STEALING THUNDER

Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

AN: Sorry for the late update. But I was busy on the weekends and I basically wrote like 70% of this chapter just today. 344 favs and 477 follows! I didn't expect this story to reach that number, at all! I started this story as nothing but a way to rid the plaguing thought that was going in my mind regarding the plot, but here we are now, 50k words! When I first started this story with 3k words, I really thought that I would end up dropping the story somewhere around 15k words or so. I would like to give a shoutout to a review that pointed out that I failed to utilize the opportunity to create a deeper setting for the family, and yes I agree. But still, bear in mind that this is my first ever attempt at writing, so maybe tolerate my failure a bit? I'm grateful for your supports, and the reviews! I won't be here if not for the reviewers, especially!

The shrill sound of whistling train filled the air.

Soon enough, the massive scarlet came down to its stop, its pacing quickly halting as it neared its destination. It was none other but the famous and historical Hogwarts Express, the steam locomotive engine that was chosen by a former Minister for Magic, Ottaline Gambol, during her reign in the early 19th century, of which it was stolen, or rather, acquired, from the British muggles in what apparently was a large-scale operation involving one hundred and sixty-seven Memory Charms, as well as the biggest Concealment Charm ever performed in Britain.

The gleaming engine stopped in its track as it reached its destination, the Platform 9 of the King's Cross Station. And the change in the air was noticeable, and a sense of fleeting serenity took over the moment.

But, of course, that didn't last long. For soon, the station was swarmed with new arrivals. The doors of the train opened simultaneously, a hand on its handle or a sticking head would be visible first for the crowd that had been waiting at the station.

A blonde boy of 9-year-old stood at the platform, eagerly awaiting a person that would soon arrive from the train. The boy schooled his features as best as he could, although one could easily tell his fidgety from how often the boy would be tapping one of his feet to the ground below, where he was standing. A hand was rested on the boy's shoulder for the sake of offering comfort and encouragement. The hand belonged to a man in his middle-age who was dressed in a fine livery, his gold hair standing out quite a bit among the large crowd. The other hand of the man perched in too, a shoulder, although this one belonged to an older person, a woman who looked nearly the same age as the man, hair bright and eyes blue.

All in all, the group of three didn't stick out too much, considering it wasn't that large of a party, and the lack of any ruckus behaviours, or something like that. Albeit there was one particular detail to pick from the group, and a rather telling one, at that. It was visible enough for everyone since they hadn't made any effort to cover or hide it up. This distinctive feature belonged to the lady of the group, more specifically, to the obvious bump in her stomach, even if slightly covered by a resting hand courtesy of the woman herself, indicating the pregnancy of the said woman. To further paint the picture of their happiness, matching smiles were seen on their respective face, lips stretching out to form a welcoming, and expectant smile.

The three of them had their sight set on the swarm of people descending from the train, eyes searching for a particular person from their household. It was proving to be a slightly difficult task, for what laid in front of them could be described as none other but a sea of people, a sea of heads, different hair colours of black, brown, and many more.

From the direction of the disembarking crowd, a boy with eyes of honey-gold made his way through the chaotic horde where people shared hugs and joyful embraces.

"'Ri!"

The 12-year-old snapped his head in the direction of the coming voice. His sight trailing until settling their gaze on a younger, smaller boy, although of similar appearance. He had just allowed himself a smile when he was struck as a body made its way to his own, tackling and embracing him at the same time.

"Hey, I told you I'd be here now, didn't I?" asked him as he found himself ruffling the hair of the boy that was currently locked in a hug with him.

"Of course, I know it, silly….." answered the young child as his face turned a little bit embarrassed, if the slight reddening was any sign.

His gaze turned to the other two figures walking behind the boy, "Father. Mother," he said as he nodded in their direction.

"Darius. Welcome back."

"Mm."

Darius shared a hug with his mother, and with his father, he relented with the rubbing of his shoulder by his father's hand.

"M-mother, y-you…."

"Congratulations, it seems that you will be having a new sibling, Darius."

"I, uh, I…. that's great, I suppose... But, why did you hide it from me?" said Darius as he sweated just the slightest bit.

His father flashed him a smirk, or more like a knowing smile, "We know. And technically, we didn't hide it, we just didn't tell you, now, did we?" said the eldest blond in their family, "It's still new. The healer said it has only been three months. So we decided to keep it quiet for now."

"We're going to have a sister!" said an excited voice.

Hearing this, Darius turned his attention to his younger sibling and gave him a playful smile, "And how are you so sure?" he asked.

"I just know!"

"Oh, really? Don't tell me you're a seer, now, brother?"

A short bark of laughter cut their interaction, "Hah! Your brother has been most eager ever since we told him."

"Oh yes, I believe Ernie said that he wants to be a knight that will always protect his new sibling, no?" interjected the lady of the house.

