have to endure the professor's icy gaze or sarcastic tongue. Snape stood in the field while Neville carefully snipped the bulbs from the stinkweed plant using shears and gloves. He had even given Neville a handkerchief soaked in aloe water to wipe his face and eyes with as Longbottom gathered.

Neville carefully placed the bulbs inside a glass jar and quickly screwed on the lid. While he normally enjoyed herbology, this was one plant he could do without seeing again for a long time. He had not dared ask his professor just what the stinkweed was used for, assuming whatever potion it was placed in had to be nasty. Just like this detention. His detentions with Snape had never been easy, but this one was proving a rare test of the boy's fortitude. Then again, this was major trouble he'd gone and got into, so he could hardly expect Snape, or McGonagall for that matter, to be merciful.

But at last the harvesting of the plant was complete and Neville was free to take a shower , change, and have a small nap before dinner. He had apologized to his professor for making Snape risk his life, but the older wizard had just snorted and said he was merely doing his duty and next time not to go around hatching strange dragon eggs.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

"He took away your Nimbus for the rest of the term?" repeated Ron in horror. "But that's just . . . terrible!" Then he said it again, for to a die-hard Quidditch fan, it bore repeating.

They had met up in the Entrance Hall, Harry had been escorted there by Skull, and they were just heading into the hall for dinner. Harry had found himself the recipient of several black looks and a few of the bigger and ruder members of Gryffindor had shoved him as they went by. But now Harry was surrounded by Ron, Neville, Hermione, and Draco, who had crept up to walk unobtrusively on his left side.

"I'm lucky he didn't pull me off the team altogether, Ron." Harry said.

"He wouldn't do that." Draco demurred. "Kitty-cat McGonagall would throw the hissy fit of the decade if she lost her star player and took away her chance to win the Quidditch Cup."

"Guess you're right, Malfoy," Ron said, snickering a bit at how the Slytherin had referred to his Head. "But he still has you under house arrest too."

"Yes," Harry agreed gloomily. "I'm not allowed to do anything except go to class, eat, and study with you. Oh, and he even gave me a bed time."

Neville's eyes went wide. "That's . . . that's really bad."

"He's treating you like . . . a little kid!" Ron objected.

"Which was what we all behaved like," Hermione reminded them.

They commiserated for a few more minutes about their respective detentions before separating to go and eat.

Tonight's dinner was pot roast with potatoes, carrots, pearl onions, and gravy. There were also thick slices of bread with butter and a green salad. Harry ate a fair amount of his dinner, all of that labor atop the Astronomy Tower had worked up an appetite. Once he had set down his fork, he asked Ron, "Hey, have you heard from Charlie yet about why his friends never showed last night?"

"Not yet," Ron answered, then he swallowed when he spotted a large owl winging its way towards their table. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw it wasn't Errol and the owl bore no ominous red envelope. To his surprise, the owl landed in front of him and proffered the envelope. "For me? Thanks!" he took the missive, then fed the owl a piece of meat.

"Who's it from?" asked Hermione.

"A secret admirer?" guessed Fred, smirking.

"Nah. He's too young for any girls to notice," George sniggered.

"But maybe someone's got a crush on him, twin," Fred suggested, leering.

"Shut up!" Ron snapped, his ears turning red. "It's from our brother Charlie." He opened the envelope and read the parchment inside. "He says that . . . he's coming here on Thursday, that he wants to talk to all of us about the dragon incident. He says that he talked to my parents and . . . convinced them not to come here, that he'd deal with me." Ron mopped sweat from his brow.

"Ooh, Ronnie's in trouble!" mocked Fred and George.

Ron ignored them. He'd take Charlie over Molly any day. "Ahh . . . where was I? He says that his friends were delayed in coming to pick up the dragonet because they had to avoid the mama Pendragon. Said she chased them a fair piece."

"I thought it might have been something like that," Harry said.

"Maybe it was better that they didn't come," Neville stated. "Because then they might have been caught with Viv and could have died."

"That's true, Neville." Hermione agreed. "A mother defending her young is the most dangerous of creatures."

Harry could certainly agree with that!

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

Sunday:

That morning, Harry was allowed to sleep till nine, and then Skull escorted him to breakfast. Since it was part of his punishment, Harry knew better than to complain, but even though he enjoyed Skull's company, he still felt like he was in prison, after a fashion. He slid into the seat next to Neville, with Ron on the other side and Hermione across from them.

