Expressions

"I guess someone's trying to kill you!"

Harry simply couldn't believe what he was hearing.

Madam Pomfrey had already checked Harry over again that morning with tears still in her eyes, showing her most seen patient that she really did care about him. Last night in the Hospital Wing, she had told him, "Clean off that dragon saliva!" in a tone that said that she was trying to keep from crying and didn't want to do it in public. Harry reflected at the time that working in the Healing field was probably harder than he'd thought before and resolved to ask someone else about that. As it were, she didn't look like she was ready to talk much when he'd awakened. She'd taken one of the nurse mediwitches in training with her to the medical tent to inventory the contents and shut it down now that the First Task was finished.

He found himself shooed out early the next morning along with a just-arrived Hermione to possibly retrace the steps Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor had already taken to different places, curious to see how they fared in their attempts at the Task. They had first decided to follow her out to the tent at a distance, not really having any better place to go right then and a bit concerned about her. Harry started to catch up and ask her if she was all right, only to be met with the sight and sound of the tent flaps magically sealing. If the sniffles he could faintly hear from inside meant anything, she didn't want to be bothered. Hermione gently tugged him away from the tent with an expression that said she understood what the mediwitch was going through.

Now they stood in front of Ron Weasley, who had met them several yards from the medical tent to tell them his thoughts. His red hair stood out from the pale skin that looked a lot like his brother's had, except he didn't have the same suntan Charlie did. Ron's eyes were wide and he was shaking a bit.

Harry glared at him.

"No! You think?"

Ron gaped at him. Harry didn't give him a chance to say anything. The memories of the preceding month burst out of him, along with the frustrations, stress, and not a little bit of anger.

"You're the one that's been saying this whole time that I've been lying and cheating and doing underhanded things! You've been stirring the blazing cauldron with people seeing 'my best mate' talking shite about me. Me! Harry! Don't think that I don't know about the whispers that sounded a lot like you when you think I'm not around!"

"Well, with the Cloak no wonder you know."

The answer sounded a bit weak. This didn't help Harry's mood at all.

"The Cloak had nothing to do with this! I was told about everything that was said not long after it was said. A few people bragged to me about hearing it said and a few other people that acted a lot more trustworthy than you confirmed it! Several places and several people, too!"

Ron's eyes slid unwillingly to Hermione, whose reddening eyes had begun spilling tears.

"No, it wasn't her, Ron. She's spent all her spare time and more with me to try to help me get through this stupid Task with dragons. You know, dragons? Big lizards that breathe almighty hot fire, weigh a terribly big bunch, and usually in a bad mood? Nesting mothers protecting their eggs? That kind of thing? And you think I want to be involved with that?"

"But…"

"But, nothing! You think I want to willingly put myself in danger for a measly few coins and so-called eternal glory? When all I have to do is wait for the yearly attempt on my life? As if I don't have enough to worry about?"

"But, mate…"

"No! No 'mate!' I needed you, Ron, I needed my friend and what did I get instead of support from you? Nothing but backstabbing fueled by jealousy and what you think you know my life is like, without bothering to be asking me at all! For nearly a whole month, day after day after week after week! Did you take up for me? Did you try to stop all the whispers – well, other than the ones you started yourself – and did you even try to do something about those damned badges?"

Ron tried to head off the Harry Storm Cloud Express that was rolling right along and said the first thing that came to mind.

"But think of all the birds you could pull! Even the ones not quite as hot like Hermione, here! You could do much better! You'd have all the broom closets on a waiting list if you won!"

There was a gasp and a sudden silence.

"What. Did. You. Say?"

Ron could only stare at him, the tone in the other boy's voice shocking him. Harry was well and truly wound up now, and Hermione was looking at him a bit nervously. She glanced between them and put her hand on Harry's arm, which felt like corded steel. Her lips thinned out for a moment.

"Harry? Let me say something here," she murmured.

"What?"

