Dancing With Dragons
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs J.K. Rowling. DragonVale belongs to Backflip Studios. I own nothing but OCs.
Chapter 1 - Feasting On Fruitcake
He awoke to the warm scent of baked goods wafting from the kitchen, the air heavy with the smell of cinnamon, sugar and nutmeg. This was his favorite way to wake up in the morning, his mouth watering as he caught a whiff of pumpkin pie.
Scabior eased the covers off and got out of bed, shivering as the cold air made contact with his bare skin. He ignored the cold and made his way downstairs, hoping that his wife had something good for him waiting on the table. And if not, well, Scabior had no problem sneaking a taste of her delicious pastries behind her back. A taste of cookie dough here, a smidgen of soup there. He was sure she wouldn't notice.
He opened the kitchen door, and was almost bowled over by the baby dragon that went scurrying across the floor. Pumpkin, Draconius' harvest moon dragon, was helping his wife in the kitchen. And when he opened the door the little dragon went running outside, its pink tongue lolling from the corner of its mouth like a puppy.
Pumpkin ducked under the flap in the front door, heading out into the garden to gather some more fruit. Scabior scratched his head, watching as the plump dragon wriggled until he finally managed to get out the doggie door. He then turned to his wife and said, "Why's 'e in such a 'urry, pet? Don't tell me you burned another burrito in 'ere."
"Oh haha. Very funny, Scabior." Draconius, who was in the process of making dragon treats, looked up from her fruity concoction and smiled. "He's my new assistant. And since you overslept this morning and weren't here to help out, I asked him to fetch me some berries from the garden."
"Wha are you making?" Scabior walked over to the counter and looked down at the bowl in her hands. There were flecks of cinnamon and ginger in the honey colored batter, with gumdrops and slices of almond adding an extra burst of flavor. "Tha looks good, sweet'eart." He reached for the bowl and got thwacked with a wooden spoon for trying to sneak a taste.
"Stay out of it, Scabior. It's Ro's recipe for dragon fruitcake. I read about it in this week's issue of Ma Goody's Holiday Baking."
"Fruitcake?" Scabior wrinkled his nose in disgust. His wife was the only person he knew that enjoyed eating fruitcake. Not even Greyback would eat those fruit filled mystery cakes, and he'd seen the werewolf devour a dead opossum they found on the side of the road. "Sorry, pet, but I think I'll pass."
The doggie door rattled as Pumpkin backed into the house, his jaws clamped shut on the handle of a large basket. Cranberries spilled out onto the floor as the little dragon pulled the basket in through the door, then went scampering across the living room and into the kitchen. He stopped beside Draconius, wagging his tail like a puppy as he looked up at her. Draconius patted him on the head, setting the bowl aside before bending down and taking the basket of berries from her precocious pet.
"Look at you. Looks like someone made a mess," said Draconius, smiling as she scratched Pumpkin under the chin. The little dragon had left a trail of cranberries across the living room, and more than a few of them were squished when the dragon accidentally stepped on them. But Draconius didn't seem to mind. Pumpkin was no different than her daughter Melody. They were both playful and did what they could to help out in the kitchen.
With a wave of her wand Draconius charmed the wooden spoon so it continued stirring the batter while she cleaned the mess off the floor. Pumpkin watched as one by one the squished berries vanished from sight. His eyes widened as the berries that were still intact, as well as the berries that were in the basket, flew through the air and into the bowl of batter.
The baby dragon made a low, gurgling noise in the back of his throat and started chasing the berries across the kitchen. He snapped at them as they went flying past, trying to catch them before they went into the batter, then landed on the counter and proceeded to shove his face in the bowl.
"Pumpkin!" Draconius exclaimed, lifting the gurgling baby off the counter. She conjured a washcloth and wiped the sticky batter off his face, chuckling as he squirmed and growled. "Good heavens, I'm glad Melody doesn't know how to fly. She'd be into everything if she had wings."
While his wife was busy with the baby dragon, Scabior spied the pumpkin pie cooling on the windowsill. The aroma from the freshly baked pie made his mouth water, and maybe, if he was lucky, he could make off with a slice before Draconius had time to notice. But before he could get close enough to summon a piece of pie from the windowsill, Draconius set Pumpkin on the floor, and the little dragon ran towards him, seized him by the leg of his pajama bottoms, and shook the plaid material like a dog.
Scabior grinned sheepishly as he looked at his wife. Draconius planted her hands on her hips, frowning as he backed out of the kitchen. "I'll show myself out then," he said, the baby dragon still growling around a mouthful of soft fabric.
