Chapter Seven

Confusions

Albus Dumbledore was confused. It wasn't something that happened to him often but he had to admit that things had started to happen in the last couple of decades to warrant it. He didn't like it, but there wasn't much that he could do about it, other than try to keep out ahead of whatever was confusing him. It helped that he could delegate dealing with some of whatever was causing the confusion, to some degree – as long as Minerva didn't get fed up with him and hexed him one time or five again.

In this case it was a certain thing that had started after the Tournament. The sight of young Harry actually talking to the dragon had almost made him swallow his lemon drop whole. As surprises went, that was a doozy. That started things, as near as he could tell and he knew he had to learn what was going on. Dumbledore had been asking questions all over the place trying to gather information.

In the meantime, things had started happening. Not so much at Hogwarts, but at the Ministry and to some degree the Wizengamot. As he was the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and not the Minister of Magic, he wasn't as up-to-date upon the things that happened in the bureaucratic nightmare that was the heart of Wizarding Britain.

There was a reason he mostly preferred academics, after all.

The things happening usually involved departments in the Ministry that even he either never heard of or had completely forgotten, along with some of the more well-known ones such as the DMLE, the Families Concern Department, and the Magical Creatures Department. The last had a different name, of course, but he'd called it that in his mind for the last eighty-five years and wasn't going to stop now no matter what was on the letterhead.

There really wasn't much information out there to figure out what the connection between the different departments and what was going on with young Harry. Dumbledore figured that it most likely had something to do with the young Potter boy. It made some sense, since it would have been too easy on him considering the luck he seemed to have. If nothing else, young Harry's arrival at Hogwarts kept things from being boring. If the old wizard was wrong about that supposition, then he was wrong. It wouldn't be the first time, but he carefully didn't admit that to anyone.

Meanwhile, one of those 'things that had started happening' was sitting in front of Albus Dumbledore.

A scroll had appeared upon his desk with a light, cheery chime. He approved of that. An overblown fanfare upon arrival was too much, even for him. It took him a moment to pick it up and look it over since he was casting check charms on it to make sure it wasn't malicious in nature.

Dumbledore saw right away that it was not the mass-produced parchment that Hogwarts used for school work and the like but a very high quality vellum suitable for archival purposes. It was bound by a wide ribbon that he had not seen the colors of but once in a hundred years, and it took him a few moments to remember what it was.

When the long-dusty memory finally came to him, he leaned back in his chair almost to the point of tipping it over. The long, shaky exhale of breath caught Fawkes' attention, and the immortal bird glided down to the desk from the window sill to find out what was going on to make his long-time companion react so. Dumbledore's hand reached out without looking to rub the phoenix's head, and Fawkes chirped his question.

"Of all the odd things to happen in the last few years this is something very odd, and that's saying something, Fawkes."

A trill was his answer along with another questioning chirp. Dumbledore didn't have to look up to know that the bird was doing his best to roll his eyes at the comment about things being odd.

"See for yourself," Dumbledore said, shoving the vellum at the bird.

Fawkes didn't go through the motions of reading the lines inscribed there, as phoenixes didn't normally read anything. If they did, there would be more newspaper subscriptions in the Wizarding world and probably more newspaper offices in flames. Instead, he read the mystical flow that came along with the vellum, as the process that created it had imbued it with another invisible layering that allowed him to decipher it. Other magical creatures could use the same process to do what he was doing, but they didn't have the centuries of practice he did. Or for that matter, the centuries of inquisitiveness about things.

It was considerably faster than Dumbledore's reading of the beautiful calligraphy. Plus, Fawkes really was a bit nosy at times like this. The old wizard knew better than to refer to that particular habit again. Minerva always laughed at him when he showed up at breakfast with a phoenix-pecked forehead. Others probably did too, but only when he didn't see them do it. His Deputy Headmistress wasn't afraid of him and laughed at him just because she could.

"Well, what do you think, old friend?"

Fawkes considered that for a while. The minutes ticked by as the Headmaster waited patiently. Finally, the bird tapped the vellum lying on the desk with a talon and sang a soothing song of peace interspersed with a few cautious notes of danger. Dumbledore sighed, the sound seeming rather heavy with some skepticism mixed in. He hated when Fawkes did this and always felt like it was payback for some of the things he pulled in the past. Fawkes never forgot and while he didn't carry a grudge, he wasn't above picking the worst times to remind Dumbledore of a few things.