It was a bit more sharp than he really intended it to be, but she ignored that and the fire in his green eyes.

"No, not to you, to Ronald."

"Huh?"

Harry looked at her, thrown off a bit. For his part, Ron Weasley grimaced at the 'Ronald.' This was never good. Still, it was better than the fury that Harry was barely containing. He was practically vibrating.

"Um, what… what did you want to say, Hermione?"

"Just one word."

Both Harry and Ron looked at her with identical expressions, wondering what she was up to. Harry was distracted enough to calm just a tiny bit.

"Er, okay, what word?"

"Goodnight."

Before either Harry or Ron could react she stepped forward, reached for the clouds and swung a vicious uppercut that started from her shoes and landed straight on his chin with a sharp crack that echoed around the area. Harry could see that her tiny fist was glowing, but how that was or what caused it he couldn't say, thanks to the sudden surprise. Later, Harry would have sworn to anyone who asked that he saw a flash of light at the moment of impact.

The punch didn't lift Ron completely off his feet since even now he'd managed to grow a good bit taller than either of the other two, but one heel came off the ground. One of his hands popped open and the other spasmed shut like a poor imitation of a duck's bill before his arms went slack. The redhead's eyes rolled up into the back of his head and he crumpled to the ground with a meaty thud.

Harry scooted back with wide eyes and a bit afraid now. His temper quickly cooled off and hid itself back in its box, scuttling all the way.

"Percussion!" he blurted, not knowing what else to say.

Hermione was staring coldly down at the insensate lump at their feet with her fist still clenched. Their attention was completely on Ron and they were startled when the awed voice came from behind.

"Damn, Hermione. What the hell do you do to him when you're ticked off at him?"

They turned to see Charlie, Fred, and George Weasley, Lavender Brown, Daphne Greengrass for some strange reason, and Colin Creevey. The youngest one there had his ever-present camera and looked like he was itching to suddenly develop a bunch of prints. He could barely stand still, but since it was Colin no one thought anything about it. They had been so focused on each other in the spat that no one had heard the shutter clicking.

Fred and George walked over, giving Hermione a wide berth and picking up a foot each with aplomb.

"We're not going to carry him," Fred said.

"We don't want to be infected by whatever he has," George added.

"Wait, why not levitate him then?" Hermione inquired.

"It's against our religion to expend magic to help gits like him. That, and we don't want to find out what that felt like."

So saying, they started to drag him to the castle.

"Wait, what?"

"Don't ask, Hermione," Harry finally spoke. "It's probably better not to know. This is Gred and Forge, remember."

"They do know that Madam Pomfrey is right here in the tent, don't they?"

There was a guffaw from Charlie.

"Of course they do. We heard the whole thing. They're not going to make it any easier for Ronniekins, and if it means he wakes up with a sore head and has to wait then that's what going to happen. If you hadn't knocked him out for what he said, they would have."

He regarded Hermione.

"Although, I don't think they would have done it quite that way."

Hermione blushed.

Charlie clapped Harry on the shoulder.

"One word of advice, Harry. Never forget any birthdays, anniversaries, or special holidays and events."

"What?" The confusion on his face clearly said that he didn't know what relevance the advice had on anything, his mind still on the spat. Lavender had overheard, and gave him a slow nod of agreement.

"Mark my words, little brother."

Charlie's eyes flipped over to Hermione, who was talking to Daphne and off to his brothers in the distance at the end of a faint furrow in the dirt. It looked like one was using his wand to spray water between them every so often and the other was conjuring small rocks which they passed on either side of.

"Um. Should we say anything to Madam Pomfrey?"

"I don't know, Harry, should we?"

The look in Hermione's eyes dared him. Harry decided he had pushed his luck enough for the day and changed the subject with all speed.

"You know, I'm hungry. Talking to dragons makes me hungry. Are you hungry? Let's go find something to eat. Food sounds good right now. Charlie? You hungry?"

Charlie waved them off.

