The Dragons of Raveana

Defending Dragons

It was an annoyed hiss that had Harry opening his eyes and sitting up, glancing in the direction of the sunbathing dragons. Scanning the slowly stirring beasts, he narrowed his eyes and nudged Draco just as the threatening hiss was repeated. Ignoring the blond's unhappy grumbles, he rose to his feet and walked toward the Mages. Both Black Lady and  Silverhawk had their shimmering eyes focused on something in the sky, their angular heads twisting and turning fluidly. Parting her jaws, the black dragon snarled and slammed her tail against the ground while arching her long neck.

A shadow raced toward him across the grass, the bulky black outline causing him to tense his shoulders and tilt his head back. Smiling grimly, he nodded his head in greeting to the wizard hovering above him. "Cooled down, have you?" He asked quietly, watching as the transparent green wall that separated them stretched tendrils of power toward the trailing end of the older wizard's dark cloak.

"Potter, Dumbledore wants to speak with you." Mad Eye Moody stated calmly, his good eye locked on the blond sprawled next to the raven-haired wizard. Tightening his grip on the broomstick he sat upon, he tipped his head in the direction of the front gates. "And Malfoy's father is here for him."

Draco sat up suddenly, the silver sheet pooling around his waist. Blue eyes widening, he clambered to his feet and barely managed to catch the sheet before it floated to the ground. "My father?" He croaked as his face paled.

Moody gave a sharp nod of his head, magic eye swirling to peer beneath him. "They're waiting for the pair of you." He said, floating higher on the broom to avoid the magic creeping slowly toward him. Tipping his head, he studied the younger wizards before shaking his head and speeding off.

"I suppose we should go and meet them," Harry murmured, turning to face Draco. Pursing his lips, he lifted a hand and brushed his fingers through his hair, only managing to rumple the already messy dark locks.

"My father." Draco repeated, wrapping the sheet artfully around his lithe body. Patting the knotted ends of the sheet to make sure they were secure, he bent over and picked up the empty wine bottle. Straightening, he allowed the bottle to dangle from his right hand while sliding his other hand over his face. "This isn't going to end well." The blond predicted.

"Probably not," Harry agreed with a heavy sigh. Without thought, he offered the blond his hand and coloured when it was taken. Clearing his throat, he tightened his grip on the cool fingers and headed toward the old manor. His shoulders tensed at the sudden clatter that began as they walked away; the crack of wings and rasp of scales as the dragons unwound themselves and fell in behind the pair.

"This probably doesn't look good." Draco mumbled, indicating the sheet he was draped in and the empty bottle of wine he still held loosely. Shaking his head, he tipped his chin up and squared his shoulders, pasting a knowing smirk on his lips as his quick gait changed to a leisurely stroll.

"Oh, it looks good, it's just not appropriate right now." Harry whispered, snickering as the blond's cheeks flushed and he tugged his hand away. Still chuckling softly, he pulled on the front of his Quidditch jersey and tried to erase the wrinkles and mud that covered the material. His attempt to repair several days' worth of damage had the blond snorting in amusement and brandishing his wand.

"You may as well leave it for the house elves. There's not a spell in my repertoire that will erase stains that bad." Draco commented, scratching at the patch of dried dirt on the back of his hand.

The pair walked around the corner of Shirestra and paused; searching the crowd gathered before the gates for the wizards they had come to see. Their appearance caused a stir among the group, raising hands and voices. Resisting the urge to turn around and walked inside, they shared a steadying look and nodded their head heads in agreement. It had to end today.