The Queen who fell to Earth

by Bobmin356

Forced to compete and abandoned by his friends, he steps from the tent with only one goal in mind, suicide. Instead Harry awakens a power that spans time and space and starts a war between the worlds.

14. Chapter 14

Standard Disclaimer:

Alyx bounced onto the stage and smiled brightly at the audience. She wore a full length apron that was smattered and splattered with bits of red stuff. From one of the wings the audience could clearly hear the sounds of someone groaning in intense pain.

She brandished a sword in one hand and a hammer in the other, both were covered in gore. "Its that time folks! Time for another chapter and time for me to pick a lucky victim... er winner for this weeks 'Help Alyx with her art' contest!"

"WAIT WAIT WAIT!" shouted Bob, running onto the stage.

Alyx turned and glared at him. "What!" she spat.

"I received a message from Supreme Headquarters for International Terrorists!" Bob exclaimed.

"My favorite people! Did you know that invited me back to give another lecture? My talk on two hundred ways to torture people using garden tools was very well received," she said happily.

"Yeah well your demonstration on Ali Ben Shishkabob didn't work out so well. Plus they are complaining that we're giving them a bad name because we don't have a cause and we use sex as a torture method."

"We don't use sex as torture!" she exclaimed.

Bob stared at her, then shook his head. "Did you or did you not force Ron Weasley and Severus Snape to..."

"No! They wanted to do that all by themselves! They volunteered!" Alyx retorted.

"Really? With ground glass shards in the condoms?" Bob asked.

Alyx giggled. "I wanted to make their experience memorable. Besides, that little shit Weasley refused to tell our audience that we don't own Harry Potter or the Dragon Riders of Pern."

Bob sighed. "Well if we don't stop, and if we don't find a cause the folks at Headquarters are going to kick us out if we don't find a cause to champion."

Alyx frowned and walked away muttering dire threats.

Bob sighed and turned to the audience. "I hated to tell her, but now perhaps we can champion free donuts or maybe Llama BBQs."

"I heard that!" Alyx screeched from off stage. "How about championing the right to torture Llama hating husbands?"

"Oh crap, let me start the story for you while I try to calm her," Bob muttered. "Enjoy the chapter."

---

Dragon meat is a well known delicacy. In fact, many of the top restaurants of wizarding Europe offer some of the most exquisite dragon dishes. Dragon meat is shipped in fresh daily from the reserves around Europe, although there is no truth to the rumor that dragons are deliberately culled for their meat. If you ever find yourself in a position to sample it, you'll be in for an unparalleled culinary treat.

Excerpt from Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find them by Newt Scamander. Published 1927.

Flint Manor, Devonshire, May 2nd...

It was late, nearly midnight, but no one heard the sound of one hundred people arriving via portkey. The Flints were one of the families that locked down their manors after calling in the entire family. Roughly fifty to sixty people were living in the manor and the Ministry knew they had been trying unsuccessfully to arrange alliances with other families for several days.

The Ministry knew this because they had managed to intercept a few of the owls being sent out.

Brent Thompson motioned and several men came over to where he was standing, just on the edge of the wards. "Get the warding teams to put up our own wards, then we'll begin draining theirs," he said tensely. He had one hundred men on the assault and another three hundred that made up an outer perimeter, just in case someone tried to come to the aid of the Flints.

It was doubtful that anyone would aid the Flints, but stranger things had happened.

Ten minutes passed in tense silence, then came the sound of a bell pealing from the manor and lights came on. They knew they would detect the anti-apparation and anti-portkey wards the Ministry men were placing, but now it was too late. The Flints would either have to fight off the Ministry, or submit when they finally broke through the wards.

Thompson waved and a team of ten men ran up to edge of the ward and cast shields. Five of the best ward breakers the Ministry could hire from around Europe followed close behind. Between the five of them they expected to have the wards down in a few hours.

Untrained ward busting would have taken days or even weeks, even with war wards.

Spellfire erupted from the manor and it splashed harmlessly against the shields. Then the people up in the Manor switched to Killing Curses. Four of the shielding men dropped before the rest conjured marble slabs to hide behind.

Thompson growled to himself and made a silent promise. There would be no survivors from the attempt of the Flint family to foment a coup d'etat . He'd see to that personally.

Campbeltown Kitchen Hall, May 3rd...

Harry entered the hall and walked over to grab himself a cup of coffee. Yesterday had been tiring and he had spent a good deal of the night working up a plan to address the problems he saw. Taking a sip of his coffee, he walked to the front of the hall and waved to catch the attention of his riders.

"Good morning," he said quietly as those in the hall stilled. "If you're like me, then yesterday was a bit of a shock and it highlighted a couple of major problems. With the sole exception of Hagrid and May, most of us never visited another Weyr until yesterday.

"That's going to change, starting today. We need to visit every Weyr in the world."

He paused and grinned at the stunned expressions that met his declaration. "We need to learn where each Weyr is so we can locate them on a map. We need to know how many dragons live in each Weyr, and if the Weyr is in a dangerous location, like Nevado del Huila, or barely feeding their dragons, like Romeral."

Dan stood in the back of the room and Harry looked at him questioningly. "What will you do if they are in danger, Harry?"

He shrugged. "Honestly, Mr. Granger, I don't know. But I would rather know about a problem developing before it becomes a crisis than to deal with what happened at Romeral. Some of those dragons were ill from lack of food.

"Right now, Hagrid is the only person who has been to nearly every Weyr. We don't really know how many dragons there are world wide, though we guess it's about ten thousand or so. We need to know these things so that we can better help our dragons.

"Yesterday I found myself at a loss. I had a little map with me and I couldn't locate the Weyr on that map, nor did I know there was another Weyr nearby. That meant Romeral had a much smaller hunting range in one direction. Add the drought on top of that restriction and you have a recipe for dragons starving. I won't allow that to happen again."

Harry flipped open a pad which he had been drawing on as he spoke, then he held it up. It was a simple diagram of two circles that partially overlapped.

"A Weyr obtains its food from two basic sources," he said, then he gave them a nasty grin. "They pilfer food beasts from wizard herds. Wizards tend to ward their pasture lands, which stand out like a sore thumb to dragons thanks to their ability to see magic. They also occasionally help themselves to muggle livestock, but I have requested that they refrain from doing so unless it's an emergency. The second main source of food comes from foraging wild animals. That works well in areas where there are a fair amount of animals to hunt, like Africa and parts of Asia and South America.

"The problem is that a Weyr has a hunting range of two hours straight flight time. That's a really big area, and if it overlaps with another Weyr, then no one hunts in that overlapped zone as a courtesy. To make sure this doesn't happen again, we need to know where each Weyr is and how many dragons they have."

"A census and location of all the Weyrs? It's a fine idea, Harry," Sir Robert exclaimed. "I have a portable GPS unit in my office you can use to locate your position on a map."

Draco stood and looked over to Sir Robert, then he turned to Harry. "I'll volunteer my wing to make the census," he said, then he glanced over to Hagrid. "If Hagrid can provide the imagery, we'll start with the nearest Weyrs and work outward from there."

Hagrid nodded. Not that long ago, Draco would have sneered and spat at the half giant, but now they were almost friends, bound by their love of dragons.

"I'll be happy to help" Hagrid said with a bit of a rumble.

"Good man Hagrid," Harry murmured, then he turned to Sir Robert. "Would you get together with Lord Mills and help him figure out what kind of maps we'll need so he can order them? I'd like to have at least one large map for Hangar Two with all of the Weyrs listed on it, plus maybe a few smaller wall maps and portable maps."

Sir Robert frowned. "Are all of the Weyrs located in volcanic calderas?"

Harry shrugged and turned to Hagrid.

"I don' rightly know, to be honest. But it seems tha' most o' the Weyrs aren' in an old volcano. So far, the only Weyrs yeh've seen, Harry, are at volcanoes. But most aren'."

Sir Robert nodded. "Maybe a stripped down topographical map might be best," he mumbled, then he nodded to Harry. "I'll speak to Lord Mills about it."

"Harry?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"Do you recall our talk about visiting Maziang this summer?"

He nodded.

"Why not make it a full Weyr visit to every Weyr? We could still spend a week at Maziang, but spending at least a night at each Weyr would be a good way to promote unity among the Weyrs."

"There is no problem with unity among the Weyrs," Chekiath said proudly. "But visiting each Weyr would make the clans very happy. They know how the Weyrleader feels about them. They can feel it. My rider visiting the Weyrs would make it more personal to the dragons."

Harry stood silently for a minute, his gaze fixed on the floor while he considered it, then he looked up at the others and grinned. "We'll conduct the census still, but I don't see anything wrong with the idea of visiting the Weyrs, perhaps before we go to Maziang. But I think I'm going to add that as a requirement for riders. Hagrid?"

The big man looked up from his large cup of tea. "Aye?"

"It's important that each new rider learn jump imagery. I'm going to suggest that at the end of the Weyrling training, instead of returning to their home Weyrs, we take them on a trip to every Weyr. We'll give the riders cameras so they can build a book of jump imagery, then we'll take them on a tour before sending them home."

"That's a great idea, Harry," exclaimed Remus.

Buckingham Palace, May 3rd...

"Sir Robert and Albus Dumbledore are here, Ma'am," said a man standing at the door.

The Queen looked up and nodded. "Very well. Send them in please."

She closed the file and placed it off to one side. At her request, the PM's office had initiated a search of all of the historical archives so that they could identify the exact role of the Ministry of Magic within the context of the British Monarchy. The search continued, but it was looking more and more like the limited autonomy that had been granted was predicated on conditions now broken.

"Sir Robert," she said with a slight smile. "Welcome. Do sit down."

"Thank you, Your Majesty. You recall Albus Dumbledore," Sir Robert said softly.

She looked over at the wizard thoughtfully for a moment. "Yes, I do," she replied firmly.

Albus nodded a bit nervously and sat down. Like many in his generation, he still held the British Monarchy in high regard, although he had fonder memories of earlier monarchs than the one before him now.

"Mr. Dumbledore, like the family of Harry Potter, we have had our people look into you as much as they can. There are a great many things that can be laid at your feet. Things of questionable nature, sir, not the least of which was ignoring the wishes of parents when it came to the placement of their child."

Dumbledore sighed and nodded tiredly. "Ma'am, the actions of the past are always judged by the perceptions of today. All I can say is that, at the time, it seemed like a smart move. We had a fifteen month old orphan who became an instant celebrity in my world and an instant target for anyone still harboring ideas about pureblood supremacy.

"It never occurred to me that his family would mistreat him. When they started to do so, there had already been two attempts to harm the child from wizards that the wards had stopped. The Dursleys never knew how close they came to death on those nights. Removing him from the safety of those wards would have exposed him to a greater danger.

