Blackout

Disclaimer/Plot/Author's Note: SEE FIRST CHAPTER

Dedication: I'd like to dedicate this story to my friends, fans and fellow Darksiders: my recommended reads are Harry Potter and the Revival of Soul Magic, Harry Potter: Birth of Technomancy and The Court of Shadows by AlphaPheonix, When the Thunder Breaks by WeLonelyOldSouls, The Downward Spiral Saga by BolshevikMuppet99, Damaged Raven and Dark Lord Potter by JustBored21, Harry Is A Dragon, And That's Okay by Saphroneth, Harry Potter and The Ashes of Chaos by ACI100, The Dark Lord Peverell-Slytherin by Ares Peverell-Slytherin, Yield to the Darkness and Just A Touch of Kleptomania by Quatermass, Dark Lord Potter by loverofeevee and Path to Power by sirius009

Key Pairing: Harry/Harem

Other Pairings: To be determined

Normal Speech

'Thoughts'

'Mental Speech'

/Parseltongue/

Review Answers:

The Deck Master: Would you believe me if I said I didn't?

WhiteElfElder: And what about Percy's mental traumas? I'd say he's probably going to learn his lesson and, if not, have a nice little reminder waiting in his nightmares for nigh-on forever, don't you?

Chaos Snow Kitsune: You're not alone there, my friend

Yugi the Godfather of Games: Ha! Even I didn't realise that until I read your review and looked back…thanks for the laughs

JustBored21: Admittedly, I'm starting to get into the plot more and more with this story and, as always, I have your amazing work to refer to if I need some inspiration, so, again, a thanks for that…oh, and trust me, this coming chapter actually took some thought, but I hope it's just as good as you've enjoyed others so far

"Minerva, would you and Hagrid kindly take Mrs Weasley to the Hospital Wing? I think she is going to need medical treatment."

"And then I'm going to need a lawyer," drawled Harry, looking to Quirrell with a hard, firm stare that seemed to drill through Quirrell's skull.

"I don't suppose you'd do us a favour and recommend someone to help defend me, should I actually need them, do you, Professor?"

Chapter 8: I Fought the Law (And the Law Won!)

"Where's a tennis ball when we need it?"

As much as she agreed with her beloved's remark, Lavender still laughed as the two of them sat alone in the Headmaster's Office, while they waited for Albus Dumbledore and the rest of his sheep to make their calls and retrieve the aid of the so-called authorities.

Then again, after nearly killing a nuisance whose voice still rang in his ears as he waited in the otherwise-quiet office, Harry shouldn't really be surprised, and he wasn't.

Of course, nobody, but Harry and Lavender knew that Harry was retrieving some aid of his own, thanks to Professor Quirrell, who understood the underlying message of Harry's request for a lawyer. And yet, Harry wondered exactly who the not-stammering Professor with the dark streak as long as Harry's own would bring to the table to defend Harry and ensure things went as he wanted them to.

In the meantime, Harry drummed his fingers impatiently on Dumbledore's desk as he mused, "Here we are in lockdown and they don't even give us something to pass the time. I thought Agatha was a no-brained bint, but this lot make her seem like a genius."

"How is old Aga anyway?" asked Lavender, watching as Harry rose up from his seat and began walking around the room, while Lavender asked him, "Did you give her daughter the release yet?"

"Nope."

"Did you give them a hint on how to bring her out of the coma?"

"And spoil my fun? Why would I ever do something so boring, Lavender?"

"So, she's still suffering?"

"Yep," drawled Harry, stopping next to a cabinet that was filled with an array of mysterious instruments and knickknacks, while he added, "And so is Aggie, but I digress: have you seen this collection, Lavender? The guy makes ravens seem sane with their shiny-things-obsessions!"

"Magpies, my love."

"Huh?" asked Harry, running a hand over the door of the cabinet as he searched for the means to open the cabinet.

"You mean magpies," said Lavender, smiling thinly as she saw Harry search for the means to invade the old bastard's privacy as the aforementioned old King of Freaks seemed intent on letting his sheep do to her Harry. "They're the ones that like shiny things."

"Oh," said Harry, before he smiled when he heard a click, "So, what do ravens like?"

"Carrion."

"I think I shall," laughed Harry, opening the cabinet before he picked up the first object, which seemed to be made of crystal, "Aww, how sweet…how well-formed…and how…whoops."

