Children of the Eight Magics
By: By Archeress
Disclaimer: I own no element of Harry potter what so ever except my own personal characters. JK Rowling I LOVE your books, you and Harry Inspire me to be a better writer and Harry's just so irresistible to use. I pray you will not sue me (unless you want my socks. . . . ) and that you will know I am a devout fan and try my hardest to keep your characters IN character as much as possible.
A/N: Enjoy and READ AND RESPOND if any errors are found guys let me know because I am notorious for bad spelling and grammar errors. I hope you like it any suggestions, praise, bricks? Send me an IM at InuArcher OR You can contact me at anime_archer@yahoo.com Hope to hear for any of you!
If there was one thing that Harry really couldn't stand, it was an ice- cold hard wood floor in the morning. Lying in bed looking at his alarm clock, Harry had one minute left until the shrill annoying blast of the buzzer went off. Today he really didn't feel like listening to it, so dreading the horrible torture his feet would go through once they touched the floor, Harry turned off the alarm before it even went off and sheered himself of his covers.
Flinching he finally put his feet on the cold floor, attempting to getting them used to the chilly surface, as he did every morning was, if anything, futile. Ron had once laughed at him telling Harry he looked like Hermione when she squeamishly went swimming and tried to get used to water when it was a 'tad too cold'. Ron stopped laughing, however, when he finally put the pads of his feet down onto the icy floor, yelping as he scrambled back into bed.
Harry groaned looking at the window. Frost had covered the inside of it. Running his left hand through his mussy hair, Harry muttered incoherently about talking to his landlord.
Dashing across the room, grabbing his robe, and almost slamming himself into the bathroom door in the process, Harry made his way into the bathroom and onto the slightly warmer maroon bathroom rug. From here he balanced himself on one leg trying not to touch the cold porcelain of the toilet and reaching for the knobs to turn the water on. He did this in quite a feat of flexibility; testing his water with a finger and then turning the shower on. Harry quickly undressed and scuttled the bathroom rug over the painfully pepto-bismol pink bathroom tiles, to the edge of the shower, and hopped in. He washed his hair, and his body in general, hoping out to quite a bit warmer, sauna like bathroom. He shivered opening the door, welcomed by a blast of cold air. This was after he put his robe on, of course. The sauna like state quickly vanished leaving Harry shuddering as he dried and combed his hair, and shaved his chin. Still in not but a robe Harry scurried into the kitchen dancing on his toes switching his feet so fast it looked as though he desperately needed to go to the bathroom. Harry grabbed some bread, popped it in the toaster, put the tea on, opened the kitchen window and quickly sped back into his room to change.
Harry got dressed in his normal robes of black and green, then went about to put his socks on. Once they were on her wriggled his toes inside the cocoon of cotton that warmed his feet. Ahhh, socks! Never was there such a wonderful thing! Ever since Harry moved into this flat he never had one thing to say about Dobby and his obsession with socks. Socks were warm. Socks were comfy. Socks were grand.
Walking this time, Harry picked up his toast from the toaster and buttered it, getting out a cup and saucer for his tea, and taking out a few strips of raw steak from the refrigerator, for Hedwig once she returned from her morning flight.
Harry sat down, enjoying his buttered toast and tea. Hedwig soon flew in through the open window and hooted softly as Harry bid her good morning and gave her a bit of steak. She nipped his finger softly in her gratitude. Harry smiled stroking her lightly. A small owl flew through his kitchen window not two minutes after Hedwig, dropping off the days edition of the Daily Prophet. Harry gave the owl it's payment, a bit of his toast, and watched it fly off.
Hedwig looked to Harry with a look that conveyed 'I-feel-unloved'. Harry smiled and gave her another slice of raw steak, which she gobbled up graciously and hooted softly in her thanks completely forgetting about the other owl. Hand it to Ron and Hedwig to be distracted and pleased by a mere offering of food.
"Gha. . .I'm gonna be late if I don't get out of here. . .", Harry said looking to Hedwig. "Want to come to the office with me today?" Hedwig hooted and flew out the window once more. Harry looked after her with an annoyed expression.
- - - - - - - - - -
It was times like these that Harry wished he was still at Hogwarts. Having his great adventures with Hermione and Ron, going to classes with Professor Lupin and Professor McGonagall, and playing Quidittch for the Gryffindor house. If only he didn't have to go back to potions, he'd be quite happy returning to Hogwarts.