As usual, a green Nutrient potion appeared beside Harry's plate, and he quickly filled his plate with ham and eggs, fried potatoes, and toast. But he had barely started to enjoy them when a large barn owl came soaring over, clutching a large red envelope in its beak.

Ron's eyes grew round with shock, until he saw that the owl wasn't looking for him . . . but Neville. "Merlin, Nev! Your gran's sent a Howler!"

All conversation at the table ceased as the students swung their heads around to see who the Howler was for. Several of them muttered, "Serves him right!" loudly and grinned in anticipation.

Neville groaned and hid his face in his hands as the owl landed and tossed the envelope at him.

"Better open it, Longbottom, it'll only be worse if you don't," advised Percy.

Neville tore open the envelope and it transmogrified into a large mouth that began to yell in Augusta Longbottom's voice, "NEVILLE FRANCIS LONGBOTTOM! I COULD NOT BELIEVE MY EYES WHEN I RECEIVED THE LETTER FROM MINERVA MCGONAGALL . . . THAT YOU BROKE SOME OF THE MOST IMPORTANT RULES AT HOGWARTS TO SAVE A BABY DRAGON. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, BOY? HAVE YOU NOTHING BETWEEN YOUR EARS? YOU COULD HAVE DIED ATOP THAT TOWER, AND THEN WHAT WOULD YOUR MOTHER SAY? I THOUGHT I TAUGHT YOU BETTER THAN THAT, YOUNG MAN! RULES ARE THERE TO KEEP YOU SAFE AND SHOULD BE OBEYED. YOU HAVE BROUGHT SHAME AND DISGRACE UPON THIS FAMILY. I'M SURPRISED AT YOU, BOY! YOU SHOULD HAVE BETTER SENSE. IF YOUR DAD WERE HERE, HE'D TELL YOU THAT RECKLESS COURAGE SAVES NO LIVES AND IN FACT PUTS PEOPLE IN DANGER, INCLUDING YOURSELF. JUST WAIT TILL YOU GET HOME, BOY! YOU'RE GOING TO BE WEEDING AND MIXING MULCH TILL YOUR ARMS FALL OFF, IF I HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY ABOUT IT.

Neville looked as if he wanted sink into the floor.

All about him, the other students laughed and pointed, jeering.

Hermione exchanged horrified glances with Harry. "If that's how wizarding parents punish their kids, then I'm so glad my parents are Muggles," she murmured to Harry.

Harry had never felt sorrier for Neville, and felt an acute rush of gratitude that Severus hadn't ever sent him a Howler. It seemed the ultimate in humiliation.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

10:00 AM

Potions classroom

Hermione was industriously emptying out the potions storage cabinet in the back of Snape's classroom. Many of the beakers, jars, and bags of ingredients had labels that were falling off and some of the ingredients were stale from students not closing the tops of the containers or tying the bags properly. Snape had informed her to make piles of those ingredients that were past their prime and he would replace them.

In addition to merely sorting out the ingredients, Hermione took it one step further and re-organized the cabinet, putting the ingredients in alphabetical order. All of that took nearly two hours and when Severus came to see what she was doing, his eyes nearly popped out of his head.

"Miss Granger, what do you think you are doing?"

She looked up at him, her brown eyes hopeful. "I'm . . . err . . . reorganizing the cabinet, professor. Some of the ingredients were switched about and I figured it would be a good idea to fix them and make them easier to find."

"I see. That is the first time I have seen a student take initiative and do more than the assigned detention. Ten points to Gryffindor." Severus said. "You may continue, Miss Granger. Your industriousness is appreciated."

Hermione smiled and continued her sorting. She found that it eased her conscience a little to help the professor this way, considering that he could have been much worse to her during detention.

12 PM:

Harry returned to the Astronomy Tower and scrubbed the flagstones with pumice and Magical Mess Remover until his hands stung with repeated immersion in the hot water and from clutching the pumice stone. This time Sinistra did not vent her spleen upon him, for she was far too busy trying to rebuild the crenellations about the Tower. With Severus' assistance, the two wizards managed to replace most of the stone wall, sealing it with magical cement.

They finished half the wall that morning, and Severus promised to return in the afternoon once he had finished supervising his detentions to help again.

Once again Aurora inspected Harry's work, and said, "Good job, Potter. It seems you know the meaning of work."

"Yes, ma'am."