"As much as I might wish it were otherwise, I know I had a hand in what happened to Harry, both at home and at school. I regret that more than you will ever know. All I can do now is work to make things better between myself and Harry and for his riders."

The Queen nodded slowly. "Yes, we understand you left with those students who went to the Weyr from your school, and have been helping them with their magics, as well as helping my government with our current crisis. In fact, it is only the obvious acts of contrition that have thus far stayed our hand, sir."

The Queen paused and glared at Dumbledore for a moment before her gaze softened. "As you say, they are acts of the past. So let us leave them in the past and talk about how to proceed in the present."

She reached for the file folder from the Home office and opened it. "It is the opinion of our experts that the Ministry of Magic is still beholden the Monarchy. In fact, the experts believe it all revolves around the last official contact between the wizarding world and the Monarchy, with the signing of the Treaty of Lancaster in 1142. Said treaty outlined the Wizarding autonomy and its limits."

Dumbledore frowned and shook his head. "That might be true, Ma'am, but I can assure you that the current Ministry of Magic would not be willing to abide by those limits, let alone acknowledge your authority over them."

"Perhaps not," she replied slowly, "but it does grant us the precedent to enforce our will on those who would break the treaty. Mr. Dumbledore, surely you can see that we stand on the very brink of a civil war if we can not find a compromise acceptable to both sides."

"I can, Ma'am. I have given much thought to that possibility and have tried to give the best advice I can. Sir Robert has shown me some of what your military is capable of doing. I fear we have the ability to hurt each other very much, but I do not doubt the outcome of such a war. Your forces would prevail."

"We find little comfort in that assurance," the Queen murmured.

Dumbledore sighed. "As do I. The price would be terrible on both sides, but the Ministry of Magic is on a course of self destruction but the people leading the charge do not see the disaster they are plunging towards. If they attack the goblins, the goblins will ruin their economy and that would force the wizards to turn to your world to get what they need.

"If they don't attack the goblins, then sooner or later your own government will demand justice for the crimes that have been committed and again we will have conflict. And when you factor in the dragons?" He sighed.

"Yes, the dragons pose some formidable problems themselves. Our government recognizes that they represent a force that we would be ill equipped to fight."

"Begging your pardon, Ma'am, but I think I know the Weyrleader well enough now to say he doesn't want to fight anyone. Were you briefed in regard to the incident in Kenya?" asked Sir Robert.

She nodded. "Yes, Prime Minister Major explained what happened."

"What he probably didn't tell you is that the Weyrleader came back to the Weyr and wept bitterly over having to kill anyone. He is a young lad who could have been a monster, given his upbringing, but I have seen graduates of Sandhurst who don't have as much integrity as the Weyrleader does," Sir Robert said.

"I admit that Harry Potter could have been a monster, but he has more love in him than anyone I have ever seen. It's almost magical. But I have no doubt that Harry will kill again in his life. He is dedicated to protecting his dragons and his friends. Right now the dragons are still being threatened by the Wizards," Dumbledore added. "Harry will do anything to protect a friend. It's only after the fact that his actions will hit him."

The Queen frowned. "We got that impression as well of the young Weyrleader. He carries quite a burden on his shoulders."

"I can think of no person more suited for such a burden, Ma'am, unfair though it may be," Dumbledore said quietly. "Harry doesn't know it, but he's becoming an advocate for all of the non-human intelligences in this world. Dragons are only the tip of the iceberg. Goblins, elves, merpeople, centaurs. The wizarding world has been hiding and suppressing these peoples for centuries. Now the dragons have an advocate, and so do the elves. The goblins have been offered help from the Weyr and Harry is unhappy that they haven't accepted it. I think there will come a time when the Weyrleader will champion the cause of equality for all intelligent species."

The Queen sighed, "And because of his upbringing, he no longer considers himself British."

"Yes, that is true," Sir Robert admitted sadly.

"He never considered himself a wizard either, Ma'am," Dumbledore added.

She nodded. "Yes, he has found his place. He is the Weyrleader of a noble and beautiful race. We have spoken twice now with Narth who leads the dragon guard. The depth of experience his race has witnessed is breathtaking. Equally breathtaking is the loyalty he has for his Weyrleader."

Sir Robert grinned. "As Harry so often says to his riders, dragons are not human, and while they understand a great many concepts and human values, they do not always have human responses. An individual dragon is dedicated to his rider, and to the Weyrleader."

The Queen smiled thinly. Her second conversation with Narth had been about the differences between a Lady Holder and a Queen. She had found it amusing, but quickly realized that, despite their intelligence, there were some concepts that the dragons simply didn't have a frame of reference for.

The Queen looked down at her file for a moment, then came to a decision. "It is our intent to ask our Prime Minister to see that Campbeltown is ceded to the Weyr. As Mr. Dumbledore so aptly points out, the actions of the past are judged in light of the perception of the future. Helping dragons is morally correct. Helping them now will speak to our future and say we did not ignore the plight of an intelligent race.

"The time comes when dragons will be revealed to the world and we will not sit idly by while people argue if they are to have rights or not. When the time comes, we shall stand with our new friends. It is unfortunate that they cannot speak. Radio and Television would go a long way in telling their story."

"Perhaps something can be done about that, Ma'am," Sir Robert murmured. "With your permission, I will look into it."

She eyed the scientist for a moment, then nodded. "Do so, Sir Robert. If we can give the dragons a voice it would help convince the world." She turned back to Dumbledore. "Go back to your students and continue helping them, Mr. Dumbledore. Bear in mind, we are watching and will continue to do so."

Both Dumbledore and Sir Robert stood. Both men bowed from the neck. "Thank you, Your Majesty," Sir Robert murmured, then they backed from the room.

Svartvatn Weyr, Norway, May 5th...

Draco dropped lightly to the ground and looked around with interest. The lake was still and reflected the nearby mountain with a mirror like quality. Snow still lay on the mountain and the chill kept him from pulling off his gloves and helm as he'd done at the other Weyrs they'd visited in the past two days. They were running roughly two Weyrs per day but they had encountered no great problems at any of them.

"Who's senior dragon?" he asked, turning to the dragons that assembled around his wing.

An aging Norwegian Ridgeback stepped forward. "I am Fith, senior dragon at Svartvatn. Welcome to our Weyr. Other than the Weyrhealer, we have never seen other riders."

Draco oriented on the older dragon and bowed slightly. "I am Draco, Sinnath's rider, and Wing leader of Wing three. This is Michelle, Wivaronth's rider, my Wing second. The Weyrleader has asked us to visit each Weyr to count the number of dragons and to make sure your Weyr is capable of supporting your clan."

"We have heard what happened at Romeral, Wing leader. Our Weyr is good and there is plenty to eat," Fith replied.

Draco nodded. "It does look good," he murmured. "But we'll look around anyway, Fith. We have plans to ensure the riders can come to any Weyr in the world. Some of my people will take some pictures of the Weyr from the air while we get a count of your clan. Come the summer, the Weyrleader will bring the Weyr here for a visit. He wants to talk to the senior dragons and look over your Weyr."

"We will be honored, Wing Leader," Fith replied.

Michelle spoke quietly and two of the wing's dragons jumped aloft to take aerial photos, while the others spread out, counting the dragons and recording names. Harry hadn't asked for names, but Michelle suggested it and Draco couldn't think of a reason not to record the names.

Michelle was creating a fact sheet for each Weyr that would contain photos of the Weyr, its position taken from the GPS unit that Sir Robert taught her to use, and the names of the dragons so that they knew who to talk to if problems arose. Each sheet went into a book and when the book was complete, they'd make sure every rider got a copy.

Satisfied that the Wing was doing what they should, Michelle walked over to Draco. "It's beautiful here. So peaceful," she murmured.

"Cold though," he replied. "It's May and they still have a lot of snow here. The dragons don't feel cold or heat like we do, so this is comfortable to them. Hagrid was right. We've visited four Weyrs so far, counting this one, and not a one was in a volcanic bowl. "

He pointed to a series of holes in the side of the hill. It was obvious they were burned out by dragon fire and it was also obvious that they were very new. Prior to their awakening, they had been penned in by the dragon handlers who maintained the reserve. He could still see the remains of the large shed where they processed the culls. Sometime after they had awakened, the dragons had burned the shed to the ground.

"I wonder when they did that?" he murmured, pointing to the new holes.

"It was after the time of the beasts," Fith answered. "When we chased the wizards away, we wanted to be more comfortable, so we created our Weyrs. Being inside when the wizards come back means we can surprise them easier."

Draco nodded. That was another issue he'd have to bring up with Harry. Every Weyr was reporting wizards probing to see if they could regain control. Sooner or later, people or dragons were going to get killed.

Campbeltown Weyr, May 5th...

"James, do you have a moment?" Albus said from the door.

"Good morning, Albus. And yes, I do. Come in," James called from his desk. His work at the Weyr was taking up more and more of his time, so Harry arranged for Momnarth to pick him up every morning he was due to come over and fly him in from the Isle of Arran.

Dumbledore walked in and sat down. "You look a little frazzled this morning, James. Is there something wrong?"

James chuckled and shook his head. "No, not exactly wrong. I went home last night to find May and Trath visiting with her parents and Angus. She had brought Angus one of your magical potions and after he got over his coughing fit from the taste he was a changed man."

Dumbledore arched an eyebrow in surprise. He knew May was studying to be a Weyrhealer under Hagrid, but hadn't realized she was dabbling in potions or dispensing them to normals. "Oh?"

James nodded. "The McNulty's have worked for my family for seven generations, Albus. You would be hard pressed to find a finer or more loyal family. Angus has been the game keeper for my family for nearly twenty five years and his son would soon replace him. If anything, the McNulty's had one flaw in the men. Arthritis usually cripples them first in body, then in spirit. Angus was planning on retiring soon because the illness was that advanced."

James looked unhappy, "I didn't want him to retire. His son would make a good game keeper, but I knew that retiring would kill him."

"And May's potion fixed him?" prompted Albus.

James nodded fervently. He had dreaded the man retiring, considering Angus more a beloved Uncle than a loyal employee.

Albus smiled gently. "One of the reasons why we went into hiding was because we couldn't heal the world. Magical herbs and plants do not grow in abundance, like corn or wheat. Demand outgrew supply, and when the potions couldn't be made, people were killed. Some thought we were deliberately withholding cures but that wasn't the case.

"Use of potions like this to help your immediate family is one of the things we understand a muggle born might do. I'll speak to May and explain that, while she can make potions for her family, they mustn't tell anyone how they became cured. Then I think I will insist she also attend my evening potion tuition."

James smiled, "Thank you," he said softly. The one thing he wanted to know but was afraid to ask was if the wizards could have cured uterine cancer which took his wife five years ago. Some things weren't worth knowing.

