The universe contained herein belongs to J.K. Rowling. The original characters and plot are mine, and my responsibility.
No dragons were harmed in the crafting of this story.
Please feed the hungry, hungry dragons. And the equally hungry author. Who has lately been taking her reviews with a bit of mulled hot cider and a pumpkin pastie. Try it. Quite yummy. *tosses a few to the dragons, who slurp them up eagerly, then demand more* Uh oh...
Skylark's Dragon Part 7
In late January, Stewart returned from a trip into town pale, shaking with cold, and nearly incoherent. Finally, they got out of him that Dementors had been in town, and that he had barely landed before the dread cold of it nearly overcame him. He'd barely had the strength or awareness to get back on his broom and fly away, keeping low so as to avoid being seen. Apparating had been out of the question – he simply hadn't had the strength.
"What were they there for, though?" Henry asked, voicing everyone's question.
"Vampires," Jamie said. "I'll bet he's trying to recruit the vampires." There was no need to clarify who he was.
"With Dementors?" Jamie asked skeptically.
"No," Roberto said. "He'd have sent his Death Eaters here, and the Dementors probably followed. They do his bidding now."
They sat in uneasy silence for a while before Roberto said, "We'll have to increase our patrols in that area… any area near towns… anyplace we know vampires to be living. If he's going for vampires, it might occur to him to use dragons."
"How?" Sky challenged.
"If in no other way, to frighten and intimidate, but there are ways to capture and control them – after all, the vaults in Gringott's are guarded by dragons."
"But they're chained. What'll he do with chained dragons?"
Roberto shrugged. "Who knows what he'll do… what powers he has by now?"
Unanimously, they agreed to patrol the northeast border and strengthen the wards there, then proceed to strengthen the wards around the entire reserve – this time, not only to keep the dragons in, but to keep intruders out – and set them to alert them to any breach coming into the reserve.
Their inability to safely contact anyone back home was increasingly worrying, though The Prophet and The Quibbler continued to be empty of any specific threat. Potterwatch, though, continued to report deaths, disappearances, and known movements of Death Eaters and Dementors, as well as to dispense practical advice, much of which was bloody obvious, in Sky's opinion, and attempts to boost morale.
February arrived with bitterly cold winds and blizzards that kept them mired in one place for days that blended into weeks, too dangerous to fly or Apparate – the latter of which could set off avalanches, the crack of it echoing off the mountainsides. They could not even risk the flight to town, so huddled in tents, kept cozy by warming charms they renewed every morning and evening. Charlie continued to work with Sky on reaching out to dragons without becoming dragon-lost. Together, they kept track of the Romanian dragonets, facing their first winter, counting mind-touches as if they counted noses, reassured by the fact that the number remained the same, morning after morning, and by the strength and warmth they felt in each contact.
The third week of February, they woke to a brilliantly clear sky. After eating a hot and hasty breakfast, they packed and shrank the tents and set out to check their charges and the wards around the reserve. Stewart, Charlie, Sky and Henry headed to the northeast, where they could check the Chinese Fireballs, stop in town for news and fresh food, and head west along the northern edge, before rejoining the other three in two days. Before they left, Roberto reminded everyone of emergency signals and survival methods, in case the weather did not hold, or they ran into a situation with the dragons that either group could not manage alone.
They found the Chinese easily enough, surprisingly, and spent a half day assuring themselves the group was complete and well, then turned east toward town. It was eerily quiet, compared to their other visits, and Sky whispered to Charlie, "Do you think the Dementors are still here?"
Despite the clear affiliation with dragons their garb signified, and the fact that each of them had visited the town repeatedly in the past few months, the townspeople seemed to view them with suspicion and hostility, Sky thought. They conducted their business in silence, and narrowed their eyes suspiciously without responding when Sky and Stewart tried to make small talk or ask if anything was wrong. Sky thought she was just being paranoid, but Charlie gestured them curtly to cut their business short, and once out of town, nodded when Henry said, "That was weird!" It made them uncomfortable enough that they pushed further northwest than they had planned, simply to put distance between themselves and their discomfort.