To his surprise, Sinistra gave him a small smile. "I apologize for my temper yesterday, Potter. I was . . . overwrought and looking for someone to blame."

Harry blinked, then said, "It's okay, ma'am. What happened would have put anyone out of sorts."

"I suppose so." The Astronomy professor looked about. "Well, we've made progress and hopefully we'll be able to finish it this evening."

"I shall be here at four, Aurora," Severus promised. Then he vanished the bucket and pumice stone and helped Harry to his feet. "Come, Mr. Potter. You need a hot shower so your muscles don't stiffen and some lunch as well, I'd wager."

"Yes, sir." Harry said.

He was quiet at lunch, for despite winning an apology from Sinistra, he still felt depressed about losing Severus' trust, and wished he knew what to do to regain it. He sensed that it might be a long time before his guardian trusted him out of sight, much less to use good judgment. Somehow, Harry vowed to prove to Severus that he was capable of making good decisions. His only problem now was trying to figure out how to do that.

"You're quiet today," observed Severus.

"I'm just a little tired," Harry admitted, not meeting his eyes.

Severus noted the faint smudges beneath the boy's eyes and concluded that Harry had probably had as restless a night as himself. He had been a spy too long to miss the obvious guilt in the boy's manner and knew Harry was probably fretting to death over disappointing him. Severus disliked making the child miserable, but he had to enforce the fact that Harry had not only deliberately disobeyed him, but lied to him as well. Perhaps I'm being too harsh on him, but how else is he to learn right from wrong. If I don't take him in hand now, he'll run wild and become worse as the years go by. I refuse to raise James Potter Junior.

"Why don't you drink your tea and then take a rest?" Severus suggested.

Harry just nodded listlessly, finishing it. He didn't want sleep, he wanted things to go back to the way they were before, but since that was as unlikely to happen as snow in August, he would have to deal with it. He retreated to his room, but didn't sleep, simply remained on his bed, staring at the ceiling, one hand stroking the black robe, which he had forgotten to return to Severus.

Page~*~*~*~Break

Ron and Neville served their detentions, which were as unpleasant and smelly as the first ones, but served as a pointed reminder to never lie or risk their lives the way they had done. Draco was required to clean the Slytherin common room from top to bottom, and that hated task was accomplished amid the sneers and jeers of his Housemates, who were not inclined to forgive or forget the fact that he had cost them a whopping fifty points.

In addition to that, McGonagall summoned Harry to the Gryffindor common room for his turn with the dunce cap. The cap was quite stern and Harry winced in shame as it lectured him about obeying rules and bringing honor to his house and setting an example to his peers. "After all, you do have the Potter name to uphold, your mother would be most displeased with how you have risked your life when she fought so hard to save it . . .next time think before you act."

Harry was glad when the ten minutes were up and he could go off to bed in Gryffindor Tower. He was sure his Housemates all hated him, save for Neville, Ron, and Hermione. He had let everyone down—Severus, Skullduggery, Minerva, his House, but especially himself.

Three days later:

The five amateur dragon keepers were still receiving the cold shoulder from most of their Housemates. Hermione and Neville had served their own time beneath the dunce cap, and Draco was to have his turn tonight.

Even at Quidditch practice, Harry was treated coldly, with Oliver referring to him as the Seeker when he spoke to him at all. Harry offered to resign, which only made Wood angrier. "How is resigning going to help us win the cup?" he shouted. "Just . . . get up there and fly, blast it! Fly like you did when that bloody Pendragon was after you, Seeker."

Fred and George, never one to let an opportunity to prank slip by, decided to have a bit of fun, for they were tired of all the muttering and glowers. They slipped a few potions into Ron and Draco's morning pumpkin juice, causing Ron's hair to turn half green and half silver for the morning, and Draco's to turn gold and red.

At first the two were inclined to sulk, but once they looked in the mirror and saw how ridiculous they looked, they too started laughing at themselves.

Skull flew loops above them singing, "My, where did you get that hair?"

"I told you they were going to prank us," Ron groaned goodnaturedly.

"They wouldn't dare prank me," Hermione declared.

But she was wrong.

That night, she went to fetch her forgotten herbology text from the table in the common room where she had left it, so she could read before bed, and when she opened it, a loud farting noise accompanied by a foul stench emerged from the pages.

"Ohh, what died, Hermione!" cackled George.

"Yeah, I thought ladies didn't make offensive noises like that," howled Fred.

Hermione blushed and shook her finger at them. "Boys!"