"It is a minor matter. Not everything is curable. May's grandfather is lucky that he had a condition that we wizards also contract. Not all diseases and illnesses that you normals catch affect us," Albus said, then he straightened. "James, I came here for a reason."

He passed the paper across the desk. James quickly spotted the article about the Wizarding Defense Force putting down an attempted coup d'etat run by the Flint and McMillan families. The article explained that the WDF continued to search out the other ring leaders of the coup.

James read the article twice, then he looked up at Albus. "What does this mean, exactly?"

"It means that the Ministry is clearing out any opposition it may have in the Wizengamot. The Flints were a large and notoriously dark oriented family, while the McMillan's were also large and mostly neutral, politically speaking, even if they were light magic users.

"I dare say we'll see other families being arrested or killed off in the next few days. The WDF is removing the last stumbling blocks to someone in the Ministry gaining domination."

James frowned. "Won't the people rise up in protest over this?"

"I'm afraid not," Albus replied, shaking his head. "I'm afraid the average wizard will prefer to cower in his home and hope the troubles don't come to his door. The few with the gumption to take a stand end up eventually at the top of society and on the Wizengamot. Families like the Bones, the Potters or the Blacks are the exception, not the norm.

"I think this," he said, pointing to the paper, "is just the first step towards someone gaining absolute control inside the Ministry. What will happen next is hard to say, but I think that once they have consolidated their power base, they will move on the goblins."

"This is insane," James muttered.

"It's only the tip of the iceberg, James. Conditions are destabilizing all over the world. Some wizarding governments can attribute as much as sixty percent of their economy to the production of dragon products. Spain, for example, had a large dragon population and were major exporters of potions, potion ingredients and other dragon products. Both Italy and Greece relied on their dragon exports as well, and there are already reports of tension rising in both of those countries.

"Some countries, like the United States, aren't as affected because their society is more tightly bound to the mundane economy. There are too many wizards in the States for them to allow a totally pure wizard society, so a great many of them live and work in the mundane world. But other, more traditional countries, the European and eastern European nations, parts of Africa, Asia and the Pacific Rim are being hard hit.

"I wouldn't be a bit surprised to see some of these countries declaring war on each other as they scramble for new sources of income," Albus concluded sadly.

"It won't be just wizards," James added.

Albus blinked in surprise. "What do you mean?" he stammered.

"Albus, our economy is heavily dependent on oil for power. There are nations that command world respect and attention because they have so much oil to sell. The PM and I have talked about this several times, wondering what their reaction will be once word gets out that a new energy source has been found. An energy source, mind you, that will have a serious impact on their economies.

"The PM thinks we're going to see a steadily declining world situation in the next twenty years or so. The dragons won't have a serious impact for years still, but it will happen."

"Have you spoke to Harry about this?" Albus asked.

James shook his head. "No, I haven't. He's been so concerned with the safety of his dragons and his riders, I didn't want to add this concern to his worries. Especially since, right now, the dragons aren't causing any problems."

He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Besides, the last thing I want to do is convince him that this age is dangerous to him. I don't want to wake up to discover he's taken his dragons time tripping."

"I don't think he'll do that," Albus said with a smile. "Harry may be a dragon rider, but he's also a product of the time in which he was born. He, personally, has a dragon who could take him back to the time when his parents were killed, but he hasn't done so. He knows the dangers of time travel and respects those dangers."

James looked relieved, then he glanced down at the paper again. "I'll forward this to the PM's office, along with your comments. Thank you, Albus."

Albus stood and gave the man a grandfatherly smile. "You're welcome. To be honest, I find myself looking at the broader picture these days and I find it rather refreshing. The dragons have forced me to look at the world in a new way. I can't believe I missed how connected we all are. Before the dragons, I was concerned with the good of the wizarding world, but that was a myth. The wizarding world cannot exist without muggles, and goblins and even dragons."

With that, he nodded and left James alone with his thoughts.

James chuckled and fired up his computer. It was time to type up Dumbledore's thoughts in a memo to the Prime Minister.

Campbeltown Weyr Hangar #7, Dragon Infirmary, May 6th...

Harry stepped into the large building and absently noted several dragons resting in the stalls Hagrid had set up. Dragons didn't get sick often, but when they needed Hagrid, he was always there for them.

He looked around until he spotted May. She was sitting at a desk, busily scribbling in a notebook. Around her, several other riders bustled about, preparing to feed the dragons. Some of the dragons got sick enough that Hagrid had developed a mix of meat for them to be fed while in the stall. The dragons weren't overly thrilled with the mixture, but they needed to eat and sometimes they were just in too much pain to move around.

Nearby, a radio played contemporary music, which the dragons enjoyed listening to. He smiled at a dragon who was bobbing his head in time to an Elton John tune playing.

"May," Harry called over the music.

She looked up and smiled broadly. "Hello, Harry. What brings you to the infirmary? Is something wrong with Chekiath?"

"He's fine," Harry replied. "Right now he's outside admiring our latest problem. Hagrid returned from Nevado del Huila about twenty minutes ago with a gift from our friends south of the border."

He grinned at her and she immediately became suspicious.

"Oh? And what does this have to do with me?"

"Well, I'm not sure what to do with them, so I thought I'd ask you about them," he replied, then he pointed towards the door. "You're our resident expert on livestock. Come on, I'll show you."

Perplexed, May followed Harry toward the door. As she moved away from the radio, a strange sound assaulted her ears; a sound she'd never heard before. Harry opened and held the door for her and she nearly staggered under the assault of the braying.

She stepped out of the building to find Hagrid standing amidst a field of the strangest looking creatures. They huddled around him as if he would protect them from the dragons, who were eagerly watching the creatures.

"Llamas!" she exclaimed, then she turned to Harry.

"See? I knew you'd know what they were. I thought they were some sort of strange deformed Pushmepullu," Harry replied. "So... erm, what do we do with them? We don't have enough to give one to every dragon and they are all going to want a taste."

May filed the comment about the Pushmepullu away for later consideration. "No, I suppose we don't want to do that. How many llama are there?"

"According to Hagrid, forty seven," Harry replied. "They are kinda cute. They're almost like a giant hairy sheep."

May scratched her head and tried to think. She knew llama wool was a prized commodity, and keeping a herd of llama wasn't much different than other herd animals, but beyond that, she didn't know. She'd have to look them up and find out if they could let them mingle with their herd of sheep.

Harry grinned. "Well, since it looks like you have things well in hand, I'll leave you to it," he said brightly, glad to dump the problem into someone else's lap.

She whirled around to see him walking away and literally growled at him. "Don't move, buster."

He paused and looked back at her. She raised a hand, one finger extended when it hit them.

"Weyrleader, we're in trouble," shouted a voice in his head.

Instantly, every dragon in the Weyr froze.

"Later," Harry said tensely to May, then he turned and ran to Hangar Two with May on his heels.

"Chekiath, inform the riders that I want a full turn out with their bows in two minutes."

"Yes, Harry."

"Buth, tell me what's happening." Harry commanded, then he threw open the door to the hanger and ran to the weapons cabinet, pulling out a bow and a box of bolts. Outside, dragons were bellowing in alarm and starting to assemble in front of the building.

"We were visiting Irtysh River Weyr when wizards showed up. Draco was hit by a spell and we're fighting them. But some of the riders said not to get hit by the green light, so it's hard to fight so many and avoid the light."

Harry frowned. "Is anyone else hurt?"

"No, Weyrleader. Are you coming here?"

"We'll be there in a few minutes, so hold on," Harry replied tensely.

He trotted out to where Chekiath was waiting, climbed onto his spot and holstered the bow. Looking up, he saw Remus watching him with worry.

"Draco ran into wizards probing the Weyr he was visiting. According to Buth, he was hit with a spell, possibly a stunner, but the wizards are using killing curses. They won't hurt the dragons unless a group masses their spell fire, but the dragons are afraid of getting too close, in case their riders are hit. The dragons are reluctant to kill without permission, so we're going to aid them."

Remus looked shocked, but nodded in understanding. "Be careful, Harry," he said.

Harry nodded grimly in return. He turned back to his riders, who were now mounted and looking at him with more than a bit of fear in their expressions.

"We're going for a high altitude arrival, then we'll come in behind the wizards. Use any bolt except for the unpainted and white ones," he said tensely, then he had Buth feed him jump imagery for a high altitude entry. With that, he pumped his fist twice and the two manned wings sprang aloft.

A second later, another two unmanned, larger wings followed them into the air.

Harry waited until they had all joined up before passing the jump image, then he signaled to Chekiath taking them between. The riders followed immediately, then the unmanned wings.

Albus walked over to where Remus stood, still looking skyward. "A bad business," he murmured.

"A rider is down. Since the dragons aren't keening, he's not dead. Yet. Harry will protect his riders and his dragons," Remus said tensely.

"I will go inform Captain Atkins of what's happening. She'll probably want to alert Corporal Stone," Albus offered.

"I just wish we had a real healer here," Remus replied.

"So do I, Remus, but we'll make do. Fawkes can bring Madam Pomfrey if he's hurt badly enough."

Remus nodded at the older man, who spun in place and vanished, apparating to the security office. The council had reluctantly agreed that Madam Pomfrey was coming to the Weyr too often and they would limit her to serious needs only.

Irtysh River, central Russia, May 6th...

Harry and the Wings appeared a moment later over the steppes of Central Russia. He glanced around and took a quick head count.

Nearly one thousand feet below them, streams of dragon fire and curse light arced back and forth across a narrow gully.

"Weyrleader?"

"Yes, Wivaronth, we are above you"

"Michelle says to tell you that there are nearly fifty people attacking. She is very unhappy. Her Draco is badly hurt. We drove them off with dragon fire twice now, but they keep coming back. Michelle wants permission to kill."

Now he understood. With Draco injured and Michelle trying to protect him, the wing must have become pinned down. The Weyr could have just jumped away, but with Draco down, they rallied to help the riders. It sounded like Draco was more than stunned. If he was injured, taking him Between could seriously aggravate the injury.

Open wounds and Between didn't mix well.

Harry winced. Even at his altitude he could hear Sinnath bellow in rage and anguish over his injured rider.

"Unmanned Wings, sweep the outer edges of the Weyr to make sure no wizards are coming from another direction. If you find any wizards sneaking up, use your strongest fire. Wing one and two, on my command, we will sweep south just a little to get behind them, then we're going to jump to a spot above the wizards and behind them.

"Irtysh Weyr, when I say so, I want every dragon to bellow and shoot flame at a low level at the wizards. That will distract them and make them duck," Harry sent.

With a nudge of his knees Chekiath banked and flew in a southerly direction along the river. Harry pulled the crossbow from his holster on his back and threaded a red bolt into the firing mechanism. Around him, twenty other riders copied his movements.