Uneasy, they decided to check the Fireballs again. The next morning, they flew back to where they had seen the dragons, and landed to allow Charlie and Sky to catch the feel of them so they would know in what direction to take their search. When both Charlie and Sky faced back north and east, they exchanged puzzled looks.
"That'll take them back toward town," Stewart observed.
"North of there, I think," Charlie said, looking to Sky for confirmation. At her nod of agreement, they prepared to backtrack, bearing closer to the northern boundary. Charlie held up a hand before they kicked off. "Be careful," he said. "Something doesn't feel right about this."
Stewart and Henry nodded grim agreement, and Sky swallowed a sudden fear that caused her stomach to clench. Charlie was right: something was wrong.
...oooOOOooo...
If they could have used muffling charms, or disillusionment spells, or had invisibility cloaks, they might have taken a different approach. As it was, they reached the northeast corner of the reserve to find the wards breached and dismantled. They overflew the dragons, mere specks below them, then circled slightly lower, puzzled by the odd flashes of light in the dragons' vicinity, wondering why the dragons stayed, rather than fleeing whatever it was.
It was magic, they realized after a while, the cold flashes of it bouncing off the dragons' tough hides at times, hitting their marks – the dragons' softer underbellies – far too often. They watched from high above, and realized the dragons were being herded closer to the boundary of the reserve, outside of which, they would be beyond the dragon handlers' protection and aid. There was no doubt they had to put a stop to it, whatever was going on.
They pulled back and hung in the air, not wanting to even take the time to land in order to plan, and decided that Sky and Henry would draw off as many of the attacking wizards as they could, allowing themselves to be seen, and Apparating away if they were in danger of being caught or directly attacked, while Charlie and Stewart would try to stun or otherwise incapacitate whoever was left with the dragons. Charlie sent off the "help" signal, and the four of them exchanged grim looks. Disconcertingly, Charlie nodded at Henry, kept eye contact with Sky and said, "You're in charge, Sky. Don't get mind-lost!" Henry merely nodded and turned to Sky. "Ready when you are," he said.
It did not matter that she did not feel anywhere near ready to lead… anything. There was no choice, no time. A glance below showed spurts of fire dangerously near the border between Romania and Moldova, where the dragon handlers had no authority. If the Chinese Fireballs were to be kept safe – and out of Voldemort's hands – they had to act now.
"Come on," Sky said, and with a glance at the others, dove for the northernmost of the flashes of light.
So intent were the Death Eaters on the dragons – with good reason, given the fight the dragons were putting up – that Sky and Henry practically had to fly in front of their noses before they were detected. Sky dove between one Death Eater and the Chinese he and six others were attempting to contain, and the wizard gave a startled oath and fell back, tripping over a small boulder. The Fireball bellowed its challenge at Sky, thinking her some small dragon threatening its territory, and spouted a swath of flame fifty feet long. She felt it coming, though, and flew at an angle to the beast's snout, so that only the tips of her broom and the edge of her robe were singed, though she felt the blast of the heat in her boots. Henry, behind her, circled between the dragon and the other five Death Eaters, evading shouted curses due to his speed and the fact they had caught the Death Eaters by surprise. Once they recovered, though, the fight began in earnest, and Sky and Henry began a careful dance that drew a number of Death Eaters further from the dragons.
"Sky!" Henry yelled. "Tell him to attack the others – that his weyr is under attack! Get him to help!"
Dodging red and green bursts of magic, Sky struggled to split her awareness – the mountainous terrain, the Death Eaters and their curses, the Chinese Fireball they had tried to free… Help! shethought at it, unable to articulate more than that. Help!
It was enough. The dragon roared in rage, and yanked so abruptly at the chains surrounding him that they snapped and fell with a clank to the rock. He turned his immense bulk, and his tail took out two Death Eaters, sweeping them from the mountainside, their screams echoing as they fell. A distant crack suggested that at least one of them had had the presence of mind to Apparate away.
