Dragons at Hogwarts

Chapter 43

I didn't tell anyone about my dream, though I couldn't stop thinking about it. That hunted man... His face struck a chord in my memory, but I couldn't remember where I'd seen him before. It was intensely annoying.

I was sitting in a chair in Gryffindor tower, a frown on my face, racking my memory, when Ron walked in. I hadn't been spending much time with him, because of researching for the case, on top of the ever-present load of schoolwork. Guilt shadowed my features.

Ron walked straight past me toward the boys bedroom, deep in thought about something or other.

I sighed. I needed a break from guilt.  And it was late.

I stood slowly, stretching out the kinks in my arms. The stair to the bedrooms wern't  that far away. The fire in the grate spread orange light across the room, flickering and sweeping shadows away. I like fire. It's comforting, and I haven't summoned it for some time. I wandered toward the stairs, my mind on fire, and climbed slowly, shivering as the light and warmth from the fire faded away. 

It was dark in the stairwell. The shadows seemed black as the sky in winter, but without the comfort of the stars. I don't like the dark. Not sure why, but... It unnerves me. That's why I stayed in London, where the orange streetlights keep the night at bay. And the stars away, sadly. I've always liked the stars.

I felt my wings shift slightly ready to fly, an automatic reaction to my fear. I frowned. I should stop being so childish. Shadows are shadows are shadows. They're dark.  No monsters.

But still...

I banished the thought from my head, and kept on climbing till I reached the door, then headed to the window and sat on the ledge, my feet dangling outside the tower.

Full moon tonight. I imagined Lupin, all furry and in his office.

I kicked off, and soared into the night, wings outstretched. 

The moonlight painted a silver edge to the castle I now knew well, but the night was cold, and winter was approaching. As was Christmas. It will be nice to get presents. If I get presents.  My armour curled around me, keeping me warm, and I spiralled down softly and landed on the top of the astronomy tower, looking at the view. 

I let my armour go, and was instantly chilled. I held a hand in front of my face and concentrated, thinking hard. My warm breath twisted around my hand as I blew softly, and a soft flame, like a candle, burned in my hand. I kept blowing and the blaze grew, warming me up until I was sweating and had a fireball hovering just above my palm. I laughed, and threw it into the air, watching it flare up in the breeze.

Dragonfire was different to the normal fire, the kind that burns. It burns, as hot as the other fire, but is much harder to put out and is the colour of the dragons scales. Mine was orange, light red, not the same deep colour of my scales and hair. In some accounts I read it seemed like the fire was an extension of the dragons will, and they could shape it into creatures of flame, like birds or dinosaurs. Apparently Phoenixes were descended from dragonfire birds. The fireball I had created swayed and guttered. I let it go out, sighing at the return of the cold. 

Running down the steep tower roof, I leaped off, letting myself fall for a few seconds, my wings slightly unfurled to control the direction of my descent, then rolled into a glide, flapping slowly to bring my self up to the window I shared with Hermione.

She was inside, reading a book on her bed, when I came through the window.

She looked up. "Nice flight?"

"Pretty good. The stars are great out here. You can barely see them in London"

"One of the perks of being so far into the country, I guess."

I smiled, and got ready for bed.