Using imagery from Wivaronth, he passed the jump image to his wings. "Go!" he commanded. Nearly a thousand feet below him, the one hundred and sixty dragons of Irtysh River Weyr bellowed and shot long streams of flames.

Harry and his two wings appeared roughly one hundred feet away from the wizards, who were clumped together behind boulders. He leaned out and picked a target, then fired his crossbow. The sharp twang was drowned out in the dismayed cries of the wizards on the ground.

Harry managed to thread another bolt into his bow as Chekiath swooped low over the Wizards, then he pitched up and banked hard, swinging around for another pass. Both wings followed Harry as if they'd had years of practice. He was pleased to see they had taken out more than a dozen wizards in their first pass. Considering he only had twenty riders with him, and that they weren't very familiar with shooting from dragonback, it wasn't a bad first pass.

Their second pass brought them under spellfire, but they were maintaining just enough altitude to make them a difficult shot for the wizards. Firing again, he allowed Chekiath to bank and turn on his own. He reloaded again but he wasn't sure it would be needed. Irtysh Weyr decided to charge their positions as they made their second pass. Those Wizards still conscious were now cowering under the angry gaze of so many dragons.

Harry ordered the wings to land close to wing three and Draco.

He slid down from Chekiath's shoulders and glanced over to Ronan. "Ronan, take Luna, Hermione, Katie and Wayne and disarm the wizards. Have our wizards revive them and see that you remove everything from them. Get them stripped down to their boxers if you have you. I'm going to check on Draco."

Ronan nodded and started shouting for people. He ignored the noise and quickly turned to spot Draco laying on the ground, Michelle had his head in her lap. The pair sat next to a small boulder that she had used for cover. Sinnath and Wivaronth were close by and it was obvious that Wivaronth was trying to help keep Sinnath calm.

Stepping over to her, Harry knelt down and looked Draco over. There was a nasty cut across his belly and he was soaked in blood. He frowned, Draco was injured and that posed some difficult problems for them. The wound was very long and very bloody, but it was shallow and didn't seem to expose any organs.

May pushed Harry aside, then knelt down next to Draco. She reached into her kit and pulled out a potion bottle and sprinkled some of the contents on the wound.

"I'm learning to heal dragons, not people," she swore under her breath. She pulled a large bandage from her kit to place on the wound.

"Do what you can, May," Harry said, then he turned to where the dragons had corralled wizards.

Walking briskly over to Ronan, he was shocked to see the wizards unhappily disrobing. Luna was prompting them along with her bow and the occasional stinging hex. Ronan had taken the wands and other objects and placed them in a pile near Garanoth, his dragon. There was a sizable pile of wands, rings, bracelets, money bags and other items on the ground.

With a gesture to his dragon, the pile was bathed in fire. The wands caught fire immediately, while the metallic items melted under the heat. A number of wizards cried out in dismay, seeing their possessions destroyed.

"Does anyone here speak English?" called Harry.

"The English? You have no authority here," shouted one man in a thick accent, then he stood and tried to look impressive in his boxer shorts. "I am Sergei Petranovich Danakov, cousin of the Minister of Magic. What right do you have to stop our attack! These are our animals!"

Harry walked over to the man and backhanded him, causing the man to cry out in shock as he fell to the ground. Months of climbing up and down the side of his dragon had given him considerable upper body strength. "You injured one of my riders," Harry replied angrily. "You came here to kill our dragons."

"Harry," Hermione said warningly, then stopped when Harry turned to glare at her.

"Be silent!" he commanded angrily.

"Not now, Hermione," warned Comaloth privately. "The Weyrleader needs to show his strength. I know his actions disturb you, but he's doing this for us. All of us"

Hermione stepped back in shock and a bit of fear. Harry was angry with her and she could tell even Comaloth wasn't happy with her for interfering.

"Who here is senior dragon of this Weyr?" he called after he turned away from Hermione. He was furious that she would even attempt to interfere.

A large Hungarian Horntail limped forward. The dragon looked as if he'd taken several nasty blows with banished objects. He was bleeding from one large wound and limping slightly.

"I am Feynith, senior male of this Weyr," said the Horntail.

Several of the wizards exclaimed in shock at hearing the dragon and their group drew closer together in reaction. The thought that these beasts might be capable of thinking terrified them.

Harry nodded. "I thank you for protecting my riders. Your help prevented a greater tragedy today."

The large dragon bobbed his head in acknowledgment. "We were happy to help the Wing leader and we are honored by your presence, Weyrleader."

"Wait here a moment longer, Feynith, then you can go see May, who will tend to your wounds," Harry said, then he turned back to the wizards. "Your wands are destroyed. So are your portkeys and other enchanted objects. If you return to this place, the dragons will kill you. They have my permission to do so. They also have my permission to leave this place and seek a safer land to Weyr. If dragons live here then this place belongs to dragons and no wizard may walk here without our permission."

"You can't do this!" protested Danakov. The man still clutched his face where Harry struck him.

Harry turned a hard gaze on the man, who fell back in fear. "I can do this," he said coldly. "This will be your only warning. The last wizards to anger me died, so do not tempt me. Now leave this place. You are not welcome here."

The dragons of the Weyr bellowed and the wizards cowered back, cringing away from the awesome sound. One by one they apparated away. Harry waited until all of the wizards had vanished before turning back to the others.

Their reactions varied from Hermione's shock to Ronan grinning at him in approval. Most of the riders seemed satisfied with his actions.

He sighed and shook his head. He wasn't sure what he was going to do about Hermione, but something needed to be done and he was too angry to deal with her right now. Turning, he walked back to where Draco lay.

"May?" he said quietly.

"He needs a doctor, Harry. I'm training to heal dragons, not people. The potion I used should prevent an infection, and I managed to get him to drink a little of the pain killer, but I'm afraid to give him too much." she said, then she leaned back on her knees. "I just don't know enough," she whispered, unhappy with that answer.

He reached out and pat her shoulder. "I'm sure you did fine," he said, then he looked around for members of Wing three. "Lee," he shouted, catching his attention.

Lee trotted over to him. He was a member of Wing three, and had also become rather close with Draco. Harry placed a hand on Lee's shoulder and walked him away from where May, Michelle and Draco were. "Lee, I need to you to return to the Weyr. Speak to Albus and see if Fawkes can help bring Draco back to the Weyr. If he can't, or won't, bring back a couple of heavy blankets and we'll wrap him like a mummy before taking him Between. Also, inform Captain Atkins we're bringing one injured rider back who may need a real doctor."

The council had recommended that they refrain from bringing Madam Pomfrey to the Weyr unless it was a life threatening situation. They were afraid, and Harry agreed with them, that they were putting Madam Pomfrey at risk every time she was brought to the Weyr.

Lee nodded. "I'll be back in a flash, Harry," he said, then he ran to his waiting dragon.

Harry walked back to May and touched her shoulder. "You've done all you can. I'm hoping we can get Fawkes to take Draco home. If not, Lee is getting blankets. Check out Feynith, the senior dragon, please. He was bleeding from a large impact wound."

May glanced down at Draco, then stood and looked around. She spotted the large Horntail and picked up her kit before walking over to him.

Harry sat down on the ground near Michelle and he glanced around. Nearby, Draco's Sinnath crooned to Draco, weaving his large head back and forth. The dragon was clearly agitated by the fact that Draco was currently unconscious.

"Sinnath, he is going to be fine," Harry said firmly. He could hear several other dragons telling the anguished dragon the same thing. "He'll be fine," he repeated, although this time to Michelle. She looked up and gave him a weak smile.

"Do you feel up to telling me what happened?" he asked.

"We were taking the census. We were had finished looking over the Weyr and taking the jump photos. Suddenly, Draco shouted something and pushed me to the ground. He made a funny sound, then he fell on my legs." She looked at Harry and her lower lip quivered. "I didn't understand he was even injured until I noticed my legs were wet."

His eyes flicked down to one visible pants leg and it was stained with blood. He grimaced and motioned for her to continue.

"I rolled him off me and then dragged him behind this rock. It was the only cover around. The Wing riders scrambled onto their dragons and went airborne, then the Weyr went airborne, but Sinnath wouldn't leave Draco and Wivaronth wasn't about to leave me behind. Feynith ordered the Weyr to protect Draco, but Lee shouted something about killing curses. It got all hectic and crazy. I told Wivaronth to call you, but Buth was already speaking to you, then I tried to stop his bleeding."

Michelle looked at him, "Harry," she whispered, "that curse should have hit me."

"He'll be fine, Michelle," Harry replied. "The wound is long, but shallow. I didn't see his guts, so I don't think he took a really dangerous hit. The worst part will be getting him home."

"Weyrleader, White Beard is coming to you with the Firebird."

Harry blinked in surprise, then smiled. "Help is on the way," he said firmly to Michelle.

"Thank you, Soranth. Stay at the Weyr. there are enough of us here to help out," he replied silently.

Harry just started to turn around when Albus appeared next to him. Fawkes had obviously used Harry as an aiming point.

Fawkes leaped into the air and trilled a greeting to the many dragons watching. Many of the dragons crooned a welcome to the phoenix. Even during the age of beasts, no dragon had ever killed a phoenix. Something about the magical birds stopped the dragons from harming them. Several of the younger dragons leapt into the air, following the bird in a complex aerial display of flying.

Albus looked around, then he spotted Michelle on the ground. He walked over and knelt by her side, then he carefully peeled the bandage back. He frowned and shook his head.

Fawkes could have healed it, but he was rather fussy about who he helped. Albus had been with him long enough to know that the Phoenix had some way of determining who to help and not to help. If he was going to help he would have already. Albus took comfort from that fact and figured the wound must look worse than it actually was.

Draco took a sharp breath and he blinked his eyes several times before focusing on Dumbledore.

Albus reached out and pat his shoulder. "Rest easy, lad. You have a nasty cut that I can seal for you."

The old man ran his wand over the wound several times, the tip glowing an icy blue. With each pass the wound closed more until it was finally closed. "It's not as good as Madam Pomfrey's work, and he's still going to need to spend some days in bed I'm afraid, but he's going to be fine."

Albus looked up at Harry. "I used an old first aid spell. It's weak and the wound can easily break open with too much movement. That's why he'll need to spend time in bed. Now, I'll take him straight to the infirmary where Corporal Stone is waiting. "

"I understand. He's on bed rest until you or Corporal Stone say otherwise," Harry replied.

Dumbledore nodded, then he smiled at Michelle. "My dear, I'm afraid you'll need to let go of him now. Fawkes could easily take all three of us, but I think your dragon wants to fly you home."

Michelle blushed and moved away from where Draco lay. Dumbledore reached out and took Draco's hand, then he whistled sharply. Harry stood in shocked surprise at the loud sound coming from the old man.