But Harry was now 20, a full-grown man in most ways. He was now taller, in some ways almost gangly. He really hadn't turned out like Ron did. Ron now had large arms, was well built and well liked by many girls, looking a lot like his older brother Charlie. Harry on the other hand was once described to look like a kind of buffed up 'Shaggy'. Who ever this 'Shaggy' character was, he sounded a little shady, so Harry never really bothered anyone about it. He had stubble most of the time on his chin, stubble that much like his hair refused to leave even when cut. His shoulders were broader, his legs longer and his eyes narrower in shape then they used to be. His eyesight had gone rather blotchy over time so he had to get a new pair at least every two years. The pair he currently had Mrs. Weasly helped to pick out. They where smaller and thinner then the frames he used to have as a student, but still all in all they worked and that was all that really mattered.
Harry dropped his knap sack, by his desk and plopped down in his chair. After graduation, Harry had been helped out by Mr. Weasly and given a job in the Ministry, and was still there - three years later. Harry worked with the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, or more so the department just below it that did all the paper work, called the Department of Written Relations to Magical Creatures. Hagrid was so proud when he found out. Harry could still remember the large tears rolling into Hagrid's bushy beard. "Ah Harry. Workin' wit th' Department of Magical Creatures. I knew yu'd make us proud one day. All Grown up, the lot o' yeh." He had to leave the graduation ceremony because he'd been bawling so much. Harry didn't really have the heart to tell Hagrid that he wasn't really working in the Department of Relations and Control of Magical Creatures, but rather the Department of Written Relations to Magical Creatures. They were close enough though, Harry had thought. So it didn't really matter.
But the truth was this job was really quite. . .boring actually. At first he thought he'd be out on the field, but the only available job there was, was basic paperwork and cover up. Harry wasn't exactly thrilled with his position. All he did was write up reports of complaints from various creatures and in some cases, this wasn't always the best thing because it wasn't fun trying to under stand a Merman when all he could do was screech. Finally they had a man come in who could talk to the creature. Turned out he had been hit by a muggle boat and wanted to report about it, but at that point it wasn't even worth going after. To the Ministries relief no one believed the poor man anyway.
Thus far out of his three years in the ministry the only thing Harry had even come close to as far as adventure went, had happened last summer. A man had come in wanting a report sending Harry, and his co-workers into a two week wild goose chase digging through old books trying to find a report about a goblin that had gone mad and decided to go after unsuspecting muggles. The goblin had spent two weeks in a small village outside Ciro Egypt, and the entire time did nothing but threaten muggles with spoons. They finally found the account in a very old, very dusty volume from 1783. "Rather random bloke wasn't he? I mean . .spoons? Really. Muggles. . . Blimey Harry, are they really scared of such stupid things? ", Kyle Turnpike had said to him after they had finally read the entire account allowed. Harry assured him that several muggles in the world probably would be. Kyle had sighed and went back to shelving the texts muttering "Spoons. . .really. . ." under his breath.
Aside from his adventures in the dust ridden record book room, the most dangerous thing that Harry had ever crossed was a paper clip that had been bewitched into trying to force itself up the nose of anyone who came too close to it. It was rather humorous to see several of his co-workers running about the office with a tiny silvery paper clip whizzing after them, but the prank got old after the first day. This was the height of Harry's danger in the world of the ministries office cubicles.
Now it was three years, and he was still leading this dull boring, tiresome life, and at the moment looking through his office mail.
" Notice, Notice, Troll awareness convention-joy. Hot se- . What's this doing here?!", blushing Harry quickly put an erasing charm over the entire envelope. . .only after going through what was inside. He decided to keep a few pictures, which he put safely stored away into his knap sac( hey, he's a guy, single guys do that kinda thing). Harry sighed taking up the last item of mail. It was a large yellow envelope with dark blue writing on it that could only be the scrawl of a Weasly. Harry snatched the envelope from the desk and tore open the top giving himself a paper cut in the process. Sucking on his paper mauled finer he looked through the contents. Inside was of the following: A news paper article, a letter, and what appeared to be another small envelope containing some kind of pictures or something. Harry ignored the article and the smaller envelope, and went straight to the letter.