To Lavender's amusement, Harry's lightning suddenly caused the crystal object in his hands to explode, earning a soft giggle from Lavender as she asked, "How delicate?"

"I was going to say expensive-looking, but yeah," said Harry, letting the shards fall to the floor before he scoffed, "Seriously, not even an enchantment to keep wandering hands out: this guy would be the kleptos' idea of nirvana, you know?"

"You should put those pieces back soon, young man."

"Who said that?" asked Harry, turning to face the room, but the only thing he saw was Lavender, as well as the desk, a red-feathered bird on the far side of said desk and the Sorting Hat, the sight of which made Harry scoff as he asked, "I'm sorry, you old dust-cloth: did you actually just try and tell me what to do? Didn't you remember why you gave me my wish and sent me to Gryffindor in the first place?"

"It…it wasn't me, Mr Potter," said the hat, nervousness and fear evident in his voice as he added, "It…it was one of them."

His tip gestured upwards as he said the last part, causing Harry's eyes to wander upwards to the walls above the old man's desk, which allowed him to see a small rogues' gallery of differently-looking men and women in portraits looking down at him with judgmental, alarmed and, in a couple of cases, even amused and curious gazes.

"Hmm…let me guess…former Headmasters and Headmistresses," said Harry; it wasn't a question, though the portraits' occupants still nodded and chorused the positive in their responses, earning a scoff from Harry as he added, "Well, as nice as it is to meet you, I don't think, unless you're alive and members of my family, not to mention accepted by me as such, I suggest you paint a zipper over your mouths and then close it up. After all…"

To the horror of many of the portraits' occupants, Harry's hands lit up with his reddish-black lightning again as he told them, "Your parchments and wooden, painted to look metallic-gold frames are so flammable or conductive to electricity these days…I'd hate to accidentally misfire my bolts and leave nothing but ashes…"

As many of the occupants retreated into their portraits, Harry adopted a look of feigned realisation as he added, "Oh wait…no I wouldn't."

Before any of the portraits' occupants could say another word, Harry threw his lightning at the gallery, incinerating wood, golden-metal, as well as the parchments and canvasses that the portraits had been painted onto. To his dark, twisted sense of delight, the portraits' occupants also began screaming in pain, agony and pleading for him to stop, not that he listened.

Instead, once he'd taken out many of the portraits, Harry's eyes wandered over the rest of them as he told them, "Let that be a lesson to you, sirs and madams: don't get in my way and, next time, keep your eyes open and your mouths shut."

"Harry, what have you done?"

"And now, ladies and gents, this is the moment you've been waiting for," drawled Harry, moving away from the cabinet of odds-and-ends as he took a seat in the golden throne of the Headmaster, much to Lavender's amusement, as she too rose up and moved to stand behind said throne, like a faithful ally shadowing her king, as the two of them saw Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall and Filius Flitwick walk into the room.

With them, Harry found himself looking at a tall, dull-looking redheaded male who seemed somewhere between alarmed and even disbelieving at what he was seeing, as well as a stern-faced lady with dark-brown hair and fierce, hazel-coloured eyes, one of which was covered by a monocle, not to mention two other figures, one of whom couldn't have been that much older than Harry himself.

She was a somewhat-attractive young lady with – and Harry had to blink and rub his eyes to check he wasn't seeing things – bubblegum-pink hair and wide, awed, but also alarmed grey eyes that looked at Harry as though she was looking at someone whom was long since dead. With her was a heavily-scarred man whom had one eye replaced by a prosthetic eye, which whizzed about in its socket as the man stepped into the room with the aid of a large staff and a metallic leg, the sight of which made Harry snort to himself as he could only wonder how the frighteningly-interesting-looking man had lost both his leg and his eye.

Finally, Harry's lips twitched in amused curiosity when he saw a blonde-haired gentleman whom could have been described as an older version of a certain Slytherin he knew and hadn't really gotten involved with, walk into the room before he walked around the desk and, stopping on Harry's other side, the gentleman cocked an eyebrow as he eyed Harry.

"Extraordinary."

"And quite comfortable too," drawled Harry, earning a soft titter from the pink-haired girl, the sound of which made Harry smile, even as he nodded once with a look of realisation, "Oh, you mean I'm extraordinary? Well, I appreciate the compliment, Mr Malfoy."

"You know me, Mr Potter?"

