Unofficial Portkey Archive

Chapter 6

"So, Dad. While Mum is opening a new orifice in our friendly neighbourhood potion's master's forehead, maybe we could have a little talk."

Sirius frowned at Harry's aggressive tone, but didn't say anything. The teen was still wound up from the earlier altercation with the current head of Slytherin house, so Sirius was willing to cut him a little bit of slack. Apparently, this crap from Snivellus was a long time brewing and seemed to be coming to a head.

Filius silently left, seeing that the confrontation to come was definitely of the `family' nature of which he wanted no part. Smart man. When the door clicked shut behind the Head of Ravenclaw, Sirius turned his attention to his cousin and closest friend.

Padfoot was shocked at how wretched Prongs appeared. His shoulders sagging while his head drooped, James slowly made his way to a chair. After he beckoned Harry to sit across from him, Sirius slipped into the third side of the table while Moony occupied the fourth. Hermione pulled a chair up next to Harry as they all waited for Prongs to begin.

With a choked voice, James admitted, "I was a bullying punk who was a borderline thug for many years."

Sirius felt his back get up. Rushing to his friend's defence, he shouted, "Bollocks to that! What about…" but was cut off by James' raised hand.

"Padfoot, I love you, but shut up and let me tell my story."

Fuming, Sirius sat back in his chair. Absently he noticed Harry's nod of approval regarding his father's actions. On some level, Sirius agreed that it was rather mature of James to own up to his activities, but still…

"I met Severus Snape on the train before first year. I admit that at first I was insanely jealous of him because he had your mother's ear." With a wan grin, he told his son, "Even then I loved her."

Harry's face softened a bit, but not much.

Sirius remembered the meeting. Neither he nor James had known any spells of note, but Snivellus sure had. The greasy berk had nailed them with the Body Bind before casting the Tickling jinx. After ten minutes, it began to hurt like hell.

"When I saw Snape tell Lily that I was sure to be a `worthless Gryffindor', I saw red." Dropping his head to avoid his son's gaze, he admitted, "I began to taunt him about his second hand robes and greasy hair."

"But his hair was greasy!" Sirius objected.

"Padfoot…" James whined.

"Fine, fine, I'll shut it so that you can tell all kinds of misleading things that make you look like a monster. Fine." He crossed his arms, swearing that he'd grab Harry at the earliest possible chance so that his godson knew the truth about his Dad.

In a touching gesture, Harry leaned across the table, grasped his father's hand before he told him, "I love you Dad and could never think you a monster." His grin brightened when he added, "A bloody wanker maybe, but not a monster."

James gave a short laugh before becoming serious again.

"That kind of set the tone for our encounters for the next five or so years."

"Hold on, James," Remus interrupted. "I know you want to tell Harry about how you behaved, but it's dishonest not to include Severus' behaviour. He was no saint in the matter."

"Yeah!" Sirius cut in. Quickly explaining about the tickling hex payback by Snape, Padfoot saw Harry's expression become contemplative.

Shrugging, James continued, "Anyway, every time we met up after that it was bad. Sometimes it was just taunting about his looks or robes to later when jinxes and curses were cast. To be honest, after first year, he did begin to make it plain that he was interested in the Dark Arts."

James' eyes narrowed, "And I hate the Dark Arts. The Grindlewald War killed most of the Potters, leaving just my Mum, Dad and me. Those bastards went after us and a few other families to `make a point'. Well they made their point alright and, therefore, I hate any and all Dark Arts practitioners.

"Anyway," he sighed as he ran his left hand absently through his hair. "This rivalry turned into a little war over the years. By third year, Minerva was pulling me into her office warning me with suspension. He put me in the Hospital wing for a week with a Slicing hex during fifth year." Nodding to Sirius and Remus, "These two retaliated the next day. Damn near killed him. It was right before OWLs if I remember aright."

"Prongs, you almost bled out from that curse," Remus reminded him forcefully.

With real regret on his features, James summed up, "It took on a life of its own after a bit, this rivalry. We hated each other and to be honest, I think we forgot why. I know I did."

"Why did you save him from Moony, then?" Harry asked.

With an affronted look, he scolded his son, "I couldn't do that to Remus. Could you imagine the guilt? No, I'd never do that to my friend."

Sirius looked into his lap to avoid the stares of the others. Despite Prongs' words, he'd not take back what he did to Snape. He was sure that Snape had informed the Death Eaters about Marlene McKinnon's parents being muggles and where they could be found. They'd been slaughtered the weekend before. He and Marlene had been friends and her devastation over her parent's murders still haunted him. Her death a few years later was even worse for him.

No, he didn't regret trying to send Snivelly to his death at Moony's jaws. After explaining the situation to Remus, the lycanthrope had knocked him flat with a right cross. After that, Remus had helped him to his feet and it was over. It was like that in the Marauders. Except for Peter. He would die for his betrayal.

Noticing Harry's abashed expression, Sirius piped up, "Remus and I have had it out about the whole thing. We're good." Padfoot ignored Harry's expression of curiosity. It was none of his business.

"Why the big change, then?" Harry asked his Dad.

"My parents were killed." Harry's shocked expression was the opposite of James' dismayed one. "I realized that what I was doing was horrible. I'd never told my Dad about this back and forth of escalating violence with Severus, but I knew that he'd have been extremely disappointed in me." Looking off out the window, James whispered, "The day I buried him, I promised my Dad that I'd be the man of whom he could be proud."

Remembering Charlus Potter, Sirius choked up. Softly, he told his best friend, "He was proud of you, James. Always."

"That was sixth year," James continued. "Snape still started shit and I occasionally fired back, but on the whole, the `war' between us petered out." He got a goofy grin, "Your Mother and me started dating over Christmas that year. I haven't hexed old Snivelly since."

"What about the pink robes the other day?" Harry asked, his eyes narrowed.

Sirius got his back up, "Hey, kiddo. Back off."

Waving off his friend, James answered, "After all the physical damage we did to each other, pink robes is almost like a hug between the two of us."

To Sirius, the truth of this statement was so painfully obvious, he was almost surprised to see Harry internally debate the issue. Finally, he admitted, "Ok, I see that."

"My behaviour, as I think I've made pretty clear, has been less than stellar and at times reprehensible. But make no mistake, son," James tone became icy and his eyes narrowed as he leaned over the table, "Make no mistake. That man is a Death Eater. Once a man takes that Mark, there's no going back. The things that he had to do to earn that `distinction' change a man forever."

Sirius' lip curled as he remembered Mad-Eye's briefing back in '79 about the minimum requirements of becoming a full-fledged, marked Death Eater. Rape, Murder and Torture were all required. Not one, but all three. Once that line is crossed, the person is forever changed.