"Nope, I'm good. I only came out here looking for you to go see your dragon lady friend in a few. Go find something quick to eat. When I find Hagrid from wherever he is, he'll probably be dragging you there to go see the dragons."

Harry grimaced. He would, too, if it weren't for Professor McGonagall who had actually expressed an interest in seeing this for herself. That was another person he'd had to give more details about the events with Tessaies this morning.

Lavender shot past them, the urge to disseminate all she'd seen having gotten too strong. Daphne could be heard in negotiations with Colin for a few prints of the pictures he'd taken before approaching Harry. It sounded quite lucrative for the young photographer, from what little he could hear. She stopped and fixed him with her blue eyes.

"Potter. Granger. I find myself hungry, too. I invite you to the Slytherin table for the next meal. We have much to discuss."

"About what?"

"Matters of mutual interest."

The Gryffindors looked at each other. The perplexed looks on their faces matched exactly and Daphne grinned in cold amusement. It didn't last long.

"Uh. Well, okay, but you're coming with us after that, then."

"What for, Potter?"

"To talk to a dragon."

"WHAT?"

This time the shared looks had nothing to do with being perplexed.

|:-:|

"Tessaies, are you awake?"

The whisper was distinct, and Tessaies grumbled a bit.

"I am now, Annika." And it had been such a good nap, too. Tessaies was still feeling a bit drained after the communion with Magic. Patience was a good thing, but with Annika...

"So what's wrong with the Speaker? You haven't said, but I can tell. I'd rather know now than later."

Tessaies sighed. Trust a mother dragon – even a dipsy one like Annika – to zero in on things like that.

"I'd rather say it once, Annika."

"Oh! No problem! Hold on," and before Tessaies could ask what she was doing, Annika yowled something that sounded primal. All around the encampment, dragon handlers jumped and dropped various things like wands, hot coffee, rope, cards, food, and in one case a pair of pants that caused wolf whistles and rude comments from the others in his line of sight.

Nearby, a centaur was practicing his archery when Annika's yowl made him jump. He was all right aside from a twisted finger, but it didn't help Marsh, the other centaur. He found a painful arrow embedded in his rump. He would later be given the sobriquet 'Sharp Arse Marsh' for the rest of his days.

The acromantulas would have a sudden colony wide output in spider silk but wouldn't admit to anyone that Annika was the cause.

The unicorns just rolled their eyes. They were used to the things Annika did by now.

In Hagrid's hut, Fang whined and covered his eyes after trying to huddle under Hagrid's bed. He was only able to get his head and shoulders under the bed.

The two other dragons woke up with hearts racing and thoughts of murder on their minds.

"Annika!"

"What? You said 'only once,' right? Everyone's awake now. Just tell us and be done."

Tessaies grumbled something under her breath.

"What was that awful noise, anyway?"

"One of the younglings was singing an odd song from somebody named 'James Brown.' It was intriguing. I need to find out more."

Tessaies closed her eyes and counted to ten in several Draconic numbering systems.

"And why do you need to find out more?"

"My eggs quiver when I sing it to them! Isn't that so sweet?"

Annika was so bubbly, but Tessaies hoped the Short-Snout eggs hated this 'James Brown,' whoever he was. The older mother dragon hoped that Annika didn't demonstrate anything else she heard, not for a while but knew it was a lost cause. She noticed that the younger dragon was looking at her again and wondered if she was going to do something else to shorten her life span.

"What?"

"The others will be here in a moment."

And sure enough, the other two dragons soon showed up, having learned Tessaies' chain-removing trick. Annika did the same thing, but treated it like a piece of jewelry.

The Welsh accent told Tessaies who was there first.

"So, what about Annika's question, now? I admit to a mite bit of curiosity, myself."

"Of course you would," Tessaies grumbled. Rhiain wanted to know everything about everything which contributed to a few grey scales for the older dragon, but like Annika she was an excellent mother. She looked at the Chinese Fireball curled up to the side, watching while yawning.