"No, but thank you for confirming it," said Harry, straightening himself in the golden throne before he looked back to the small group of other companions as he asked, "So, I'm assuming the redhead is related to that loud-mouthed bitch who burned way too easily, but what about the rest of you? For example, who is this very interesting-looking gentleman who seems to have more scars than me? I never would have thought that was even remotely-possible, would you, Lavender?"

"Not after everything you went through growing up, my love," agreed Lavender, just as they both heard Dumbledore clear his throat.

"Harry, would you mind leaving my seat? My old bones…"

"Can probably manage a good armchair, Albus, old chap," drawled Harry, indicating the headmaster as he added, "And if you can't find one, then just conjure one: you are still a wizard, aren't you?"

Even as Dumbledore resigned himself to doing as Harry suggested, the young wizard snorted in amused liking when a familiar ghostly wail suddenly filled the room; as everyone looked up to the rafters of the office, they saw Hela, Harry's familiar, fly down and perch herself on the arm of the throne, where Harry began petting her fondly, even as he cocked his head to one side.

"Really? Is that right? Wow…he sounds like a real badass…just a shame that this old fart leashes and collars him…"

"Who are you talking to, Harry?" asked the pink-haired girl, earning a small smile from Harry.

"My familiar, Miss…and thank you for at least showing you know me, even though I don't know you; of course, you can still go ahead and call me whatever you want."

When he winked at her, the girl surprised him when her hair turned an embarrassed shade of red, while her cheeks also blushed, earning a raised eyebrow and a low whistle from Harry, "Wow, that's a neat trick."

"Professional, Nymphadora!" growled the man who'd attracted Harry's attention more than any of the others.

As soon as he did so, however, Harry saw the girl's red hair darken in colour while her eyes seemed to harden and glow a furious shade of amber-yellow in their sockets as she hissed, "Don't call me Nymphadora, Mad-Eye!"

"Then how about just Nymph, beautiful lady?" asked Harry, earning another sudden blush from the woman with a name she apparently hated, even as Harry asked, "You don't mind that name, do you? It is the name of a magical spirit, after all and, with such an amazing gift and those beautiful looks, you may as well have been sent by Hecate herself."

"Harry…"

"Now, now, Harry, play nicely," drawled Lavender, earning a soft smirk from Mr Malfoy, even as she looked to the blushing Nymphadora before she added, "Sorry about him, Miss Dora; when he sees someone he likes, he's like a fox that becomes a wolf when he sees a vixen."

"And, to think, I'm only eleven," remarked Harry, earning a look of mutual agreement from Lavender, even as the emerald-eyed scion looked back to Dumbledore as he asked, "So, I now know the spiritually-enchanting Miss Nymph, as well as her boss, Mad-Eye Moody…wow, talk about a bad name. Your parents must really have hated you: I mean, what did the teachers call out? Moody Mad-Eye?"

"This is Alastor Moody, Harry," said Albus, earning a scoff from Harry.

"Not as funny as Mad-Eye…but I do know that, you old bastard; my beautiful friend here told me everything I need to know: for example, I also know that's Amelia Bones, Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and this is Arthur Weasley, the poor, unfortunate soul who has to call that banshee his wife and the stick-up-his-own-ass his son…ah well, be proud, sir: you have at least one other decent kid, and two yummy looking souls as twins."

"What do you mean your friend told you about everyone?" asked Minerva suddenly, earning a sigh from Harry.

"Well, McGuinness…ha, McGuinness…that's a fun name, but I digress…well, McGaga, as you know from my explanation to the other loud-mouth who got herself involved in my business, my bird's my familiar and as unique as I am."

"I'll say," added Moody, earning a curious look from Harry, even as the deformed man indicated Hela as he told everyone else, "I never thought I would ever see another Gyrphoenix, since they're supposed to be extinct."

"A gyrphoenix?" asked Harry, a note of interest and curiosity in his voice as he asked, "Is that anything like a gyrfalcon?"

"Similar," agreed Moody, earning a raised eyebrow from Harry as the elder man told him, "Just as gyrfalcons are members of the falcon species, gyrphoenixes are a…well, let's call them a bastardised, mutated version of the phoenixes: unlike phoenixes, gyrphoenixes are creatures of death!"

"Death?" asked Lavender, earning an intrigued look from Harry, even as Lavender oohed in interest as she told Moody, "Tell us more, Mad-Eye!"

