Chapter Ten

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   To his annoyance, the trio stayed skulking around the cave entrance. Harry suspected they were hoping to soothe their wounded pride by watching him burn the moment he set foot into the beast's lair, so he did his best to ignore them and let night fall quietly around him.

Judging the time to finally be right, Harry stood and stretched out his legs and back, groaning pleasantly as his body righted itself. "Gentlemen," he said with a nod, before walking calmly into the cave.

The heat struck him like a wall of bricks, but Harry had been prepared and was now stripped down to only his tunic, all gear left with his travelling cloak, too cumbersome to be needed now. His sword was cautiously raised, heavy in his hand, and his eyes flitted to every shadow, every crevice of the rock face, straining for signs of movement.

His first clue was the hot breath that lifted his clothes and hair, and the growl that wafted on after them.

Harry was well into the cave now, thirty or forty feet from the entrance in a grand cavern. The edges of the space were only barely visible, little flickers of light coming from the dying sunshine, and then, as the creature rose, the glowing embers of its nostrils.

But Harry gave it no chance to attack. As soon as he was able to discern what was living flesh and what was stone, he searched above the illuminated mouth for the eyes, and locked his own with the beast's.

"Hey!" he shouted, his shoulders back and his voice unfazed despite the weakness in his knees. "Demon!"

He made a good show of throwing the sword, the sword Sirius had given him, had trained him with in the hopes it might save his life, into the dusty ground several feet from where he stood.

The dragon blinked, and Harry could see its dark eyes narrow. "That's it," he said, bringing both his hands up in front of him as the dragon lumbered forward a step, coming close enough that Harry became pretty certain that if this didn't work, he was going to be swallowed whole, in just one bite. "I am not your enemy."

Sirius had all kinds of animals on the farm, including a collection of rather rowdy dogs. Some people were afraid of them, but ever since he had been a small child Harry had been drawn to the pack, knowing just how to quiet them. Strong eyes, strong hands, strong words, Harry knew them all. If a stallion threatened to buck, to find its wild ways again, Harry was the one Sirius trusted to calm the beast down. If the cattle were moping, Harry knew how to stir their spirits. Even the mice listened when Harry the potter's son told them to flee.

And now here he was, standing before the biggest and meanest creature in the land, hoping it might just listen to him the way its smaller brethren did. "Good boy," Harry said softly taking a tentative step closer, not daring to even blink. "Good boy."

The dragon though was no fool; the other men had all had sharp swords after all, and twitched suddenly as he gave Harry a mighty snarl.

"HEY!" Harry barked back. "Ah! AH! No, that's not the way we do things." He splayed his fingers and raised his palms higher. "Now I know you do not wish me harm, just as I wish you no harm in return." He jerked his head back towards the mouth of the cave, but kept his eyes on the large black ones above him. "I'm not like them, I promise," he told the beast. "Shh, it's okay."

The dragon twisted it's head on its long, snake-like neck, regarding Harry with interest.

"That's it," he breathed out. "Good boy. I bet not many people have tried talking to you, have they?"

The dragon sniffed, and straightened its head again. Its lips were slightly parted, so Harry was still all too aware of the long, pointed teeth hidden within, but he hadn't found himself eaten so far, and he rallied his spirits.  

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