Fawkes, who had been circling overhead, landed on his shoulder and a second later he vanished in a burst of flame, taking Draco and Dumbledore with him.

"Michelle, take your wing home. We'll follow when we're done here," Harry ordered.

"Sinnath, can you follow Wivaronth home?" he sent.

"To Draco?" asked the unhappy dragon.

"Yes, she'll take you to him," Harry replied, then he turned to Michelle. "Guide him to the infirmary building, but try to help him stay calm. I don't want a thirty five foot long dragon breaking into the infirmary to get to his rider."

Michelle smiled weakly and nodded, then she turned to Sinnath. "Come on, love. Let's go home and see how Draco's doing."

He stood and waited until a rather shaky group of riders had vanished before turning back to the others. "Marty, I want your wing to take the census for this Weyr. If Wing three didn't finish their survey, or gather enough jump photos, we'll come back for them. Also, have some people look for our spent bolts. We'll need to recharge them."

Marty Benson nodded. Turning, he signaled to Hermione and his wing to gather around while he issued orders.

Harry walked over to where May was working with Feynith. She knelt on the ground and was busy slathering a foul smelling yellow paste onto the open wound. Feynith moaned softly and Harry instinctively reached out with his magic to dampen his pain. Feynith's eyes whirred and he looked at Harry.

"Thank you, Weyrleader."

May glanced up at him with a questioning look.

"I dampened his pain with my magic. It won't last long, but it should hold him until you finish up and get a pain potion into him," he said, answering her question. He moved closer and knelt next to May, examining the wound. "So this is the bandage paste you and Hagrid came up with?"

She nodded. "It's nearly impossible to bandage a dragon if the wound is on the body. Even a small cut requiring a bandage would need yards of the stuff." she murmured as she scooped up some more paste from a large jar. She rubbed it into the wound, filling in the hole. "By grinding dragon scales into a powder and using a mixture of epoxy, silica gel and a few other compounds, we created a biologically neutral adhesive. It seals the wound and protects it from infection. In five days or so it will fall off all by itself. By then the wound will be mostly sealed. It'll leave a scar, but dragons aren't all that concerned about scars. Unfortunately, hide is too tough to suture unless we want to use steel wire. Hagrid probably has the strength needed to punch through the hide, but I don't."

She leaned back on her knees and carefully pushed some hair out of her eyes. Her hands were full of the foul smelling goop. "Hagrid and I will come back in a five days and check to see if we need to reapply the adhesive."

Harry picked up the jar of adhesive and examined it carefully. His nose crinkled at the foul smell, but looking up at the yellow paste on Feynith's flank, he knew it covered a hole the size of a soda can. "How does it feel, Feynith?" he asked.

The dragon sighed gratefully and turned his long neck to look at both of them. "It smells really bad, Weyrleader, but it feels much better."

May blushed. "I'm sorry about the smell, Feynith. To be honest, we never worried about the smell until the dragons first started complaining about it. Hagrid and I are already looking into ways of making it less pungent."

Harry reached for a small towel in May's bag and handed it to her. She smiled and wiped her hands clean of the paste.

"This is really good stuff, May," Harry said softly. "This is exactly the kind of stuff we need." He smiled broadly and reached out to gently pat her shoulder. "You and Hagrid should be commended for your ingenuity."

She blushed and looked down, cursing her pale complexion for giving her blush away so easily.

Harry stood and looked around. The Weyr was settling in again. He could see the riders of Wing Two working their way through the Weyr, counting dragons and getting names.

"Feynith, assign some of your dragons to keep watch. If the wizards come again..."

"They just appeared, Weyrleader. We would have fled, but the Wing Leader was injured," replied Feynith.

Harry frowned. The wizards used magic to appear in their midst. With the exception of Campbeltown, not a single Weyr was warded. Harry nodded, then he pulled out a small note pad and jotted down a note. This was a magical problem that required a magical solution, but all he knew was that they needed to ward the Weyrs somehow. It was something else he'd have to worry about and something to bring to the attention of the council.

Campbeltown Social Hall, May 6th, later that afternoon...

Hermione walked into the hall and frowned when she noted a number of people turn to look at her with scowls. She knew what was bothering them, but she wasn't sure how to go about fixing it. Harry had returned to the Weyr with the wings, and then went off on his own, while she got bogged down in putting together the information they had collected for Wing three.

"Hermione," called a voice.

She looked over and noted Karen Khan motioning for her to sit at her table.

Karen smiled at the brunette and waited for her to sit. "Hermione, I don't need to tell you that many people aren't very happy with you."

"No, you don't, but they don't understand."

"No, you don't understand," Karen said, overriding her. "You still think you're dealing with the same Harry you went to school with. He was the boy who let you nag him about studying and doing his homework. He was the boy who let you badger him about following the rules."

Karen leaned a little closer. "But that Harry no longer exists. Or rather, I should say that he only exists under certain circumstances. What you did today was a deliberate attempt to undermine the Weyrleader's authority in front of people we can rightly consider our enemy. And he smacked you down for it."

Hermione stared at the petite girl for a moment, trying to think of a rebuttal, but she couldn't come up with one.

"Harry is one of the most easy going people I know," May said softly, as she joined the pair at the table. She moved over a bit as several other girls also sat down "We deal with him every day and forget that he has two faces he shows to the world. The one we see the most is relaxed Harry, sometimes shy around us, soft spoken, generally a nice guy. The other we see when he is acting in his role as spokesperson for every dragon on the planet. Hard as nails, cold and impersonal, implacable and unwilling to give an inch if it means harm to us or the dragons.

"We saw Harry the Weyrleader when he smacked down Chapman. We saw him again when he met with the Queen. And we saw him today when he struck that wizard and when he told you to shut up," May finished.

Hermione huffed and crossed her arms. "And your point is?" she asked.

Susan Bones sighed. "Merlin, Hermione, you can be really stupid sometimes. You've been on a few dates with Harry, but you're not exactly going steady with him. Today you tried to pull your usual routine of trying to control him like you've always done and he smacked you down for it. To be honest, I'm really surprised that he didn't come back here and put you onto fence painting detail, or maybe herder or shoveling the stalls in the infirmary."

Hermione winced. Harry's idea of punishing riders who'd done something wrong involved nasty jobs. Few liked taking care of the herds of sheep, and no one wanted to be on fence detail. The Weyr currently had four and a half miles of chain link fencing around it. It didn't need to be painted and that's what made the chore so tedious. Harry usually set someone to paint two hundred yards of fencing, both sides and magic wasn't allowed. It was messy and tiring work, but usually it proved the point to the person being punished.

Hermione shook her head, it was finally hitting home. "He's like a monarch of old," she murmured.

"That's right," May agreed. "He is like a monarch when he speaks for the Weyr or the dragons. I didn't like seeing him strike that wizard, but by the same token, I knew he had to act from a position of strength. And you tried to undermine that position in front of our enemies."

Hermione's jaw set and she nodded reluctantly.

"One other thing you need to realize, Hermione, and you better do it soon or you can forget about any future dates with Harry. He is not the Harry you once knew. He'll let you nag him about studying and doing his homework, but there are lines you cannot cross without invoking the wrath of the Weyrleader. Perhaps someday you may earn the right to cross those lines, but I think it should be obvious from today that you haven't earned that right yet," Susan added.

She stood and smiled weakly at the assembled girls. "I think I should speak to Harry," she murmured, then she turned and left them sitting there.

"Will she learn from this?" asked Karen.

Susan shrugged. "If she doesn't, she's going to discover how much competition she has for Harry. We all agreed to let her have a shot at him, but she isn't going to hold onto him this way. She's a very controlling person but Harry won't accept that anymore. He'll accept a partner, but never a girl with a domineering personality."

May nodded thoughtfully. "I don't know. We've talked several times about what the dragons will do to us. I think that when the time comes, it's going to be a very interesting season. And the race for Harry is by no means over with girls."

Campbeltown Weyr, Harry's Quarters, May 6th...

It wasn't until later that evening that Harry returned to the Weyr. No one knew where he had gone off to after the Weyr had returned from Irtysh River.

He sat at his desk, rapidly writing in a small notebook. It was his list of things to do and he had been keeping the list since he first arrived at Disko Island with five hundred and three dragons and a house elf turned kleptomaniac.

The knock on his door made him sigh and he put down his pen. "It's open, Hermione," he called.

She entered, looking a little perplexed by the fact that he knew who was at the door. Chekiath could have told him, but to be honest, he knew it was her. He'd expected she would show up the moment he returned from Disko, where he'd spent the afternoon.

He turned to watch her and she stepped forward a bit hesitantly. It was a pose that struck him as very uncharacteristic for her.

"Harry," she said haltingly, "I'm afraid I owe you an apology. I shouldn't have said anything. I should have waited until we were alone to talk to you about it."

She looked up from staring at the floor and he was surprised that her eyes were glistening with tears. "It's been pointed out to me that you've grown considerably, while I continued to try to treat you like I always have. I had no right to interfere when you were dealing with that wizard and I'm sorry I did."

He leaned forward on his chair and massaged his temples. "I can't tell you how hard this has been for me. I don't like being the Weyrleader and no one, not even the riders, know what it's like to have every dragon on the planet to look out for. You riders are part of my family now and I need to know that when I am dealing with outsiders, I can count on your support.

"Your actions today were minor, but still leaves me doubting you."

"I know," she whispered. "Even Comaloth was unhappy with me. I was shocked when I saw you strike that wizard. It shocked me and I reacted badly."

He nodded and stood, then walked over to her. He reached out with one hand and took her hand in his own. "So where does that leave things?" he asked.

She looked down at their hands for a moment and smiled wanly. "It means I have to learn to do better. I have to learn to trust my Weyrleader and be ready to back him up. But it also means that later, when no one else is around, I may ask him to explain himself to me."

Harry smirked at her and she blinked in surprise. She hadn't noticed before, but he had a definite five o'clock shadow and it made him look several years older. "I'll live with that," he countered. "I have never known you to decide to learn something and fail. But I must warn you; you won't always like the explanations."

She nodded. "I can see that happening and it's something I'll need to learn to deal with. I have no right to question your actions as Weyrleader."

"No, that wasn't what I meant, Hermione. It's all right to question later, or even before. I don't want mindless obedience. But when I'm dealing with people who aren't riders, like today, I need your support, not interference."

She nodded in understanding and Harry smiled at her, then pulled her into a light hug. She wrapped her arms around him and laid her head against his shoulder. She had been so afraid of his reaction to today's events and he had greatly surprised her by acting in a very adult manner to her apology.

"Harry," she whispered.

"Yes?"

"Where did you go today? After we came back from Irtysh River, you vanished until after dinner. I asked Comaloth but she said you didn't want to be disturbed."