"Not now," said Mad-Eye, looking back to Harry as he added, "We have more important things to deal with, such as your assault on both a student of this school, as well as your willingly-dangerous and with intent to execute, assault on a guest of the school."

"Actually, Mr Moody," said Mr Malfoy, putting his two Knuts in as he explained, "According to testimonies provided by both the Headmaster's colleagues and some reliable sources who, for legal reasons, cannot be named or asked to give such evidence…"

"His son," whispered Harry, earning a nod from Lavender as Mr Malfoy – or Lucius, as Harry later learned – continued.

"Mr Potter's so-called assault on the noble Lady Weasley was an act of self-defence and retaliation to an attack from her on a minor whom is also the Last Scion of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter."

"She was washing his mouth out!" exclaimed McGonagall, earning a curious look from Lucius.

"And is that the normal way of Hogwarts to allow such wanton attacks on students who aren't even related to them, or known to them?" asked the blonde, earning a look of mutual agreement from the Nymph-woman, as though she actually agreed and sympathised with Harry's moves, as well as Lucius' argument, even as the blonde indicated Harry before he went on. "Also, when young Mr Potter defended his honour and questioned the fact that such an attack came without argument or cessation or any form of defence from the faculty, whose job it is to protect the students, as I'm sure we all know, he was met with more vileness that then turned on a dear friend of his whom, sources say, is as close to Mr Potter as though she were his betrothed."

"Which she is," said Harry, earning a shocked look from Lavender, which made the young boy smile as he told her, "Sorry, my poison ivy: I was going to see about getting you a ring first before springing it on you, but, ever since I realised I might lose you, I always made a promise that, if we ever met again, I'd make you my girl. That way, no-one could take you from me…so…when I found you again here at Hogwarts…"

"Yes, yes, yes, a million times, yes!" squealed Lavender, earning a small smile from the Nymph woman that, even as Lavender hugged Harry close, the emerald-eyed scion also noted a hint of jealousy in the Nymph-woman's eyes that caused her hair to become edged by green highlights.

Embracing Lavender, Harry leaned in close as he whispered, "Play along…but I do mean this: it was actually Hela who told me that announcing you my betrothed would protect you…and since Old Man Winter wants me here…well, you can't have Jekyll without Hyde."

"I don't care your reasons, my love," argued Lavender, placing a soft kiss on Harry's cheek as she whispered, "I will be yours, whenever you wish to give it to me, gladly."

"That's my girl," agreed Harry, parting from Lavender, who seemed content to sit in Harry's lap, much to Nymphadora's amusement and mild envy, even as Harry looked to Lucius before he added, "Sorry about the PDA, Mr Malfoy, but, as I told this lot yesterday, my Lavender and I grew up together where the only ones we could trust and rely on were each other. What else could I do for such a loyal companion, but offer to make her mine come the day?"

"No apologies, necessary, Mr Potter," agreed Lucius, nodding once as he told Harry, "And may I be the first to congratulate you on your betrothal: now, as such, it would seem your defence of Miss Brown's honour is justified as, being her betrothed, it falls to you to avenge all slurs against her."

"But it wasn't even a magical one!"

"A slur is a slur," said Harry, looking to Minerva as he added, "Just be glad that electrocuting the banshee was all I did, McGrim; were we around some friends of mine, she'd be hung, drawn and quartered, tortured seven ways from Sunday and left to dehydrate in a room with no water and direct sunlight exposure."

"Just for insulting your betrothed?" gasped the redheaded gentleman, earning a scoff from Harry.

"Of course not, sir…that crime would warrant her imprisonment; kind of helps that, among my friends, I'm basically the equivalent of…well, let's just say it'd be interesting to see how someone like Lord Voldemort might treat a favoured son and his heir."

While everyone flinched at the name – save Harry, Lavender and Dumbledore – even Lucius smirked amusingly when he heard Nymphadora address Harry, "What sort of life were you raised in, Harry?"

"The kind where I learned a valuable lesson about myself, lovely Nymph," said Harry, earning another blush from Nymphadora as he explained, "Be all you can be, whatever the cost and no matter the thoughts of others: anyone who doesn't like it, make them remember you. Any that continue to be a pain…well, that's when you'd need chains, swords and the right to release them from this life, once you've made them suffer, made them beg for death…then, you grant their wish!"

"Sweet Merlin!" gasped Mr Weasley, a note of horror in his voice as he asked, "What…what on Earth happened to you, Harry?"