"Severus Snape is a violent man who is not to be trusted. Ever. Always be on your guard around him."

.oOo.

Lessons began fast and furious. Transfiguration, Charms, Arithmancy, Runes and Defence were all on the agenda. The agenda for the first day, that is. The second day was the same with Potions added into the mix.

Hermione was impressed. Harry wasn't whinging at all about the workload. For that matter, neither was she. Despite the lunacy of her schedule last year, this rapid-fire schedule was the most intense she'd ever had and she loved it.

Just like a runner enjoys pushing themselves during a workout, so too did Hermione Granger enjoy pushing herself as long and as hard as she could with her studies.

Every day, Harry kept up. He studied late, socialized not at all and woke early. Lavender Brown had tentatively brought up the situation with her the day before.

"So, Hermione…what's, er, how come you and Harry aren't in class with us any longer?" The buxom blonde-haired woman's expression was a mix between curiosity and apprehension. Hermione was well aware that she and her boyfriend had changed substantially. Harry carried himself entirely differently. Where he'd once slouched through the corridors, hoping not to be noticed, he now strode through the middle of the passageways. Hermione now walked to her destination, her head held high, meeting the gazes of those she passed.

Shrugging, Hermione obfuscated with her reply, "Harry and I are on an experimental educational track that the Headmaster has allowed us to take."

"Is it for the tournament?"

"Sort of." Squinching her face in faux regret, Hermione evaded, "I'm not really allowed to discuss it."

Her expression becoming understanding, Lavender waved her hand, "Oh, I completely understand. Don't worry about it." Her expression narrowed as a mischievous smile crossed her mouth, "Does he kiss as good as you hoped?"

Hermione couldn't help her answering smile, which told her gossipy dorm mate all she needed to know. "Lavender…" the big sigh was all the answer she gave as she left the room.

Returning to the present, she watched Harry struggle with their assigned Transfiguration topic. Reiterating James' favourite saying about his topic, she whispered to him, "Visualize, Desire and Will."

Without looking up from his book, Harry rolled his eyes. Eventually, he centred himself, took a deep breath and cast. The lump of wood on the table became a hummingbird. He smiled as the spell held for a good five minutes. When it lapsed with a loud pop, Harry looked at his watch. Turning to her, he told her, "It's holding longer."

She smiled, her pride in him overflowing.

"What?" he asked.

"You're the best," she told him with a smile.

"Oh, yeah. I'm the best, just ask Snape, Malfoy or any of my other best friends," his laughter bubbled over at the end of the statement. Eventually, he squeaked, "Rita Skeeter, she loves me, too."

"Don't make fun," she complained. "I'm being serious. You just keep at it until you get it. It's pretty inspiring."

He ducked his head as he nodded, his embarrassment evident.

Sliding next to him, she nibbled his ear before husking, "Very inspiring."

His hand slipped under the edge of her shirt, caressing her hip. "How inspiring?" he asked before kissing her neck.

Her reply was lost as she bolted out of her chair, dragging him with her. Five minutes later, they were all over each other in a broom cupboard.

.oOo.

"Dragons."

Albus nodded solemnly. The allusions that James had made to the fact that he and Sirius were majority shareholders in the Daily Prophet had not gone astray. The leverage of control of a public mouthpiece could not be ignored. Their controlling share had something to do with a timed short sale where both men had coordinated their brokers in a sale by James. The how was irrelevant, the fact remained that between James and Sirius, they owned the primary news outlet for magical Britain.

The old Headmaster reflected that blackmail for personal gain was far below James. However, he knew that the time-disjointed man would do anything to protect his family. Charlus had been much of the like and James had learned at his father's knee.

This thought prompted a deep sigh in Albus accompanied by a stab of guilt. This entire situation was quite unusual for the old Headmaster. He'd never been one for excessive remorse. Once he'd grieved the loss of Gellert, he'd not thought of him more often than happenstances and he'd considered Gellert to be his true love.

However, upon reading in the newspaper about Harry's years of torment with the Dursleys, he'd plunged into the deep storm waters of self-recrimination, rarely surfacing for a breath. He also knew better than to ever raise the issue with James or Lily. He'd been surprised so far that neither Potter had resorted to violence against him. The restraining order, he knew, was merely the opening salvo in their vengeance.

How could he have done it differently? Albus wondered about this point incessantly. Harry was the Child of Prophecy. Voldemort was definitely not dead. Albus was sure that the wizard had undergone at least one of five different methods for surviving his `accident'.

In the end, five different attempts on Harry's life were thwarted solely by the wards surrounding the Dursley home. Four of the five nascent murderers were repulsed so violently - in proportion to their intent - that the prospective attackers were permanently hospitalized.

"Dragons," James repeated bringing Albus back to the present. To conclude his inner musings, Albus resolved that he'd settle later whether the ends justified the means in Harry's situation.

"Yes, dragons. Each champion shall face their own beast. The objective being to retrieve an egg, which is also a clue to the nature of the second task."

James stared at the old man with such supressed rage and ferocity that Albus feared the physical confrontation between the two of them had come at last. He wasn't afraid of James, despite the man's combat prowess. Rather, he was afraid of the break, which such a confrontation would bring.

Once again, Albus misread a Potter. James' jaw clenched twice before slowly standing. Pausing in his turn to the door, the young man asked, "Breeds?"

"It's not really relevant, but I believe that Igor has arranged for a Welsh Green, a Chinese Fireball, an Hungarian Horntail and a…oh, blast what was the last…" he trailed off. Magicking the TriWizard folder into his hand, he flipped through it. Finding the right page, he murmured, "Ah, yes. A Swedish Short Snout. That's the last."

"Igor? Who's Igor?" James asked with a casualness that put Albus on his guard. Of course, the Headmaster chided himself; James would recognize the name.

"Igor Karkaroff. He's the Head of Durmstrang."

The sarcastic laughter that bubbled up out of James surprised Albus. He expected rage or denunciations, not a cynical fatalism from the man.

"You know, I don't know why I'm surprised. You already employ one Death Eater. Why not let another one in the castle when Voldemort's on the march?"

His expression angry, James leaned on the desk. "Tell my old friend Igor, that the thrashing I gave him back in '80 will seem like a love tap should he ever speak to my son, much less bring him harm."

Albus remembered the situation quite well. James and Sirius had been attending a clandestine meet with continental `fence sitters' in the first Blood War. As Lords Richmond and Blackmoor, it was felt that they would hold sway over the Russian and French aristocrats who Voldemort was courting. Someone - Pettigrew most likely - had betrayed the rendezvous. Igor Karkaroff had led the four-man Death Eater force that Voldemort had dispatched. Their orders were to `teach the uppity blood traitors a lesson'. When James and Sirius were done with them, Igor, along with Augustus Rookwood required three and two week stays in St. Mungo's prior to their trials.

