Draco wrote a story, and that muggle lady asked me if I wanted to as well. Head full of words, she has, always tapping on her writing machine. Draco says it's best to humour her, so I did. Still, she seems nice enough—gave me a digestive when I asked. Draco wrote a bit as well. You can tell which is which because his is sort of wavy and fancy.
I'm to tell you this is part of the 'Silence-verse'. Don't know what that is.
If you fancy it, tell me, all right?
After Draco and his bird came back, he and his friend Greg sat in the Common Room and ate some of Tiggy's care package. Tiggy was the best sister in law ever, and she made good sweets. Just then, a little Firstie called Jones or James or something (Jermyn, actually) ran in. He stopped in front of the two brave older chaps and said "There's a dragon."
Greg gave the little fellow a biscuit to get his strength back up and said "Course there is. In Hungary, mainly."
"No, no, a dragon on school ground. A great big one, breathing fire and all." Malfoy gave the kid a look and said "Well, where's Hagrid, then? Supposed to make sure these things happen, isn't he?"
Jones or James nodded. "Yes, but he's gone. Don't know where! Ran to tell you!"
Greg patted the lad's head and gave him another sweet. "Right clever of you, coming to get us. Not like stupid Potter and the rest." Malfoy nodded and gave the boy a Knut.
"This sounds like a job for Greg and I. You go and do your lessons. It's your hide if they aren't done when we get back." Because Malfoy sets a great store by those things, and always made the little ones do their lessons right, being a Prefect and all. ( Yes, I do, and yes, I did).
The blokes set off from the Common Room. Malfoy's bird was nearby, and she wanted to come, so he let her. Greg didn't mind. She's nice enough for a mudblo—not a Pureblood. Even if she does have a skinny arse. ( How the hell would you know? Were you looking at Granger's arse, Greg?) Not that Greg knew that. He was just saying, is all.
They went outside and walked toward the forest, even though Malfoy hates the forest because there's werewolves and those huge spiders. Greg didn't like it much, either. If he'd been meant to be outside, he would have been a sparrow or something.
Well, they'd only got a few hundred meters when they saw it. It was a big one, sitting on Hagrid's giant pumpkins and eating those awful skrewt things he kept. No great loss, that. Malfoy was looking at it with that look he gets sometimes, a sort of thinky look. His bird was doing it even harder, and wrinkling her nose, too. Maybe that look made up for her skinny bum in Malfoy's mind.( Just write the damned story, Goyle).
Greg could tell he needed to do something, because there's a time and place for things, like his Da always says, and this was a bad time for thinky looks. He stepped forward and raised his wand, trying to remember a good spell. He decided cruciating it was a bad idea and decided to stupefy it instead.
Lucky for him the dragon was sort of old. His stunning spell knocked it all acropper into the lake. By then, the firstie had got some teachers. Snape, probably. He's good at those things, Snape. And maybe Amycus. McGonagall's too old, and Tralawney's a nutter. They ran out and got a cage for it from somewhere and Owled Romania to come and get it.
By then Malfoy and his bird had stopped giving each other a look and were looking at Greg instead. "Well done' said Malfoy, and nodded. His bird, uh, did girl things and said how brave they both were. She didn't faint, though—she isn't that kind of bird. Just talked a lot and didn't even cry. Kind of weird, actually .
Then the Prophet came and took their picture, and Greg and Malfoy were heroes and all. But Greg didn't care very much. He was just happy that he and Draco had saved the day again. He still sort of missed Vince, but Vince had hated the outdoors even more than he did, so maybe it was all for the best.
Oh, and Jonah or whoever did his lessons, so Draco didn't take it out of his hide. He would have, though, because he's like that.