Mortified, the youngest member of the family had his face quickly contorting into a pout, "Mother!" he said, visibly annoyed, both from his voice and his expression.

"It's fine, dear…"

"Well, if anyone is going to be a knight, then it will be me. After all, I have learned much from Hogwarts!" said Darius with a single purpose to further annoy his brother.

But it didn't turn out as he expected it to be. For instead of scowling further, Ernie's face had lightened up, mood changing in an instant, "You must be really strong now! You have to teach me, 'Rius! Please, please!" chanted the young boy as continued his plea and begged the older blond.

Amused by the reaction, Darius raised a single eyebrow, turned and then he said to his brother, "Why, of course, I'm strong, I always am!" in a playful tone as he saw an opportunity to continue his tease.

The reunion of the family, however, was cut short as another group had made their way towards them. A girl with hair that was the spark of an ember fire led the retinue of two older figures behind her, one a woman, easily the oldest of the group, and the other, a man, a couple of years older than the girl

"Mother, this is my friend, Darius Macmillan, and his family, the Lord Gerald Macmillan, Lady Elizabeth, and his brother, Ernest."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Minister Jenkins."

"Minister! It's such a pleasure, indeed, to meet you. Ah, my heart is warm to see my son gaining such a great friend in the form of your daughter, he had told me that much in his letters."

"Likewise, Lord Gerald, likewise. And my daughter, too, had written the same to me. Oh, and are you?" she trailed questioningly, motioning to the current state of Darius's mother's stomach. And with a nod of confirmation, she continued, "My congratulations, then. It's always a delight to see the continuation of our proud legacy. I, myself, am content and have enough with Agatha, here, and his brother, too, of course."

To which the pregnant lady herself answered, with a gracious smile, "You're too kind, Minister."

As the adults were caught in conversations of their own, conveniently ignoring the presence of the younger children, Darius and Agatha exchanged a sheepish smile that was mixed with a grimace.

Eugenia Jenkins was a proud witch of 58-years-old. If one would take a look at her and her daughter, they would easily conclude that her daughter had heavily inherited her features, with the auburn red hair standing out the most. Her eyes had begun to wrinkle, and so did her skin, even if only just a slight, roots of grays could also be seen, vaguely, indicating her mature age. Despite that, she carried herself well and proud, indeed. Her posture was still that befitting of someone that once commanded the highest authority in the British Wizarding World.

She rose to the peak of her career during her reign as Minister for Magic in the year of 1968. She was a half-blood, and thus some of her policies were not welcomed much by the traditional purebloods, for instance, the many riots and protests of the purebloods in the late sixties. Those riots happened particularly due to the suavity and languorous stance of the ministry in dealing with the action that was known as the Squib Rights Marches, to the point of the Ministry of Magic itself arranging deals and betterments following the appeals and negotiations with the figures of the movements. That, however, was deemed a glaring weakness by the purebloods, the fanatic, and the traditionalist, who chose to revolt. But even with the dealing of both the riots and the marches, Eugenia Jenkins stood her office still.

She held it until the year of 1975, 5 years after the First Wizarding War of Britain was unleashed when open warfare and rebellion ravaged the country as the self-proclaimed Dark Lord Voldemort revealed himself to the world. Although managing to hold it for quite some time, Minister Jenkins was deemed incapable and lacking to deal with the ever-growing power and presence of the Death Eaters. As a result of that, she was ousted by the office to be replaced by Minister Harold Minchum. But of course, her 'retirement' from the office did no guarantee of her safety, nor her family. Minister Jenkins was one of the many that had lost someone, taken from during the time of the grueling war. For her, it was her husband, Donnel Grafton, in the mid-1977, just a few months short from his daughter's birth, to the hands of the notorious Death Eater, Evan Rosier.

"Oh- dear me, where are my manners?" she asked herself, "This is my firstborn, my son and heir, Elbram Jenkins."

With that, she brought forward the man that was previously standing behind her. Although man may not be the absolute choice of a word. Elbram Jenkins was 19-year-old, and he was a tall figure. He had pitch-black dark hair, slightly curled, and light-tanned skin. His face, though, was one with the feature of a boyish look, quite different from how the rest of his figure cut a different impression.

After the common pleasantries finally died down, the two groups continued to exchange interactions with other topics, with the adults mostly engaged in the various dealings and concerns of ministerial businesses. Meanwhile, the children, too, were caught in their own conversations.

"So you're the one who caught my sister's eyes, huh?" asked the son of the former minister, eyebrows raised. and eyes squinting a little as he turned his gaze and set his sight on the 12-year-old Macmillan heir.

Mortified, Agatha soon interjected with a cry of, "El!"

"Eh, Agatha is a good friend, and I considered her as such."

"Ah, purebloods, ever so diplomatic…" trailed the oldest 'child' in their group as he shook his head.

With a coy smile and lightful tone, the lone girl said, "I'm sorry, my brother is not known best for his manners."

