𝐎, 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃 ⎥ "He wants a fight with
a God? I'll give him one."
﹙ from stardust we came, to stardust we return ﹚
Prisoner of Azkaban - Deathly Hollows
...
𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎 means of steering; the dragon could not see where it was going, and Elara knew that if it turned sharply or rolled in midair they would find it impossible to cling onto its broad back. Nevertheless, as they climbed higher and higher, London unfurling below them like a gray-and-green map, Elara's overwhelming feeling was of gratitude for an escape that had seemed impossible.
Crouching low over the beast's neck, she clung tight to the metallic scales, and the cool breeze was soothing on her burned and blistered skin, the dragon's wings beating the air like the sails of a windmill. Behind her, whether from delight or fear she could not tell, Harry clung to her back, Ron kept swearing at the top of his voice, and Hermione seemed to be sobbing.
To think that in the past that she would have fainted at the idea of riding a dragon. The wind soared through her hair. The weightlessness she experienced with each beat of the beast's brilliant wings thrilled her greatly.