"Sky! Watch your tail!" Henry yelled, and a bolt of something whizzed past her shoulders as she instinctively swerved. She forced her broom into an impossible turn, heading back the way she had come, back toward the dragons and Henry, barely cognizant of Charlie and Jamie's brooms and spells joining the fray. One by one, she and Henry freed the dragons and turned them into the fight, while Charlie and Jamie held the Death Eaters off.
The muscles in her shoulders and arms were burning from the constant yanking and pulling to swerve or turn to avoid spells, dragons and cliffs that made maneuvering tight and treacherous. She turned again and again back into the fight, her wand out now, shouting "Expelliarmus! Reducto! Stupefy!" and anything else she could think of, her shouts joining those of the others, Death Eaters and dragon handlers alike, the bellows and roars of the dragons adding to the noise and the fury. It was chaotic; keeping track of what was going on was nearly impossible. Suddenly, a Death Eater swerved between her and Henry, as Henry chased after another who was casting spells at the smallest of the Fireballs. She watched in horror as the Death Eater raised his arm to point his wand at Henry's undefended back.
"NO!" she screamed, and leaning forward, rammed her broom into the Death Eater's back. The jarring of the contact used up the last of her strength, and her hands slipped from her broom just as a flash of red from another direction hit her squarely in the chest. The world went black, and she knew no more.
...oooOOOooo...
Something brushed at her mind, and she waved it off. The mind-touch came again, insistently. She tried to say something, but it came out as a moan. Voices rose and fell around her, sounding urgent. The dragons… She struggled to open her eyes, to move, to no avail, and something pressed her painfully down into whatever surface she lay on. Time passed, and the mind-touch was always there, watching, supporting, soothing, worried. Don't worry, she thought at it, and felt something in return.
Voices again.
"… breached the wards?"
"I don't know. I don't know, Roberto. We checked. They were just… gone. No alarm, no nothing."
"Could one of us have accidentally dismantled them?"
"Or on purpose?" That was Stewart, Sky thought, his voice tight with suspicion.
"What? Who'd do that?" Jamie.
"What are you suggesting?" Daniel, admonitory.
"She's Slytherin!" Stewart again.
"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" Henry.
"She saved Henry's life, you arse! Take it back!" Jamie again.
"That's enough!" Roberto, uncharacteristically sharp.
"She's been with me every day," Charlie's voice said from over Sky's head. "Just when do you think she'd have had the chance?"
"You can't watch her every minute," Stewart argued.
"I'm in her mind! Every time we train, I'm in her mind! You think I wouldn't have seen?"
"Would you see if you weren't looking for it?"
There was silence a moment, then Charlie said, "There is nothing in her mind – nothing – that suggests anything but good intent. She… her mind is full of dragons and worry and fear… Even off-guard, her thoughts are of work, and school, and…" Charlie did not continue, and Sky found her thoughts drifting to what else Charlie might have seen in his forays into her mind. Images of his silhouette against the night sky, his hands, their sure, firm gentleness… the way he moved… the way he flew… the sound of his voice… the warmth of his thigh next to hers as they ate dinner, the scent of him as they worked a dragon together, the warmth of him at her back as he taught her not to get dragon-lost… Charlie filling her thoughts more and more… And Snape and loss and confusion and overwhelming sadness… She drifted to sleep, a mind-touch like a warm caress. I'm here… rest, Sky. Heal. I'm here.
She woke again to the sounds of dishes, pots and pans, the smell of something good, the rumbling of her stomach, and the sensation of a full bladder. She went to sit up and pain lanced through her back, making her gasp and bringing tears to her eyes. Instantly, a hand touched her forehead, and another pressed her gently back down.
"Not yet, Sky. You're not ready."
"What…?" she managed to rasp out, her throat sore.
The owner of the hand came into view, and she was not surprised to find Charlie looking down at her. He sat on a chair he waved over to the side of the bed.
"Sorry you're still in pain. We had to find Skelegrow – didn't have any in camp, and there wasn't any in town, either. The delay… it means it'll take longer for you to heal. You're nearly there, but Daniel says another couple of days…"
While he talked, he leaned forward, both elbows on his knees, hands clasped between them, searching her face. She tried to keep the pain from showing.