He shrugged. "I went to Disko. Dobby keeps my weyr there in good shape, even when I'm not using it, and the solitude and peace gave me an opportunity to relax and think things through. I'm not proud of what I did today, Hermione. I needed some time to settle my anger. Had I stayed in the Weyr there's a very good chance you'd be painting the fence tomorrow."

She chuckled weakly and gave him a smile. "This is a prime example of what I was told, but didn't want to see. You are growing so strong," she whispered. "I wanted you to stay like the Harry I knew because he was safe."

"That Harry vanished when I stepped from the tent and entered the arena to face Momnarth," he replied quietly. That period in his life still troubled him.

She drew back slightly and reached out to caress his cheek. She knew how much that time bothered him and she knew he didn't like talking about it.

"He did vanish, but I still get hints of him here and there. In the meantime, you've become so sure and so strong that I wonder if there is room for me anymore," she countered.

He grinned at her. "There's room, but only you can decide what role you want to fill. The role you once had doesn't work anymore. You say I'm growing strong and maybe I am. But how are you growing? That is what I think you should be asking yourself. We can't stay children forever. Even without our dragons we would have grown up."

She nodded. "That's another change. You were never this perceptive before."

He shrugged, unsure exactly how to answer her. He released her, stepped back and removed his glasses. Sighing, he wiped his face tiredly. "It can't be helped, I reckon. All I can do is try to be the best I can for Chekiath and the others and hope I'm good enough," he replied.

"You're my rider, Harry," Chekiath said from his sand bed, "And you're the Weyrleader. I know you're going to be better than good enough. All of the riders admire you."

Harry shot Cheki a grinned. "Most of them perhaps, but I'm not so sure about Chapman."

Cheki rumbled in laughter. "Kirteth approves of you and he knows how strong you are. That is why he holds back his rider."

Harry nodded and looked over to Hermione, who watched their exchange with a smile. "I never thought I'd have my own cheering section."

Office of the Minister for Magic, May 7th...

Cornelius Fudge sipped at his tea and considered the changes over the past few days. Several prominent Wizengamot families had been taken into custody, but others were still barricaded behind their wards and proving to be most difficult to extract.

He tossed the Prophet aside and glanced over at the report from the Department of International Cooperation. The department was the closest thing the Ministry had to a spy organization and they really did no more spying than what could be read in the publications from other countries.

One thing was patently clear. The international scene was deteriorating quickly. He hadn't considered the international repercussions of announcing the WDF, but the British Ministry was now being copied by nearly every country on the continent. Tensions were rising and Italy and Greece had already managed one small scale battle, with nearly fifty dead on both sides. It was a stalemate and now Italy was also warily watching Spain, which was quietly putting together a large force of its own.

Gringotts had devalued the galleon again. It was now worth only one British pound. When the Ministry tried to protest the value change, the goblins had informed the Ministry representative that only Gringotts could set the value, not the Ministry.

That little tidbit really pissed off Cornelius, but thanks to a screw up, he was forced into dealing with the Wizengamot first. And now, to add to the confusing mix of reports, Dawlish informed him that Alejandro Croaker had been spotted entering a muggle government building.

The only real ray of hope in this whole mess was their recruitment efforts for the WDF were paying off. They now had more than seven hundred members on the force and more were projected to join as more businesses finally folded up, thanks to a lack of dragon products.

He was slowly weeding out the opposition in the Wizengamot. Soon, the only people left in that group would support him without question and he was deep into plans for appointing new members who came from either his own family or people who owed him favors.

He glanced down at his desk and spotted a parchment notice from the Muggle Liaison office. He grimaced and picked it up to give it a brief look over. The memo detailed the receipt of a number of documents from the muggle government, then went on to admit they had no real idea what those documents said. He scowled at the memo and tossed it on the floor. A second later an elf appeared and he banished the offending document.

"Stupid muggles," he muttered. "A waste of my time."

He tapped a crystal on his desk and Percy Weasley stuck his head into the office. "Sir?"

"Tell Delores I want to see her after lunch, then send my secretary in to take some dictation," he snapped.

"Yes, sir," Percy said, then he vanished again.

"I need to light a fire under Delores. We need to finish with this Wizengamot problem," he muttered.

Campbeltown Weyr, May 7th...

Harry walked into the kitchen hall and noted everyone sitting around enjoying their breakfast. He spotted Sirius sitting with Katherine and James and went over to sit with them after grabbing some coffee for himself.

Hermione tracked his movement with an unhappy expression.

Katherine looked up and smiled when he sat down. "Good morning, Harry," she said.

"I stopped in the infirmary this morning to see Draco. Other than being uncomfortable, he's pretty much fine, but the situation got me thinking," Harry said softly. He leaned closer to the others who turned their full attention to him. "We were really lucky yesterday. Draco took a hit from a weakly powered wizard. If it had been someone like Sirius, or even Hermione, they would have cut him in two."

"What can we do about it?" asked James.

Harry leaned back on his chair, then he spotted Hermione looking unhappy and he frowned.

"Comaloth, would you ask Hermione to join me please?" he sent. He hadn't meant to exclude her and didn't want her to think that he was cutting her off.

"Of course, Weyrleader," Comaloth replied.

Hermione paused in reaching for her cup of tea when suddenly she smiled broadly. Then she picked up her tray and her tea and walked over to where Harry was sitting.

"I'm not sure, James, but we have a dentist in the Weyr, so why can't we get someone more capable to set up our infirmary?" Harry replied, then he glanced apologetically at Katherine. "No offense, Captain, your Corporal Stone is a good medic, but if Albus hadn't known that healing spell, we would have brought back a badly bleeding rider yesterday. The only recourse would have been to send him to a hospital."

"But Madam Pomfrey," Sirius began.

"Is quite an excellent healer and if any of our wizard riders wish, I'll help them learn to be healers. But that doesn't solve our problem today. And unfortunately there are diseases which normals get that we don't and we're more likely to see injuries that a doctor or a healer could treat," Harry said, cutting Sirius off. "We also agreed to limit bringing her here because it endangers her."

Harry turned when Hermione placed a hand on his arm. "Harry, my dad is acting as dentist. Is it possible that one of our riders might have someone we could ask to help us? Wouldn't that help with security?"

He smiled broadly at her, then turned back to Katherine and James with an inquisitive look.

The pair looked at each other.

"I don't know but I suppose it's possible. I'll ask around, Harry," James replied.

Harry nodded his thanks, then pulled out his notebook and drew a line through an entry. Hermione glanced over his shoulder and grimaced, seeing he was numbering his action points and he was quickly approaching four hundred. His "to do" list was enormous!

"I hope you're planning on having more than coffee this morning for breakfast," Katherine said.

Harry shrugged. "It gets me by."

"You can't live on that," Hermione said with a frown. "Let me get you something to eat."

He looked at her in surprise, but nodded. A few moment later she plunked down a tray in front of him that contained a lighter than usual breakfast for him, except for one thing. Her roll, which she picked up with a smile. He grinned and started eating.

"Captain, you have files on all of the riders and their families, don't you?" asked James.

She nodded. "We put together files when you told us about them the first time."

"I'll swing by later then and we'll go through them. If that doesn't work out, we'll think of something else," he said.

Harry turned to Hermione. "Tell the others that we'll have a down day today. I want the Wings to stay home, so we'll just hold regular classes. We'll pick up with the census when Draco's released from the infirmary."

She nodded and Harry turned back to his breakfast, pausing only to jot down something in his notebook.

Wing leader's Meeting, Campbeltown Weyr, May 11th...

The Weyr settled into an uneasy routine for several days as everyone came to realize that Harry had been right about the need to learn to use the new weapons. While there were no formal Weyr training exercises, riders filled the firing range so much that Sergeant Nichols had to post formal hours for the range. He didn't want anyone there when he wasn't around to observe and he had only so many hours in a day.

Harry glanced up from the conference table when the door opened and he waved them into the room. He watched Draco sit down a bit slower than usual. "All right there, Draco?"

Draco nodded. "It twinges a bit still but I'll be fine, Harry. Thanks for asking."

Harry nodded with a smile. "I've been thinking about what happened; what went wrong and what went right. Through no fault of anyone, Wing three got caught by surprise. A rider was injured and pinned down. After that, things were a complete mess until the Weyr arrived. We had a full Wing and Weyr involved in trying to protect the downed rider and avoid the spells from the wizards."

He took a deep breath and looked at the Wing Leaders and their seconds. "In short, we got lucky. It's a miracle someone wasn't killed."

"I thought the same thing," Martin Benson agreed. "It didn't help that Wing three was unarmed except for their wizards."

Harry nodded grimly. "Yes, I thought about that also, Marty. We've trained with our bows, but we haven't done nearly enough practicing of in-flight shooting. Our performance was acceptable for that situation, but we need to do better. But more to the point, we need to coordinate better."

"In-flight shooting is just more practice," Hermione murmured. "Coordination is the hard part."

"It is a problem. Only two people that I know of have used their dragons to speak to me. Everyone else is relying on talking to get their messages across. Wing leaders need to work with their riders to get them used to talking to them via his or her dragon. And the leaders need to work with their own dragons to get used to using their links to command."

"Short range jumping too," muttered Ronan.

Harry turned to him. "I'm sorry?"

Ronan placed his fingers against his temple. "It's a visualization problem, I think. We arrived and flew straight until we were south of the wizards before turning around and jumping to the point we wanted to be. Why didn't we just jump to that point directly? If we had given the dragons the right visualization, we would have been oriented in the right direction."

"You were awful high up when you arrived," pointed out Michelle.

"True, but a pair of binoculars would have cut that distance by a lot, and I'll bet there's a spell Harry could have used to the same effect," Ronan countered. "It might even be possible to point to the location and let the dragons take a visual look. They have better eyesight than we do."

Harry blinked and turned to look at Hermione and Draco. Both of them shrugged.

"I'll ask Albus if he knows of a spell, Harry, but binoculars should probably be part of our standard kit. I'll talk to Susan and Mariah about it," Hermione offered.

Harry nodded. Susan and Mariah had been compiling a list of material needed by each rider. They were putting together a standard kit that would be given to each new rider as well as the existing riders.

"Do that," Harry said to Hermione, then he looked at the others. "I don't want to get distracted here, but short range jumping with an intent to change orientation may be a good idea."

The others nodded, but Ronan looked unsatisfied.

"Ronan?" Harry called.

He shook his head. "I'm sorry, I was just wondering why Wing three didn't have anyone still in the air to spot the wizards coming in?"

Michelle looked up. "We'd finished our aerial survey. Everyone was participating with the census to get it done quicker," she said with a touch of anger.

When Harry held up a hand and she leaned back on her chair and took a deep breath, knowing he didn't want the discussion to degenerate into a blame session.