During the 3 months that Darius had spent in Hogwarts, he had weaved a deep friendship with the redhead of a daughter of the former minister. After all, Agatha herself didn't seem to connect much with the rest of the girls in Hufflepuff, so most of the time, she would find herself in the company of Darius and Cedric as the three of them would frequently be, although the gap of the friendship among the two boys and the girl herself is still quite large and noticeable, even to the outsiders.

"Where's Ced?" asked the blond boy of 9.

"Eh he had already left with his parents, they rushed off to attend something, I'm afraid. But knowing him, he'll probably visit in a day or two. Don't worry. There's nothing to miss, Ern."

After a beat of awkward silence, Elbram decided to try another path, "So, got plans for the holiday, yet?"

"We do, actually. Father is intending to visit the Hebrides Islands, next week."

"Hebrides? Would you, truly?"

"Yes. And after all, our family hold a small retreat there."

"That's interesting. The Hebrides, huh, always want to try to ride a dragon myself. But I heard that the Hebridean Blacks are particularly nasty, especially for lordlings, no?"

With a frown, Darius answered, "Don't know anything about riding a dragon, myself, but for me, a holiday on the isles seems like a good thing to welcome."

"Well, suppose you won't know much now, will you?"

"How about you guys, then? Any interesting plans? I believe Agatha said something about visiting France?" replied Darius who opted to divert the topic as he tried to avoid and crushed his annoyments within.

"Oh yes, perhaps we will meet a veela, there."

"A veela? They said that a veela looked like an angel, is it true?" asked Ernie from the side, excited.

Elbram let out a little laugh at that, face amused, "Beautiful, yes. But angels? I don't know about that."

"Whoa, 'Ri, we have to see it, too!"

"In due time, Ern, I'm sure we can plan for a holiday trip outside of the country for summer, next year. It will be most interesting, don't you think?"

"Sure!" cheered the youngest boy.

"What do you think we should do?"

"Err, the easiest and safest bet for us would be to arrange a betrothal between our houses, I guess… . Marrying off a distant cousin or a member of the branch would be ineffective since what we want is the control of the islands, so, maybe Uncle Henry? He is still unmarried, after all. Although I doubt he would agree to our plan easily."

"You're right. That will be the easiest way. But I'm afraid your Uncle Henry has taken himself a liking in America. He says that he very much so enjoys the company he could find there, despite the fact that he's there to build bridges with the MACUSA."

"A… liking? A woman, then?"

"You can say that. Now, back into the topic at hands, what is your second choice, your alternative?"

"Well, in truth, the MacFusty is kin to us. Both of our houses descended from Scottish blood, and there was a time when a Macmillan and a MacFusty held the most power in the region. And now, we had migrated, while the MacFusty had found themselves declining in power in every generation. Until finally….."

Darius was currently sitting in a chair in front of his father's desk, inside the lord's solar and study room. They were engrossed in the discussion regarding the Hebrides Islands and the MacFusty. For generations, the clan of the MacFusty was granted power and dominion over the series of islands and the archipelago that was the Hebrides, although that was not the main point. The big thing is the fact that dragons laired in said islands.

The Hebridean Black, a dragon species native to the Hebrides Islands, and thus, to the Scotland region itself. The dragon itself was notorious for its dark rough scales, ridges along its back, and a tail tipped with an arrow-shaped spike. The Hebridean Black had brilliant purple eyes, almost amethyst. It possessed bat-like wings and could grow to be up to thirty feet long. Its favourite food was deer, although it had been known to carry off cattle. The Hebridean Black was more aggressive than the other dragon native to the British Isles, the Common Welsh Green, and thus required a territory of as much as one hundred square miles each. In fact, it was among the most dangerous breeds of dragons in the known world, losing the title of the most dangerous to the ferocious Hungarian Horntail.

Usually, such things as dragons would be under the direct management of the Ministry. The most famous example of that was the existence of the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary, in Romania. However, Wizarding Britain with its two native species, the Hebridean Black, and the Common Welsh Green, had no such facility, and certainly not from the Ministry. The Common Welsh Green was known to be a largely calm and peaceful breed, most of them were roaming quite 'freely', even if they were 'contained' in various small dragon holdings and reserves distributed across the British Isles. The Hebridean Black, on the other hand, liked to keep themselves to their own territory, settling in the many lakes and mountains or volcano that littered over the Hebrides Islands.

For hundreds of years, probably even centuries, the MacFusty Clan had traditionally taken on the responsibility of looking after the Hebridean Black Dragon, and for a family to be granted the 'responsibility' of taking care and controlling such valuable assets was something huge, a high prestige and honour of their own. But now, the MacFusty was down to the old Lord Adar MacFusty of 104-year-old, and his 19-year-old granddaughter, the heiress presumptive, Lady Caula. His son and designated heir, Magnur, had perished in an accident involving yet another mad attempt of a wizard trying to tame a dragon. Although it should well-noted that he did succeed in taming one particular large breed of a Hebridean Black, even for just a fleeting moment, as it happened only for him to die just seconds later when his cockiness took over in the middle of a flight, plunging the man who had no time to cast a spell, straight to his death.

