Day 11 - Wing
@tomarrymortmicrofics | 844 words
Harry scouted the market in search of a merchant selling healing salve. Voldemort may insist that he was a mighty dragon who didn’t need any help in grooming himself (correct) and therefore didn’t need any ‘stuff’ like salve to keep the leathery skin of his wings smooth (incorrect), but Harry had happily taken to help maintain his dragon’s appearance.
(Voldemort had actually said ‘stuff’ in such a haughty and disgusted tone, Harry had rolled around on the floor laughing, unable to breath properly and crying tears while doing so – Voldemort had been immensely salty after that)
They both knew how much Voldemort appreciated his efforts, though. He could deny it all he wanted, but the fact he’d flown out and gotten them an absurdly large mirror so he could admire his mightiness was a dead giveaway of his feelings on the matter. Harry could proudly say that Voldemort’s scales had never been shinier and his skin never smoother.
It soothed something inside Harry to take care of his dragon and he liked to listen to him tell stories about times long gone while he did so. That Voldemort had remembered to bring back all the other things Harry had requested solidified the impression that the dragon liked him as well and not just because he spoke.
However, there were things a dragon could not get its claws on. Namely, salve. And so, Harry found himself within Hogwarts’ city walls, brokering a deal with a local merchant to receive recurring deliveries in exchange for the gold Voldemort had him take from his hoard.
Harry had done the same thing already for deliveries of food, wood and other necessities. This was the last on his list and he rejoiced when the merchant finally agreed. It was no easy feat to have them bring their goods to the edge of the mountain, but as always, having a large sack of gold at hand made many a thing easier.
Harry just waited for the day someone tried to rob him. They would regret it dearly, for you see… Since the day Harry was send (forced) down the mouth into Voldemort’s hoard he has never travelled alone again. He waited for the merchant to get a barrel of salve from the back (magical bags from his dragon’s hoard where a blessing beyond belief!), when a – sadly – very familiar ‘hm-hm’ reached his ears.
Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Harry turned and looked at one Dolores Umbridge, steward of the inner ring and reason he was sent to Voldemort in the first place. “What are you doing here, eh, boy?” Umbridge yelled, because she never could simply ask, her nose in the air and her pink dress as eye searing as always, “What if the dragon is displeased because you ran away? You’ll be the dead of us all!”
Voldemort nosed his way out from underneath Harry’s hood, hissing sleepily, “Who isss thisss unpleasssant woman?” Harry ignored her enraged hollering in favor of answering, “Thisss isss Doloresss Umbridge, ssstewart of the inner ring of Hogwartsss and the reassson I wasss sssent to you. She’sss alssso a pain in the assss.” To Umbrigde, he said, “You didn’t even know the dragon’s name, so don’t pretend to know what he would want!”
Harry cursed his luck. Of course he would meet that ghastly woman the one time he came to town. No sooner had Harry’s hood fallen away, revealing the small form Voldemort was capable of taking on, did Umbridge’s voice climb higher, her screeches becoming more panicked. “Gah! A lizard! What did you bring a lizard here for, boy?! Wanted to harm some upstanding citizen, huh? Oh, just you wait, you’ll get what’s coming for you! Running away from your duty! Guards! Guards!”
Harry could tell the exact moment Voldemort had enough. One second the – truthfully lizard sized – body of Voldemort rested on his shoulders, the next he heard a faint swish and then screams echoing through the street. Voldemort’s huge head hovered next to Harry’s and, before he could say anything, a white hot breath of pure fire engulfed the woman in front of them. And because Voldemort was a drama queen and he not so secretly thrived on chaos, he stood back on his hind legs and let out an ear-splitting roar before making himself small again.
Harry shook his head, “Good job, Voldemort, really. Now everyone will be afraid and they won’t sssell usss ssshit.” Voldemort nudged his nose against Harry’s cheek. “Ah, but they will alssso know not to messs with you or yell at usss with a voice ssso ssshrill.” He added as an afterthought, “And ssshe insssulted me. I am no lizard.”
Harry chuckled, used by now to his dragon’s antics and took the barrel of salve from the frozen merchant. He even deposited a gold coin more than necessary into the man’s hands. For the inconvenience. Some might call him callous, but Harry’s life was good since he became Voldemort’s hatchling and so he whistled a soft tune and made his way home.