Harry,
This is Charlie. Right now I'm in Iceland, and well I'm a bit of freezing my ass off up here. I couldn't remember your home address and well Errol wasn't really up for the job of carrying this too far. Poor Chap, he's next to nothing but a feather duster now. I'll probably be getting another owl soon so not to worry about that anymore. I think Mom and Dad might need a new one to. Give Errol a bit of a retirement don't you think? Do him a bit of good really. Poor old thing having to run all the way back and forth to all me brothers and Ginny and the ministry. Anyway, Dad said if I sent it he'd put it in your box for me. I've got myself in a bit of a pickle Harry, and Dad's been telling me you look quite bored sitting around in a cubicle all day. So I thought I'd ask you bit of a favor.
I'm having a bit of trouble with my team and the current assignment I'm on. I'd like you to come out and help me. Granted you'll be working with what I work with all the time. At any point The team would love for you to come out and help. We're really in need of some men and I can't help but think that'd you'd be a great help to all of us. If you'll come that is.
In any case, included is an article from the newspaper, and a few muggle photos that I've come across. Nearly killed myself over worrying if Dad would get a hold of those or not. Well. Reply to me ASAP!
Yours,
Charlie.
PS. Ron says "Hello."
"Ron's with them? He's getting more fun then me? Wonder why Mr. Weasly didn't let me know about that. Eh, probably slipped his mind." Harry muttered looking over the letter one more time, shivering at the thought of Iceland and what Charlie worked with. Why Iceland? Why Dragons? Why him? Why this as the only escape? Of all places to invite me Charlie, really. Harry thought. He sighed and leaned back in his chair going to the article, and read:
Ministry of Iceland Baffled by Dragons Disappearing Act
Correspondence: Ian Kane
It seems that in the past few weeks muggles who happen to come by a cavern near a camping resort are getting scared away by the appearance of a large white Dragon. The Dragon has actually burned several muggles and wizards alike. The grounds are often scorched and trees and bushes some times still cindering after inspection. The on going appearances aren't as baffling as the sudden disappearances of the dragon in itself. Iceland's Minister of Magic, Oswald Finlayde met up with England's Minister of Magic, Cornileious Fudge last week in a private meeting. Fudge agreed to send some of England's top dragon handlers and some of the workers from their Department of Relations and Control of Magical Creatures. Among the dragon handlers is England's own Charlie Weasly whose second in command but by far the best of the lot. He's worked with all kinds of dragons in colonies inside Romania. He's even got the burn scars to prove it. The team also consists of Charlie's younger brother Ron, and a few more people from his original team back in Romania. Not only this, but the team also seems to have a young lady with them who is their historian, brought in from England's Department of Historical Magic for reasons unknown at the time. This reporter has gathered that she's quite a brilliant young lady and a graduate from Hogwarts named Hermione Granger. ("Hermione!!") In any case this reporter wonders if any muggle or wizard alike will be safe in Iceland's forests. Tourists are encouraged to stay away from the 'Urban Wood Camping Resort'. Special spells and charms have been put up to ward off muggles. A good charm for young teenage wizards should be put up as well in this reporters opinion. Further information will be published as soon as more is gathered.
Harry sunk into his chair looking at the article again, groaning as he saw Hermione's name. This HAD to be a set up. Yes he had royally pissed her off and YES Harry was seriously sorry for it and yes he DID want to apologize. . .but did they really think that Harry was that STUPID to fall for a trick like that? To be lured into adventure and enduring Hermione's rage again? Harry thought he'd really rather battle an invisible dragon then be around Hermione. He got so nervous around her. True he hadn't seen her since he left Hogwarts. True She hadn't sent him an owl ever since they left Hogwart's, and for half their seventh year she refused to talk to him. Granted she'd talk to Ron, but not Harry. Not to mention every one of the letters that he had sent Hermione were sent back and never once opened. But still Harry always got nervous around her. Maybe three years will be enough time to . . . let her cool down a bit, he thought.
Harry sighed looking over the news article again, Hermione and a Dragon. Working in a cubicle. Hermione and DISSAPEARING Dragon. Cubicle. PISSED Hermione and Disappearing Dragon AND Bitter cold weather. Cubicle. Anyway Harry turned it in his mind the trip to Iceland seemed much more interesting and fun then anytime spent wasting away in his cubicle's chair. ". . .I am such an idiot. . ." he muttered to himself. Not even bothering to look at the pictures (thinking he'd seen enough anyway), Harry put everything back in the envelope and into his knap sac, got up, and left for the office of Joseph Ordory, the head of his department.