"So, everyone was on the ground when the wizards arrived, and mind you, they portkeyed nearly on top of Draco and Michelle. Even an airborne patrol wouldn't have seen them until they arrived," Harry said soothingly. "But Ronan has a point. From here on, Wings need to maintain a patrol overhead I think. Two dragons ought to be sufficient.

"An air patrol would have given you another degree of freedom in your defense," added Marty.

Harry looked at each of the leaders and they nodded in agreement. From hereon they would always mount an air patrol when on Wing operations.

"One other change I want to make," Harry said slowly. It was the one idea he was worried the most about.

Everyone turned to look at him.

"From here on, if a Wing goes out as a group on Weyr business, I want every rider carrying their bow. I've talked with Momnarth, Chekiath and Spath about making some sort of saddle bag we can stow everything in, but until we have that, we'll go with the over the shoulder holsters and bolt boxes in our pockets. I have bandoliers on order for the bolts, but they haven't arrived yet."

Hermione looked unhappy, but both Draco and Michelle nodded in agreement. It had been their Wing that was caught unarmed and they never wanted to be in that situation again.

"No argument from me, Harry," Draco said finally. "I keep seeing that curse heading for us and I knew we had nothing but dragon fire to protect ourselves."

Martin Benson nodded and Ronan gave him a quick smile.

Harry nodded, understanding Draco's fear. He then turned to Hermione. "Problem?"

She chuckled slightly and shook her head. "No, not really. I was about to complain about going out armed when I realized I'm walking around with a far deadlier weapon nearly every minute of the day. And I know for a fact that I could easily cast a killing curse if I had to protect my dragon."

She shivered slightly and crossed her arms. "It would be silly for me to complain when you've gone through so much effort to make those bows non-lethal. If they could do the same with our wands we wouldn't have half the problems we have today."

"It's a nice idea, but I don't think you'd convince the rest of the wizards to limit their wands like that," Draco offered with a weak grin.

Hermione nodded and looked over at Harry. "No problems from me. I'm not going to quibble over bows while I carry a wand. May might, though."

He nodded, then he stood and walked over to a window. Outside he could see some dragons moving around, and in the distance one of the patrol vehicles used by the security force. He turned around to face his wing leaders and he ruefully shook his head. "I had thought life would be easier. All we had to do was get the normals involved and we'd push the British Ministry of Magic out of our way with their help, but it's not going to be that way."

"Harry?" Draco said in alarm.

He grinned. "We're not a military force and I pray we never will be, but until we can fly the skies without fear from wizards or normals, we must be cautious and work to secure the lives of our dragons and the lives of all the riders to come."

"We're with you all the way, Harry," Ronan replied almost reverently.

Harry glanced at him and nodded, then he saw the others agreeing. It wasn't a perfect solution, but the Weyr would step up their training in fighting. He realized they were writing the one book of lore that Sidraneth hadn't brought with her; how to build Weyrs on a planet that had never had them before.

General Electric Corporate Office, Schenectady New York, USA, May 14th...

Clinton Dewolf was a mid level executive in contracts who managed to successfully juggle a wife, two children and a career without falling prey to the usual pitfalls of drink or other women. In fact, if asked, Clinton had no known vices.

He doted on his wife and attended his sons ball games every chance he could. He also made friends very easily, both in the tight knit community of company employees and around the world as he traveled for the company. He often corresponded with people he had met on business.

He had been earmarked by many, including members of the company, as one who would go far. Perhaps not to the top of the ladder, but he'd make upper management soon.

Unlike others in his position, he never worked on military projects and none of his projects were even considered company confidential. So when he was handed a rush contract by the British Government to build a five megawatt nuclear test station without a reactor core, he didn't think twice about bragging about it to co-workers and friends. It was just an oddity that they saw several times a year and something to chat about with co-workers over the water cooler.

He didn't care. The Christmas bonus he'd get for bringing in this multimillion dollar contract would pay for a very nice vacation for Doris and himself, maybe even a second honeymoon.

It was a minor piece of information which circulated around the company for more than a week before it was picked up on by a man posing as a Russian exchange student working as an intern for the company. He would pass it along in a letter to his family, which in turn would be read by the GRU, the Russian Intelligence Agency and duly noted.

No action would be taken, since the project wasn't military in nature. It was just one of thousands of pieces of information collected every day. Perhaps someday it would become clear, but it was just a puzzle for a handful of GRU analysts to chuckle over while standing around their version of the water cooler.

Confirmation of the strange order would come via email to one of Clinton's friends in Saudi Arabia when he bragged about the strange contract and his hopes that his Christmas bonus would help pay for a week stay in Majorca. The friend, a mid level government worker, thought it was strange of the British to order such an installation and he mentioned it to a friend in the Ministry of Petroleum and Mineral Resources, who in turn found it strange enough to open a file on the item. The Ministry found it odd that someone would build a power station without a power source.

Despite the best efforts of the British Government to keep dragons and the SDTS secret, it was leaving a trail of bread crumbs.

Tuscany Townhouse, London, May 15th...

Not as old as some of the ancient houses, nor as revered as the noble houses, the Tuscany were a new family who'd managed to parley their extensive muggle shipping contracts into a respected wealth and power in the magical world in the mid 17th century.

They were a cross over family, one that started in the muggle world. When the sole heir to the family moved into the wizarding world, he brought the family's financial might with him. Since then, they'd prospered, mainly by maintaining a neutral stance and being open to the business opportunities that developed during the various clashes between the light and dark elements of the Wizarding world.

For the first time in three centuries, the family was threatened, and this time it was from a source they were ill equipped to fight. The Ministry had appeared in force two days earlier and surrounded the town house.

John Dieter Tuscany was the family head and still a robust man, barely over one hundred years old. He was not about to give up without a fight. When things started looking bad, he'd made arrangements, calling in the family and activating the wards on the building. They weren't ancient wards, but they were the best wards money could buy, anchored deep in the bedrock with runes carved from the finest Spanish silver.

Unlike the older manor houses, this house was warded by goblins, who used a mix of defensive and offensive wards, making it much harder to break through. Attempting to drain some of these wards actually resulted in magical backlashes that burned out magical cores.

He had already sent his wife out via a secret passage to a chamber half a block away. It was a bolt hole his ancestor had installed a century ago and it was outside the wards, his and the ones thrown up by the Ministry. It was also a secret known only to family members.

Emily had led the grandchildren to the hole and waited there. With a single wave of her wand, she could activate a portkey that would take everyone in the chamber to their Swiss chalet. Now she sat and worried, surrounded by her grandchildren and their frightened mothers. Every woman in the bunch knew her husband was up in the town house, waiting for the moment when the wards finally failed and the Ministry swarmed in.

She wouldn't have long to wait.

The block on which the house stood was part of a wealthy neighborhood. Most homes on the block were occupied by people who were at the pinnacle of their careers and only a few still had children to worry about. While the block wasn't very active, the street was a busy one, adding to the complications for the WDF. The anti-muggle charms they had put in place were forcing muggles to speed past the block in their vehicles.

The heavy anti-muggle charms laced the area and in front of the house a group of men stood, draining the wards. The ward breakers had gained a lot of experience in recent days and were growing in confidence. They were adequately shielded from the occasional curse that lanced out from one of the upper floor windows.

They hadn't lost a single wizard since their experience with the Flints and they were sure that they would not lose anyone this time.

"The wards are about down, Dad," John Jr. said softly.

John eyed the people out in front from his window and nodded. "Yes, very well, give the signal. We'll meet up at the tunnel entrance and head to the chamber."

He turned and met the eye of his oldest son. "I am so sorry, John," he said softly. "This was all supposed to be yours someday."

His son grimaced. "As long as we get out alive, I'll be happy to rebuild somewhere else."

John smiled grimly. Without realizing it, his son had echoed the family motto of "Never falter".

Three minutes later, John counted the men as they entered the tunnel. Once he was sure of his count, he activated a offensive ward tied to the front door of the house, then he summoned his family elves.

"Nicki," he said to the head elf, "we're fleeing. Bring yourself and all the other elves and their families to the chalet. You must hurry. You have less than five minutes to leave the house."

Nicki looked up at the kindly master. The family had always treated their elves kindly and he was no exception. "Yes, master," he said, his huge eyes filling with tears. Most wizarding families would have simply left their elves behind.

John nodded and hurried into the tunnel.

Nicki carefully sealed the entrance behind his master, then he snapped his fingers and vanished.

The Tuscany family disappeared a few moments later, having escaped the Ministry clutches. Meanwhile, the WDF members had reached the front door and inadvertently triggered John's ward.

The townhouse exploded with a force equal to several tons of TNT. It leveled the block, killing many of the Ministry personnel, including their ward breakers. It also killed or injured more than a hundred normal people, including a school bus full of children.

It would be several days before anyone outside of the Ministry of Magic realized that the explosion hadn't been caused by a ruptured gas main. And the Tuscany family, once they learned of the extent of the explosion, were horrified by the deaths of their muggle neighbors. The house had been built and warded long before the other houses in the neighborhood, and no one had thought much about the old wards erected two centuries earlier and the possible repercussions of their activation.

Harry's Office, Campbeltown Weyr, May 19th...

Harry stood over the printer that had been installed in his office. He had played with it for a bit and had learned how to use it for simple things. Ronan had even shown Harry how to look up things on the internet. As a result, Chekiath's space was now dotted with fantasy dragon art he had printed from various websites.

Much to his mortification, Chekiath had pointed out that he had printed out dragon pictures that usually included scantily clad blondes and brunettes. His only defense was to claim that Cheki picked the pictures to print. Both Harry and Ceki knew that wasn't entirely true.

A knock at the door cause him to glance up. "Come in," he called.

Remus and Sirius stood in the doorway and watched as Harry pulled the single sheet of paper from the printer, then he walked over to his desk and signed it with a flourish.

"What are you doing, Harry?"

"I'm writing a letter to Ragnok, reminding him of my offer. It's been a while and frankly I'm getting worried," he replied, then he carefully folded the letter and placed it on his desk. "Dobby?" he called.

The little elf appeared and smiled, seeing Harry.

Harry picked up the letter and handed it to Dobby. "Would you deliver this to Ragnok? Please give him my regards, then return home."

"Dobby will!" he replied, then vanished.

Harry turned to the others. "So, what brings you here?"

"I wanted to talk to you about Sir Robert's plans," Remus said as he sat down on a chair in front of Harry's desk.

"And I'm here to listen in and offer my sage advice," Sirius said proudly as he sat down next to Remus.

"Sage?" Chekiath said. "Sounds tasty."

The dragon started to rumble with laughter and Sirius shot him a sour look. He was certain the dragons were waiting to catch him as Padfoot.

Harry chuckled at Sirius' discomfort, then he turned his attention on Remus. "So, what about Sir Robert's plans?"