"What about you?" The sigh was noticeable.

Quiangya waggled a wing, as if to say, I'm here, right?

Tessaies could see that the other mother dragons all wanted to see what Annika had noticed and decided to mention what she perceived.

"Okay. Listen carefully. I need to mention this as a Mother Eminence."

The others nodded, grave expressions on their assorted faces. Even the dragon handlers didn't completely know about this rare facet of dragon society. For a dragon to invoke that title before talking about something in council was very serious to them. It mean that there was most likely going to be unpleasantness ahead that would affect all of them and as all the younger dragons looked to Tessaies as the de facto leader of their reserve, then obviously there was something that needed to be done. They waited for her to speak her mind and held their peace until then.

Tessaies wanted to pace for a bit, but with all four mother dragons present it wasn't easily enough done. There was no help for it, so she plunged in as if she was striking for a large seal out on the water.

"I have seen that the Speaker has been grievously abused. The magic that I could detect from him cried out for repair beyond that work that the human Healer has been able to do. He has bravery and heart for days, but I could tell that his essence was failing him for working on righting what was wrong with his body."

Quiangya puffed a snort.

"I noticed that he looked rather puny. I wondered what he was doing there, honestly. The others looked well-fed, well-trained. They had the scent of maturation upon them, but this one?"

There were nods of agreement all around.

Rhiain's face screwed up in thought.

"He had a different scent – mature, yet, but in a different way. It seemed to me that he might not be mature in body, but in spirit and mind is completely different. Would I be faulted for guessing that we all scented our measures either when they were brought out that night by stealth or during the Task?"

From the denials, it appeared that she wouldn't and she sat back after looking at Annika. The Short-Snout didn't seem to have anything to add, so Tessaies spoke.

"Yes, he does have a maturity that isn't so uncommon, it seems. From the short bit he told me in the 'arena,' he is but three years away from what they consider of-age. We know that a lot can still happen in three years."

"And this 'of-age' is what, exactly? I don't recognize this term. Wizards are still confusing to me." Rhiain sounded like she thought she knew, and didn't like the idea of what she thought. Her brows were furrowed.

Surprisingly, it was Annika that answered.

"The term 'of-age' means that the young ones are considered adults. Mature enough to live apart from their birth nests. They begin their lives, find mates, begin nests of their own and find their places in their world hopefully to contribute."

Tessaies started to agree, but Annika went on.

"And about this Speaker… Along with those delightful tunes I've heard," and the others hoped she wasn't about to demonstrate any new ones, but she continued as solemnly as they'd ever heard her, "I've been hearing tales, too. Unsettling tales."

The others carefully kept themselves from rolling their eyes since Annika was being serious. They liked to gossip, but Annika took it to an art form sometimes.

"I think he's the one they call 'The Boy-Who-Lived' and if he is, then that explains a lot. You know what kind of contacts I have."

It was stretching it to call the gossiping she did at the preserve as 'contacts,' but the other mother dragons agreed with side-eye glances at each other. Annika didn't notice. Tessaies had a thought as she remembered something.

"I've noticed that he seemed to be underfed, and I'm sure you have too. I could perceive old injuries that never healed properly with my Sight. There was more than a few breaks in the bones he carried. His skin carried the heat marks of scarring on his body, and from the way that he moved it looked to me that he was far too used to this. Someone that young shouldn't be that used to it."

They agreed, mother to mother.

Rhiain asked, "Who is his mother? Why did she not care for him?"

Tessaies paused. She hadn't thought to ask him that after the tantrum. She considered those questions.

"I'm not totally sure that the mother that birthed him still lives. He carries the scent of grief with him, but it's an old scent. It's in the background of himself, but still a part, and isn't fresh."

