Dragonriders, Part 1
Chapter 2, Letters

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling. The Dragonriders of Pern belong to Anne McCaffery. No copyright infringement is intended and no money has changed hands.

Author's Note: I forgot to mention this last time. The date this story began is April 5th, 2016. James is a 7th year, Albus is a 6th year and Lily is a 4th year. Also, though I mention Lady McCafferey as the author of the Dragonriders of Pern, I will not be featuring her as a character. I'm pretty sure that it's against the rules of the site, and I have no way of asking her for permission, so I will not put her in the story. Anyone that this happened to in real life (though none of it is actually possible) would invite her to the Hatching, and I honestly thought about letting Albus do exactly that, but I just don't think it's advisable.

Albus stayed with the eggs throughout that night and the next day, listening intently to the growing embryos within them through his gift. He insisted that it was necessary because they didn't know the exact needs of the eggs, what exact temperatures they needed to be kept at, if they might need to be turned at all, and during this first couple of days, he really needed to be there for them, ensuring that they had the best environment to grow in. The professors closed down that potions lab, Lab 4, temporarily, and set Albus up in the room as if it were his dorm room. Since it was the weekend, it wasn't interfering with his classes any, so it wasn't too hard to convince them to allow it, provided he held to school rules and stayed in the lab at night.

Lily visited him before curfew. "You know, I've heard rumors of how much trouble Dad, Uncle Ron and Aunt 'Mione used to get into when they were in school."

"Lils, please."

"I know, Al. But this is insane. You can't handle all this by yourself!"

"I didn't plan on it. I'm just not sure who to bring in yet. We've got to get maybe sixty candidates together who have at least some mental magic, we've got to build a Hatching Ground, we need to find a Weyr, and somehow, we've got to keep the Ministry from trying to kill them off before they've even had a chance to live."

Albus slumped in his chair. Lily could tell that he was worried. "When are you going to write home?"

"Tonight." He sat up. "Actually, you've given me an idea. I'll write Aunt 'Mione, too. She's great at organizing for causes, and she's really unstoppable when you sic her on the Ministry. Goblins, werewolves, house elves, centaurs; you name it, she's championed it."

Lily grinned. "Now you're talking. Alright, I've got to get back to Gryffindor Tower before I get in trouble."

With his sister gone, Albus began writing. He wrote the letters first so that he could send them out with the morning mail. Then he began recording his scientific and empathic observations of the eggs, including annotating the exact series of events which had caused the birth of the eggs. He wrote down what he knew about Pernese dragons, how they produced flame, their life cycles and their dependence on humans. He knew, for instance, that the first generation dragons would only be about as big as a draft horse when full grown, but that within a hundred dragon generations, or three hundred years, they would reach a maximum size of about thirty-five feet long, nose to tip. Ramoth, Mnementh and Canth were anomalies, coming from a genetic bottleneck that occurred when the other five Weyrs went forward. Ramoth was about forty-five feet long.

Albus knew that he was going to have a lot of writing in his future. He'd be writing book after book on the realities of raising and living with dragons, as well as Weyr life andMerlin! He was going to end up making a career out of this! He grinned at himself. This was all contingent, of course, on whether or not he Impressed. That was a big assumption, he supposed. Just because he was hanging out with the eggs right now didn't mean that one of the dragonettes would find him suitable. But Albus hoped, however, that the future dragonriders would allow him to be a part of the dragons' lives. There was no reason to do every single thing the way Madame McCaffrey had written it in her novels, because they didn't have Thread to contend with, and because they were wizards. Having non-riders in the Weyr shouldn't be a problem.

As he lay on his bed, he thought about his life and the many changes that had already been made in it. He'd been born an empath, of course, but when he was twelve, that gift had flared into full power, leaving him an emotional wreck until he'd learned to control it. None of his family had been able to help him through the transition, because they didn't have the gift, but he'd been lucky enough to find a teacher in Cor Cordis, a famous professional empath who was often used at Auror interrogations as a lie detector when Veritaserum had not yet been approved. He'd taught him both control and the ethical use of his gift.

