Iron Dragons and Firelegs

Cht. 1 Over the rainbow

"Jesus, Dodds, did you even know this place was here?" Captain Lacey looked around aghast as she took in her surroundings. She and two lieutenants stood alongside three RAF officers in the middle of what looked like a village straight out of the dark ages. The High Street wasn't even paved, with no cars in sight, and here and there people bustled about in brightly colored robes as if hurrying for cover. Some of the stores, too, were boarded up. A sign in one shop window read, "Gladrags Wizard Wear, established 1108."

"Never in my life," answered her British counterpart, a perfectly affable flight lieutenant named Brian.

"What do you suppose, sir, some type of weird cult or something? They can't really be wizards, can they?" This from flying officer Kellye Brynn, who surveyed the scene with blatant cynicism. Lacey's lieutenants, Hancock and Thorpe, both stood hipshot in the middle of the street looking around in utter bewilderment as pilot officer Brandon Thom lit up a ciggy, taking a drag through narrowed eyes.

"I have no bloody clue," replied Dodds. "I've never seen anything like it."

They had come north to Scotland from their base on orders handed straight down from the Prime Minister as an envoy to aid in what he described as a whole other world of witches and wizards, who may be in dire need of their help. They left the government issued van parked alongside the first store in the row and walked the length of the shops to the base of a hill with heavy iron gates flanked with statues of winged boars.

"Now what?" asked Lacey, trying the gates and finding them unwilling to budge despite the lack of a lock.

"I dunno," replied Dodds. "They know we're coming, I'm sure."

At that moment, the gates swung open to admit the six officers onto the grounds of a vast castle that appeared at the top of the hill.

"And to think," Hancock piped up with a thick Georgia drawl, "we didn't even have to ring the dang doorbell."

"Too right, that," said Thom.

"Well, come on then, let's see what's what," said Dodds, waving them on. They started the trek up the hill, exclaiming at a huge facility they took for a stadium of sorts. Off to their left as they neared the castle was a rather large cabin, with a fireplace smoking away and beyond the strangest willow tree any of them had ever seen. Further still to the south was what must have been a fathoms deep lake that butted right up to a cliff just at the edge of the castle. As the group approached the great oak doors at castle's entrance, they swung open to reveal an elderly lady in emerald green robes with square-framed spectacles and a tight top knot.

"How do you do all?" she said with a Scottish brogue as she offered her hand to each airman in turn. "I am Minerva McGonagall, deputy headmistress of Hogwarts. Won't you step in?"

They all shook hands with the strangely dressed woman and stepped into a grand foyer flanked by doors on other side with massive stone stairways leading up and down and great crystal vials containing colored stones. If the wizarding city had flummoxed the crew, it was nothing compared to the sheer awe they felt at finding themselves in what was obviously an immense fortress full of magic. Their heads turned this way and that as they followed Headmistress McGonagall up two flights of stairs to the second floor. The men and women tried to stay calm as they passed portraits that appeared to be moving, some of them waving to them.

"Oh boys," said Lacey, "we've gone completely over the rainbow now."

"Dude! Dude! Dude! Look at the cat, man!" whispered Thorpe, tapping Hancock on the arm. "What the hell, dude!"

"Holy--" blurted Hancock when he looked down to see a mangy tabby passing them by as she gazed up at them through red eyes.

The shock was nothing compared to the jolt they received when the woman stopped in front of a stone gargoyle and said simply, "Fizzing Whizbee." Before any of them could question just what that was, the gargoyle moved to reveal a secret passage of steps spiraling up. Leading the way, McGonagall opened a door at the top and ushered them into a grand office, with more moving portraits and a man standing to meet them who looked like their every image of Merlin himself.

"Welcome, welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," he said, his eyes dancing in merriment at their guests' blatant shock. "My name is Albus Dumbledore, and I thank you for coming so swiftly to our aid."