"Unless you want to find out first-hand, Mr Weasley, kindly stop using my name as though we're friends or you're my Father," hissed Harry, earning an alarmed look from Mr Weasley, while Harry straightened himself in his throne as he went on. "Now, since we seem to be reaching the end of this intervention, and my counsel, Mr Malfoy, has given you a pretty strong case about my intentions, I'd say we're done here. So, if you'll all excuse me, Lavender and I have got so-called lessons to go to, power to gain, idiots to punish and, oh yes, deaths to try and give me a reason to cause when I release them from this life, so…ciao."

"I…I'm afraid we are not done, Mr…Mr Potter," gasped Amelia, speaking for the first time since walking into the room; however, with how pale her face had gone as Harry argued his case and Lucius painted the image of self-defence and logical actions that he was known for doing whenever a friend of his was put in the spotlight, though the question of why he felt compelled to defend Harry Potter was one that both alarmed and unnerved her, even as she addressed the boy directly. "As…as this is…is your third offence of…of attacking a member of Hogwarts, after…after the reported attacks on Percy Weasley and Professor Severus Snape…"

"Both of which were perfectly-justified, Director," argued Harry, shrugging ruefully as he remarked, "One annoyed me because he wanted me to be someone I wasn't, namely my dead Father, and another made the mistake of insulting my betrothed."

"You could have killed him by dropping him off the end of the Grand Staircase!"

"Ah, but I didn't, because I knew Albus here wouldn't allow his sheep to be sheared and defrocked this early in the game," argued Harry, snorting in amusement as he added, "Honestly, I'm broken and scarred, not as insane as some of the dark-natured people I've heard about…though I wouldn't mind meeting them, especially the deliciously-dark-and-devilish-sounding lady Bellatrix Lestrange! She sounds like a real hottie!"

"Harry! Do you know what you're saying?"

"Maybe, maybe not," said Harry, ignoring the horrified looks all round – save for Lucius and, surprisingly, Nymphadora – as he shrugged ruefully before he continued, "Either way, I knew what I was doing and, besides, doing what I did to Mr Weasley paid off."

"How?"

"It showed everyone what would happen if you got in my way," said Harry, sniffing once before he looked to Lavender as he added, "Rule Three."

"What? I don't…oh!" gasped Lavender, smiling, as though the Knut had dropped again, while Harry nodded in agreement.

"Rule Three?" asked Moody, earning a nod from Harry.

"A series of rules…well, I'd more call them guidelines, anyway, but they're a series of terms and conditions made to guide us as we enjoy the relationship between me and my girl: Rule One, as much as she loves being the bottom in our relationship, my Lavender can only call me her Master when I let her. Rule Two: Death should be a release, not a punishment, so, no matter how much she pisses me off, whenever she can, she can rest assured I won't kill her for doing it."

"Sweet merciful Morgana!" gasped Filius, earning another nod from Harry, even as the Charms Master asked, "And…Rule Three, Mr Potter?"

"A means of fulfilling our objectives, both with each other and in general," said Harry, tapping his nose as he smiled wolfishly before he added, "As well as the only real rules I listen to, thanks to how I was raised…and we all know who I have to thank for that, don't we, Albus, my boy?"

While every head, including Malfoy's, turned to look at Dumbledore, Harry held up one hand as he continued in an amused, but also-clear tone;

"And that third rule is that, in life, and all things, there are only four rules you need to remember: make the plan, execute the plan, expect the plan to go off the rails…throw away the plan!"

He held up one finger, as well as his thumb, as he went through his four-rule Rule Three, before he lowered his hand again as he explained, "And, trust me, I did make a plan and execute it, both when I came to Hogwarts to make a name for myself and get sorted into Gryffindor House. However, when people constantly decided they had the right to get involved in my life, stick their noses in my business, upset those I consider my nearest and dearest and make me out to be someone and something I didn't want to be…well, that was the plan going off the rails."

"So, doing what he did to Percy, as well as Snape, and even the poor, unfortunate Mrs Weasley was him throwing away the plan," finished Lavender, earning a nod from Harry as he looked to a white-faced Dumbledore.

"I told you I was willing to come and be the student, which was also my way of saying I was willing to play ball, but, thanks to your bleating sheep and your fucked-up ideals, those plans were scrapped…so, if you want someone to blame for what happened, Director and Mr Weasley, look no further than Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore!"