Pumpkin was halfway across the kitchen floor when he heard Draconius speak his name. He paused, looking back at her with a mischievous glint in his eyes, then let go of her husband's pants leg and gamboled up to Draconius. He plopped himself down on the floor at her feet, smiling and panting like a puppy. It was clear that Scabior wasn't going to sneak past his wife's pet and have a taste of her latest culinary creation, because this little dragon was more than a beloved pet. He was a babysitter for Melody, a helper in the kitchen, and a guard dog that kept Scabior from stealing food.
.oOo.
Within a short while the aroma of fruit and spices drifted from the kitchen, replacing the smell of pumpkin pie with that of freshly baked bread and seasonings. And while it smelled delicious, Scabior had no desire to eat the dragon fruitcake. He'd never known anyone who ate that stuff, and for the most part fruitcakes were a joke. You gave them to people as a gag gift, or when you didn't really like someone but wanted to get them a gift anyway. No one ate them except his wife, which is why he shouldn't have been surprised when he walked into the kitchen and saw more than six dozen fruitcakes piled high on the kitchen table.
His lips parted as he gazed at the treats in disbelief. There were so many of them! How on earth were they going to eat them all? And why did she make so many in the first place?
"Pet," Scabior said slowly. "Why is our kitchen buried alive in dragon treats?"
His wife was about to speak when the pile nearest to him suddenly collapsed. Treats toppled off the table and onto the floor as Pumpkin emerged from the pile. He had somehow managed to burrow into the mound of fruitcake and was now eating his way to freedom.
Scabior sighed and shook his head.
"Just let him go," said Draconius. "He's clearly enjoying himself. And now we have enough fruitcake for our family feast."
"No, you an Pumpkin 'ave enough fruitcake for the family feast. I won't touch those things with a ten foot broomstick."
"Why not?" asked Draconius, a hint of disappointment in her voice. "I made them just for us, and for him too, of course.
"Because they taste awful an they're so 'ard you could use them as bricks." This wasn't exactly an exaggeration. Scabior had no idea how his wife could eat them because dragon fruitcakes were usually very dry and hard. The dragons didn't mind because they had sharp claws which they used for tearing apart the heavy cakes. But a regular person would have difficulty cutting the cake into slices.
This gave Scabior an idea, and to prove his point he waited until his wife was in the garden, then snuck into the kitchen and made off with several dozen fruitcakes. He took the pilfered pastries into his daughter's bedroom and began stacking them on top of each other, one by one, until a he constructed a miniature play house for his little girl.
Melody giggled and crawled into the doorway on her hands and knees, followed shortly by the baby dragon who had walked in on them and decided to lend a hand. He did this by pushing the "bricks" into place with his snout, and by encouraging Scabior with a series of playful coos and snorts. It thrilled him to no end to see Scabior building an edible house out of his favorite food. And by the time Draconius noticed that some of the treats were missing, Pumpkin had already eaten a hole in the wall big enough for him to walk through.
The little dragon was happily munching on fruitcake when Draconius discovered the edible play house. He sat on the floor next to Melody, surrounded by crumbs and bits of dried cranberries. Scabior was seated nearby, watching as his daughter picked gumdrops out of the fruitcake. It was the only part of the fruitcake she would eat, and the more she ate the more the wall started to look like a piece of swiss cheese.
"'Ello, beau'iful," said Scabior, grinning as his wife walked into the room. "Look at wha we 'ave 'ere. A designer play 'ouse made from nothing but the finest bricks in all of England."
Draconius was still for several seconds before moving towards the playhouse and peering through the window at her daughter.
"Hi, mummy!" Melody chirped. She waved to her mother, who looked up at Scabior then back at her.
"You built a house out of fruitcake?" said Draconius, her eyebrows raising towards her hairline.
Scabior nodded. "Sure did, pet. I told you those bloody fruitcakes are like bricks. So I used them to make a 'ouse for Melody an Pumpkin. An look, 'olds up just fine even with two little ones nibbling on it."
Pumpkin burped, and a thin puff of smoke wafted from his nose. Melody chuckled, plucked a gumdrop from the wall, then fed it to the baby dragon. They were happy, and as long as her babies were happy that was all that mattered. Draconius let them have their play house, but only for a little while because she didn't want them getting sick from eating too much.
"An edible playhouse." Draconius shook her head. "Honestly, Scabior. Of all the harebrained ideas you've come up with, this one takes the cake. Literally! You literally stole my fruitcakes and used them to build a house for Melody and Pumpkin." Her husband never failed to keep her entertained with his humorous, and sometimes childish, antics. And to be honest, she found the idea of an edible play house rather amusing.
Scabior leaned back in the chair he was sitting in, his hands behind his head as he tilted chair back on two legs. "You think tha's something, pet, wait until you see the gingerbread 'ouse I make for Christmas."