Augustus Carrow and Steven Yaxley had been buried three days later.

Needless to say, Voldemort was unsuccessful in his attempt to court the wealthy continental aristocrats whom he wanted to supplement the Malfoy, Lestrange and Macnair wealth.

James was a competent fighter. Paired with Sirius, the duo was deadly. Adding Lily and Remus to the team made them a power that could stand against most of the forces that the Dark Lord could muster.

This was the only reason he allowed James as much leeway with Harry's schooling as he did. Albus would have to go very far afield to find a better tutoring group than James, Lily, Sirius and Remus. Adding Filius to the mix was a stroke of genius. Lily's doing, no doubt.

James' glare intensified. Albus shook away the mental digression. It seemed that he was more distracted than ever these days. Usually, it seemed to revolve around young Harry Potter.

"I have to wonder which side you support, Albus. You bring two known Death Eaters into the castle wards. You harboured Peter for years," holding up his hand to forestall the old man's objections, James added, "Knowingly or not, you harboured him. The `misadventures' my son had forced upon him the first three years here…

"It makes me wonder, Albus. Good intentions pave the road to hell. You have done very little to stand against the darkness in your deeds as opposed to your words. In fact, you've been rather incompetent and even criminally liable. Keeping the school open and exposing the students to a threat, which was continually petrifying the students? Albus…" Prongs reproached with a maliciously benign tone. The flash in his hazel eyes told the real truth and it took Albus aback, all sails flapping.

James Potter Hated Albus Dumbledore.

Not disliked or even resented. James Hated Albus with a white hot passion.

After one last long awkward silence, James left.

After the door closed behind the Head of the most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, the Earl of Richmond, the Baron Potter of Gwynedd and the heir to the legacy of Godric Gryffindor, Albus Dumbledore experienced a feeling he hadn't felt for many years.

Shame.

Slowly, he stood before shuffling to his quarters. Perhaps a long soak in the tub and a good night's sleep would help.

"I doubt it," he muttered aloud. He was right.

.oOo.

"Good Lord."

"Harry," Hermione chided. He was in the middle of revising the entire third year curriculum for Arithmancy. Sirius had an unusual understanding of the subject. Once Harry had his mind around the visualization of the subject matter, he began to progress rapidly.

I didn't mean that the topic wasn't drudgery, though.

Hermione was studying the Patronus charm. Where Harry excelled in the practical application of magic, Hermione approached a spell from the other direction. Once she understood why a spell worked, application came easily to her.

"Hermione," Harry began in a falsely patient tone, "I'm doing my best under extraordinary conditions here. Give me a break about my language." He paused, an expression of curiosity taking over his face. "Why does cursing bother you so much?"

Setting her book down, she considered the question. The first thing that came to mind was a wholly inadequate answer. Blushing a bit, she admitted, "Well, my Mum is always having a go at Dad whenever he curses."

"Ok," he grinned at her, "it's partly a learned habit. Lame, but I understand." His eyes danced as hers narrowed in response. After jabbing him in the ribs, she thought a bit more.

"It's also uncouth." Waving aside his immediate objection, she told him, "When your Mum let's go, it's usually in private and just us. It's more as if she's letting her hair down. Here," she swept her hand in a gesture to include the entire library, "Others can hear. It's somewhat trashy. Other than when your Mum is really mad, she never curses in public."

Lapsing back into thought, she considered some more. Most people would allow the other two answers to be sufficient, but Hermione wanted to know all the answer. Even if it wasn't very complimentary to herself.

Lost in her thoughts, she almost missed his timid venture, "Could part of it be related to the infamous `bossy witch'?"

Her mouth was open to snap a refusal at him when her brain caught up. The blood drained from her face when she took his statement to its logical conclusion. She tried to control those about her because she firmly believed that she knew best. Horrified, she couldn't help but admit that there was more than a bit of truth in the statement. The most shameful aspect was the concluding thought: And it didn't matter what that person wanted.

Her mouth cycling like a fish out of water, she turned to her boyfriend hoping for support. She dreaded an accusatory glare. Her stomach unclenched when she saw the soft accepting expression there. He reached out his hand in an encouraging gesture.

"It's amazing how blind I can be about my own faults," he told her in an understanding tone.

"Mum gave me what for yesterday about me trying to take the blame for the whole Dumbledore and tournament nightmare. The whole time I was whinging about being The Boy-Who-Lived. He gave a quirky grin, "It wasn't much fun being on the receiving end or her tongue, let me tell you. The thing is, she could see how I take too much on myself. In retrospect, it's not a pleasant trait."

Looking her in the eye, he told her, "So, I'm working on it. Don't expect an overnight miracle, but I'm working on it."

His meaning clear, she took his little story to heart and decided to apply the same principles to herself. She smiled to match his. Taking his meaning as graciously as she could, she squeezed his hand tight. "I love you so much. What did I ever do to deserve you?"

He gave a soft laugh. Kissing the back of her hand, he countered, "It's more like `what did I ever do to be worthy of you'?"

Without further comment, they resumed their studies. They were a bit closer, a bit more in love. Definitely, they were better friends. Hermione mused that it was amazing what honesty, courage and a willing vulnerability could do for a relationship.

.oOo.

Lily had a headache. It was one of those throbbers that starts behind the eyes before swarming out radially back across the skull. Eventually, she'd have to go to bed, all the lights doused. Lily had hoped to avoid puking her guts up, this time. However, it was a fate that was unavoidable. Four of Poppy's best hadn't done the trick, so she headed to the toilet where she purged her stomach. It helped. Slightly.

Pressing the heel of her hand to the centre of her forehead helped a little more. She and James had been researching dragons for the previous few days. They'd hit upon a solution which they felt Harry could execute.

Their son had made significant progress in his Transfiguration skills once his Dad had taken over his schooling. Just like that night back in sixth year, Lily had been proud of how well James was teaching his son such a difficult and complex subject.

They'd decided that Harry would put his newfound skill to work for him. James had shoved the fifth Universal Law of Transfiguration down Harry and Hermione's throat so that he'd be capable of performing the spells.

First, they had Harry transfigure some of the material in his coliseum (as Sirius called it) into birds. Right now, they were leaning toward falcons, as they were swift and agile. A quick Compulsion charm would have them swirling about the dragon's head causing a distraction and irritant for the beast.

"We want to anger the dragon?" a pale faced Hermione asked as Harry gaped at his parents as they explained the plan.

