1.Wedding
"So what's the verdict?"
"Not too bad, almost tasteful," replied Dafydd brightly, "well, except for the twins but that really goes without saying."
"I'll get them back when it's their turns," vowed Ron, slightly more seriously than was warranted, "Fred's really ticklish if you know the right spot!"
Dafydd laughed and put the finishing touches to his own contribution. He animated the woad image and Ron wriggled as the blue dragon circled around over his skin. Fred was not the only red head who was ticklish. Dafydd handed his best friend his wedding tunic and then allowed him to remove his blindfold once the woad good luck images were covered up.
"Can't you do something about that?" pleaded Ron, wriggling even more violently. "I won't be able to keep still for the ceremony if this keeps up."
"I expect he's just a bit frisky," replied Dafydd. "Don't worry, I'm sure he'll settle down before long, after all as Hagrid says, a beast is a piece of cake if you know how to calm him."
Ron glared. Dafydd smiled sweetly; the animation was having the desired effect and diverting Ron away from his pre-wedding jitters.
They were still a few minutes shy of eleven o'clock and so Dafydd put up some wards against their being overheard and they took their chance at a proper conversation.
"So where've you dumped the kid?" asked Ron looking hard at Dafydd's voluminous formal robes.
"You think I'd bring him here?" replied Dafydd incredulously. "Like nobody'd notice if I just turned up with a baby. The boy's in the Village being doted on by his cousins. Bit tiresome their custom of not naming a kid until he survives the wanding aged seven – I don't like just calling him 'boy,'"
"I thought you called him Kitiana," replied Ron puzzled.
"Kitiana means 'boy,' you shout 'kitiana' in the Village and you'd get all the male children within earshot looking up."
"Listen mate," said Ron urgently as the clock got nearer to the auspicious hour, "I know we're not to ask about why you left or you'll leave completely – emotional blackmail I'd call that, but that's by the by – but will you say how long you're going to be gone for?"
"I can't return until certain events happen – and no, I can't tell you what they are without…" Ron nodded in understanding. When Dafydd had contacted the other members of the Gryffindor quartet he had made it quite clear that he had left to prevent certain events, but telling them what they were would bring such actions about. He had made it a non-negotiable condition of keeping in contact that they not try to find out why he left and make the whole precaution pointless. "I may never be able to return," continued Dafydd a bit wistfully, "and now I have other priorities anyway. I think my kitiana needs to be brought up away from the British wizarding world, at least until he's eleven."
"You're not going to tell him about magic? Surely after what the Dursleys-"
"Be hard not to with living in the Village with Gritani and his kin, but I meant more that I want him to make his own conclusions about the wizarding world over here. He will wield a lot of power when he's older and I don't want him to be indoctrinated. Maybe a muggle education would be a good idea too… Anyway, we'd better get down to the ceremony. Wouldn't do for Hermione to get there first!"
The wedding of Ron and Hermione was a small affair compared to Dafydd's own a couple of years previously, but they were surrounded by friends and family in a way he could never be. Hermione's non-magic-aware relatives had been told that the couple were having a simple registry office ceremony, but then the party would be the main event. The reception was going to be purely muggle and many pairs of hands were clenching in the prayer that Arthur Weasley would not show himself up as too eccentric by asking too many questions about muggle technologies.
Dafydd came into close contact with Sirius and Remus, he even danced with Remus. He had spent a long time building up his occlumancy walls and was confident that Remus would not work out that he was not the metamorphmagus in disguise that Sirius had arranged to keep up the fiction of a rift-free Crimson House.
He got away with the deception, almost. It was so near. Dafydd's face was a picture as Sirius yanked the wooden ring off his finger and apparated the pair of them away to Lions' Den. It had been done discretely, and Dafydd doubted that the muggles had noticed a thing, but the temporary defeat still rankled. It would be temporary, Dafydd was certain of that, after all Sirius did not know what was inside the ring which Dafydd used to focus his magic. There was a plentiful supply of such material, assuming his captors were not about to shave Dafydd's head. Sirius was unlikely to be very au fait with the biblical story of Samson. Besides, Dafydd had hidden allies who would help expedite his escape.
It was not Lions' Den, but Grimauld Place that the pair rematerialised in. Sirius, Remus and Severus had been planning this abduction for months, correctly guessing that Dafydd would not pass up on attending his best friends' wedding. They were unsure who had the higher authority over Simba and Leon, the house elves at Lions' Den, and so had decided against taking Dafydd back there. He also might well know it better than they did and escape before answering their questions. The wooden ring had been a bonus. Remus had explained that Dafydd had stopped wearing it, but then it had been there on his finger and in plain sight too. Sirius petrified Dafydd. "Sorry about this," he said cheerfully, "but I'm taking no chances now that I've got my hands on you." He levitated Dafydd through the house to the sitting room and tied him securely to the same chair he had sat in when last Severus and Sirius had interrogated him about his actions.