His sons, meanwhile, would soon descend into petty squabbles and arguments over the fate of the dragon in mention. Magnus, the eldest, called for the dragon to be executed, believing it at fault and to blame for his father's death. The younger sons, Arran and Rowan, meanwhile, wanted to reclaim the fiery beast for their own and their purposes. The three found themselves arguing furiously in front of the said dragon, and that was the trigger for their demise. Arran's body was burned completely to the point where it became unrecognizable, while Rowan and Magnus both had chunks of their body parts missing to the sharp teeth of the said dragon. And thus the last line of the MacFusty was none but the Lady Caula, granddaughter of Lord Adar, and only child of the previous heir.

While traditionally, a lordship would pass only to the eldest male heir, the circumstance surrounding the fate of the MacFusty is still uncertain. For one, the MacFusty was a clan, not a noble house of lordship, so there existed possibilities for the law to be bent. On the other hand, the dangling fate of its existence was nothing but an invitation for the vultures. The shark smelt blood and soon many of the nobles would find themselves interested in the sorting of the inheritance problem of the MacFusty.

As an old kin of same root and ancestry, the Macmillan held a claim of their own in term of relation to the clan, not to mention the marriage between Cerella Macmillan to Lord Adar's father, making the current lord a half Macmillan and the heiress presumptive to be of the Macmillan blood, despite the fact that none of the current Macmillans actually had any MacFusty blood in their veins.

"But, Father. Is it really necessary for us to press a direct action, why not just wait and see the outcome first?"

"No, no. We won't have a better chance to increase our standing than right now. The Ministry is still recovering from the decade-long war, and Minister Bagnold's power is in shambles, an election to replace her is soon to occur, so they won't interfere much, and Dumbledore is going to reject the position again, also personally, I don't see him meddling in things like this. We have the strongest blood ties to the MacFusty, and we certainly have the resource and capability of resuming their 'responsibility'."

"I understand. But at the same time, marrying ourselves to gain the Hebrides in our name would also see a new cadet branch, this time a half-blood, right?"

"You're right. Since the girl's mother was a muggle-born, suitors for her hand would no doubt be considering it and thinking their move twice. So, I ask you again, what do you think we should do?"

Darius gripped the seat of his chair, feeling a bit shaky and nervous as he found himself facing his first big challenge as an heir.

"Perhaps instead of taking over the clan in favour of installing a new cadet branch, we could instead offer ourselves as a consort to the Lady Caula take the MacFusty name, thus keeping the Macmillan name pure while also gaining our house a dominion, then?"

Lord Gerald tilted his slightly, his lip twitching just the slightest, "That might just work, although in the long run, there's always a potential that they will just break free of our control. After all, our future descendants won't share their name with them, and blood ties would fade in time unless they share the same name."

"How about… gold?" asked Darius, uncertain.

His father gave a half-hearted snort at that, and with a smile that didn't reach the eyes, he said, "Hah, if only, Darius. If possible, Lucius Malfoy would have bought the islands thrice by now. But no, the Ministry, no matter how flawed or corrupt, would still not sell an asset like the Hebrides and the Hebrideans to a noble house."

"Well, sooner or later, the matter of their inheritance would need to be solved. And sooner or later, noble houses would meddle more and more. The Macmillan is a stalwart ancient and noble house, with a considerable reach of influence and power, why not offer them…. our patronage?"

"Patronage?" asked his father, with his face frowned in confusion.

"As you said, the Ministry doesn't have the means to interfere much with the matter, and as I said, other houses would soon begin sticking their nose deeper, hoping to wrangle some control or share over the isles. We have the power equal, and perhaps, bigger compared to the other 'suitors' of them, and the Macmillan is a staunch supporter of the Light, a clean history, and a respectable reputation. We shall offer our protection of their hold over the Hebrides against many who seek to take it for themselves. And well, desperate times need desperate measures, right?"

Although a bit lost on the term in the end, his lord father seemed to grasp his idea quite quick, "We shall protect and vouch for them in the Wizengamot and the Ministry, and in return, we draw up a contract of alliance with several terms, that would, of course, be in the best interest for the future of both our houses, you mean?"

"Exactly like that, father."

Gerald smiled, and this time, it truly reached his eyes, "Your idea has a lot of merits. And I could see it working. The MacFusty, like it or not, has never been a part of the court and all the politickings that come with it. If we play this correctly, that is appealing to their sense of no politics, perhaps their sense of gratitude..."

"And so it will allow us an easier time to strike a deal and arrange terms with them."