"When it's mad, it won't think straight," James had reasoned.

Harry and Hermione had exchanged a doubtful look before Harry conceded. "Ok. I guess."

Once the falcons were attacking the dragon, Harry would transfigure four dogs. Compulsion charms would send them running opposite Harry's intended path. They would draw the incited dragon away from her next.

The Disillusioned, Silent and Sterile (a series of charms, which removed all scents and odours) would then sprint to the nest. After retrieving the egg, he would sprint for the nearest exit.

The plan was sound. Harry had already mastered the charms. James had told her earlier that Hermione and Harry had mastered the avian transfiguration today, so that was well in hand. The dogs were a minor variation that he'd master within hours of the falcons.

Lily was beginning to relax a bit about the whole thing. Not much, for Harry still had to face a dragon. A fucking DRAGON. What Albus Bloody Dumbledore was thinking when he agreed to this ridiculous task, she'd never know.

James was off with young Neville Longbottom. The boy was the spitting image of his father. James and Sirius had taken Neville down to Hogsmeade, regaling the softly smiling boy with tales of smart, witty and popular Frank Longbottom. As they left, Sirius was launching into the story of how Frank successfully won Alice Strothers' heart.

From what Harry and Hermione had related, poor Neville hadn't been brought up in the most supportive environment. She remembered the Dowager Lady Longbottom - for Lily couldn't think of Augusta in any other way - remembered here well. The Lady Longbottom was a taciturn woman to the point of severity. Hopefully, Prongs and Padfoot could help the lad.

The knocking on her door caused a jet of pain to rocket form temple to temple.

"Come in," she groaned.

The door opened, allowing a wall of light in the darkened room. Just before she slammed her eyes shut, Lily recognized her son's silhouette in the doorway.

"Mum?" he called into the room.

"Come in and close the door," she moaned. Pressing her hands to her head, she fought back her gag reflex. After regaining control of her body, she heard him sit in the chair next to her.

"Are you Ok?" he asked with tenderness. "I can get Madam Pomfrey."

Sure that her smile more closely resembled a grimace, Lily explained, "It's just a really bad headache. I get them from time to time. Already taken my potions," she finished as she waved toward the small collections of empty vials.

"Oh," he observed. Through squinting eyes, she watched him fidget.

Eventually, her poor temper gave way, "What do you want, honey?"

He gave her a fleeting grin at the endearment before starting to stand, "You're not well. I'll come back tomorrow."

Grasping his arm, she insisted, "No, you'll tell me now. What's going on?"

With a wry expression, he began speaking no louder than a whisper. "I've been thinking - about the task I mean. Talking with Hermione, she insisted I speak to you and Dad."

With a slight growl, Lily asked, "What's the problem? I think we have a good plan."

"Sure, sitting here we have a great plan. When I'm twenty metres from one of the most powerful and deadly creatures on the planet, I think we don't have such a good plan."

Frowning, Lily really tried hard to keep from shouting. On the one hand, she didn't want to shout that her son. On the other hand, she didn't want the puking and retching, which were sure to follow the shouting. "Explain," she commanded through her screaming headache.

Glaring a bit at her tone, her son began, "I believe that I have the most experience in our family with class five and six dangerous creatures."

Slowing her breathing, Lily made a reluctant sound of agreement. She'd forcibly suppressed the idea that her son had fought and slain an ancient basilisk as a twelve year old boy. Nevertheless, he had a point.

"When the balloon goes up, I'll be so scared that I really doubt I'll be able to pull off all those fancy transfigurations. Yeah, I can do them in the classroom, but with a huge dragon bellowing at me? Don't think so. The charms are easy, but the falcons and dogs? Not so much."

To be fair, Lily had had a truly shitty day. Therefore, when she snapped, "So what's your plan then?" she wasn't completely in control of herself.

She saw him brace himself before answering. "Fly. I'll summon my broom and out fly the dragon."

Staring at him, she was astonished. "Of all the hare brained ideas I've heard from your father, this one takes the cake. You want to give up all control of the situation and hope you can out fly a beast that could very well weigh in at twenty tons and shoots bloody flames out of its mouth!"

She was shouting at the end before she subsided with a groaning, "Oh, fuck this hurts."

His hand on her shoulder steadied her inner balance. A few moments later, she took a deep breath, "Thanks."

He nodded before tentatively picking up the thread. "Look, Mum. Trust me when I tell you that simpler is better out there. I'm confident in my flying."

"What does Hermione say?" she asked in an attempt to bring her son `round.

Narrowing his eyes at her, he replied, "She agrees with me."

Flinching in pain after rolling her eyes, Lily laid down the law. "Harry, we'll be going with the plan as discussed. The task is the day after tomorrow; it's too late for changes."

Laying her hand on his clenched one, she tried to console him. "Look, I know you're scared. I'm scared and I'm not going into that ring. It'll be alright, honey."

Closing her eyes to regain her sense of equilibrium, she told him "I'm really sorry, but I have to get to bed before I spew all over you."

The last thing she remembered before sleep took her was, "I love you too, Mum."

.oOo.

The day of the first task was a nightmare. Sirius had taken it upon himself to wake Harry. After the obligatory flirt with the Fat Lady, he scooted up the steps to the Fourth year boy's dormitory. Opening the door, he was assaulted with the strong odour of unwashed teenage boy. Unused to the smell after so long away from school, he recoiled for a minute before drawing his wand. A quick Air Freshening spell left the room smelling pine fresh.

The chainsaw of snores from the redheaded teen caused Sirius' to shake his head. A few days after returning to the school, Harry had pulled his godfather aside.

"Sirius, I need help."

"What?"

"I'm going to kill Ron Weasley and don't want to go to Azkaban."

With feigned confusion, Sirius asked, "So, do you want help with the `killing' part or the `staying out of prison' part? I'm probably not the right guy to help you with the `staying out of prison'. Though, I'm pretty good with the `getting out of prison without a formal release' part."

By the end of his meanderings, Sirius had elicited a grin from his godson so he sat back in his chair, waiting.

`Ron's being a complete arse," Harry told the dark haired animagus as he deflated.

"Ok, tell me what's the what."

"Well, you know how he got all jealous about me getting forced into the tournament?" Sirius nodded. He and Harry had chatted about the topic back at Rowan Hill.

"Well, it's worse than I thought. At first it was just the silent treatment, but now he's making all these snide little bitchy comments that make me want to tear off his ears." Shaking his head in frustration, He sighed, "I've been talking with Hermione and told her that if Ron wanted to be friends, I'd be here for him. But now…" he trailed off, his intent clear.