Remus leaned forward on his seat and pulled out a small pad. "On Monday the first of the construction crews will start work. According to Sir Robert, they're going to be removing the fencing in the northwest corner of the Weyr and pushing it inwards by a couple hundred feet. The new replacement fence will be twenty feet high and should block the view of the Weyr. Sir Robert thinks it might not be a bad idea to replace it all with this new fencing, but that's a topic for another time. Once the fence is in place, they'll break ground on a new building to house the test station."

Harry nodded and made a note on his own pad. "I'll speak with the dragons and remind them that they need to remain unseen. And while your here, Sirius, I'd like you to get together with Norendrath and start putting at least one rider with the Weyr patrol. We'll add more as we bring in new riders."

Sirius nodded. "I'll get on it today."

"Sir Robert also has a question and frankly I don't know the answer to it," Remus said.

Harry looked up from crossing out an item in his list about the patrol. "Oh?"

"Can dragons read?"

Harry blinked and leaned back in his chair, surprised by the question.

"Of course we can read," Chekiath said from his stall. He lifted his head and looked at the three of them, his eyes twirled with streaks of green. "Harry taught me to read, and while he does read some very dull things, occasionally he reads a very interesting book. That book on all the ways to cook dogs was very amusing. I don't understand why one would cook a dog, though. They are bite size, you know."

Harry ignored Remus' laughter and Sirius' sputtering. "I taught you to read?" he exclaimed.

Cheki rumbled and his large hard dipped in acknowledgment. "We're bonded, Harry. What you know, I can learn from you. Every time you picked up a book, I learned more. I've seen enough words now to know I can read them."

Harry mulled over that for a moment. "It makes sense, I suppose."

Remus nodded. "Yes, and it will make things easier, I think."

"Just what is the problem, Remus?" asked Harry.

"During the conversation that Albus and Sir Robert had with the Queen, they discussed how difficult it will be to convince a television audience of the dragon's intelligence. Sir Robert was asking about reading because if a dragon can read, then they can use a letter board to spell out replies to queries."

Harry leaned back and considered that problem. "This is all predicated on when we finally release news of the dragons to the world?"

Remus nodded.

Harry stood and walked over to his bookshelf and pulled down the almanac that Emma had given him. He fumbled through it for a few minutes, then he tossed it aside. "Damn. All right then, if the dragons can read, then maybe we can set up some way for them to respond into a computer so the message can be seen by many people. But I think it would be even better if we had an idea of how many people the dragons could talk to at one time." He turned to face his dragon. "Cheki, do you have any idea?" he asked.

The large dragon's eyes tinged with yellow and whirled slowly. "I don't know," he said hesitantly. He didn't like not being able to help his rider.

Sirius shrugged. "It's got to be at least as many as we have here. We've held several meetings, which included all of the riders and a good number of non-riders, in Hangar Two. We've had no problem hearing the dragons."

Harry nodded. "Yes, I can buy that."

"What are you thinking, Harry?"

He shrugged. "I just thought that if we needed to, we could send a dragon representative to a government to speak to their versions of the Wizengamot. Like sending Spath to talk to Parliament."

Remus made a note on his pad. "I'll speak to Sir Robert about it."

He paused when a knock came at the door.

Harry turned and gave Remus an apologetic glance. "Come in," he called.

Dumbledore walked in looking very unhappy. He was as pale as his beard and clearly very upset about something. "I have grave news," he muttered.

Sirius bounced out of his chair and steered Dumbledore over to it. "Sit, Albus. Rest a moment," he said.

"Dobby," Harry said.

The little elf appeared and looked at Harry. "Fetch some tea, please, for the Headmaster.."

Dobby nodded and vanished, then reappeared a moment later with a hot cup of tea. He handed it to the old man, who gave him a weak smile in thanks.

Albus drank his tea and closed his eyes for a moment while everyone waited anxiously.

"Minerva sent me a clipping from the Prophet explaining that the Tuscany family have been declared outlaws. They joined the ranks of the MacMillans, Flints and Abbott families that the Ministry's WDF were attacking. But then, I remembered visiting their home in London some forty years ago for a ball. It was a marvelous affair and they had these wonderful chocolate mints in the shape of a Christmas tree."

Albus leaned back and smiled in remembrance.

"And?" pressed Remus.

Harry and Sirius exchanged a look. Leave it to Dumbledore to remember the sweets from an event held forty years ago.

"Do you recall James talking about that gas explosion in London a few days ago and the tragic deaths of so many people?" Dumbledore asked in a pained voice.

"Yes, it was a terrible accident," Harry murmured. He had watched the news reports on it. The fire alone raged for hours before it was controlled. It was only afterward that they started to realize the scope of the disaster.

"It was no accident," Albus said. "The Tuscany house was on that block. Fawkes took me there a little while ago and there was magic residue on everything. There were Ministry people all over the place, reinforcing the gas explosion idea. Minerva also said that there were rumors that the Tuscany's were responsible for killing over fifty members of the WDF, including their elite ward breaking team."

Harry looked up sharply. "You weren't spotted by anyone from the Ministry, were you?"

Albus seemed surprised and he shook his head. "No, I was able to keep out of sight easily enough."

Harry nodded, his expression relieved. "It was important that you discovered the Ministry's involvement, but by the same token, you took a big risk, Albus. We really can't afford to lose you now. Next time you need to go somewhere like today, talk to Momnarth or Norendrath so we can keep an eye open for trouble," he said quietly. He stood and reached for his flight jacket. "James needs to know, but he isn't in the Weyr today, so I'll pop over to Arran and pick him up."

Remus nodded grimly, while Chekiath stood and walked over to the pressure switch that lifted the wall. He walked out with Harry close behind him.

As the wall closed, Albus sighed and wiped his face tiredly.

"Are you all right, Albus?" asked Remus.

"No, not really. I'm sitting here marveling at how foolish I was."

"Foolish? You?" Sirius asked in disbelief.

"Foolish," Dumbledore said, peering over his half rim glasses. "In the first war against Voldemort I thought it was an acceptable thing to risk the people I had helping me. Harry is beginning a totally new war, but he believes no one should be risked. He knows there will be losses, but he works to minimize them without even realizing he's doing so. It is a different way of leading than what I practiced, and yet it seems so right now. His riders would follow him anywhere. The loyalty he displays is returned by all of them, and not just the riders."

"I'm not going to say I told you so, Albus," Sirius said softly in reply. "Your problem was you couldn't see beyond your plans. You ignored the relationships of the people helping you and took unnecessary risks. James, Remus, Lily and I had a loyalty to each other that should have rang alarm bells when you thought I betrayed them. Harry's way might not always be right either, but right now it's what we need."

Remus reached out and pat the old man on the shoulder. "You made some mistakes, Albus, but even Harry would agree that you've worked hard to correct them."

Albus nodded, then he slowly stood. "I'll keep on working to correct them. I suspect it will consume the rest of my life, but when I finally meet Harry's parents again I want to be able to look them in the eye and say 'I tried to fix my mistakes.'. I'll go to James' office. It will be easier to hold this conversation there."

When he turned and walked from the room, Remus and Sirius exchanged a worried look.

"He is trying," Remus said.

"I know," Sirius replied. "But sometimes I get so angry at him for what he did."

Remus shrugged. "He's working on it, Siri. It's all he can do at this point."

"I know," grumbled Sirius. "Lets head over to James' office. I think it's going to be a long and uncomfortable meeting."

Remus nodded and the two exited the office.

One of the principle tenets of the Weyrleader and dragons everywhere was that they were not bound by nationalistic priorities. The Weyrs were an independent entity and not obliged to follow the orders of any national government. This policy was tested on several occasions by various governments, and on more than one occasion, forced a Weyr to relocate to avoid conflict.

Excerpted from The Weyrs of Earth by Remus John Lupin, published 2040.

---

Author's Notes and Mockeries:

- And now, for something completely different. We are coming down to the end of the first part of this story. Yep, you read right, the FIRST part of the story. In order to maintain our weekly publishing schedule when this part is completed, we'll start busily working on part two and probably not publish anything for a month or two. I want to get at least eight or ten chapters ahead before we start publishing again. We'll do the same process when we get to the end of part two and start part three. Yes, three parts.

- Yah some people dinged me on my comment about making things realistic in a story concerning dragons and magic. (shrug) Its not my fault if they couldn't understand I was referring to the relationships between people and not the dragons and magic. The same goes for those that reviewed trying to fit Between into modern physics. I mean really, folks... remember magic and dragons. If magic were even remotely possible, physicists would have their brains explode.

- Snape, again. I apparently hit a live nerve with my comments about the man. I won't say he's universally hated, but he's greatly disliked in the universe. So now it's a matter of trying to understand why there are so many slash stories where Snape has an illegal and immoral relationship with an underage boy. (Please note that the immorality here refers to the age difference).

- A lot of people are unhappy with Hermione. Hell, she married Ron in canon, what is there to be happy about? But seriously, Hermione is a bright girl who is socially stunted. Do not expect her to grow up overnight that just isn't realistic. Our Hermione has a bumpy road ahead, but seriously, isn't that what growing up is all about?

- Librarywitch, in nearly every story, someone has had the experience of snorting tea/coke/coffee/beer and just about any other liquid through their nostrils, spraying their keyboard/monitor/laptop/spouse/pet. So you're in good company. Enjoy!

- Tutenstein, we'll try to keep the sappy parts to a minimum, but I'm afraid we grew up in an era where stories had some intrigue, some cute and touchy feely stuff, some politics, and then finally we get to the boobs and exploding cars. I'm afraid that if I omitted the other stuff I'd get confused and end up writing about groping cars and exploding boobs.

- A couple of people took exception to the way Major tried to get around the Royal writ, but the simple fact was they are gearing up for a potential conflict. The Queen's writs were for two purposes. It's a clear sign of support for the Weyr and the people there. It was also the right thing to do and she understood that Major would approach their use carefully so as to not tip the government's hand.

- jgkitarel, thank you for seeing what so many have missed. I had thought it was pretty clear. I'd send you a cookie, but if I HAD a cookie, I'd eat it myself!

- Belladonna16 once blew up a Weyr in an Pern RPG by erupting the volcano it was using. I don't want to give away the story, but I will say volcanoes will play an issue here. Fortunately not all Weyrs are in old volcanoes. Nice shooting Bella.

- Shiro-wolfman-k, you are very right. But I'm also ahead of you here. Yes so far they have been exposed to muggles that accepted them, that will not always be the case and while you won't see it in Part one, it will appear later in the series as their exposure to others increases.

- And finally I'll close off these notes with a story recommendation. Anything by Genkaifan, but I am most fond of 'Poison Pen' and 'Quote the Raven nevermore.' (Not to be confused with the broadway flop of 'Quote the Rabbit'.)