"Yes, I was afraid you would say that but you're right. Very well, I'll tell Hagrid to make ready. It's not like we haven't the space for it. Besides, the Forest can be confining in some ways, I'm sure."

Fawkes agreed with a 'what can you do, sometimes' chirp and a distinct shrug, then launched off the desk and out the window to hunt. Dumbledore sighed again and launched a patronus after him to summon Hagrid. He had plenty of work to do and might as well warn the groundskeeper about his new tasks. If nothing else, Hagrid would be pleased. For his part, he was going to have to think of something to prevent certain pranksters to make his life harder about this.

The Headmaster scowled at the window. That blasted turkey had made him spill perfectly good Firewhiskey once already that he could had used right now!

|:-:|

The girl eased her way down the recently trodden path. There was something that her senses called out for, and it was the same thing that her other talents did the same. There was something here that needed to be investigated, and she knew how to do that. The woods didn't bother her. There was an understanding between her and most of the inhabitants of the forest.

The Centaurs mostly were bemused by her, but respected her love of knowledge and accommodated that with lessons in exchange for tales and stories. They told themselves that it was an even exchange, but really they felt that they got the better part of the deal. Especially when the grumpier ones of the Herd went about with much better moods after her visits. In fact, the elders wondered if she could be convinced to visit more often. It would make their jobs that much easier. The younger ones of the Herd felt that it would help the more stuffy of their number relax more. Hope sprang eternal in the case of some, and in others, it was eternally trying.

The unicorns adored her and the feeling was mutual.

The various hippogriffs were not of the same minds as the unicorns in the first few visits, but the discovery that they vastly enjoyed raw corn still on the cob cast her in a new light and now they didn't mind her. She never forgot the corn. That went a long way in improving their relations and now even the older ones looked forward to hearing her sing to herself as she approached. She always bowed first, however.

The acromantulas kept their own council and she left them alone. Even then, a few would trail her upon her visits to observe unobtrusively and the others of the Nest understood that they did it for her safety. The giant spiders were not quite sure if she was really was ignorant of their presence anyway, but continued on their self-appointed rounds. They had contentious debates among themselves about many things, but never about her. It seemed that she confused every acromantula enough that they all wanted to know what was so different about her. The not knowing of that answer bugged them.

The thestrals had long known her. She had their trust.

Luna Lovegood was careful in her most recent visit to the forest, humming a tune to herself. She was in a merry mood as several birds watched her from the cover of leaves, carrying a space-expanded bag that held several different things for the various residents of the Forest. She had consulted with Hagrid, who was thoughtful enough to offer her suggestions. He had been rewarded with a hug.

A centaur met her at a fork in the pathway. He eyed the bag as unobtrusively as he could, but from the little smile on her face he knew she had noticed. He sighed to himself before he spoke to her. One day, he'd remember that she was very discriminating about things to be seen.

"Miss Lovegood, what brings you here today?"

She regarded him in a slightly unfocused way, which he recognized that meant she was perceiving something he couldn't at the moment. He waited patiently for her answer, knowing that Magorian would be interested. The old hack (the term which he kept firmly to himself since he knew better than say it out loud) would probably nod to himself, grunt a few times in thought, and ask what she said for her answer and how she acted. Then he'd say something that confused the other Centaurs as much as it would everyone else – except the young woman standing in front of him.

It irritated him sometimes and made him wonder if that was why the older members acted so barmy sometimes, thanks to having to listen to Magorian do this for longer. The Centaur also wondered if the two of them did this on purpose and almost missed what she said.

"A great change in the tides has come, Balthaseros. Wind and water sweep on, but other currents are to soon converge, and without due preparation, much will be swept away. Some willingly, some opposingly, some necessarily, some wastefully. I come to start preparing."

Her eyes sharpened on his, and he felt the hairs on his spine shiver. Balthaseros tightened his hand on his bow, feeling seriously creeped out now and not liking the sensation one bit. She was a tiny slip of a girl, but there was untold power in the words she uttered and she blithely pronounced it without a care in the world. It wasn't… quite… a prophecy, but it rang a lot of cold-sounding bells in his mind. She went on, drawing his attention again.