"It still won't solve every problem. There's still a loose end, Darius. Lord Adar could just very well marry her granddaughter to a higher bidder than us."

"Well, I am certain that there are ways to ensure the deal goes in our favour.."

Amused, his father asked him, "Oh? Do tell."

"The MacFusty is never known for their alliances with noble houses, certainly not with betrothals and agreements with purebloods. What we need.. is the Lady Caula, if she was to find a young man, a lord-to-be of her own liking, then?"

"Putting our bet in the hands of a young woman and her emotions seems like a foolish thing to do, won't you say?"

"I'm sure that you have your ways to ensure that, Father…"

Whatever his father expected of him, Darius was certain that his father was surprised by his choice of words, "Well, there are, of course, many ways for that. The question is always whether we will be willing to traverse that path, or not?"

"We stand to receive much from a minimum effort. I think to travel a certain path or two will be a fair price."

After musing it for a while, Gerald snapped his attention back to his son, "Yes, you're correct. We would risk little, but we could gain much from this. As long as we are subtle and careful enough, all should go well in our favour, indeed…" as he rubbed his fingers on his chin, thinking again, before continuing, "... You're a great heir, Darius. The future of our house is all but assured in your hands. Of that, I am sure of. I'm proud that you are able to figure a course of action like that in just minutes. You're much better than me, and that's sure."

"Thank you, Father. But I don't think you're half-bad, either.." said Darius as he turned into a teasing tone neared the end.

His father snorted, "Impertinent brat. I'll have you know that I'm not even half as cheeky as you when I was around your age."

"Ah, but then again, we've established that I'm just better than you, right?"

"That may be it. But do remember, Darius, that you shall never let your arrogance get the best of you."

"I shall never, Father."

"Good, good. Currently, around 20% of the men in the Hebrides are already ours, the result of a bitter tooth-and-nail haggling with Lord Adar in the past, that man is like iron, unyielding, and squeezing water out of a rock would be easier…"

"You really don't foresee a problem from the Ministry?" asked Darius a bit wary.

His father gave a swift shake of his head, "No. There's a somewhat power vacuum in the Ministry, right now. Dumbledore remains not interested as ever, at least that's how it looks, but I'm sure he has his own men inside, working for something."

"Who do you think will be the new minister, Father?"

"It's probably going to be Fudge, he's from the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. A bit too friendly to the likes of Malfoy to my liking, but he tempered it down with an equal amount of amity with Dumbledore. Well, I suppose so since old Barty is not getting the job after you-know-what."

"I see. And speaking of the ministry, don't you think that Cedric's father might be able of some help?"

Gerald seemed to consider it for a bit, "Amos, huh? To be honest he was never the sort to do something like this. But they are visiting soon, aren't they? Perhaps I could talk him into it."

"Uh, can I be excused now?"

"Oh, yes. Yes, you may go now, Darius. Meanwhile, I will have to write the further details of our plan, here."

"Thank you, Father."

Darius jabbed his wand forward, "Lumos Maxima!"

A glaringly bright light materialized in the middle of the room. Shining so bright that it covered most of the vision for the both of them. Utilizing the moment of confusion, Darius went through the motion of the Lambda as quietly, he muttered, "Cantando."

"A distraction, eh? You're quite creative. It's quite rare to see the Lumos charm being used in a duel."

"Expelliarmus!"

With a side step, the other person began with a playful tut as he waggled his fingers, "Ah, ah, you are far too eager again, Darius. Any blind man would be able to see that trap coming miles away."

"What? That doesn't make any sense! Why would a blind man-AHH! S-st… s-ss-stop i-it!" cried Darius in the middle of breathless chuckles as his uncle struck him with the tickling charm.

"D-damn… F-finite!"

Henry cocked his head to the side. Grinning, he cheekily taunted his nephew, "Rule number one in a duel; you don't respond to your enemy's words in the middle of a duel."

The two of them were currently locked in a sparring match, well, more of a training and a one-sided beating for Darius, in truth. They were using the training room in the manor that was rarely frequented. The size of the room was around more or less, a quarter of the Hogwarts Great Hall. The colour was a mix of jet black and light brown. Several training dummies were lined up around the hall itself.

"Tarantallegra!"

A jet of pink light surged forward from the end of Darius's thunderbird wand, rapidly making its way toward his uncle Henry.

Wordlessly, his uncle flicked his wand in the incoming direction of the Dancing Feet spell. And with the swish done, the spell clashed against the dogwood wand of the younger brother of the current ruling Lord Macmillan.

"W-what.."

Darius was beyond confused. There, at the tip of his uncle's wand, was his own spell, resting almost like harmlessly, seemingly content.

"It's a nifty little trick I learned from a wizard in America. I called it 'Spell-Catching'. It's a tricky move to do, requiring precise timing and precise wand movement. It's basically a less-defensive Protego, in which you recreate its defensive nature of blocking a spell, but instead of manifesting it as a shield, you manifest it using your wand itself."