Quiangya tilted her head slowly as she considered what the older dragon said, suddenly on nearly the same thoughts. She wasn't quite as old as Tessaies, but she had been around for several centuries and had seen some of the same disquieting things in that time. Dragons did more than fly around and flame people, after all. Many times, they observed. Her eyes narrowed more than usual.

"You don't suppose that whoever has charge of him sees him as an unwelcome burden and not something to care for with joy?"

The younger two dragons could tell that the two elders had come to some conclusion. Quiangya looked like she had swallowed a rancid pig, if the thoughts playing across her face were any indication. Rhiain noticed this and asked, "But even with a nest-mother that cares so little, then why is a child deliberately placed in danger? For what purpose?"

"That's what we're wondering. When in opposition adults are one thing, whether wizard, goblin, centaur or whatever, but a child… children are sacrosanct across species. Children should not have to fight us, after all. After all, the young is what assures the species will not die out in any species. The flow of Magic has been disturbed for some time now because of the actions of some of those with her Gift and I think this Speaker has been an unwilling part of it."

"Unwillingly gifted with Magic?"

Tessaies shook her head, the action curtailed in deference to the limited space.

"No, both unwilling victim and part of the actions of others. Or maybe 'schemes' would be a better word. I got a very strong scent of that where those judges sat."

A dragon's sneer was always magnificent, and as Tessaies had added one while she spat out the last part of her statement the others remembered their own impressions of that specific area. It was quiet for a moment as the mother dragons thought about this.

Annika finally spoke up.

"We couldn't hear what he said to you to set you off and you never actually told us yet. What did he say?"

Tessaies sighed and related everything Harry had told her in a still voice along with some of the things she had noticed about him that was different from the others. The reaction was varied. Quiangya was quietly furious with her tail lashing, Rhiain was stomping as much as she could in the confined space, and Annika was the surprise.

She looked like she was going to flame the area. Her eyes were wild and swimming with power.

"Annika! You Will Calm Down!" Tessaies stared the younger dragon down. "We still have business to discuss and you will not be the cause of breaking up the meeting! Do you understand me?"

The sight of the Horntail rising up over her and spreading her wings triggered in Annika the submission due to the Mother Eminence that Tessaies was. She bowed, as Tessaies nodded. There was relative silence for a moment as the Swedish Short-Snout gathered herself. After several minutes had passed, Tessaies nodded.

"Now, Annika, tell us about this 'Boy-Who-Lived.' Who is this?"

The mother Horntail listened as Annika related everything she had heard. One item stuck out in the minds of all present.

"Albania?"

The questions about Quirrell, whoever that was, filled out some more answers, but added a lot more and they knew that this Boy-Who-Lived had been involved. Annika went on.

"A basilisk? There was a basilisk in the castle? A deadly predator in a place of learning and growth for younglings?"

"Yes, and this basilisk bit the boy."

"And he's not dead?" The question from Quiangya was skeptical. The question threw Tessaies for a loop. She had smelled something on the Speaker that she couldn't place at the time but it was reminding her of…

"No! There was a phoenix there!"

… and there it was. Her gasp brought attentions back to her and she spoke up.

"The Speaker. Harry is his name. I tasted minute traces of basilisk venom and phoenix tears in the sweat he had on him. Both canceled each other out and had been rendered inactive or I would have been sick, but I couldn't place the taste until you mentioned it."

The others gaped at her.

"But that means…"

"Harry is surely the so-called 'Boy-Who-Lived,' then. Both of his parents are dead. We'll leave this bit about this 'Sirius Black' character for later when Harry visits. I think we need to get some more information and it's a good thing I did what I did."

Annika and Rhiain looked at each other, while Quiangya sighed heavily.

"What did you do now, Tessaies?"

"Me? Oh, nothing, except I called for help."

"Help?"

The other dragons looked at each other before Quiangya asked her question.

"And what kind of help did you call for?"

"Does the Treaty of Shelleche Notch remind you of anything?"

The other mother dragons looked at each other. Shock echoed in their eyes as Tessaies grinned.