— CHAPTER TWENTY —
DOWN THE TRAPDOOR
I was walking alongside Harry, Hermione and Ron as we left our charms classroom, finishing the last of out end of year exams. The sun was high and the test wasn't all that bad so my mood hadn't been ruined. The only thing that was slightly irritating was my scar. It was burning and I had no idea why. I had burned like this a couple times after my encounter with Voldemort, usually in my defence against the dark arts classes, but now the pain had just suddenly started again.
"I've always heard Hogwarts' end of the year exams were frightful, but I found that rather enjoyable," Hermione said like the bookworm she was.
"Speak for yourself," Ron scoffed. His head turned in my direction and his eyes furrowed in concern as he watched me rub my scar, "All right there, Lizzy?"
"My scar," I seethed, "It keeps burning."
"It's happened before," Hermione said as more of a statement than a question.
I shook my head, "Not like this."
"Perhaps you should see the nurse," Ron recommended.
"I think it's a warning. It means dangers coming," Harry said matter-of-factly. His scar had also been hurting a bit, as he told after every DADA lesson but reportedly not as bad as mine. Harry looked right ahead, to Hagrid's hut, and his eyes lit up with realisation, "of course!" He picked up his stride as did the three of us to keep up with him.
"What is it?" Hermione asked.
"Don't you think it's a bit odd that what Hagrid wants more than anything is a dragon, and a stranger shows up and just happens to have one?" Harry points out and the more I think about it, the more it begins to make sense. When Harry and I first met the friendly half-giant, he had told us about how he'd always dreamt of owning a dragon and all of a sudden, someone shows up out of the blue, offering him a dragons egg. That doesn't just happen, dragon eggs are rare.
"I see what you mean," I agreed, "I mean, how many people wander around with dragon eggs in their pockets?" Harry gave me a look as if to say 'exactly' and strutted right up to Hagrid.
"Hagrid! Who gave you that dragon egg?" Harry demanded with me by his side, Hermione and Ron just staying behind a bit, still a bit lost.
Hagrid stopped playing his flute to answer us, "I don't know. I never saw his face. He kept his hood up."
"The stranger, though," I urged, "you and he must have talked."
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THE CHOSEN ONES | hp universe {one}
FanfictionElizabeth Potter, the girl who lived. Harry Potter, the boy who lived. Facing Voldemort again. - t. 1991 ~ 1992 (PS era) - Started: 2/11/20 Completed: 7/2/21 - I only own Elizabeth Potter, that is all.