Harry explained further, "If it was anyone else I'd tell them to fuck off and get on with it. But this is a guy who was my mate for years, you know? The biggest part of me wants to wait and see if he can get his cranial-rectal inversion unfucked, but….he was my friend," Harry finished softly.

His eyes narrowing, Sirius asked, "Like Peter?"

Scrunching up his face, Harry demurred, "No, I don't think it's like that. Yeah, Peter did a runner on you guys, but Ron isn't killing people or what."

"Yet."

Rolling his eyes, Harry admitted, "True. Anyway, I guess the gist of your opinion is telling him to bugger off and find a new friend."

"Pretty much. Gotta remember, being The Boy-Who-Lived and the scion of Richmond, lots of people are going to suck up to you to get access to your fame or money. I'd not give a lot of second chances." Pausing for a minute, he recommended, "Neville Longbottom seems a good sort."

"He is. We've been hanging out with him in the library or common room. He's studying other stuff, but he's one of those genuinely nice people, you know?"

"Yeah. Look, I'm not saying give it to Ron in the neck, but be wary. Let him run his mouth and play his little games. It says a lot more about him than it does about you and Hermy."

"Mate, don't call her that," Harry joked as he looked about for his girlfriend. "She'll murder you if she hears that."

"But I'm her loving pseudo father, the great Pad Footed One."

Laughing as he smacked his godfather upside the head, he corrected him, "No, you're a moron."

With a slight smile, Sirius returned to the present as he passed by the now former friend of his godson and his Hermione. Neville was laying there on his back, snoring like a buzz saw - good lad that one. Too bad about Frank and Alice. In the corner, he saw his godson.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, Harry was already dressed in the robes provided for the tournament. His head in his hands, Harry was in a praying pose.

Sirius was suddenly terrified for his godson. In a few short hours, Harry would be face to face with a dragon. While he considered a Basilisk more dangerous, a dragon was a very close second. Scrubbing his face to get a hold of himself, Padfoot gave a great shuddering sigh.

Harry must have heard him for when Sirius dropped his hands, Harry was watching him. "Hey, Padfoot," Harry greeted softly.

Beckoning his godson out of the room, Sirius turned to leave. Heading to the common room, he sat on a chair in the corner of the room, under the large bay window. Harry settled opposite him and they were both silent for a long minute.

"It'll be Ok," Sirius attempted to reassure Harry. When he only got a sarcastic expression in return, Sirius rolled his eyes before shrugging. "Ok, I'm hoping really fucking hard that it'll be alright."

"At least it's honest," Harry muttered.

"So where's Hermione?" Sirius asked.

Harry glanced at his watch, "She'll be down in a few minutes."

Time seemed to slow as they sat there, chatting. In later years, Sirius would tell Harry that he had no idea what they talked about for that half hour. They filled up the time with nattering to keep from running mad. Life became flashes of colour and bursts of sound for Sirius as he tried to hold himself together. The affected mirth and good humour seemed to be working as Harry relaxed a bit. At least, he appeared to relax.

Soon enough, the whole family was congregated around the far end of the Gryffindor house table. Lily's cajoling resulted in a plate of food in her son's belly before he realized what was going on. Sirius smirked; Lily was their `little mother' during seventh year when she and James had been seriously dating. Looks like it was a practise run for her real kid.

Walking down to the champion's pavilion en masse, Sirius watched Harry. On his left was Lily, gently - but firmly - grasping her son's hand. On his right was Hermione who had her left arm wrapped in Harry's right. Sirius wanted to smile at the sugary sweetness of the situation, but just couldn't muster the smile for his humour. He was tapped out of false humour, having worn himself out in the morning. To his surprise, his hand shook as he raked it through his hair.

There were no words. Try as he might to think of something witty or even wise, nothing came. Seeing Remus and James wordlessly hugging Harry, Padfoot figured it was the same for them. Of course, Lily held Harry longest, though Hermione waited with her boyfriend as the adults all moved off to the stands.

It seemed as if the entire event was a dream. Everything was moving in slow motion once again. Eventually, Hermione wordlessly joined them. The silent tears on her face gave the truth of her feelings

Time seemed to slow, yet move at a rapid pace. Sound dribbled to nothing, while people moved by Sirius at such a quick pace, he had a hard time keeping track of what was going on around him. He felt Hermione take his hand to tug him to their seats. She didn't even look at him, her face terror stricken and drawn in fear for her boyfriend. He savoured the stray thought that it was pretty neat that Hermione depended on him for comfort .

Sitting next to Moony, Sirius fixed his gaze on the opening of the ring where the champions were to meet their fate.

First in came the Diggory boy. The Swedish Short Snout didn't buy the feint. The transfigured dog was roasted and then the boy caught the tail end of another burst of fire. Lucky for him that a Short Snout can only breathe fire after a full minute recovery period drifted through Sirius' head, unbidden.

As Madam Pomfrey tended to the wounded boy, Sirius vaguely heard Lily panicking on the other side of Moony. Unfortunately, he didn't have the energy or focus to pay attention. The entirety of his being was focused on the tunnel where the champions were arriving. Again, time slowed. The Chinese Fireball was tugged and beaten into place by her handlers. An untimely explosion of flame killed one of the poor sods.

That stopped things for a bit, as the corpse was taken away. Didn't stop the tournament, though. "Fuckers," Sirius muttered to himself.

Next up was the Bulgarian Quidditch player. Sirius dismissed him as he focused on the tunnel to the tents. Vaguely, he noticed that the foreigner evaded the dragon while retrieving his prize.

The shaking of his right arm roused Padfoot a bit. Turning to Hermione, he saw her hyperventilating. Her arm was still hooked in his as she gasped for air, hence the shaking. Tears were streaming down her face as she gasped for breath. Used to Peter's vapours from school, Sirius effortlessly conjured a paper bag before handing it to Hermione. He tried to offer her a gentle smile, but couldn't muster the will to follow up on the effort.

When Hermione calmed, Sirius noticed that the next dragon, a Welsh Green, was in place. A stunningly beautiful young woman strode out of the tunnel. The letch in Padfoot admired her assets, but quickly resumed his vigil. Harry was to be next out of the tunnel.

He drooped a bit as he caught the edge of the high power Sleeping Spell cast by the part Veela girl, but quickly shook it off as he refocused on the tunnel.

A part of his mind processed that the incredibly hot chick got her egg, but he ignored it.

Harry was next.

`Holy Fuck," Sirius muttered as he heard the first shriek of Harry's dragon. The Hungarian Horntail was out of sight, but the squealing sound of metal ripping as the dragon let known her displeasure almost brought up Sirius' breakfast.