Even Harry and Ron couldn't help chuckling at the girl's indignant expression.

Neville took a swig of his tea, and suddenly began to squawk like a chicken. A rooster's comb sprouted from his head and more laughter followed.

Harry warily bit into his cauldron cake, only to have it suddenly sprout wings, a head, and a tail and spit fiery frosting in his face like a dragon. Wiping frosting from his glasses, Harry giggled, then said, "Nice one, guys. Who thought of it?"

"We both did." The twins replied in unison. "We were sick of everybody griping and moaning."

Harry marveled at how a little laughter, even if it was at his expense, could change the mood of his House so quickly. It was a pity it wasn't to last.

Thursday:

Charlie met them down at Hagrid's hut, after first getting permission from Minerva and Severus to give the five a talk about what to do when you found an abandoned dragon egg . . . or any other kind of "abandoned" wild creature.

Hagrid set out tea and cakes, though none of his guests were very hungry. They were, however, eager to hear what Charlie had to say about their dragon raising efforts.

Charlie was tall and muscular, he was wearing a sleeveless leather vest studded with silver knots and leather pants tucked into knee high boots. He also had a short black half-cloak and a silver medallion stamped with a flying dragon, the symbol of the dragon keeper. On the obverse were his name and the name of the reserve where he worked. His hair was long and drawn back into a tail with a Celtic clasp, he was tanned deeply and a long scar wended its way up his left bicep. He carried a baton tucked into his belt, his wand, and a pouch of raw steaks. Inserted into his left boot top was a long knife. He had bright blue eyes which normally sparkled with bonhomie, but today they were serious.

He sat at the table, carefully sipping his tea, before clearing his throat. "I know all of you fancy yourselves amateur dragon tamers, including you, Hagrid. I'm sure you all thought you were doing good by taking that Pendragon egg from where you found it and hatching it and then caring for the dragonet. You probably thought you were saving her life, am I right?"

"She could have been eaten by a wyvern or something if we hadn't," Harry said.

Charlie sighed. "While that might have been true, it's unlikely. You see, a dragon egg is very difficult to crack, and a wyvern prefers to eat carrion over anything else. So the egg was probably perfectly safe where it was."

"But what about keeping it warm?" Hermione pointed out.

"A dragon's not a snake, Hermione. They're warmbloods." Charlie said. "Chances are, if you had left the egg alone, the mother dragon might have found it soon. While you all meant well, trying to raise that dragonet without the professional supervision of a keeper was a big mistake."

"How so, Charlie?" Hagrid asked. "We followed the tips in the book from the library." The big man handed Charlie the dragon breeding books and the book on how to feed and care for dragons.

Charlie glanced at the books and nodded. "While those will give you general instructions on what to do for a dragonet, they're no substitute for a true dragon keeper. And any dragon keeper worth his wand would have told you two things straight off. One, never ever touch a dragon egg that you find in the wild, even if you think it's been abandoned. Why? Because the mother might have gone away for awhile in order to lead poachers away from the egg, and when she returns she expects her egg to be there. Two, you can do more harm than good by raising a dragon in captivity."

"How can that be? We helped feed and care for Viv and taught her all kinds of things." Draco objected. "We didn't hurt her or lock her in a cage. We were even going to teach her to fly when she was old enough."

"That's all well and good, Draco, but the fact is you didn't have a permit to raise a dragon, or a place to keep her where she couldn't hurt you or herself when she grew bigger. Like I said before, your hearts were in the right place, but you have to understand that a dragon is a wild creature, meant to fly free. The Pendragon is the rarest of all species, and the most independent. There's a reason why no Pendragon has ever been raised in captivity. Because they can't stand being confined, and they sicken and die. They're a proud breed and they bend their head to no man.

"Also, by raising Viv here, among people, you could have repressed her natural instincts to fear man, making her too used to getting fed and unable to survive on her own. No dragon keeper ever keeps a dragon birthed in the wild past a certain age, because doing so will blunt their natural instincts and make them vulnerable to poachers and dragon slayers. Had Viv remained with her mum, she would have taught Viv to be wary of people, and to fly or hide when they came near."

"So . . . you're saying we were wrong in making her our friend?" Harry said.

"In a way, yes. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure you loved her and would never harm her, but you couldn't make a pet out of her. And that's what you would have had to do if you kept her for much longer. You could have never released her back into the wild, she would have been easy prey for any slayer or have starved to death because she couldn't hunt for herself.

