Midnight Confessions Chapter 26: Mighty Dragons.
By alloy
Prologue:
Garath McGowan had farmed in the shadow of Weasley Mountain for thirty years. Before that his forbears had enjoyed the Weasleys as neighbours for more than an eon.
In general it was an amicable arrangement. They encountered each other once or twice a month along their common border; pleasantries would be exchanged, and the weather would be discussed. At Christmas there were token gifts.
The McGowan's were a prosperous family. A thousand golden summers and the sweet water of a mountain that the world refused to acknowledge had garnered them the sort of wealth that doesn't need to be displayed. It was this wealth that enabled them to retain their holdings despite obscene taxes and the onslaught of the modern world.
On his seventeenth birthday, Garath had been invited for dinner to meet the patriarch of the Weasley clan and a trust had been laid upon him. It was the price of McGowan success, the guardianship of an ancient secret.
Garath had never before seen a car on the track leading through his fields to his neighbours abode.
Horses…yes, and shimmering silver horned creatures and drakes, the unofficial guardians of the path, dragons and creatures he could not name.
It was the drakes that worried Garath; they had been restless of late even to the extent of wondering on his lands in search of silently screaming shadows. Garath had no idea how they would respond to the car.
Not well it seemed, as the little red vehicle was engulfed in dozens of the miniature dragons. As the car door opened, Garath reached for the charm around his neck.
The sight of the lanky redhead eased his worries. Casually the young man began to shoo the drakes off the path. Soon he was joined by the driver, a jeans clad young woman with wild chestnut hair who took a considerably more cautious stance to the obstruction.
"Ronald," came a voice from behind him, "My cousin Arthur's boy." The deep rich voice belonged to his neighbour Donovan Weasley. "The lass, his wife, Hermione."
The girl was bolder now 'shooing' with more vigour.
"They've come to stay a while."
Garath felt a reassuring hand on his shoulder and Donovan stooped to match his height.
"Be cautious of strangers my friend, we're expecting no more guests, and
family are not likely to be making inquiries of you."
"I would know your family, Donovan," Garath replied. "I know who belongs on these lands."
Donovan nodded and his eyes fell upon the charm. "Keep it hidden, Garath, but always to hand."
Mighty Dragons.
Harry.
It took a while for Harry to realize that he was jealous, a while longer for him to realize why.
The Den was not the Burrow. Harry thought of the Burrow as home now, and Molly and Arthur treated Harry like one of their own. But Donovan and Sally Weasley while greeting him in friendship had treated Harry like a guest with all customary Weasley hospitality.
Harry was used to that, used to sharing that status with Hermione, but now…..
Hermione Weasley had been invited into Sally's kitchen, Hermione Weasley was subject to good natured ribald teasing which made her blush and grin at the same time. Hermione Weasley gave as good as she got, confident in her status as family, as a Weasley.
Hermione Weasley had stood in and amongst Firedrakes with impunity shooing the dangerous magical creatures from their path, while Harry had sat trapped in the small car seething with frustration.
Frustration which had not eased at learning that he was confined to the garden of the Den… while Hermione…
Harry watched Ron take Hermione's hand, lead her out the house toward the gate and path that Harry was forbidden to traverse, leaving the garden, the garden wet with rain.
Ronald.
Ron was grateful for the bright moonlight. While he had walked this path before, he had not done it often. Ron smiled, not nearly as often as Charlie anyway.
Hermione had hesitated at the garden gate. "Is it wise?" she asked.
"Not still worried about the Drakes, Luv?"
"No…Ron…I just don't think it's sensible to wander about at night under the circumstances…." Ron knew his grin was going to get him into trouble. "There's a war on, Ron."
"Hermione…"
"Don't laugh at me, Ronald!"
Ron forced his face straight. "This is Weasley land, Luv.
"I know, Ron, and I know you can raise those wards, but that won't do much good if they're already inside."
"There are the Drake's, Hermione…."
"Yes, Ron, I know. The Drakes won't harm me…."
"Almost all the Drakes in England live on this mountain, Hermione."
"Oh…." Ronald enjoyed the expression of realization on his wife's face, and took his blushing wife's hand again and concentrated on the path until they found themselves by the lake.
"Godric's Lake," he said proudly. "Formed when they took the stone for Gryffindor tower."
Hermione shook her head. "Why take stone form so far away, Ron? A thousand years long before trains or trucks or…..oh magic…"
Hermione.
Ron's laughter echoed into the night but Hermione didn't have the heart to be angry. Ron's shirt lay on the ground, and he stepped out of the trousers pooled around his feet. Hermione enjoyed the sight of his firm bare buttocks as he burst into a short run and dived into the lake.
Hermione glanced subconsciously around. A bright burst of flame illuminated a copse of trees to her left.
Drakes, a mountain where only a Weasley could walk with immunity.
"Are you coming, Mrs. Weasley?"
Hermione shrugged. This mountain was as safe a private place as she and Ron would ever find.
"It's not cold, Hermione."
It wasn't, and Ron's arms around her weren't intended to keep her warm. Hermione allowed Ron and the water to support her while they slow danced until a shadow fell over the moon.
The twin splashes signalled that they were no longer alone.
Hermione shrieked, as the taller of the two intruders emerged naked in a veil of darkness.