Dafydd's eyes were the only part of him which he could move, and so he looked curiously around his current prison. Nothing much had changed. Sirius drew up another chair and sat staring sadly into Dafydd's eyes in the hope of softening his resolve. Dafydd was doing some quick thinking. He could hear footsteps coming down the hallway and easily recognised his father's gait. The old equation of potions master equals danger rose in his consciousness and he hoped that his theory about veritaserum was true. Well, nobody would be pleased with the outcome if they did get the truth out of him.
Severus did indeed bring in several potion phials, they clinked menacingly within his robes, but he simply sat down in a chair and followed Sirius's lead.
Remus came in leaning slightly on a stick now that he was out of the public eye, and also sat down in Dafydd's field of vision. The three wizards stared at the zia for a long time.
"Explain," commanded Severus at length. Dafydd responded with as withering a look as he could, given that he was immobilised.
"Oh," said Sirius sheepishly in sudden understanding and he waved his wand at Dafydd releasing the body bind spell. Dafydd was still tied to his seat and so could not move far, but he could now talk.
"Explain," repeated Severus neutrally.
"Dafydd Owens, Dragonmaster, 97003," replied Dafydd mechanically. Name, rank and serial number that was all they were going to get.
"Explain why you left," Severus asked again, keeping his voice as calm as possible.
"Dafydd Owens, Dragonmaster, 97003."
"Did you leave of your own accord?" asked Severus.
"Dafydd Owens, Dragonmaster, 97003." The reply was the same. Dafydd tuned out the questions and just kept repeating the same phrase. Severus tried asking him what day of the week it was, if his name was Dafydd Owens, all sorts of questions with automatic and innocuous answers but Dafydd refused to be drawn into any kind of conversation and simply continued to use his shadow dragon training for keeping information intact through an interrogation. After an hour or so, much longer than Dafydd had expected them to have the patience to keep hearing the same answer, his captors gave up and moved onto plan B – potions.
Severus drew out a small phial of veritaserum. He opened it carefully and wafted it under Dafydd's nose for him to identify. Dafydd shivered involuntarily as the scent pervaded his nostrils.
Severus saw the moment of weakness. "This is your last chance," he said. "We are willing to listen to your side of the story, but just give us some indication that you'll try to explain why you left. It's the not knowing that is so hard." He looked beseechingly into Dafydd's eyes, pleading and begging in a way he would never vocalise. Dafydd looked beyond him towards Remus and his resolve hardened.
"Dafydd Owens, Dragonmaster, 97003," was the only reply he gave.
Severus caught on to his chance and dropped three drops of the potion into his son's mouth as he spoke the hated statement. Severus had a feeling of déjà vu, but he hoped that this time Dafydd would not be poisoned by the potion his father forced upon him. It was just as he let the last part of the dose fall that Severus located his nagging doubt. Dafydd had been given veritaserum as a minor before his fixed trial. He made some quick calculations. Dafydd would have been fourteen, on the cusp of the danger zone, but he had been very small for his age… Severus had a horrible thought that he knew where this was heading. His suspicions were soon confirmed.
"Start with something simple," he told Sirius.
"Start with something simple," mimicked Dafydd monotonously.
"I'm fed up with these games," said Sirius in mock fury. "Just tell us why you left."
"I'm fed up with these games," repeated Dafydd unemotionally. "Just tell us-"
Severus spoke up over the noise. "He can't help it," he said wearily, "It's the veritaserum he was given before, he was too young and it's stayed in his system – so this is like a mild overdose.
"…was given before…" repeated Dafydd.
"We won't get any sense out of him for the next 12 maybe 24 hours," declared Severus, extremely annoyed with himself. "Then we can try again but with a lower dose.
"Best put him to bed then I suppose," said Sirius. "This is so frustrating…"
"We've waited this long for answers, we can wait another day," said Remus, as ever the voice of reason.
Somehow keeping watch on Dafydd overnight seemed unimportant since he was unlikely to get his reason back any time soon, and even if he did he could not get out of the house with the antiappariation wards up. So Sirius was pleased to find no resistance to just locking him in one of the many bedrooms, without a watcher.
The next morning they realised their folly. On entering the room Remus found that Dafydd was gone. He had left them a note. It simply read:
"How did you think I got out of Azkaban? No wooden rings lying around there for the taking!"
Dafydd materialised in the heart of the Brazilian rainforest shortly before sunrise. He fiddled with the piece of hair he had wound around his finger. He'd have to make another ring, but he could easily loose the hair to make it. He pressed on towards the Village; with luck he would be there before Ron and Hermione arrived on their honeymoon. Now if he could just stop repeating the mating calls of the local fauna he could put the whole incident behind him.
Author's Note:
Usual disclaimer - it's on a fanfiction website go figure. I don't own the characters, I'm just having a bit of fun with them.
Sorry this has taken so long to come out - I like to have it almost finished before posting since I don't write linearly. I got a bit fed up with it but I've stuck with it to give some kind of completion to D and D.
