The Dark Lord's Literary Appreciation Society

Chapter 19: Norbert(a) the Norwegian Ridgeback

Chapter 19: Norbert(a) the Norwegian Ridgeback ..... aka Rowling misgenders a dragon

Eventually, everyone regrouped in the main hall of Slytherin castle with all the other Death Eaters scattered throughout the room on sofas and armchairs. Harry didn't want to be there any longer. He wanted to settle into the library and spend the time worrying about the trial. He knew what he had to do, he knew who would help him do it, but he also knew it was going to be a difficult, long day, and that there was a better than average chance he'd end up face to face with Dumbledore. He just wanted it all to be over. He wanted to be facing nothing more dramatic than Malfoy's temper tantrums, which really were more amusing than they were threatening. He also wanted, and he blushed slightly at the thought, to settle into a cozy corner and thoroughly examine the unsettling feelings he had for the Dark Lord.

The man, when in his right face and not the odd snake-like thing he had going on at the moment, pushed all his buttons, especially the ones he had only just discovered last school year. He wasn't completely sure he was old enough to be thinking about what he was thinking about, but that didn't stop his brain from taking utterly ridiculous turns in his imagination. He had reminded his imagination over and over that he was only just fifteen, and no self-respecting dark lord in control of a horde of Death Eaters would be interested sexually or romantically in a fifteen year old nobody with more issues than Life magazine.

But, his fantasy-prone mind had argued back, everybody was entitled to a little dream from time to time, as long as no one found out about his crush, no harm, no foul.

If only Sirius couldn't read him like a book. A picture book, at that.

Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback

When the group heard the title, Harry could tell he'd be told off more than once during this chapter, and he let out a small groan. His head landed in his hands as both Corvinus and Sirius looked at him in concern.

"What? Why is there reference to a dragon?"

"What would a dragon be doing at Hogwarts?"

"Well, it is the motto, you know."

"Well yes, but that was centuries ago. There shouldn't be dragons around children." An outraged female voice had offered that last one, and Harry glanced up from where he was bargaining with the gods to get the earth to swallow him whole. He couldn't tell who had said it, but it looked like everyone else agreed. He frowned at the entire group, but in particular those from the ministry. "Right," he spoke sharply, his jaw tight. "Only it's fine when the children are fourteen years old, and are forced into death contests with adults who are barely seventeen themselves, and facing down fully grown nesting mothers?" Harry looked around, spitting mad at the entire lot of them. "I wasn't happy being forced into that contest," his glance fell on Corvinus, who looked down at his hands. "I wasn't happy to have my entire school turn against me," he glanced around at those he knew from Hogwarts. "I really wasn't happy when the adults who were supposed to protect me, all but abandoned me to the cruelty of my classmates and the dangers of the competition." Here Snape also shuffled his feet. "But do you want to know what really pissed me off about last year? No one. Not one single person paused to consider the morality of watching teenagers pointlessly risk their lives in a contest that had already been shut down once because of the death count purely for the sake of entertainment . Talk about exploitation!"

One of the ministry idiots tried to get to his feet and defend the Tournament. "It was intended to foster international magical cooper—ah," his voice trailed away under the glare of Harry's stare and he slipped back into his seat.

"Right," Harry looked around and shook his head at the lot of them. "International magical cooperation," he mocked. "Did it ever occur to any of you that you could've just hosted an inter-school quidditch tournament, instead? Or, encourage a pen-friend program, or subsidize a study exchange, or perhaps even host a multi-school faire or fete or something. Almost anything else would have done the job without the fear of death and dismemberment."