Holding his face in his hands, Sirius felt Moony's hand on his back as he heard Hermione repeat, "Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God."

Then he was there.

He looks so small was the only thought that Sirius could muster. As Harry dove behind a rock for cover, Sirius saw his godson cast a spell but couldn't make which one due to the noise by the Horntail.

"Come on, come on," became Hermione's new mantra.

From his left, he heard Lily, "What's he waiting for?" Seconds passed as the Horntail jockeyed for a better angle at her opponent as he hid behind a humongous rock. Harry was immobile; waiting.

Just live, boyo.

Then the Firebolt screamed into the ring. Leaping out of the way of a new stream of fire from the enraged Horntail, Harry landed on his broom, shooting into the sky.

Sirius couldn't help but smile and scream his approval as Harry took wing. Jumping to his feet, Sirius saw Harry live up to his billing as the best flyer in Hogwarts. Whirling and diving, Harry defied Icarus' fate. Corkscrewing down at the dragon's head, he buzzed by the nesting mother doing at least 300 knots. The boy was a blur of red, black and white.

Smiling, he cheered, "GO HARRY!"

Sirius didn't even realize he was standing as his godson engaged in a deadly dance. Just as the mongoose fights the cobra, Harry bobbed left then right looking for an opening. Darting in toward the dragon was a bad idea. The Horntail shot a stream of fire followed up by a diving lunge. She missed Harry by mere centimetres.

As he rocketed off to the sky, Sirius saw Harry shake his head as if to say, "That was close."

"Come on, come on," Hermione repeated on his right.

There was silent watching from Prongs, Lily and Moony on his left.

Now the dragon was pissed. Rearing on her hind legs, she flapped her wings, once, twice got her balance before filing the sky with flame.

Sirius paled. It looked like the entire sky was burning and he couldn't see his godson anywhere.

"THERE!" he heard Hermione shout.

Following her pointed finger, he saw the blur that must be Harry. He was a mere five feet off the ground as he screamed in to the dragon's nest.

Before Sirius could take breath to cheer, Harry had his egg and was peeling off to the right. He jerked as the dragon took a swipe at him with her tail, but still cleared the arena.

He made it. Dropping his head in his hands, Sirius wept in relief.

Once again, time resumed its normal pace.

.oOo.

Hermione had never seen James and Lily so angry. She was sprinting through the crowd, but before leaving Sirius and the others, she'd seen Lily's red face accompanied by the set way James gets when he's about to tear someone to pieces. It was the expression he wore when he lit into Rita Skeeter.

Ignoring the reactions of the elder Potters, Hermione focused on reaching the younger Potter. Weaving through the stands, she finally saw him as he emerged from the healer's tent. Her guts unclenched when she saw him roll his shoulder, testing the recent healing. When he didn't wince, she knew he'd be all right.

All that was in the back of her formidable mind as she launched herself through the air at her best friend. Fortunately for her, he saw her coming and held out his arms to her. Wrapping her legs about his waist, she held on for all she was worth.

"I love you, I love you, I love you…," she whispered in his ear.

"I'm Ok," he told her. "Naught but a scratch."

What seemed like an eternity later, but was in reality just a short minute, Hermione placed her feet on the ground. Moving into the loose circle of his arms, she became aware of the rest of the family catching up with her.

Harry smiled at his family when they approached. The smile faded when Lily fumed, "Harry, what in the world was that?"

Hermione frowned, "Didn't you talk to your parents about changing the plan?" she asked her boyfriend.

"Yeah," Harry glowered. "Mum thought I was being…'hare brained' I believe was her term. She decided that `we' would go with the transfiguration based plan."

"We?" Remus asked, surprised.

Snorting, Harry replied, "Yeah, `we'."

Hermione turned her frown on Lily, waiting for her reply. Boy, did she get one.

"I told you that you were to use the transfiguration based plan. I'll have a very good reason from you why you disobeyed me, young man."

Hermione's eyes went wide. This wasn't going to be good. Turning to her boyfriend, she felt like a spectator at Wimbledon. Back and forth, back and forth. Serve, volley, return.

With narrowed eyes, Harry gave truth to the fact that he'd not only inherited his mother's green eyes, but her temper as well. "Disobeyed?" he asked in a quiet tone, his displeasure clear.

"Yes." Lily wasn't giving an inch, despite Hermione's belief that she was out of order. Strangely, James had been silent during the entire exchange, but his position at his wife's side told his opinion as loud as words ever could.

Harry looked at the ground while he toed a loose rock. It was evident he was really exerting himself to hold his temper, so she wound her arm in his while whispering, "It's Ok, Harry. They just don't understand. They love you. They were just scared…" She didn't finish what she'd planned to be a deeply insightful and reassuring statement as she was interrupted by a volatile redheaded witch.

"What don't we understand, young lady?" Lily barked.

"Don't you talk to her that way," Harry thundered.

Out of the corner of her now narrowed eyes, Hermione saw Sirius stiffen. "Hey, Lily, take it easy," he began.

Without looking at him, she snarled, "Shut it Padfoot."

Remus stepped in, literally. Moving in between Lily, James and the rest of the family, he held up his hands in a placating manner, "We're all emotionally upset. That wasn't much fun for any of us." He caught Harry's eye, trying to make his point without elaboration.

Hermione leaned into her boyfriend as he nodded his understanding. Hermione was exhausted from watching Harry in his task, much less participating in it and facing a huge dragon. Taking a deep breath, she collected herself.

"Lily," Remus began. When the redhead didn't let up her high intensity glare from her son, Moony stood in her way. "It's over. Shouting now won't change a thing."

Her face softening Lily nodded.

Apparently, Harry had reached the limit of his endurance, though. Lashing out, he snarled, "What the fuck do you think you're on about?"

Taken aback by the words and tone from their son, James and Lily stared.

Uh oh. Not good… Hermione observed silently. She'd seen Harry this angry only a few times. The first had been shortly after the Troll incident in first year. Draco Malfoy had just gone off on one of his buffoonish rants when Harry had cold cocked him. There were no words or threats from Harry; just a right cross that left the blond prat senseless.

Not wanting to repeat that situation, Hermione started to push Harry away from his parents. Unfortunately, he was far stronger than she was so he didn't move too far.

"I mean, I've been fighting Voldemort, killing creatures that make that dragon look like a puppy," he gestured wildly at the ring where the handlers had finally subdued the enraged Horntail.

"Now you lot show up and are going to be all in charge? " Raking his left hand through his hair, he calmed a bit, "Look, don't get me wrong, having the two of you in my life is easily the best thing that's ever happened to me, but you've got to remember that I've been effectively on my own for years now." Pointing his finger at his mother, he declared, "There was no good reason to go with the transfiguration based plan other than `because you said so' and I'm sorry, but that's not a good enough reason."