"You could have also caused the mama Pendragon to kill her own baby, because she couldn't recognize it as hers, since she wasn't there when it hatched. A mother bonds with her baby at the time of the first hatching, and since Viv couldn't because she was with you . . . well, let's just say you were lucky that mama was smarter than average, and she knew her baby anyway. Otherwise, she might have eaten Viv instead of rescuing her."

"Eaten her?" Hermione's eyes were as big as saucers. "Her own baby? But that's . . . disgusting and . . . barbaric!"

Charlie spread his hands. "Hey, it happens sometimes. Not often but . . .they're not people, Hermione. They're animals, predators, and if they're hungry enough . . . they'll eat whatever they can find. Survival of the fittest. It's not a pretty picture, but then not everything in nature is. If you're old enough to try and raise a dragon, you're old enough to understand the truth about them, the good as well as the bad."

Hagrid nodded. "I know about that. Acromantula will eat their young'un's too, if they're too weak or small t' defend themselves against their nestmates. So will wyverns, if their young are crippled or sommat."

"But that's cruel! To kill a baby because it's smaller than the others." Hermione burst out.

"Actually, it's not. It's merciful, because most times that offspring will die a slow death by starvation. It's nature's way of winnowing the weak from the strong, girl. The strong survive and make stronger offspring, thus keeping the species alive." Charlie explained patiently. "By doing what you did, you not only endangered yourselves, but Viv as well. Because a dragon accustomed to people loses the instinct to defend itself, as well as a healthy fear of people. And if the right circumstances present itself, she could turn on people and become deadly."

"I don't think Viv would do that," Neville said. "She was really cute and she never really hurt us on purpose."

"Not now, sure, but Longbottom, you're forgetting that cute baby would have grown up someday into a creature bigger than a castle, and stomp you flat without meaning to." Charlie dug into a pocket and produced a wrinkled old copy of The Daily Prophet. "Here. I want you all to take a look at this. This is what happens when people with good intentions interfere with Mother Nature."

They all read the article spread out in the middle of the table. The paper was dated over fifteen years ago and the headline read Pendragon Wanders into House and Attacks Owners; Had to Be Put Down.

Around six PM on April 13th, 1975, a half-grown female Pendragon broke down the door of the Pritchard house and proceeded to ransack the place looking for food. The family claims they had no warning that a dragon was in the area, the creature just smashed the door in and proceeded to eat an entire roast on the table where the family—mum, dad, and two kids—had just sat down for dinner. Not being sated, it then started tearing up the place, roaring and flaming when it found nothing more to eat.

It would have turned upon the terrified family in its quest for food had not a team of Dragon Keepers and Aurors arrived and subdued the beast. The Keepers regretfully decided to put down the young Pendragon because, though it had not harmed the family, it had the potential to do great harm again when it became hungry or angry and it could not be trusted not to seek out humans and next time they might not be so lucky. Mrs. Pritchard claimed that the dragon just walked in the house, showing no fear whatsoever of humans. Profession dragon experts speculate that the dragon was raised illegally in captivity and then released into the wild, because no wild dragon would ever willingly approach a human that closely unless raised around them. This was a tragedy that could have been averted, says Keeper Lopez, if whoever had stolen this egg had given it to certified handlers to hatch, instead of trying to play dragon handler. There is a right and a wrong way to deal with a wild creature, and the sad result of this night's work illustrates the importance of keeping a wild creature wild, as nature intended. If you take a wild creature in your home, you must then assume responsibility for it forever, or else you are committing murder of an innocent creature.

"Merlin, but I never thought o' it like that!" exclaimed Hagrid. "Poor confused beastie!"

"Yes. Do you see now what I'm getting at?" the dragon keeper asked, his tone soft.

"That's so . . . horrible!" sniffled Hermione, dashing away tears.

"That could have been Viv," Draco murmured sadly.

"Why couldn't they have just . . . brought her to a reserve?" asked Ron.

