mirrorball

chapter twenty four

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

There was no means of steering; the dragon could not see where it was going, and Clara knew that if it turned sharply or rolled in midair they would find it impossible to cling onto its broad back. Nevertheless, as they climbed higher and higher, London unfurling below them like a gray-and-green map, Clara's overwhelming feeling was of gratitude for an escape that had seemed impossible. Crouching low over the beast's neck, she clung tight to Harry, and the cool breeze was soothing on her raw, burning skin, the dragon's wings beating the air like the sails of a windmill. Behind her, whether from delight or fear she could not tell, Ron kept swearing at the top of his voice, and Hermione seemed to be sobbing. She raised her head slightly to look in front of her. She found Harry's eyes on her, his smile radiating light into the darkest parts of her heart. "This is insane, right?" he said, yelling slightly over the wind. He laughed and Clara nodded her head in agreement, still worried that if she opened her mouth hot vomit would spill everywhere.

After five minutes or so, Clara lost some of the immediate dread that the dragon was going to throw them off, for it seemed intent on nothing but getting as far away from its underground prison as possible; but the question of how and when they were to dismount remained rather frightening. Additionally, her stomach was still in knots. She had no idea how long dragons could fly without landing, nor how this particular dragon, which could barely see, would locate a good place to put down. The dragon seemed to crave cooler and fresher air. It climbed steadily until they were flying through wisps of chilly cloud, and Clara could no longer make out the little colored dots which were cars pouring in and out of the capital. On and on they flew, over countryside parceled out in patches of green and brown, over roads and rivers winding through the landscape like strips of matte and glossy ribbon. 

"What do you reckon it's looking for?" Ron yelled as they flew farther and farther north. 

"No idea," Harry bellowed back. Clara's hands were numb with cold but she did not dare attempt to shift her grip. Her arms remained wrapped tightly around Harry's back, her hands clutching his shirt. Clara wondered the same thing, surely the dragon would need sustenance before long? And what if, at that point, it realized it had three highly edible humans sitting on its back?

The sun slipped lower in the sky, which was turning indigo; and still the dragon flew, cities and towns gliding out of sight beneath them, its enormous shadow sliding over the earth like a giant dark cloud.

"Is it my imagination," shouted Ron after a considerable stretch of silence, "or are we losing height?" Clara looked down and saw deep green mountains and lakes, coppery in the sunset. The landscape seemed to grow larger and more detailed as she squinted over the side of the dragon, and she wondered whether it had divined the presence of fresh water by the flashes of reflected sunlight. Lower and lower the dragon flew, in great spiraling circles, honing in, it seemed, upon one of the smaller lakes. Clara swore she was about to vomit. Godric, she hated flying with a passion.

"I say we jump when it gets low enough!" Harry called back to the others. "Straight into the water before it realizes we're here!" They agreed, Hermione a little faintly, and now Clara could see the dragon's wide yellow underbelly rippling in the surface of the water. "NOW!"

Clara slithered over the side of the dragon, letting her arms release from Harry's back, and plummeted feet-first toward the surface of the lake; the drop was greater than she had expected and she hit the water hard, plunging like a stone into a freezing, green, reed-filled world. The water sent shivers through her entire body as she kicked toward the surface and emerged, panting, to see enormous ripples emanating in circles from the places where everyone else had fallen. The dragon did not seem to have noticed anything; it was already fifty feet away, swooping low over the lake to scoop up water in its scarred snout. As Ron and Hermione emerged, spluttering and gasping, from the depths of the lake, the dragon flew on, its wings beating hard, and landed at last on a distant bank. Finally, Harry rose from the water just a foot from Clara and the group began swimming towards the nearby shore.