"Well, that, and I wanted to find some mushrooms. Would you like a peanut butter chocolate drizzled biscuit?"

Drat that girl. She remembered his weakness for those kind of confections. It didn't soothe him to know that Magorian enjoyed them, too, which meant that he wouldn't have a safe place for a stash of the things.

He nodded, still thinking about what she'd said. Luna reached into the bag and gave him a fairly large basket full. On top was a smaller container with his name on it, which didn't ease his mind much.

"I promised Magorian some of these the next time I came by. You're going to report to him what I said anyway, so make sure he gets them." Her eyes flashed, which made his eyebrow rise. "And tell him I said 'no poaching of what I give you!' I was very unhappy to hear about that. It's hard enough to keep Ron away from them."

How she knew, Balthaseros had no clue. He nodded and gravely thanked the girl, who bid him a cheery goodbye to continue on her way. The Centaur watched her go for a moment, scratching his head and wondering what she was going to do next.

A couple of hippogriffs showed up and got a small sack looped around their necks full of corn. She spent time cooing to them and admonishing them to share with all the others. They nuzzled her and disappeared.

A passing unicorn got a juicy apple and a petting.

Some of the smaller animals and birds got a handful of seeds and nuts spread out under several broad leaves for concealment while they feasted.

The thestrals knew what they liked and she didn't disappoint them. They didn't stick around long in this part of the Forest, but took the time to nuzzle her as the unicorn had done. After that, they moved around her to head back to their area.

Luna smiled to herself, happy that her friends had taken the time to meet with her. She had turned to head back to the castle when there was a chime that caught her attention and revealed a small copse of pink bushes. It trembled as her eye fell upon it and split apart, the pink leaves darkening to a deep royal blue. A moment later, there was an opening there just tall enough for her to walk through.

The girl paused, every sense on alert, but there was no sense of danger emanating from the foliaceous portal. Still she waited for a moment, just in case. A small lavender-colored rabbit hopped from just outside and through without problems, sitting up to look at her from one eye as if to say, what's taking you so long?

Luna grinned to herself and stepped forward. She didn't question the rather oddly colored furry animal.

The leaves closed behind her as she walked on, looking forward to exploring. The rabbit had disappeared to do whatever rabbits did in this situation, and Luna ignored that. Rabbits did their own thing many times and as cute as they often were, like many things some got irritable enough to be left alone. Luna didn't feel like getting scratched by one.

"I wonder what I'll find," she asked herself before singing her skipping song. It was always good to discover new things. A few minutes later, she had a good part of her answer as a giant green-slivered eye regarded her from a distance of only a few feet away. The air around her was suddenly hot.

The song was abruptly cut off.

|:-:|

Ron Weasley had things on his mind. He hadn't noticed Harry leaving in the company of several girls since he was doing a lot of thinking. Harry had dropped a whole lot of truth on him and the shock had jolted him into doing a lot of thinking. The surprise of seeing the dragons in the Task and how the champions had problems dealing with them opened his eyes. The almost-horror stories Charlie would tell him and the twins outside of Molly's hearing forced their way back into his brain with startling clarity. The awful things that Charlie had to deal with and had seen, the burns on his body, and the way he got quiet from time to time registered with him, too.

Ron thought about Harry having to deal with all that without a bit of Charlie's specialized training, much less being younger than the other three. It wasn't a fun thought at all. The thought trail led on to its conclusion he realized something painful.

He'd been a world-class berk of the highest order, and it wasn't just this time either.

The realization was well and truly stuck in that day when he overheard some of the whispers of the others milling around the castle. Having good hearing was a must, especially around Fred and George even if it didn't help sometimes when it came to avoiding a prank. After he'd woken up in the Hospital Wing with a sore jaw, aching body, and the memory of Hermione's flashing eyes just before the pain, he realized that he had a lot of making up to do and the derision that underpinned the whispers… well, he knew he deserved every bit of it.

Now he sat in the Great Hall, just staring at his plate. He had loaded it without thought as he'd done many times before, piling it high with chicken, mashed potatoes, corn, and four or five others things that he hadn't even considered before heaping it on. Now that it was there, however, he just stared at it with no appetite. It sat there, steaming amid the conversations bouncing around it, as he thought about things. A flood of memories battered his thoughts, each demanding to be inspected.