Albus had learned then, for the first time, that he was not exactly like his father. He'd been surprised and dismayed at the attention he got first year because of Harry Potter, and his parents'd had to console him and help him through the ridicule and the fan worship. His brother had stood up for him many times, but then he'd learned how to stand up for himself. And then there came his empathic ability, further separating him from his father in the minds of the public. School had become easier, because no one was fawning on him or harassing him. He'd made good and steadfast friends in Scorpius Malfoy from Slytherin and Amelio Bones from Hufflepuff. If people thought it was strange for a Gryffindor to be chumming with both a Slytherin and a Hufflepuff, they had enough sense not to say so in front of the trio.

As he drifted off to sleep, Albus couldn't help but hope that he would be able to Impress a dragon. To know, bone deep, that he would never be alone, never lack for a loyal and trusted friend; that would be the greatest thing in the world!

First thing in the morning, Lily brought Humphrey, the owl that all three of Harry Potter's children used, and Albus sent off the letters to their Dad and Aunt Hermione. Hagrid soon followed, because they needed to plan out a Hatching Ground. The eggs needed a constant temperature, Albus discovered, of 180?F, so the sands would need to be at least that warm, probably 185?F. The Ground would need to be protected from breezes and from view, and it would need to be able to hold not only the eggs, but also the sixty or so candidates for Impression that they would need to give the new dragons a decent choice. And by the time the eggs hatched, they would need quarters for thirty-two dragons and riders, a consistent supply of fresh meat to feed them, hide for saddles, straps and riding gear, and a space for all those things to fit into that could later grow into a full-fledged Weyr. Then they would have to figure out how to produce firestone.

Albus set a warming charm on the entire room so that constant temperature would be maintained, and then he left with Hagrid to begin building the temporary Hatching Ground. Scorpius and Amelio found him in the quickly rising building, transfiguring pumpkin seeds into walls. Scorpius was the first to say anything. "Where have you been, Potter? You didn't get into trouble without us, did you?"

Albus grinned. "A bit, but it was Zabini's fault, not mine. I was just working on my Potions final so I could take the NEWT early. He threw my book into the thing and it took the information contained in the book for the genetic information it was meant to read. Now I've got thirty two dragon eggs that need a good place to Hatch."

Amelio frowned. "Dragons? What kind of dragons were you reading about?"

"The kind that Anne McCafferey wrote about. She invented them for her novels."

Both boys stared at their friend. Scorpius shook his head. "Your potion produced creatures from a fictional work? Are you sure that's what they are? I mean, have you had them looked at?"

"Not yet. I wanted to get the Hatching Ground finished first. But I" Albus paused. Did he want to tell them why he was so sure? They had certainly stood by him through the mess that his father's fame and his emotional empathic bursts had caused him. That decided him. "I'm sure. I can feel them, even at this early stage, just like I can feel Mom's new baby. I can't feel an unborn creature that doesn't have a mind of its own. I couldn't feel the dragon eggs that I saw when I visited Uncle Charlie in Romania, and they were Hungarian Horntail eggs. Horntails are really a lot smarter than most other dragon breeds. I felt them the moment they began to develop in the cauldron. These dragons are definitely beings, not creatures."

Amelio looked at the structure Albus was building. Three of the exterior walls of the hexagonal building were built, and no other work had yet been done. "This is your 'Hatching Ground'?"

"Yeah. Once the walls are up, there are several things that still need doing. I need a base that will remain hot until I turn it off, with sand on top to cushion the eggs. Then I need a place for people to stand about when it's time for the Hatching, and an office to coordinate bringing Candidates in for Impression. I'm thinking about sixty or so."

Amelio shook his head. "That's quite a load. Need some help?"

"I'd love some."

Harry was pretending to read the morning Quibbler while he drank his first cup of coffee, but he was really watching his wife as she moved around the kitchen making breakfast. She was pregnant with their fourth child, a girl they had decided to name Winifred Dora , and it was one of his favorite things to do in his life, watching Ginny while she was carrying his child. It gave him a sense of pride and well being that he'd never had growing up, because it meant he had a loving family, and that it was growing.