Chris.It took Chrysanthemum Weasley a moment to register that Godric's Lake was occupied, a moment to grasp the notion that Charlie's brother may have brought his wife up the mountain. A moment to analyze Ron's grin and sink back into the water using her raven hair as curtain.
The dragon above them uncovered the moon.
"All grown up, Ronnie."
"Ah, huh."
"Pervert!" Charlie grunted from behind her. "What would Mum think of Ickle Ronnikins bringing his girlfriend to a cold mountain pond to skinny dip?"
"It's really rather warm," Hermione murmured.
"And Hermione's my wife," said Ron.
Chris found the possession in Ron's voice really rather sexy.
"'sides," Ron continued. "Can I tell Mum why you're here?"
Charlie reached across and grasped Ron shoulder. "My married brother has a nice comfy guest bedroom. I have Chris's father kissing me goodnight on his study couch."
Hermione giggled.
"He's not a small man."
"Oh shush, Charlie, Da's a teddy bear."
"Now if little brother could vacate the cold mountain pond, and relocate his cozy guest room… Chris and I can….
"Charlie!"
Charlie shrugged. "Chris…"
"Little Brother?" Ron grabbed Charlie's wrist, and dove backward yanking Bill Charlie with him into the deeper part of the lake.
Chris and Hermione withdrew to the shallows. Chris glanced at the younger girl. Hermione's lips slightly parted, her gaze intent and Chris turned back to the naked swirling mass of red hair, freckles, and muscle, as the two brothers, older and younger wrestled in the water, their friendly combat punctuated by rasping gasps for air.
A hand found Chris's wrist, "Should we be enjoying this so much?" The younger witch asked.
Chris laughed. "Who cares," she said.
"Who cares!" Hermione echoed.
Charlie.
While Ron certainly couldn't match Charlie's stocky strength, in the water his wiry frame evened the odds. Eventually Charlie flung him off. "Peace," he gasped, "Peace."
Both brothers drew desperate lungfuls of breath. From the side of the lake a smattering of applause drew their attention back to the young woman.
"What do you think of her?" Ron asked earnestly.
Charlie glanced up and then back at his brother. "Stop fishing for compliments, Ron." He chuckled, "Better suited than any Brown girl."
Ron shook his head vigorously. "Lets not go there, Charlie….Or I'll be forced to tell Chris about the another Brown girl."
Charlie patted his younger brother on the shoulder "Let sleeping dragons lie, Ron, for Merlin's sake let them lie."
"Is that it," shouted Chris commencing a scattering of applause to which Hermione joined. "That can't be all….."
"Encore," Hermione shouted hopefully.
"Oh she's Weasley, alright," Charlie muttered. "Listen, Ron, if we play our cards right….."
DonovanThe moon would set soon, making all paths up the mountain dark and treacherous. Not that it mattered, Ron and Hermione had returned almost an hour ago and Chrysanthemum could navigate every inch of the mountain blindfolded had Charlie not had a dragon at hand to fly them about. It was down the valley that Donovan cast was gaze from his bedroom windows.
There were more than young lovers abroad this night, more than family for whom Donovan was fearful, and neighbours whom he regarded as family.
Darkness was abroad.
Epilogue.
The moon shone down the valley allowing Garath McGowan, as he sat on his porch, a splendid view of his holdings and his neighbour's mountain.
He was aware of cloaked figure making his up the path and was singularly unsurprised when the man revealed himself with a theatrical flourish.
"It's dangerous to wander about in these hills," Garath said, even as the man opened his mouth.
The man gaped once, and then turned into a sneer. "I'm the one who's dangerous."
"Hmmph."
"I want to know about strangers old man. Strangers around the mountain."
"What mountain?"
The man's eyes narrowed. "That mountain," he said, "Weasley Mountain."
"Only seen one stranger hereabouts."
"Yes?"
"Looking at him."
Anger flashed over the man's face, his eyes narrowed. "Then you're of no…"
There was a fleeting look of surprise as the he was flung backward by the shotgun blast.
Garath stood, calmly broke the barrel, extracted and replaced the spent shell even as the man writhed, sending his death rattle into the air.
There was a rustle in the bushes off the path. Garath swung the shotgun around.
"I swear Mr. McGowan, I haven't been near your orchid at all today."
A tall form immerged from the bushes, the freckled face familiar despite fresh scars, dragging another cloaked figure behind him.
"And your cousin Jasper?"
There was a soft crunching sound and another redhead appeared chomping on an apple. "You're not here by yourself, Uncle Garath? Are you?"
"He's not," Garath smiled wryly as his brother Gabriel stepped out of the house.
"We've sent the rest of the family down to Brighton," Garath said.
Bill dropped the body alongside the shotgun victim. Glancing up his cousin, he extracted his wand and tapped them both causing to them to dissolve into dust.
"There may be more."
"We've more shells."
Jasper took another bite of the apple. "Just don't shoot us," he mumbled. "We'll be around."
"Steal more apples and I just might."
In response, Jasper cheekily tossed an apple to Bill.
"You could go down to Brighton."
"Hmmph"
"We know who belongs on these lands," The younger McGowan said.
"We're glad of it," Jasper Weasley replied.
The four men stood, wizard and muggle, as the moon dipped below Weasley Mountain and causing a shadow to fall over them.
"We're glad of it."
To be continued…..
Next : Signs and Portents