The bars on the windows.

His friend's appearance that first time on the Express or the fact that he didn't know much about magic.

The painfully shy manner without much confidence.

The things that happened to him on Halloween every year.

Hating the 'Boy-Who-Lived' title and not actively searching it out.

Ron thought about that and wondered why. His parents would have done as much as they could to give him confidence, so why didn't…

His eyes got wide and he cursed himself for eight kinds of a fool and then some.

The painful thought that Arthur and Molly Weasley wouldn't have been able to do it if they were dead, killed in the same murder that gave Ron a title like that. He thought that a little more, for the first time applying the thinking that let him play chess like a demon.

James and Lily Potter couldn't give Harry the confidence and help him grow because they couldn't be there. Taken from an injured baby, on a cold Halloween night.

No parents, no familial protection. No guidance as he grew. No bedtime stories, no games, no sitting around the kitchen table, no brothers and sisters, no… nothing.

Ron gulped as he realized that there was a lot that he'd had, even in a poor family, that Harry didn't. The awakened part of his mind relentlessly battered him with data points on Harry that he had seen, but discarded at the time as less important than whatever he'd been carrying on about. The old clothes, the terrible glasses that was much, much worse than anything he'd seen anyone wear, the shoes that looked like they'd come from a dumpster.

The look of pure surprise on Harry's face every Christmas at getting his very own Weasley jumper.

The imperfectly hidden look on his face whenever he left Platform 9 ¾ with the Dursley family. Ron's heart dropped when he realized that he would never have that look at the thought of leaving the platform for the Burrow. Harry probably realize that Ron could see the look on his face at those times, but until now he didn't realize what it was all about.

The Dursleys had made things worse for Harry by denying him the things that he took for granted in a loving family. No wonder he looked so lost sometimes, from the first time he set foot in the Burrow to even now. It had to be a reminder of what he hadn't had from the moment the Potters drew their last breath.

What if it had been him in Harry's place?

"You going to eat that or look at it, Ronniekins?"

Ron looked over to see that Fred had scooted in next to him, where Harry usually sat. His prankster brother went still when he saw the look in Ron's blue eyes. The most serious look flickered over his face, but Ron didn't notice. He was too bound up in the thoughts that pounded in his brain.

"Ron?"

Ron clamped his jaw shut and shook his head in quick spasms. His hair jerked back and forth, following the movement of his head. Fred stood up quickly and dragged Ron to his feet. They headed to the door, Ron starting to shudder and Fred whispering in his ear to hold on, Ron, hold on to it for just a bit. Fred picked up his pace.

Up the table a good way with his back to them, George abruptly broke off his jokes with one of the third years and spun to see them leaving. He mumbled apologies to his seatmate and stood up to follow. His plate was left behind, the food on it half-eaten and forgotten for something more important.

One hand found Ginny as he passed by her. She was irritated to be interrupted, but one glimpse at the grave expression on her brother's face made her gasp. Something unknown made her look to the doors of the Great Hall before he could say anything. Ginny could see Fred with his arms around his little brother just before they passed through the doorway and left. She jumped up and hurried after George. Eyes followed their progress, wondering what was going on. The conclusion was fairly clear to most of them.

There was a Weasley in need of some kind, and family answered the call. It wasn't their business.

The quartet made it outside to the shadowed walls of the Castle. The cool air ruffled red hair on Weasley heads as Ron Weasley let go of the painful things he had come to realize and had started to to eat him up with guilt, in the arms of his family. Sobs wended through the air. It took a while before he was calm enough to start telling them what was wrong.

The family didn't interrupt him once as the torrent of words came spilling out. Some of it they knew already since it was hard to keep a secret of anything happening at the Burrow itself, but some of the things they hadn't known for one reason or another.

They looked at each other while Ron wiped his eyes when he fell silent. His red-rimmed eyes were downcast and he leaned up against the cold stone of the castle.

"Yeah, all that's true, Ron. I'm not trying to make you feel bad about it, but it took you long enough to see it," Fred allowed. He didn't mention that some of it was new to him.

"But what do I do now?" Ron muttered. His voice quivered as he voiced the question.

Fred sighed.

