Okay, since the interactive comes to an end on Chapter 250, we will have to start with 3 again. So far, our protagonist, Giljaras Dragoner and his dragon Drakreanor, had gone into the portal, into Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry, shrunken into 11 year old boys (or fledgeling for Drak) to start his first year. His mission was to recruit his fellow students in his quest to save his homeland Draconia.
But you will be confused at what is going on if you haven't read the first part of the storyline, and it's kind of hard to summarize 250 chapters in a small space. I'll do my best however.
After 250 chapters, Gil's made good progress, despite a rocky start. Most of the Hogwarts gang (Harry, Ron, Hermione etc.) are now dragonriders, and he himself is living large at school. Yet as much as Gil is respected for his efforts, he is equally resented by Slytherin house, the Ministry of Magic and a host of others. Over these 250 chapters, numerous attempts were made on his life. Yet whether they ranged from Tom Riddle, Lord Voldemort, a deranged Viktor Krum, Percy Weasley (who's always hated Gil's rule-breaking ways) and Unown, Gil's always come out on top.
Hopefully, Gil can make it through this last year and a half, and let us return to Hogwarts on the last day of winter break of 6th year shall we?
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Walking up the stairs toward Gryffindor Tower, you Giljaras Dragoner, could not have been more happy that things in Hogwarts were back to normal. Everyone was still obsessing over that huge swordfight you had with Alastor Nevrick, who in fact the poor 5th year was controlled by a radio-transmitting virus titled 'Unown'.
Leblanc and Luna, being the howling Ravenclaw propagandists they were, had significantly dramitized the fight against Unown using a combination of the Quibbler and Mini-I-pod. Nowadays, Alastor was facing interrogation in Romania Weyr, and you wondered how bad Charlie was grilling him.
After how Percy had shot Leblanc with a silver bullet last year, I suspect his tolerance for anything to do with Mylandia has dropped significantly. So I'm guessing his readmission to Hogwarts will be delayed for a while.
You passed by a group of 5th years reciting what happened over and over again. "...Gil!! Your sword fighting was awesome!!" cried Colin Creevy, rushing up to your face, "You gotta teach me how to do that...twirling thing you did!!"
"It's not that hard really" you said for what seemed to be the 50th time, your dragonwings shrugging outwards. "You can learn to do it too if you practiced"
You merely walked on, (almost succumbing to using a wandless spell to shut them up) rolling your eyes. Fact was, you had plenty of practice; oftentimes with someone (usually a Mylandian or other CCEM loyalists) trying to kill you. It occured so often that it was beginning to lose its traumatic effect.
You made the rest of the trip up in relative peace, arriving at the Fat Lady's portrait as the sun set in the sky.
"Hey Gil!!" bellowed Harry, glasses blaring as he stood next to Ron, "Fat lady says there's a new password, can you have her open up for us?"
"What? Wasn't it Baubles?" you replied in exasperation, "I thought the password didn't change until first day back from break"
"But you're a prefect!!" yelled Ron, gesturing with his arms at your badge. You stared downward at the 'P' with disdain, "Don't remind me"
You had figured Dumbledore had inhaled some of Drak's powdered dragonclaw the day he had selected you as a prefect. Indeed, a year and a half as prefect had not erased your reputation as one whose sole existence was the creation of chaos, insurgency (that literally happened last year), and instability.
"So I guess that means we aren't getting in for a while right?" snarled Harry. You clenched your fists, turning to the fat lady. "Hey!! If you don't let us in, then I'll 'winged-demon' my way through!!" you threatened.
"Don't you dare attempt such a thing Giljaras!!" snarled a sharp, threatening hiss that could only belong to Hermione. You spun around to witness her with her crystal-colored wings flared outwards, and could almost sense that dangerous aura emanating out of her.
"You forgot to report to McGonagall again for the password didn't you?" she concluded; with completely accuracy. Harry and Ron sniggered when your face blanched.
"Errr...yeah" you replied.
She held out a sheet of paper, and read out, "It's Abstinence."
To your surprise, the portrait swung open.
"Precisely, though I must say it is too late for you!!" shrieked the Fat Lady. You dared not say a word as you walked into the common room.
Yet upon entering, with Harry and Ron safely upstairs, and you lounging on a couch, you couldn't help but tease Hermione about it.
"What's up with her? Kind of a strange password if you ask me" you asked, pretending to sound like this was merely just an innocent observation.
Hermione turned a beet red, "Overindulged over Christmas, drank a vat of 500 year old wine"
You were tempted to remind her that it was she who demonstrated how indulgent she could be after you both drank vials of Amortentia in Hermy's nest. Apparently, the fact she'd threatened to break the golden egg (Drak and Hermy had gone unsupervised in Romania for an entire summer) had shaken her to her senses.
"Gil!! What's so funny!!" demanded Hermione crossly.
"I'm kind of doubting that was the Fat Lady's reason for choosing the password" you snickered, leaning your body toward her.
She raised her arm and slapped you across the face. You winced as you absorbed the blow, yet that was always a sign that she wanted you.
You spent the rest of the night talking nonsense and all the sort, including the sword fight vs. Unown (you had earned three slaps by emphasizing how she had swooned after that mid-air sequence). You also spoke of school work (you had long since learned to pretend you knew half of what she was talking about), once again swore to her how Professor Vector was launching a vendetta against you, and Harry's ridiculous claims at how Malfoy was a Death Eater.
You had hardly noticed when it had reached the late-night hours, and gave her a good night kiss before going to bed.
Finally, things are back to how they should be, but for how long?
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