"Let me get you a pain draught."
"No," she said. "Bathroom."
He looked chagrined at that, and took a wand from his sleeve. "Ah… as to that… you can't move yet, so we've… If you don't mind… It's just safer for you…"
She looked at him in confusion, and he looked away, a red flush growing on his fair face. He waved his wand while muttering "Evanesco!" and she felt an abrupt relief of pressure. Her eyes flew to his and then away as she suddenly realized what he had done, and she felt herself redden as well. They sat uncomfortably for a moment before she finally found her voice and said, "Perhaps you could teach me that…" He nodded without looking at her, then stood, turning away.
"You should be hungry."
She nodded, then realized he wouldn't see it, and said, "Yes – please."
"You'll have to make do with broth and tea today, I'm afraid. Get you used to food again…"
She was confused. "How long…?"
Charlie hesitated. "Two weeks."
"Two weeks?" She was stunned. "Two weeks?" she repeated uncomprehendingly.
Charlie moved off to the kitchen area. "You were badly injured," he said, and she could feel him holding something back.
"How badly?"
He didn't respond.
"Charlie, how badly?"
He returned to her side with a mug of something that smelled like broth, from which stuck a straw. "You can't sit up. You'll have to sip it. It's only warm – not hot." He held the straw to her lips, refusing to let her hold the mug.
She glared at him. "Charlie – how badly?"
He met her eyes steadily and said, "You fell onto a boulder… you broke your back."
"I what?" She nearly sat up in alarm, and pain lanced through her back again. The last thing she heard as she passed out was Charlie swearing and shouting for Daniel.
...oooOOOooo...
The next time she woke, it was dark. A soft light came from behind her, illuminating someone sleeping in a chair at the foot of the bed, covered in a blanket. Jamie. She stifled a sigh of disappointment, and when she tried to shift to a different position, discovered she was lightly held down with some spell – to prevent her from sitting up, she realized. Taking the hint, she forced herself to lay still. Her slight movements must have been enough, though. Jamie stirred and sat up, and seeing her awake, asked, "How are you?" his voice a whisper in the quiet of the night.
"Fine – I think," she said, testing her body, taking inventory, waiting for pain. "Stiff. I want to move."
"Better not. Daniel says two more days. You scared the dragon piss out of Charlie earlier." He smiled.
"Is he alright?" she asked, stifling the urge to sit up in concern, again.
Jamie laughed. "Well – if you can call shouting loud enough to startle half the dragons of Romania, and shadowing Daniel's every move like a dragon on dinner until Daniel threatened to stun him senseless 'okay', then yes – he's fine." He smiled affectionately. "I sent him to bed. He hasn't slept more than an hour here and there for days."
"I'm sorry – I'm so sorry. I screwed up."
Jamie looked startled. "No, you didn't. You did great! You were great in the fight, and you were great with the dragons – and you saved Henry's life. I owe you for that. We all do."
"I remember a flash of red…"
He nodded. "Stunning spell. Charlie took out the Death Eater who shot it at you."
"We know they were Death Eaters, then?"
"Some of them, at least, and others obviously in You-Know-Who's camp."
"So we were right – he came for the dragons."
They were silent a while. "It's heating up, isn't it – the war? It's getting worse."
"Yeah," Jamie said quietly. "But don't worry about that right now, Sky. Just get better, okay?"
"Anything on the radio?"
"Nothing new."
"So Harry's still out there, then… and Ron and Hermione…"
"So far as we know, yes." She could hear the hope and fear in his voice. "Go to sleep, Sky," and he murmured something in a sing-song voice and she faded away into dreams of Harry Potter, Fred and George Weasley, her old Head of House, Charlie, and dragons.
Two days later, Daniel slipped an arm under her shoulders and helped her slowly to a sitting position, while the others stood around in various states of anxiety and relief. Charlie repeatedly chewed on his fingernails while Jamie and Stewart nudged him into stopping. Roberto sat at her side, earnestly watching for any sign of pain on her face. When she winced, Charlie started forward, but he stopped at a look from Daniel.