"Regardless!" insisted Amelia, earning a shocked look from Harry at how harsh and yet determined she still sounded, even as she continued addressing Harry, "The fact of the matter is you have done this, Mr Potter and, despite your fame, which you yourself have clearly shown us you do not care about, even you cannot get away with what you did."

"Ah…forgot about that," said Harry, looking to Lucius as he added, "Maybe I should have just pleaded the fifth, eh, Mr Malfoy?"

"Not so, Mr Potter," replied Lucius, folding his arms as he drew himself to his full height as he went on, "Because, in lieu of imprisonment or expulsion from this school…"

"Which, let me guess, he pushed for not happening?" asked Harry, jabbing a thumb at Dumbledore.

"Actually, we all agreed that was not the best course of action for one as young as you in such a…vulnerable condition," argued Lucius, though, when Harry looked up to him, he nodded once, as though encouraging the boy to play along, while he continued, "As such, I not only involved myself as your legal counsel, but also as Chief Operations Officer on the Hogwarts Board of Governors to come up with what I hope will be a suitable alternative, as well as a means of avoiding future conflicts."

"I'm listening."

"You will retain your place as a student of Gryffindor House, both you and Miss Brown," said Lucius, earning a nod from Harry, even as the blonde went on. "However, the two of you shall be given new quarters in another part of the school, where, outside of lessons and, in accordance with the ban from competing in extracurricular activities set down by Headmaster Dumbledore, for the foreseeable future, you will be given a house-guard, assigned by the school and the Ministry, whom is to ensure no further squabbles, accidental outbursts or potentially-damaging incidents occur. To ensure this, this same Auror, and it will be an Auror, will make weekly reports to Director Bones and the Board. Then, if you are found to be a character capable of redemption, next year, when you take your second-year classes, we shall debate on whether you are to be allowed your privileges back or if you are to be permanently kept under house arrest in your dormitory."

"You see?" asked Harry, surprising everyone, bar Lavender, at how he wasn't even intimidated by the punishment, "Solitary Confinement and Loss of Privileges: now, you're starting to think like my home away from home. Well done, you."

"Potter, be serious!"

"Funny, I thought my name was Harry," drawled Harry, earning a titter from Lavender while even Nymphadora snorted into her hand, though, when she did so, Harry smiled as he asked, "All right, I agree to that…but on one condition of my own."

"You don't make the rules now, Harry."

"Oh, but it's such a small thing I ask for," argued Harry, a note of disappointment in his voice as he explained, "And besides, you do want me to go back to being a good boy again, don't you, Headmaster? So you can give just one teeny-tiny, incy-wincy request, can't you?"

"No!" snapped McGonagall.

"I wasn't talking to you, McGoat's-Milk!"

"It's all right, Minerva," replied Amelia, looking to Harry with a stern glare that might have made lesser men cower, but not Harry, even as she told him, "All right, Mr Potter; we will grant your request, whatever it may be, but only if you stop with these insulting nicknames aimed at your teachers."

"Only if they respect me for the student I am and not the one they want me to be, ma'am."

"Agreed."

"Deal."

"Then, what is it you want?"

"Like I said, it's a small thing," said Harry, lifting a finger before he winked in the direction of his request, which made that particular person gasp, even as Harry pointed to them and made his request known.

"My house-guard: I want the lovely Nymph to be responsible for making sure I toe the line and don't kill anyone too quickly…see? Told you it was a small thing."

Chapter 8 and, wow, talk about a weird turn of events: nobody wants Harry expelled – then again, Magical Britain are a bunch of idiots who think the world will end if Harry Potter isn't there to pull their asses out of the fire – and, instead, it looks like our hero is being given his last-last chance, but not before he gives them terms: will they agree?

Also, will Harry be a good boy or is this just a case of the sleeping dragon being put back to sleep long enough for the little lion cub to grow up, find his fangs and claws and make some new trouble when the time is right?

Keep Reading to Find Out

Next Chapter: Harry and Lavender explore their new/temporary dormitory while Harry somewhat-reluctantly makes his peace with his peers: however, when his house-punishment gives him an added task before he can really begin 'redeeming' himself, it tests his resolve and leaves the sleeping dragon snarling…uh-oh, is it about to be tickled again?

Please Read and Review

AN: Portrayal

Amelia Bones: Jemma Redgrave