"But, why is it still there? Shouldn't it just diminish after the clash?"

"The key is in the name. Spell-Catching, when you catch a spell, you have to wrangle that spell after it weakened just enough from the damage it took as it clashed against your defense. Just as it died down, you will have to maintain the spell, but using your own magic, instead. You with me so far?"

Although still a bit confused, Darius just nodded at his uncle.

"Well, basically, it saves you the expense of casting a spell, you see? It's like you are recycling the spell and magic of your enemy. Don't think much over it now, it's probably a move you won't be able to comprehend for at least a few years. I, myself, took months to learn this trick. It's a rather unique trick from what I've learned. Although it does have a weakness…"

"What?"

"It's best suited to common, general spells. Or spells that you yourself have regularly used. Say, if the enemy fired an original spell of their own, it would be hard to do the trick. You know why?"

"Because our magic wouldn't recognize it?" answered Darius with uncertainty.

His uncle gave him a bright and charming smile as he nodded at his answer, "Correct! Just like if you cast a spell 100 hundred times and it will soon become a second nature to you, trying to figure out an unknown spell in your first encounter is the opposite, a suicide. You are unfamiliar with the intent, with its nature, with its compositions, so it won't work against a family-secret spell or something like that."

"Would you teach me, then?"

"Hey, now, don't get ahead of yourself. You won't be able to learn this in perhaps 3 or 4 years at the earliest."

Darius's face fell down a bit at that, "Oh, I guess that's not too bad."

When he looked up though, he was jolted out of his disappointment or any thoughts he had at the time as a spell made its way toward him. His body reacted almost automatically, his right shoulder was leading the movement of his right body part as it recoiled back rapidly, letting the spell harmlessly went past him.

"That's cheap!"

"Rule number two in a duel; never let your guard down. As the French said, dear nephew, En Garde!" finished Henry as he started to went through various hand motions, shooting multiple spells at once.

"Protego!"

A blue shimmery, almost translucent light appeared in front of Darius as it protected him against the barrage of spells sent his way by his own uncle.

"Your Protego is really good for a 12-year-old. Truly, you have impressed me, so far. I am sure that-" he was caught off, however, as a surge of bright red light struck his right hand. His dogwood unicorn hair wand flew out of his hand, loosely falling into the floor.

Bewildered, Henry's gaze went back and forth between his wand that was laying on the floor and his nephew, who was smirking triumphantly, "Y-you!? When?"

"Rule number two in a duel; never let your guard down. As the French said, dear uncle, En Garde!"

"Fine, you got me," he grumbled to his nephew, "Now, would you oh so kindly explain how in Merlin's name were you able to pull it off?"

"Ah, I think it's the rule number three in a duel; never underestimate your opponent in a duel, maybe?"

"Cheeky little shit…" grumbled Henry to the side.

"Alright, alright. It's my original spell. You remember when I blinded you with the Lumos Maxima?" at a nod, he continued, "Well, during that, I took time to cast my first created spell, the Cantando! Now, do you remember hearing noises during our duel after that?"

"Noi-noises? Wait, those strange noises were you? I thought it came from the outside? But they seemed so... irrelevant?"

After two or three weeks of intense sessions, Darius was able to take his spell to a higher level. He had managed to broaden the range of the spell, from just creating musical notations to recreating natural noises. Those natural noises, that would be mostly dismissed in favour of just natural happenings, would be vital. Slowly, the illusion would be engraved in the target's mind, and just faintly, the target's awareness would be diverted more and more every few moments, until the point where a large enough difference would appear for Darius to utilize.

"...and when your consciousness danced to my tune, that's when I have the chance to 'catch you off guard' when in reality, it's not as much as catching an opponent off guard instead of trapping them in the first place."

By the end of Darius's explanation, Henry's eyes had turned so wide, "T-that's, you're brilliant, you know that? And you do realize that you basically recreated a drunken effect on your target, don't you?"

"Why, thanks a lot for that, dear Uncle. Anyway, the idea was actually based on some… muggle research."

"Muggle? I don't understand much about their learning, but really?" asked Henry, still skeptical of the claim.

"Yeah, I actually discussed it Mr. Ackley during my tutoring, it's basically the correlations of the brain, nerves, and the five senses."

"I don't understand those but it sounds clever enough for me. You really are terrifyingly smart. A well-deserved win, nephew."

"Thanks. I practiced a lot in Hogwarts, you know?"

With a laugh, the older figure in the room soon began to chuckle incessantly, "I'm sure you do. It's you, after all.."

"Of co- Hey! What's that supposed to mean?"

Darius turned to his uncle, only to see and learn that his uncle had departed the room, exiting through the large door. And he soon found himself alone in the room.

With a sigh, Darius said to himself, "Hah…. I actually defeated Uncle Henry, but I just got lucky. Not enough, I still need more!"