"It's okay. I'm just stiff, is all," she reassured them. She was shaking and sweaty, but Daniel handed her a rejuvenating potion, which countered that in short order. Daniel began massaging her arms and back to help with the stiffness, while the others breathed sighs of relief. She stood long enough for Daniel and Roberto to help her to a chair across from the bed, shocked at her weakness, but Daniel assured her it was simply due to disuse of muscles. Now that she could be up and about, as well as take potions without assistance, she would recover more rapidly.
The next few days were filled with exercise, alternating with rest. She was rarely alone. The dragon handlers took turns staying with her while the others went out on patrol, and she realized it was more to help in case Death Eaters penetrated their camp while she was stationary, than to keep her company. It was urgent she return to flying as soon as possible, so they were less vulnerable, as the Death Eaters who escaped would have made the attack known to Voldemort. They had to be mobile. So it was that four days after sitting up, Sky stood between her tent and Charlie's, astride her broom, trying to get her body to remember how to kick off. She felt like a squib – or at least like an eleven year old at her first flying lesson.
"Makes perfectly good sense, Sky. Don't worry about it. It'll come back to you – muscle memory," Charlie reassured her as she tried for the third time to kick off. She was terrified. It felt like she had lost a part of her magic. Charlie sensed her fear. "Sky…" He put a hand over hers, which clutched her broom desperately. "Let me help."
"How?" she wailed in despair.
"Look at me," he ordered, and when she did, they slipped into each other's mind with an ease that left her breathless, and she recognized the mind-touch that had lulled her to sleep during her recovery. "Like this," she felt, rather than heard, and it was simple, then, to move with Charlie, into the air, circling the camp just once before settling back down, the whole of the short flight spent in each other's mind. When that contact was severed, she practically cried out in protest, but Charlie's warm hand on her shoulder reassured her of his continued presence. "Let's do it again – on your own this time," he suggested, and they kicked off easily, a flight around the camp and then off a ways to check on the dragonets, nearly as large as their mares now.
...oooOOOooo...
Once Sky was mobile, they moved camp, too anxious about possible retaliation by Death Eaters to stay a moment longer than necessary. Sky slowly rebuilt strength enough for longer flights and for apparating, Charlie hovering protectively at every new attempt. The warmth of that grew on her so that she came to count on it, and she sometimes found herself leaning into his warm, muscled body when they sat at dinner, or during their nightly meetings.
He allowed it, one arm behind her, his hand tracing small circles on the small of her back or twirling a lock of her hair around his fingers. Then Stewart would stare or make a sound, and he would remove his hand, though he never shifted away from her.
They saw no more sign of Death Eaters, but the townsfolk continued to be wary of them. Spring arrived with agonizing slowness in the upper reaches of the mountains, though the sky remained mostly clear. Other than the one devastated weyr, the dragons weathered the long winter well. Each time they visited the Swedish Shortsnouts, Charlie led Sky carefully into contact with Garth, and she would emerge from that mind-touch to find his eyes glittering at her strangely. When she asked what was wrong, he would blink, tell her she had done fine, and turn away, Stewart's eyes following him. Sky wondered what he was keeping from her.
Once Sky was strong enough, Roberto split the group again. He would have preferred to split Sky and Charlie up, since both could send a Patronus in case of emergency, but after a private consultation with Charlie, he relented and left them together with Jamie and Henry, while he, Daniel and Stewart made up a second group. They made the rounds of the weyrs again and again, spending days with each group, checking the dragons' health. All continued to be well. Once, when the two groups reconnoitered, Daniel explained that they stepped up the pace in spring to account for the mating seasons of the various species, and that their patrol followed the sequence in which the dragons came into season, doubling back to catch the Welsh Greens and Swedish Shortsnouts more frequently, as the smaller dragons bred earlier, to give the offspring more time to grow and strengthen before facing the next harsh winter.