"Think about it, Ron. The reserve's just a huge tract of land where the dragons can breed and hunt in the wild. We monitor them and help them if they become hurt or sick, and sometimes we take the orphan ones and raise them to ride, but not all dragons can be tamed that way. Even with those that are . . . there's always a risk that they could turn feral even with the spells. And a Pendragon's magic resistance is strong, the spells of control and calming wouldn't hold her. She was old enough to fly and yet still couldn't hunt in the wild, that's why she came into the house, because she was used to being fed. There's no guarantee she would have stayed on the reserve, and the keepers couldn't take the chance on a rogue flying off into the countryside. Next time she might have killed, and once a dragon has a taste for human blood . . .it would have been a disaster. You have any idea what a rampaging rogue dragon can do, kid? The last one killed hundreds of people and wrecked half of Cornwall before it was slain and that was over fifty years ago. That's why the Ministry outlawed dragon breeding."

"Charlie, you don't think that Viv could turn rogue, do you?" Harry cried, terror coursing through him. Had he doomed the dragonet by his hasty decision?

"Well, you only had the dragonet about a month, correct?" asked Charlie.

"Yeah, about that."

"And now she's reunited with her mother, so her mum will teach her all she needs to know about avoiding humans and how to survive in the wild. A month is about the longest we'd ever keep a dragonet before releasing her into the wild with an adult mentor. Once they've graduated to solid food and can stalk and pounce, they're ready to go back. That way they won't remember much about their early years."

"Then Viv will forget us?" cried Neville, dismayed.

"It's better if she does, though there are no guarantees," Charlie said. "The important thing is that her mum accepted her and will protect her. Although I can't figure out how in hell a Pendragon egg so near hatching got put here. Mother Pendragons are the fiercest things known to wizardkind when it comes to defending their nests."

"Maybe she was Confunded?" Harry speculated. "That's what Uncle Sev thinks."

"He could be right, but it would have to be an awfully powerful spell cast by a powerful wizard to keep her under that long, keep her from remembering her egg . . .Whoever did that is no amateur poacher, but a dangerous lawbreaker." Charlie said grimly. "I just hope we can find the bastard and put him away for good." He stood and picked up the article. "I hope you all understand what you did was very wrong and you never touch another egg again." He eyed Ron sternly. "Because if I ever catch you doing something like that again, little brother, you won't have to worry about Mum tanning your hide, because I'll do it for her. Or any of the rest of you kids. Got me?"

They all nodded solemnly, shaken by Charlie's revelations.

"All right, enough lectures. Why don't you all come on over and meet my buddy, Incendria? She's a Welsh Green, bred for generations by the Keepers of Romania to be our riding dragons, and she likes to be fed a nice juicy raw steak as a treat . . . If you're quiet and behave, I'll let you all give her a scratch and feed her."

The five youngsters eagerly lined up and followed Charlie out to the pumpkin patch, where a bored Incendria waited, blowing smoke rings over Hagrid's hut.

After letting them all pet her and feed her treats for being so patient, Charlie mounted her and gave her a tap with his baton, signaling her to fly up. They circled once and then soared into the air until they were out of sight.

It was a very subdued bunch of children that made their way back to the castle that afternoon.

That night at supper, McGonagall sent round a note to Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Draco. It stated that they would be serving their detention tomorrow night at seven o'clock and were to meet Filch in the Entrance Hall. Further details would be given out then.

"I wonder how bad it's going to be?" whispered Ron.

"It can't be any worse than Professor Snape's detentions, can it?" asked Neville worriedly.

"No. Least I don't think so," Harry asserted, though he felt a quiver run down his spine.

"I've heard stories about Filch," Hermione murmured. "That he's really mean and nasty. I'd rather take another detention with Professor Snape. Filch gives me the heebee jeebies."

The three boys all agreed, but knew they had no choice in how their detention was served. They would simply have to make the best of it.

Friday night came, and they met Filch in the Entrance Hall. To their shock, they found out he was not going to be supervising the detention, Hagrid was.

"He's gonna be takin' ye into the Forbidden Forest."

"At night?" Draco gasped. "But what for?"

"Punishment, o'course!" snorted Filch. "Who knows, ye might get eaten by a manticore. Or an acromantula, if you're lucky!"

"That's not funny, Filch," Draco scowled.

"I ain't laughing, Malfoy," sneered the caretaker. "You just mind what I told ya an' watch yer step. Otherwise your rich daddy and mummy might be celebrating yer funeral!"

He laughed mockingly, and Harry felt a cold chill race down his spine. The Forbidden Forest. For some reason the name made him shiver and recall a nightmare he'd had long ago about blood on the ground and a sinister shape looming over a unicorn. It scared him, but he refused to think about it anymore. He was not a coward and it had been a dream anyway. He would watch his step and do as Hagrid instructed and that would be that. Or so he hoped.