With an audible swoosh, sparks of green flames roared as it came to life in the fireplace of one an old and simple manor, not quite large, but still large enough to be referred as such. It was one of the properties that were under the holding of the Macmillan family.

"Here we are, Hebrides Islands! Imagine the beach!" said an excited voice which was revealed to be none other but the most outgoing person in their group, Henry.

As excited as ever, Ernie couldn't help himself but to pitch in, "Father, father! The dragons! Where are the dragons, I want to see them!"

"Now, now, there will be time for a visit to the beach later. For now, we will just be settling into our rooms before having a launch together with Mr. Emmetson," said the patriarch of the house.

"Cut them some slack now, Gerald, don't be such a bore.."

Darius himself opted to remain quiet. Instead, he walked as his steps carried him to the room where he would be staying for the next few days. The room was adequate in size, and it sure didn't look dusty or old, probably due to the hard work of a house-elf. It was not much smaller than his own room back in the manor, just slightly smaller. The design was a bit more simple, too. The room lacked any notable ornaments or furniture to actually set it as a special room or something.

On one side of the room, was laid a large glass window. Darius walked closer to the window. Slowly, he unlocked the window as he opened the large glass panel. A breeze of fresh air waltzed through his face in an instant, its gentle wind brustling against his hair. The song of sea was sung softly as the symphony of rushing waves came ashore, hitting the little rocks that were littered along the coastline.

Darius found himself smiling at that. It was a wistful smile. He relented his hold of the moment, and he just let loose. Immersing himself in the surreal experience, Darius absorbed the peaceful blessings of mother nature. After quite some time, he stepped back and sat upon the bed. His fingers gripped the plain white sheet of the bed while his gaze remained glued to the wonderful sight of the unraveling sea. Sighing softly, Darius let himself to fall on his back, and for a moment there, he was content with everything in the world, and then he drifted off.

"Mr. Ronald! When can we see the dragons?"

"If my Lord wishes it to be, I can arrange for that, probably tomorrow morning, after breakfast."

Ronald Emmettson was a man in his prime age. A wizard and a 25-year-old magical creature researcher. He seemed like an honest and genuine worker, someone with a true passion for his profession, and that passion happened to be dragons.

Lord Gerald took another slice of the meat with his knife, before turning to the person in question, "I'm afraid we already have a plan for tomorrow morning, Mr. Emmettson, how about today, in the evening, or after dinner, perhaps?"

"Certainly, my Lord," said an eager Ronald profusely, "As soon as we finish lunch I will begin the preparation for the visit of the young lords."

"No need to be so formal, here, Mr. Emmettson. After all, you have done our family and house a great service."

After the lunch was finished, they all had free time to spend until the scheduled dinner and a visit to the dragons in the evening. Darius's parents were busy within the company of each other. Ernie, meanwhile, was taken by Roland as he had begged, kicking and screaming, although not quite, but still close enough for a pureblood. So that left Darius and his uncle Henry. His uncle apparently had a grand plan of visiting the beach, and he had dragged Darius on his escapade.

Darius was now asking the same thing for countless times already, "Why must I be here, with you?"

His uncle Henry put a hand on his chest as his expression turned into one of betrayal, "Oh c'mon, you know you are hurting your poor uncle when you say that."

"Uncle Henry, it's always a delight to see you hurting, you know that, right?"

"You're no fun. Even worse than your father."

"I will take that as a compliment."

"Yes, you do that."

Darius was surprised when he saw his uncle taking out his and began waving it around the water body of the sea.

"Uncle?"

"Wait and see, young Darius, wait and see…"

Soon, the rushing waves stopped in their movement. Slowly, they rose to form a giant standing wall of water.

"T-that's! Uncle Henry! What if a muggle is here?" said Darius frantically.

His uncle Henry turned to face him, a single eyebrow raised, "You forget, dearest nephew, that this is a private property of ours."

"Oh, right. My bad, then. So, is that..?"

"Yep, elemental magic," answered Henry with a cheeky grin.

"Woah, that's like, so damn awesome! You're really awesome!"

"Of course I am. I am me, after all…" he trailed off.

The older blond would then create a swishing and turning motion with his wand, and with that, the wall of water revolved. Only for it to 'explode' a second later, drenching the younger blond himself in seawater.

"Gahh!"

"That's nothing! You know that when I was learning about water, there was no day that I didn't spend either drowning in water or drenched completely in water, instead!"

And so they spent the day with Henry showing Darius some variations and spells using the elemental manipulation that he had learned. He tried to give and teach some of the basics to Darius, but they found their success to be minimal, likely to be a result of the lack of theories to support the effort, and Henry himself was never accused as a scholar in his life. Darius had also found out or confirmed, actually, that his uncle, Henry surpassed his father by quite a mile in terms of dueling and prowess.

"So, your father told me that it's your idea regarding the MacFusty business?"