By: By Archeress
Disclaimer: I own no element of Harry potter what so ever except my own personal characters. JK Rowling I LOVE your books, you and Harry Inspire me to be a better writer and Harry's just so irresistible to use. I pray you will not sue me (unless you want my socks. . . . ) and that you will know I am a devout fan and try my hardest to keep your characters IN character as much as possible.
A/N: Enjoy and READ AND RESPOND if any errors are found guys let me know because I am notorious for bad spelling and grammar errors. I hope you like it any suggestions, praise, bricks? Send me an IM at InuArcher OR You can contact me at anime_archer@yahoo.com Hope to hear for any of you!
If there was one thing that Harry really couldn't stand, it was an ice- cold hard wood floor in the morning. Lying in bed looking at his alarm clock, Harry had one minute left until the shrill annoying blast of the buzzer went off. Today he really didn't feel like listening to it, so dreading the horrible torture his feet would go through once they touched the floor, Harry turned off the alarm before it even went off and sheered himself of his covers.
Flinching he finally put his feet on the cold floor, attempting to getting them used to the chilly surface, as he did every morning was, if anything, futile. Ron had once laughed at him telling Harry he looked like Hermione when she squeamishly went swimming and tried to get used to water when it was a 'tad too cold'. Ron stopped laughing, however, when he finally put the pads of his feet down onto the icy floor, yelping as he scrambled back into bed.
Harry groaned looking at the window. Frost had covered the inside of it. Running his left hand through his mussy hair, Harry muttered incoherently about talking to his landlord.
Dashing across the room, grabbing his robe, and almost slamming himself into the bathroom door in the process, Harry made his way into the bathroom and onto the slightly warmer maroon bathroom rug. From here he balanced himself on one leg trying not to touch the cold porcelain of the toilet and reaching for the knobs to turn the water on. He did this in quite a feat of flexibility; testing his water with a finger and then turning the shower on. Harry quickly undressed and scuttled the bathroom rug over the painfully pepto-bismol pink bathroom tiles, to the edge of the shower, and hopped in. He washed his hair, and his body in general, hoping out to quite a bit warmer, sauna like bathroom. He shivered opening the door, welcomed by a blast of cold air. This was after he put his robe on, of course. The sauna like state quickly vanished leaving Harry shuddering as he dried and combed his hair, and shaved his chin. Still in not but a robe Harry scurried into the kitchen dancing on his toes switching his feet so fast it looked as though he desperately needed to go to the bathroom. Harry grabbed some bread, popped it in the toaster, put the tea on, opened the kitchen window and quickly sped back into his room to change.
Harry got dressed in his normal robes of black and green, then went about to put his socks on. Once they were on her wriggled his toes inside the cocoon of cotton that warmed his feet. Ahhh, socks! Never was there such a wonderful thing! Ever since Harry moved into this flat he never had one thing to say about Dobby and his obsession with socks. Socks were warm. Socks were comfy. Socks were grand.
Walking this time, Harry picked up his toast from the toaster and buttered it, getting out a cup and saucer for his tea, and taking out a few strips of raw steak from the refrigerator, for Hedwig once she returned from her morning flight.
Harry sat down, enjoying his buttered toast and tea. Hedwig soon flew in through the open window and hooted softly as Harry bid her good morning and gave her a bit of steak. She nipped his finger softly in her gratitude. Harry smiled stroking her lightly. A small owl flew through his kitchen window not two minutes after Hedwig, dropping off the days edition of the Daily Prophet. Harry gave the owl it's payment, a bit of his toast, and watched it fly off.
Hedwig looked to Harry with a look that conveyed 'I-feel-unloved'. Harry smiled and gave her another slice of raw steak, which she gobbled up graciously and hooted softly in her thanks completely forgetting about the other owl. Hand it to Ron and Hedwig to be distracted and pleased by a mere offering of food.
"Gha. . .I'm gonna be late if I don't get out of here. . .", Harry said looking to Hedwig. "Want to come to the office with me today?" Hedwig hooted and flew out the window once more. Harry looked after her with an annoyed expression.
- - - - - - - - - -
It was times like these that Harry wished he was still at Hogwarts. Having his great adventures with Hermione and Ron, going to classes with Professor Lupin and Professor McGonagall, and playing Quidittch for the Gryffindor house. If only he didn't have to go back to potions, he'd be quite happy returning to Hogwarts.
