Author's Note: Here's a continuation of the Dragonrider AU. In this tale, Harry and his compatriots are away from the battlefield, heading into very familiar territory.

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The "Crowned Lion" sign squeaked as it moved in the wind while Harry, Ron, Seamus, and Colin passed it. Seamus held the pub's door open and the blaze of warmth and music felt like a welcoming embrace. The singing was already off-key while the fiddler was doing his best to compensate. The singers, however, tried to compensate for their lack of singing ability with sheer volume, no doubt emboldened by alcohol.

"My kind of place!" Seamus's grin was missing a tooth, and managed to be equally lecherous and disturbing, while he ushered the others in.

Though they weren't wearing their uniforms, their bearing and visage identified them as soldiers to anyone paying the least bit attention, and most people in the pub noted the weapons sheathed at their waists. At least those still coherent, for a few patrons had already been sleeping under the tables.

Colin found them a free table while Ron and Harry were also assessing the pub, noting several armed groups in there.

"What can I get you, gents?" The waitress bowed towards them, giving them a nice view of cleavage.

"What else, luv?" Seamus winked. "The soldiers' special! Cheap wine and a bowl of whatever's cooking." He exaggerated his movements, sniffing in the direction of the kitchen, while also winking at the waitress.

"I'll be back in a jiffy, gents!" She winked at them and went to check on another table with a rather rowdy group of guests.

The singers had meanwhile switched to another song, belting out a mightily modified serenade to the Queen Mother, making Seamus grin and Colin plant his face in his hands.

"So," Ron made a dramatic pause, "a dragonrider now? Who would have thought?" He waggled his eyebrows. "Gonna mingle with the high and mighty now, eh?" He nudged Harry with an elbow.

"Oh, piss off!" Harry batted his hand away. "You know me. And you know a lot of those tossers wouldn't breathe the same air I do if they could help it."

Ron's answering laugh turned a few heads in the room. "Ah, but they can't help it now, can they?"

"Yes, a fact which will make them so much happier to see me." Harry rubbed his forehead with a grimace.

Colin turned to him. "Head giving you trouble, Captain?"

"Not gonna be your captain much longer, ya know?" Harry growled, angrily scowling. "If you haven't noticed, I got several tons of a spiky flying firebreather connected to my head. And she has quite the attitude."

"Told ya, Captain," Seamus was still grinning, "you pick up the best chicks."

"Laugh it up."

"Aye, Captain!" Seamus saluted and followed his captain's orders, followed by the others. Even Harry cracked a smile.

At that moment, the waitress was back with a pitcher of red wine and four goblets.

"Here ya go, gents!" She handed them each a goblet and poured the wine. "Just make sure you cause no trouble here."

"Don't worry," Harry spoke as he handed her a coin, "those may look like vagabonds. ("Oi!") Even smell like vagabonds, and speak even worse, but they're not that bad."

The waitress's "Uh-huh" suggested she didn't much believe those words, however.

"Anyway," Seamus spoke up after the waitress left, and after he took a sip of the wine, "you may not be our captain soon, but you will always be our Captain!"

"Hear, hear! Cheers to that!" Ron and Colin raised the goblets, and the four friends and comrades drank.

"If they put any weight in my recommendation," Harry said after a few moments in thought, "Ron will get command." He shrugged. "But it's just as likely they'll call in someone from another unit."

"Ah," Seamus waved his hand and almost spilled his wine, "we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

Colin nodded, followed by Ron. "And burn it afterwards, yeah?" Colin smirked.

"Who do you take me for?" Seamus sounded outraged, again making heads turn. "Course we'll burn it!"

"Aye!" Ron toasted him. "Think the Boys would take some tosser at their lead? They'd rather resign their commission."

Harry refilled his goblet. "Let's not get hasty, don't throw all away."

"Really?" Colin snorted. "You? You're telling us that? Mister-I'm-gonna-charge-three-ogres-by-myself?"

"When did the small kid get so mouthy?" Harry mock lamented. "Besides, it worked, dinnit?"

"And who says our plan won't?" Ron shrugged. "Besides, who'd want our band of reprobates anyway? The way I see it, they'll disband us and send us to different units."

