i don't have a title for this yet

chapter 1 i guess

The scream is what snaps me out of my furious stupor.

What has Snow gotten himself into this time? Is my first thought, yet before I know it, I'm rushing out into the hallway despite my cynicism. It's bloody ridiculous, is what it is. Barely ten minutes prior, I was fuming at Snow for an upsettingly large amount of things, ranging from the fact that he was arrogant enough to think he could burst into my personal life and somehow resolve the fact that my mother is dead, to the fact that he was arrogant enough to think he could comfort me about it. And still (here's the bloody ridiculous part), I sprint out the building at the first disgustingly innocent shriek all because it makes me think that Snow's righteous self might get caught in the crossfire. And he will, I know. No matter what. He attracts danger more than he attracts other magicians. (I guess that's why I find him so attractive. I'm the undead lovechild of danger and magic.) So here I am now, stood atop the ramparts, looking upon Snow, the complete wanker, flailing around with his sword stuck in the neck of a dragon.

~~~

Now, I knew that Simon Snow was sword-crazy, but I truly didn't think it was this bad. Everyone knows dragons that aren't inherently dark creatures--it's one of their most basic qualities. Most people don't necessarily respect them like my family does, but they at least know not to slay them unless absolutely necessary. I guess most civilians would consider a dragon in a position to kill students one of those situations, but at least I know better. It only takes me a matter of seconds to figure out that it must be being controlled by something else, and that that something else is most likely the Humdrum. Now, despite all of this, Snow has his sword wedged in underneath the creature's jaw, and is either trying to take it out or just twist it in the wound. Whatever he's doing, it doesn't seem to be working. Shaking my head, I start up a jog again, increasing my pace as the urgency of saving this creature sets in. I cast a Hear ye, hear ye and begin to shout.

"Simon, don't hurt it!" I see him reel his head back a bit in confusion but soon resume playing with his lethal weapon after the one glorious second he spent actually listening to me. I press on. "Simon! Wait! They're not dark creatures!" I feel the adrenaline increasing as I further take in the scene around me. There are some students running towards the middle of the disaster, then slowing, unsure of what to do, and others simply staring in awe. It must be the byproduct of a classic Snow spell gone wrong. So, naturally, Penelope Bunce is desperately throwing spells on them to remove their attention from the ghastly spectacle in the centre of the picture: Simon Snow, trying to murder a dragon.

She's a beauty, scales ranging from dark maroon to fiery crimson, glinting in the midday sun. Her wings are flapping about in a frenzy, thankfully throwing off Snow's concentration, but her eyes are what make me run quicker. You can practically feel the fear radiating from them as strongly as Simon's oppressive magic, which is attempting to push me back in hot, intoxicating waves. I furrow my brow and cast a Float like a butterfly as I will myself to cross the moat, as I will myself to save this breathtaking, powerful creature, to save the fiery, beautiful git who is either about to kill her or be killed by her.

For a moment, both Simon and the dragon are lulled mid-air, following me with their eyes and heads, until I hit the ground again running. If we weren't all in mortal danger, I'd smirk at Snow. His mouth is hanging open. I'm almost to where the dragon is floating not too far above the grass, and I finally come to a halt, taking up a confident casting stance and shooting my wand out in front of me.

"Baz!" I hear being called from above. "No! You're flammable!" You've got to be kidding me.

"So is everything!" I retort, before beginning my spell, covering up my deathly fear with impeccable elocution.

"Baz!" I ignore him, and do the best think I can think of.

I try to bring the dragon home.