But Harry was now 20, a full-grown man in most ways. He was now taller, in some ways almost gangly. He really hadn't turned out like Ron did. Ron now had large arms, was well built and well liked by many girls, looking a lot like his older brother Charlie. Harry on the other hand was once described to look like a kind of buffed up 'Shaggy'. Who ever this 'Shaggy' character was, he sounded a little shady, so Harry never really bothered anyone about it. He had stubble most of the time on his chin, stubble that much like his hair refused to leave even when cut. His shoulders were broader, his legs longer and his eyes narrower in shape then they used to be. His eyesight had gone rather blotchy over time so he had to get a new pair at least every two years. The pair he currently had Mrs. Weasly helped to pick out. They where smaller and thinner then the frames he used to have as a student, but still all in all they worked and that was all that really mattered.
Harry dropped his knap sack, by his desk and plopped down in his chair. After graduation, Harry had been helped out by Mr. Weasly and given a job in the Ministry, and was still there - three years later. Harry worked with the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, or more so the department just below it that did all the paper work, called the Department of Written Relations to Magical Creatures. Hagrid was so proud when he found out. Harry could still remember the large tears rolling into Hagrid's bushy beard. "Ah Harry. Workin' wit th' Department of Magical Creatures. I knew yu'd make us proud one day. All Grown up, the lot o' yeh." He had to leave the graduation ceremony because he'd been bawling so much. Harry didn't really have the heart to tell Hagrid that he wasn't really working in the Department of Relations and Control of Magical Creatures, but rather the Department of Written Relations to Magical Creatures. They were close enough though, Harry had thought. So it didn't really matter.
But the truth was this job was really quite. . .boring actually. At first he thought he'd be out on the field, but the only available job there was, was basic paperwork and cover up. Harry wasn't exactly thrilled with his position. All he did was write up reports of complaints from various creatures and in some cases, this wasn't always the best thing because it wasn't fun trying to under stand a Merman when all he could do was screech. Finally they had a man come in who could talk to the creature. Turned out he had been hit by a muggle boat and wanted to report about it, but at that point it wasn't even worth going after. To the Ministries relief no one believed the poor man anyway.
Thus far out of his three years in the ministry the only thing Harry had even come close to as far as adventure went, had happened last summer. A man had come in wanting a report sending Harry, and his co-workers into a two week wild goose chase digging through old books trying to find a report about a goblin that had gone mad and decided to go after unsuspecting muggles. The goblin had spent two weeks in a small village outside Ciro Egypt, and the entire time did nothing but threaten muggles with spoons. They finally found the account in a very old, very dusty volume from 1783. "Rather random bloke wasn't he? I mean . .spoons? Really. Muggles. . . Blimey Harry, are they really scared of such stupid things? ", Kyle Turnpike had said to him after they had finally read the entire account allowed. Harry assured him that several muggles in the world probably would be. Kyle had sighed and went back to shelving the texts muttering "Spoons. . .really. . ." under his breath.
Aside from his adventures in the dust ridden record book room, the most dangerous thing that Harry had ever crossed was a paper clip that had been bewitched into trying to force itself up the nose of anyone who came too close to it. It was rather humorous to see several of his co-workers running about the office with a tiny silvery paper clip whizzing after them, but the prank got old after the first day. This was the height of Harry's danger in the world of the ministries office cubicles.
Now it was three years, and he was still leading this dull boring, tiresome life, and at the moment looking through his office mail.
" Notice, Notice, Troll awareness convention-joy. Hot se- . What's this doing here?!", blushing Harry quickly put an erasing charm over the entire envelope. . .only after going through what was inside. He decided to keep a few pictures, which he put safely stored away into his knap sac( hey, he's a guy, single guys do that kinda thing). Harry sighed taking up the last item of mail. It was a large yellow envelope with dark blue writing on it that could only be the scrawl of a Weasly. Harry snatched the envelope from the desk and tore open the top giving himself a paper cut in the process. Sucking on his paper mauled finer he looked through the contents. Inside was of the following: A news paper article, a letter, and what appeared to be another small envelope containing some kind of pictures or something. Harry ignored the article and the smaller envelope, and went straight to the letter.
