The inebriated man hiccupped as he stretched out his hand, his eyes glazed over, and said, "Three Galleons, and I'll ensure your safety." Believing they had no other choice, John and Fleur reluctantly handed over the money and grabbed the pair of old leather shoes that looked as though they had just been discarded. To avoid being separated, they held hands tightly. As soon as John touched the portkey, he felt a sharp tug at his navel, pulling him forward with an irresistible force. His feet lifted off the ground, and he was airborne. When his vision cleared, he and Fleur were plummeting down, only to fall heavily onto the ground.
John rubbed his aching back as he stood up, surveying their surroundings. "This doesn't look like any place for a Quidditch match," he observed.
"I'm going to kill that damned liar!" Fleur's usually serene face darkened with anger. The portkey had been unstable, transporting them directly into an unknown forest.
John felt a headache coming on. Without the portkey, they were stranded in the wilderness, possibly miles from civilization. "Hopefully, we can find someone to ask for directions," he mused aloud.
As they ventured deeper into the forest, Fleur's frustration grew. "I can't do this anymore. I need to rest," she declared, collapsing to the ground, abandoning any pretense of grace.
John paused, wiping the sweat from his brow. They had been walking for at least three hours, encountering neither people nor animals. He longed for his flying boots; had he known they would end up in such a forsaken place, he would have brought them along.
"Point Me," he muttered, casting a spell with his wand pointed north. They seemed to be on the right track, but progress was slow. "It's a shame I never learned to Apparate. It would save us from all this walking."
Taking a short break, John picked some harmless-looking fruits from a nearby tree and offered them to Fleur. She buried her face in her knees, her voice muffled. "I'm sorry, John. I shouldn't have dragged you into this."
Fleur's guilt was palpable. As the older of the two, she felt responsible for their predicament. John, however, bit into a fruit, grimacing at its sour taste before forcing it down, considering it might be their only source of food. "It's okay. We'll be fine. Trust me," he reassured her, trying to lift her spirits.
Fleur, who possessed a quarter Veela blood, had always been wary of her ability to enchant men, which often isolated her from both genders. Yet, with John, she felt a different kind of attraction—a trust and admiration that had nothing to do with romantic feelings. It was the kind of trust one might have in a leader, a beacon of confidence in troubling times.
"I trust you, John," Fleur said, accepting another fruit from him. She bit into it, her face contorting at the sourness, which made John chuckle.
"I didn't do anything. See, I'm eating it too," he said, feigning innocence. Fleur, half-annoyed and half-amused, contemplated throwing the fruit at him but decided against it, realizing that their survival might depend on these sour morsels.
As darkness enveloped the forest, John decided it was time to find a place to rest. He built a bonfire, and they sat around it, the warmth a small comfort in the vast, silent wilderness.
"It's strange that we haven't seen any animals in such a large forest," John mused, gazing into the flames. The night stretched out before them, filled with unknown dangers and the promise of further challenges. Yet, in that moment, they found a semblance of peace, united in their determination to overcome whatever lay ahead. In the dense expanse of the forest, teeming with magical creatures, John voiced his complaints with a curl of his lips, only to be met with an eye roll from Fleur. "Wild magical creatures are extremely dangerous," she explained. "Given their strong territorial instincts, it's likely that a powerful entity resides here, deterring other creatures from venturing too close."
John nodded in agreement, aware that magical creatures fiercely defended their territories against intruders. However, their prolonged absence in the area puzzled him. "If there was something here, shouldn't it have shown itself by now?" he pondered. The thought crossed his mind that perhaps the creature only emerged at night, just as the surrounding jungle began to stir with movement.
"What's that?" Fleur asked, a hint of nervousness in her voice. Both had their wands drawn, ready for whatever might come their way. John, realizing his pockets were empty, made a mental note. "I must learn the Untraceable Stretching Curse when we get back." This spell, akin to the space rings found in novels, could expand the interior of an object without altering its exterior, creating a vast space within.
As the rustling grew closer, John's enhanced senses, a gift from his dragon blood fusion, picked up on gasps and heavy footsteps. "A person?" he surmised, noting the sounds indicated someone injured and possibly fleeing.
Despite the potential danger, their wands remained poised for action. Suddenly, a figure emerged from the bushes—a boy around John's age, clad in a blood-colored robe that resembled a school uniform. His pale complexion and black hair, coupled with a high nose bridge and golden eyes peeking through the strands covering his left eye, momentarily made Fleur mistake him for a vampire.
The boy, taken aback by the sight of two student-like wizards, yelled, "Run!" just as a flame descended from the sky, igniting the surrounding bushes. Fleur watched in horror as a Hungarian Horntail soared above, unleashing a fiery breath.
John, stunned, thought he heard the dragon speak, a realization that dawned on him due to his affinity with dragon language. Acting quickly, he used a levitation spell to rescue the wizard from the flames. This act, however, drew the Hungarian Horntail's attention to John.
"Let's run!" Fleur exclaimed, understanding now why the area was devoid of other creatures. The Hungarian Horntail, a formidable fire dragon, ensured no other being dared to approach.
As they fled, the dragon's enraged declarations followed them. "Wizard...sneaking...attack...no honor...pain..." John glanced at the boy running beside them, bewildered by the dragon's words. The boy had audaciously attacked the sleeping dragon, even targeting its hindquarters. No wonder the Hungarian Horntail was furious. John couldn't help but think that if someone dared to invade his home while he slept, he'd ensure their departure was far from painless.
_________
If you are tired of reading I also have this converted to an audio novel on my youtube
https://www.youtube.com/@NovelAudioForge/featured
Direct Link to playlist
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f_Hg-qsW4rM&list=PLKskshYG-OcPTR4-Nw7IWFEBZm07D8pBV&ab_channel=NovelAudioForge