"But that," Seamus raised his goblet for another toast, "will come later. Now, we drink! To another successful deployment!"

"Aye!" The rest of the friends cheered as well. This was their third goblet each and the wine was going to their head.

"Here it is, gents!" The waitress was gliding towards them with four bowls. "The stew!"

"Aw, thank ye, darlin'!" Seamus cheered while enjoying the scent rising from his bowl.

Harry had to admit, this pub's perpetual stew was certainly savoury.

"Well," Ron spoke up, "they have a good cook here."

"People're not bad either." Seamus grinned. "Oi, fiddler! How 'bout a cheerful tune?"

The fiddler bowed with a wide smile, even wider after a coin Ron had thrown landed near him, and soon a well-known folk song celebrating the bounties of a farmer women's fruit garden was welcomed by loud cheers.

"Heh," Ron sipped his wine, "Seamus always had the ability to bring folks together."

"Yeah." Harry nodded, watching Seamus leading the patrons into a particularly off-key rendition of the stanza praising the ripe apples of the generous woman. "Especially when they chase after him and want to beat him to death."

Colin had to spit out the wine at that. "How many times has it been again?"

Harry shrugged. "Only the gods know."

"Well," Colin raised his goblet, "here's to it being at least one more!"

"Aye!" The goblets clinked against each other.

The friends' laughter was, however, interrupted by a sound that put them immediately on guard. A scream of fright and the sound of broken pottery. A huddle of men were standing around a blond who was now waving a dagger towards the waitress. A jewelled dagger.

"He's waving a bloody focus around," Ron muttered while the friends were standing up, in formation to guard each other's backs.

"Rider," Seamus noted, looking at the blond's clothes, their cut resembling the coats the infantry wore under armour.

"We don't know what the others'll do. Careful." Harry was in command mode. "Don't draw first."

They approached the group. The blond's companions looked uncomfortable, unsure what to do about the blond rider's behaviour. Seeing the friends approaching, noting their stance and weapons, they very visibly put their hands away from their belts, and stepped back.

"What do you mean you won't bring more?" The blond was ruddy in the face and unstable on his feet. "Money? Who do you think I am?" He turned around, waving the focus around the room. Think I'm some beggar? I'm a Malfoy, my word is worth more than your lives." He turned back to the waitress. "Now bring more wine!"

"Is that the behaviour of a noble dragon rider? A noble exemplar of honour?" Harry approached him, showing his empty hands. "Does a fellow dragonrider need to threaten a woman?"

The young Malfoy focused on him. "Fellow dragorider? You? You dress like a vagabond. Born in mud and trying to climb up." He aimed the dagger at Harry. "What did you do? Steal a dragon egg?"

Harry a felt a headache approaching as Hildostra growled in his head, incensed at the allegations. 'Steal a dragon egg? Show that pale worm his place!'

'Calm yourself before you split my head,' he sent back at her in exasperation. "That is not important." He approached, arms outstretched. Coiled as a spring, ready to act. "But you threatening the people here is. Put your weapon down."

"Some mudborn filth won't order me around!"

Harry knew the attack would come, and met the wild swing with a dodge to the side, before stepping into the blond's space, a hand grabbing the arm with the dagger, the other hitting the Malfoy's nose. He let go of the dagger and clutched the now bloody nose, sending a tearful glare at Harry.

"You'll pay for that!"

Harry tucked the dagger behind his belt, giving the young Malfoy a cold gaze that usually was enough to calm down hotheaded recruits.

"You'll calm down now, lickspittle, and go home." He patted the dagger. "I'll be keeping this. When you sober up, come pick it up."

"You've robbed me of my honour!" The blonde lunged at him, trying to get at the dagger, only to be sent to the floor by a strong backhand.

"You have none." Harry turned to Malfoy's companions. "Take that little lickspittle home, and make sure he doesn't bother anyone else."

The men, to their credit, did not protest, and took the young Malfoy between them, half guiding and half carrying him away.

"Well, Captain," Seamus patted his shoulder, "always interesting time with you."

"Yeah," Ron nodded, "You really know how to make friends."