Harry,
This is Charlie. Right now I'm in Iceland, and well I'm a bit of freezing my ass off up here. I couldn't remember your home address and well Errol wasn't really up for the job of carrying this too far. Poor Chap, he's next to nothing but a feather duster now. I'll probably be getting another owl soon so not to worry about that anymore. I think Mom and Dad might need a new one to. Give Errol a bit of a retirement don't you think? Do him a bit of good really. Poor old thing having to run all the way back and forth to all me brothers and Ginny and the ministry. Anyway, Dad said if I sent it he'd put it in your box for me. I've got myself in a bit of a pickle Harry, and Dad's been telling me you look quite bored sitting around in a cubicle all day. So I thought I'd ask you bit of a favor.
I'm having a bit of trouble with my team and the current assignment I'm on. I'd like you to come out and help me. Granted you'll be working with what I work with all the time. At any point The team would love for you to come out and help. We're really in need of some men and I can't help but think that'd you'd be a great help to all of us. If you'll come that is.
In any case, included is an article from the newspaper, and a few muggle photos that I've come across. Nearly killed myself over worrying if Dad would get a hold of those or not. Well. Reply to me ASAP!
Yours,
Charlie.
PS. Ron says "Hello."
"Ron's with them? He's getting more fun then me? Wonder why Mr. Weasly didn't let me know about that. Eh, probably slipped his mind." Harry muttered looking over the letter one more time, shivering at the thought of Iceland and what Charlie worked with. Why Iceland? Why Dragons? Why him? Why this as the only escape? Of all places to invite me Charlie, really. Harry thought. He sighed and leaned back in his chair going to the article, and read:
Ministry of Iceland Baffled by Dragons Disappearing Act
Correspondence: Ian Kane
It seems that in the past few weeks muggles who happen to come by a cavern near a camping resort are getting scared away by the appearance of a large white Dragon. The Dragon has actually burned several muggles and wizards alike. The grounds are often scorched and trees and bushes some times still cindering after inspection. The on going appearances aren't as baffling as the sudden disappearances of the dragon in itself. Iceland's Minister of Magic, Oswald Finlayde met up with England's Minister of Magic, Cornileious Fudge last week in a private meeting. Fudge agreed to send some of England's top dragon handlers and some of the workers from their Department of Relations and Control of Magical Creatures. Among the dragon handlers is England's own Charlie Weasly whose second in command but by far the best of the lot. He's worked with all kinds of dragons in colonies inside Romania. He's even got the burn scars to prove it. The team also consists of Charlie's younger brother Ron, and a few more people from his original team back in Romania. Not only this, but the team also seems to have a young lady with them who is their historian, brought in from England's Department of Historical Magic for reasons unknown at the time. This reporter has gathered that she's quite a brilliant young lady and a graduate from Hogwarts named Hermione Granger. ("Hermione!!") In any case this reporter wonders if any muggle or wizard alike will be safe in Iceland's forests. Tourists are encouraged to stay away from the 'Urban Wood Camping Resort'. Special spells and charms have been put up to ward off muggles. A good charm for young teenage wizards should be put up as well in this reporters opinion. Further information will be published as soon as more is gathered.
Harry sunk into his chair looking at the article again, groaning as he saw Hermione's name. This HAD to be a set up. Yes he had royally pissed her off and YES Harry was seriously sorry for it and yes he DID want to apologize. . .but did they really think that Harry was that STUPID to fall for a trick like that? To be lured into adventure and enduring Hermione's rage again? Harry thought he'd really rather battle an invisible dragon then be around Hermione. He got so nervous around her. True he hadn't seen her since he left Hogwarts. True She hadn't sent him an owl ever since they left Hogwart's, and for half their seventh year she refused to talk to him. Granted she'd talk to Ron, but not Harry. Not to mention every one of the letters that he had sent Hermione were sent back and never once opened. But still Harry always got nervous around her. Maybe three years will be enough time to . . . let her cool down a bit, he thought.
Harry sighed looking over the news article again, Hermione and a Dragon. Working in a cubicle. Hermione and DISSAPEARING Dragon. Cubicle. PISSED Hermione and Disappearing Dragon AND Bitter cold weather. Cubicle. Anyway Harry turned it in his mind the trip to Iceland seemed much more interesting and fun then anytime spent wasting away in his cubicle's chair. ". . .I am such an idiot. . ." he muttered to himself. Not even bothering to look at the pictures (thinking he'd seen enough anyway), Harry put everything back in the envelope and into his knap sac, got up, and left for the office of Joseph Ordory, the head of his department.