Hermione saw Harry glare at his now shamefaced mother, "So back the fuck off, alright? I have no problem following you if it makes sense. So far, everything has made sense. Except this. And you know what?"

He leaned in to whisper with more than a bit of vehemence, "Our `hare brained idea' worked."

Spinning on his heel, Harry took off for the castle, Hermione's hand in his. As she hurried to keep up with her irate boyfriend, Hermione heard Padfoot tell his cousin and cousin's wife, "Well, you completely bollixed that up. Good job."

She couldn't agree more.

.oOo.

Harry was in the corner of the library staring at a book he was supposed to have finished reading yesterday. Hermione was at his side, doing her own impression of reading an advanced Arithmancy book, but he'd noticed her lack of page turning twenty three minutes earlier.

"Should I go apologize to them?" he whispered to her.

The agony in his tone must have betrayed his inner fear. Despite the voluminous proof to the contrary, Harry was terrified his parents would one day realize what a freak he really was before leaving him in their wake. It was inevitable, he thought. The sound of Vernon's screams rang in his ears, "YOU'RE A NO GOOD FREAK!"

Dropping all pretence at studying, Hermione tossed her book on the table before wrapping an arm about her boyfriend. "You're family. They'll never willingly leave you. They love you, despite their atrocious behaviour this morning."

Catching his chin, Hermione turned Harry's face toward her. Placing a soft kiss on his mouth, she told him, "We were all of us terrified for you. Sirius was nearly comatose he was so scared. I guess your Mum and Dad just got angry in reaction to their fear. It's a common response."

He frowned. Cupping her cheek, he asked the logical question, "And how did you react?"

She gave a forced laugh, "I hyperventilated before crying my eyes out."

His frown softened to a look of regret. "I'm sorry…" the oh so familiar guilt welled up in his chest. Aside from the physical abuse his Aunt and Uncle had heaped upon him, they'd also conditioned him to accept the blame for every situation where there was discord. He and his Mum had a long talk about it and Harry had resolved to move past it. However, old habits die hard. Just as he was threatened to be overwhelmed by guilt and misplaced shame, he heard exactly what he needed.

`I love you," she blurted. Obviously, Hermione didn't know what to say to help Harry, so she reached for the old standby. One could never go wrong in declaring their love for their beloved.

Harry couldn't help himself, his smile was wide and genuine in response to her declaration. He'd had so few tell him that they loved him, that her love was a wondrous thing for him. In his turn, he placed a loving kiss on her warm mouth. Their lips parted and tongues duelled in that age old dance of lovers.

The nervous clearing of two throats brought Harry and Hermione out of each other. Slowly, they parted to see James and Lily standing there. Instead of his parents' usual happy and buoyant expressions, Harry was saddened to see them both morose and nervous. It was especially depressing to see the glum face on his perpetually happy father. It was disheartening for Harry, despite his success in the first task.

Holding Hermione's hand firmly, he silently gestured for James and Lily to sit across from them.

James took a deep breath before beginning. "I'm not going to beat around the bush. We were completely in the wrong this morning. I hope you understand that the emotion of the moment overtook both of us and we reacted badly. That doesn't make what occurred acceptable by any means. It's merely the reason."

When James looked his son in the eye, Harry was astonished to see a hint of a tear, "I'm very sorry for my behaviour, son. I love you and will do my best to prevent a repetition of my boorish behaviour."

Harry was very impressed, though he didn't consider James' silent agreement and encouragement of Lily to be too egregious. Turning his gaze on his mother, Harry waited.

With a slowness that gave Harry the impression that his mother had a ten ton weight about her neck, Lily raised her face to meet her son's gaze. She flinched when she saw his expression. Harry quickly realised that his resentment of his mother's words and deeds must have been very plain on his face.

Feeling the squeeze in his hand, he nodded in Hermione's direction. Once again, she was his anchor. Promising to himself to snog her senseless later, he waited for Lily to say something.

In a low voice she told him, "These last hours I've reviled myself for my hot headed words. You deserve a far better mother than I've been to you over the last few days. I'm very sorry that I said those things. Not only the harsh words of this morning, but also when I called your idea `hare brained'. That was unfair and unwarranted. I'm very sorry for it all."

Realizing that high emotion was the culprit in this scenario, and a vicious headache, Harry decided to end it all before it got any worse. He'd made his point: he wasn't a little boy who needed Mummy and Daddy to hold his hand and tell him when to pee.

"I forgive you." Glancing at his Dad, he clarified, "Both of you. Let's just move on." His discomfort with the situation gnawed at him as he shuffled in his seat. It was a great relief when his parents nodded in assent.

"So, there's going to be a ball over Christmas. Who're you going to take?" James asked with his usual grin.

Harry couldn't help the groan that escaped as Hermione gave a very un-Hermione-ish squeal. The sharp jab in his ribs produced the requisite, "Hermione, would you please go to the Yule Ball with me?"

She leaned over, placing a kiss on his cheek as she replied, "I'd love to."

"So?"

Harry's attention was brought to his mother who had an expectant expression as she arched her brow at Harry's Dad.

"Dearest of my heart, woman of my world, witch who owns my very soul," James began dramatically. Standing with a flourish, he knelt before Lily, grasping her hand tenderly. After placing a chaste kiss on her knuckles, he asked his wife, "Would you do me the unparalleled honour of attending a school dance with me even though we be not students?"

Harry and Hermione were both laughing by now. Lily couldn't supress her own grin as she replied, "I'd love to."

Turning to Hermione, she extended her hand, "Come on, let's go talk dress robes."

.oOo.

Because of their new study schedule, Harry didn't have much interaction with the rest of the school outside of passing in the hallways or sharing a table in the library. Nonetheless, Harry and Neville were quickly becoming friends. The shy Longbottom scion was spending more time with his godfather, James, and as such became part of the greater family. Many times the teens would snicker and laugh as the Marauders would be overcome by their inner chaos, causing mayhem and mess in their classroom. Most of the time, Lily walked out, but on occasion, she would hex them all within an inch of their lives. Remus still had excessive body hair in unmentionable places while Padfoot had his knees reversed for two days.

"So, who are you taking to the ball?" Hermione asked Neville. They were taking a break from studying. Lily had admitted that they weren't going to make her goal of finishing Fifth year by Christmas, but it would be close. They'd be in the heart of Sixth year material by Valentine's day.

Neville shuffled a bit as he rearranged his parchment. "I was thinking of asking Ginny Weasley," he replied in his soft spoken voice.