Darius answered with resolve, "Yes. Father asked me for my opinion. I figured he was trying to test me or something, but it seems that he considers my idea greatly."

His answer, however, was replied back with a snort, "Gerald is at his politics again. Even with his son, he would do politics?"

"Eh, I don't actually have a problem with that since it's one of my future responsibilities as the heir."

Darius was getting a bit uncomfortable. He had taken a conclusion that there was somewhat a stretch, or a sore point between his father and his uncle, most probably something about politics considering his uncle's distaste for the matter.

"Oh yes, the legacy and all that…"

Worried, the young boy scratched the back of his head awkwardly, not knowing what to do. Thankfully, his uncle soon snapped back from whatever thoughts or memories he was drowned in the previous moment.

"Alright now, you want to take another try?"

The sky was blazing in orange. Hues of flame. Te sun had left its peak earlier, although it hadn't been quite replaced by a sunset, yet.

If one squinted enough, they would be able to see the deep blue of the ocean blurring together with the eternal orange of the sky in a thin, faint line of yellow-brown that was stretched over the horizon right where the heaven met the sea. Soon, the sun would set.

The Macmillans had just finished their dinner with Mr. Emmettson yet again. And now they found themselves walking into a nearby reserve with the sole purpose of visiting the dragons. Ernie was being pampered with exciting trivia and encouragement from his uncle Henry as they led the way. Darius, however, walked slightly behind the rest, his father not far from him.

"Are we to meet the MacFusty, then, Father?"

"No, Darius. I had arranged a meeting with them in the morning, tomorrow. But I'm afraid that you won't be coming."

A little shocked, Darius pressed on, "Any particular reason?"

"Old Adar won't take well to your presence there, best to just be straight with the man. But don't worry, you will have some of your own 'glory' I'm sure."

"It's not that… but it's not that that I meant. Actually, it's better to just forget it."

"Here's the reserve, my Lords and Lady. It used to house a particularly tame female, but the dragon died yesterday. And so her eggs remained here. If we are lucky, we might see new hatchlings tonight. But I have to warn you, a new dragon had just been moved here, so it might be a little wild for the moment."

A deafening roar cut their discussion short.

Soon, they arrived upon the particular reserve. They could see a dragon with a great length of around 32 ft, snarling furiously as its handlers. Its scales were as black as the midnight itself, coloured the harbinger of death and destruction. The tail was thrashing around in the ground, and a slash of it managed to crack the ground below for a tiny bit. All things considered, the sight of the dreaded yet also admired beast, especially one in the colour of a jet-black itself, pointed to nothing but a sign that it was a ride befitting to the stage of the apocalypse and end of the world.

"That's an adult one. Most Hebridean Black peaked at 30-ft in length, although there are several dragons that surpassed that size here."

…

Small cracks were visible on the large eggs. Both had a twin pitch-black colour.

"Are they hatching now?" asked the youngest in their retinue.

"Any moment now, Lord Ernie."

And indeed, just at that moment, a single claw could be seen tearing its way out of the black shell. A small black dragon came out. It possessed the mesmerizing amethyst eyes of purple, a traditional feature of the breed of the Hebridean Black. The dragon let out a small screech that was apparently intended as a roar.

"Aww, it's so cute. It tried to roar!" said Darius.

"it's awesome! I love dragons more than anything in the world!"

At that moment, Henry chose to let out another joke of his, "Well, you won't say it after a few years, nephew…"

"Henry!"

On the other hand, Darius's mother was busy keeping Ernie close, "Oh look, Ernie, the other one is hatching too!" and it was proved to be true. Where there was one, now there were two dragons. Although the second one was just a bit smaller than the first.

A gasp escaped Darius's mouth, "Whoa!"

"Is it safe, Emmettson?"

"My lord, don't worry, a dragon is still very much harmless at this point, incapable of doing anything much of a threat. This is strange, actually, these dragons, they are motherless, and in cases like them, most of the dragons would prove to be wilder than others. But these two seem docile enough! Even one of them takes a particular liking to Lord Darius, I think…"

There, perched on Darius's palm, was a single black dragon who had crawled his way through. And because of that, Darius couldn't help but to remain speechless, uncertain of what to do as his thoughts wandered into a world away, centered around fire and blood of the dragons.

"Congratulations, nephew, it seems that you are a new and proud single mother of a handsome dragon if I do say so myself."

AN: So that's chapter 7. Writing a bit of that political bit is certainly interesting! Would love to actually expand the plot but I'm not sure that I will be able to not get tangled for too long in this arc, especially when I intended for his first year to be fleeting or just in passing. Thoughts and recommendations? Anyway, I tried to insert some depths into Ernie's character but it just can't, he's still 9 at this point, although be assured that I will in the future.

Question - Would you rather we stick around on this plot for one more chapter to completely sort it out or just skip ahead?