The Dragons of Raveana

Dragons on the Pitch

Harry stood on the edge of a precipice, his eyes locked on the churning aqua waters below him. Blinking slowly, he raised his chin and stared at the pale blue sky marred only by the fluffy clouds floating along the horizon. A warm wind tugged at his hair and rustled the long grasses growing along the cliff's edge. Inhaling the strong smell of salt, he raised a hand and shaded his emerald orbs.

Over the broiling surf, two large dragons sliced the air cleanly, wings flaring and flicking without falter. The pair circled and dipped, each movement mirrored by the other in a winding dance almost impossible to follow. Scales glittered a myriad of colours as the pair skimmed along the ocean's surface, forelegs cutting the water effortlessly. With a shrill screech, the darker shot upward, her wings beating tenaciously. Flashing long fangs, the second and smaller followed quickly. Their bodies skimmed ever closer as they circled higher, spiraling till they were mere dots against the blue sky. Then they fell, closing their wings and plummeting straight into the broiling surf only to reemerge shaking water from crest and tail.

The loud rustle of cloth caught by the wind had him turning his head. She stood beside him and stared out at the rolling waves, eyes narrowed against the light reflecting off the water. When she turned to meet his gaze, he found himself staring into glistening emeralds. Small flecks of blue rose to the surface only to be consumed by the dark green seconds later. The red skirts of her dress brushed against his pajama clad legs, making him frown.

"What's going on?" He whispered quietly, running a hand over his forehead and rubbing the lightening-bolt shaped scar absently. Her eyes drifted to the mark on his forehead, a slender hand rising as if to touch the old wound. In her fingers she held the silver flute, the metal shining under the bright sunlight. "What are you trying to tell me?"

Her gaze flicked back to his before the raised hand swung and pointed out at the dragons floating above the ocean. "They come." Raveana murmured, her voice filled with promise. Emerald orbs twinkled happily as they returned to his. Offering him a grim smile, she pushed him off the cliff.

XxXxX

Harry sat up, chest heaving as he looked into Ron's blue eyes. Running a hand over his forehead, he grimaced as his fingers brushed back his sweat dampened bangs. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath before flopping back down on his bed.

Arching a brow in question, the redhead offered Harry his glasses. "You okay?" He asked, settling himself on the edge of Harry's bed. In his hands he held a shirt, fingers rubbing the cloth absently.

Nodding, Harry sighed and accepted his glasses. Sliding them on, he stared at the canopy of his bed while organizing his thoughts. "She pushed me off a cliff." He murmured in shock, meeting Ron's gaze with something akin to amazement.

"Who did what?" Ron questioned, resting a hand on Harry's forehead. Frowning in concentration, he sat back and nodded firmly. "You're not sick." He announced with a smile, jamming the red and gold Quidditch jersey into his friend's hands.

"Thanks," Harry mumbled in confusion, looking at the uniform before groaning in understanding. "We play Slytherin today, don't we?"

"Yep, big game. So get up! We should be running some practice drills right now." Ron ordered, standing and grabbing his own uniform off his bed. He raised an eyebrow as Harry continued to lie on his bed, jersey held loosely in his hands. "Come on, Harry."

"You go ahead, I'll be down in a few minutes. We'll discuss battle tactics then." Harry stated, watching as Ron skipped from the room, Quidditch shirt draped over his shoulders. Closing his eyes again, Harry groaned and rolled over. "She pushed me off a cliff." He mumbled into his pillow, dragging red blankets over his head. Moaning softly, he locked his fingers around the edge of his pillow and thought about going back to sleep. Loud cheering from downstairs had him sitting up and rolling his eyes.