Harry frowned, "I didn't know that you liked Ginny."

"I don't. Well, she's nice enough and all, but I think the entire country knows who she's really in to." Harry rolled his eyes as Hermione laughed.

"He's mine."

Neville smiled, "Yeah, I think everyone else in the castle gets that."

"So who do you really want to go with?" Harry pressed.

Pulling at a loose thread, Neville muttered, "Sue Bones."

Nodding his head, Harry gave Hermione a `look'. The look, which meant, `Help a Bloke Out Who Doesn't Know His Arse From A Hole In The Ground'.

Giving Harry a surreptitious wink, she asked Neville, "Why don't you ask her?"

With wide, panicked eyes, Neville nearly shouted, "Are you insane? She's beautiful and popular and…well a lot better than I could ever hope to fancy me."

Now Hermione frowned. "Neville, you're a very nice guy who is filling out nicely. I know for a fact that many of the Gryffindor girls have commented on how good looking you've become."

His face crimson, he muttered something probably self-deprecatory. Harry recognized the response. Giving Hermione a wink in return, he told his friend, "How do you think I got this wonderfully beautiful and intelligent young witch?" he gestured to his girlfriend as he asked. "Be a Gryffindor, Nev. Ask Sue, I'm sure she'll say yes and if she doesn't? Well, then you know, right?"

With a sarcastic look, Neville gibed, "Easy for you to say with your soul mate on your arm when you're fourteen."

Now it was Hermione and Harry's turn to blush crimson. Through her emotion, she urged Neville, "Ask her Neville. She's a really sweet girl who has the disadvantage of having an Aunt who's the head copper for magical Britain. Scares off a lot of boys."

Frowning, Neville countered, "But Miss Bones is a really nice lady. She comes over for tea with Gran occasionally."

With wide eyes, Harry asked, "And you chat with Sue then?"

Shrugging, Neville put him off, "Some."

Standing, Harry hooked his friend under the shoulder as he pulled him out of his chair. "Come on, we're going to find the younger Miss Bones right now."

Hermione smiled as the two boys left on their `mission'. Digging into her books, she didn't even notice that an hour had passed before Harry returned.

Plopping into his chair, he wore a shit-eating grin. Hermione knew the answer, but asked it just to hear the details. "So, how did it go?"

"Miss Bones assented to allow Mister Longbottom to escort her to the Yule Ball."

Hermione smiled, his Dad was having an impression on his son and Hermione had to say she liked seeing Harry so carefree. "And?" she pressed.

"They are currently becoming better acquainted."

Confused, she asked, "But I thought they were old friends?"

Shaking his head and rolling his eyes, he answered, "Love, that's a euphemism for snogging. She got this big look on her face before nearly shouting, `I'd love to!' then jumped him. I beat a hasty retreat along with Hannah Abbot and Justin. It was quite amusing, really."

Hermione stood, walked around the table before sitting on Harry's lap. Slowly, she kissed from his ear to his collarbone. By the time she got to his collar, Harry was squirming. When she sucked lightly on his neck, he moaned. When she nipped at his collarbone, he pounced.

Thirty minutes later, she was casting the Bruise Removing curse on both their necks while sporting a lust addled grin.

"Where did you learn that spell?" Harry asked as he checked his neck in a conjured mirror. He knew better than to see his Dad, Godfather or `Uncle' whilst sporting a hickey.

She laughed lightly, "Do you really want to know?"

Shrugging, he replied, "Sure."

"Your Mum."

Closing his eyes, he groaned in a manner very different from the previous hour. "Could you hit me with a short Memory Charm?"

"Nope," she grinned.

"Ugh. Next thing you'll tell me that she taught you a Contraceptive charm."

When Hermione was silent, he realized what he said. Quickly, he told her, "Don't tell me! For the love of all that's holy, I really don't want to think of my Mum casting either of these charms, but will live with the Bruise Remover as I can think of lots of un-squicky ways that it can be used. The other…" Harry shuddered as he finished his thought.

Smiling, she gave him one last deep kiss. "Love you," she whispered.

"Love you too."

***OMAKE***

Ok, this came from a review by Bobmin356 that left me giggling. I told Bob that I'd put it in the story at the end of this chapter. I wanted to use it in the story, but as you just read, I wanted Harry and his parents to have their first real disagreement/conflict. Therefore, you get this hilarious idea in an OMAKE. Read on! Thanks Bob…

.oOo.

Harry steps from the tent and enters the arena with the dragon. Carefully, he moves until the judging and visitor stand is directly behind the dragon. He eyes the vicious snarling beast for a moment, then lifts his wand.

"Accio Snape! Accio Dumbledore!"

With a deft flick of his wand, he cancels the spell and the two professors fall on to the dragon, who rears back and screams in defiance of the attack.

Grinning widely while Snape shrieks like a little girl and is trampled under one clawed paw, Harry darts forward and grabs the egg, taking advantage of the distracted dragon.

Once he's safely beyond the reach of the dragon, he places the egg on the ground, urinates on it, then calmly walks off to the tent, giving everyone a middle finger salute.

The audience is stunned to silence except for Harry's Dad, godfather and uncle who immediately start cheering.

Inside the tent, Harry knows his mother isn't going to be happy. Nor will Hermione, and he isn't sure which lecture he's more worried about.

Now that's a good dragon tale.

.oOo.

*muggledad giggles like his four-year-old daughters*

"Do it again, Bob. That was funny."

A/N

1. I own nothing. Thanks to all who reviewed the first five chapters. Story status, as always, can be found on my Author's page on FanFiction(dot)net.

2. Recommendation for the chapter is Into the West, by elecktrum. I've been reading a lot of fics in the Chronicles of Narnia genre and I'm here to tell you that elecktrum's stuff is amazing. She takes children's stories and approaches the universe from an adult perspective while still maintaining the wonder and beauty that Professor Lewis instilled in his books. Amazing are her works. They get a bit gooey in the brotherly love between Peter and Edmund (no slash), but if you've read any of my stuff, overly emotional is my middle name. Actually, it's Charles but that's not the point. Into the West is an excellent story where I began to read her stories. The companion fic, They Also Serve, is fantastic as well. I dare you to read just one of her stories.

3. As I mentioned last chapter about Lily's perspective regarding Snape, it's very important, sometimes, what a character doesn't say. Such is the case with Dumbledore's internal monologue.

4. Yule Ball and Second Task next chapter. Muse on possible reactions from Sirius when he realizes that Hermione should be `what he misses most'. Oh yeah, Harry might be a tad upset, too. And James. And Lily. And Remus. Hell, even Rauri will be angry.

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