Of course, she was also very beautiful when she was pregnant, and watching her was his favorite past time under any circumstances!

His attention was then diverted as Humfrey, the snowy owl that belonged to James, Albus and Lily, flew in the opened window, dropped a letter beside his plate, and then landed on his perch. Another owl, this one a barn owl, followed, but merely deposited his burden and left. The first letter was from Albus. The second was from Professor McGonagall. Frowning, Harry opened McGonagall's letter fist. His younger son was rarely in trouble at school, so he wondered what could have prompted contact from the Headmistress. Her familiar scrawl briefly threw him back to his own days at Hogwarts, but then he settled down to read the letter.

Mr. Potter,

Please don't be alarmed at this owl. Your son is in no trouble for anything he has done. That said, he has gotten himself into a bit of a spot, and thought I know he plans to write you, I felt it best if I wrote as well.

As you know, Albus was trying to complete his NEWT year in Potions this year so that he would have extra study time for those courses in which he is not quite so gifted. however, his class final, which he had to complete before he would qualify for the advanced placement, was sabotaged in its final stages. The saboteur has been given a month's detention with Mr. Filch. As for what exactly happened, I leave that story for Albus to tell you.

Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress

Harry raised an eyebrow at the letter, not sure what to think. He passed it to Ginny while he opened and read Albus's letter.

Dad and Mum,

Something's happened here at school that's both bad and good. My Potions final was sabotaged by Cord Zabini, so I won't be able to finish early like I'd planned. But it's not what he did, but how he did it that has caused what I need to talk to you both about.

Do you remember those books Aunt 'Mione gave me for Christmas four years ago? The Dragonriders of Pern series? I was reading one of them during the simmering time, and when I wasn't looking Zabini threw it into the cauldron. The long and the short of it is that now we've got thirty-two Pernese dragon eggs hardening in a temperature-controlled lab until Hagrid and I can get the Hatching Ground built.

I've written to Aunt 'Mione, too, since she's basically the family solicitor. The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures won't understand, at least not immediately, that these aren't magical creatures, but magically created beings, and I know no one better than Hermione Weasley to get it through their skulls. After she reams me for being so incautious, anyway.

Do you remember when I was able to sense Mum's new baby and I congratulated you both before you could actually break the news? Something similar happened here. I know that these eggs contain beings who are capable of self awareness, but what I don't know is if they'll believe me. If they don't, they'll end up killing the dragonettes, either because they send them to some preserve, where they'll have no one to Impress on their Hatching, or because they destroy them outright.

I'm asking for advice, but I'm not asking for you and Mum to swoop in. I know, Dad, that you'll want to, but I'm only two months from being seventeen. I'm going to try and do this mostly on my own. Oh, I know enough to ask for Aunt 'Mione's legal services, and I'll be needing money soon to feed the dragonettes. I may end up asking for money to buy property and cattle, as well. But I don't want your fame to color things in the public view. I love you both, but we all know how weird the public can get.

Scorpius probably thinks I'm daft for that, but it's how I feel.

I'm telling Humfrey to wait for your response. I could really use your advice, here.

Love,

Albus

Harry sat back, a bit shocked. Dragons with minds, born out of a Potions accident, and entangled with his younger son's heart, and the boy didn't want him coming to Hogwarts to help out? Ginny looked at him after reading Albus's letter for herself. "Merlin, Harry. He inherited more than your looks, didn't he!"

Harry chuckled. "Like my trouble magnet?" Then he frowned. "Not to mention my sense of independence."

Ginny rolled her eyes and smiled indulgently at her husband. "Yeah, shocking, that." She took his hand when he reached for the coffee cup that was quickly cooling on its saucer. "And you have to let him use that, too. He needs us, love, but he doesn't need us there."

Harry looked at her hand over his and sighed, knowing she was right. He remembered all too well his frustration when everyone was deciding without consulting him what was best for him. It hadn't mattered to him whether or not they were correct, only that they didn't think enough of him to let him do what was right on his own. He nodded. "I know. Let me get a quill and some parchment."