"For now, you leave them both alone for a week or two and let things cool down a bit. Yeah, Harry blows up spectacularly and gets it over it, but Hermione… well… good luck. You haven't acquitted yourself well with her either with what you say or what you do. Granted, she's a bookworm and focused on her education and you're… not. You've said and acted many times that such isn't important and maybe it isn't to you, but to her it is. Demeaning what's important to her doesn't help you much at all. You have your work cut out for you and it's nobody's fault but your own. You're lucky to still have something very important still attached to you, you know?"

Ron shot him a look. Fred held his hands up.

"Just saying, little brother. I'm not going to lie to you about something like this, not when you seem to be finally ready to hear it."

George sighed, just like his twin.

"If you get the bright idea to write him or her or both a letter to apologize, then don't. You'll just drift off onto chess or Quidditch and not sound sincere. That would be worse than not apologizing at all."

"But…"

"I'm not saying to not give them any apologies. I'm saying be sincere and think about how they feel. How would you want it to get fixed if it were you dealing with this? Think about what Harry's had to go through and think about how it made him be or what kind of outlook on life it gave him. I'm personally surprised he's not mistrusting and an abusive sort, myself. Don't do anything to make him feel or act worse about it. For that matter, you know how Hermione will react if you do, right?"

Ginny grimaced, but didn't say anything. She remembered the First Task and hearing the translated Dragontongue. Fred appraised the look on her face with a raised eyebrow, but said nothing. There was a silent promise from him in the way he regarded her that told her he had something to say to her later – and he wouldn't forget about it either. George glanced at her as well since he knew what was likely on her mind, before turning back to Ron. Thankfully he hadn't made her the same silent promise as his twin did, but Ginny was sure he knew about it well enough.

"You still got some thinking you need to do, so we'll go and let you get on with it. Just remember that Harry has had some real shite luck in his life and doesn't need more drama making it harder."

Ron nodded, but didn't say anything. His brothers clapped him on the shoulders as they got up and Ginny hugged him.

"I love you, big brother. Don't stay out here in the cold for too long."

He nodded again, silently. The others looked at each other and left him to it. They'd check on him later to make sure he didn't freeze out here.

|:-:|

Harry looked at Tessaies a bit oddly.

"What does 'we have much to discuss, much to plan, and much to do' mean for all of us?"

~~ Look. ~~ The large dragon waved a sharp talon around to indicate the area they walked into.

Harry did and his eyes went wide, as did the others'. Charlie and Malcolm froze.

They could see the Swedish Short-Snout was rolling around on her back, trying to reach an itch and grumbling, and one foot was kicking around in the air. Some distance away, the Chinese Fireball was in repose but quite obviously shaking her head in pique. They all heard her hiss something at the other dragon and get answered in kind. The first dragon got up and sat back on her haunches to stare at him.

Harry snorted without meaning to. Eyes turned to him.

"What did they say, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, and why are they out of their enclosures?" Malcolm tacked on. His face was very white. Charlie's wasn't too far off.

Harry chuckled. He couldn't help it as the stress of the last month or so and the feeling of sheer ludicrousness of his current situation just rolled off. Hermione hugged him.

"Harry?"

"She…" he laughed again, "She said, 'Annika, quit rolling around like a fat pig. We have guests. The speaker and his group is here. Do you want him to see you like this?"

"What? 'Annika' is her name?" Charlie mumbled. His eye were crossing a bit.

"Yeah, and Annika replied that I wasn't the first boy to see her rolling around and wouldn't be the last, if she had anything to say about it."

Several blushes erupted and they were treated to the odd sight of a dragon sighing. Harry translated Tessaies asking where Rhiain was, and Charlie looked up.

"Who is Rhiain?"

Hermione shrugged.

"It sounds like a Welsh name. Maybe it's your Welsh Common Green dragon."

Tessaies nodded at what she said, but said nothing else. Malcolm looked at Charlie.

"If we get out of this, I'm buying the first, second, and third round."

"Deal. I'll cover the fourth and fifth, if we even get that far."

Tessaies hissed something at them, which made them jump.

"What was that, Harry?"

Harry knew that he was going to be busy as the de facto translator, but shrugged.

"She laughed at you, then asked why they didn't get Firewhiskey. It's been a long time since she's had any, and it's not fair for you to talk about it front of her."

Charlie gaped at him, then looked at the Horntail.

"Seriously?"

She nodded at him, the motion unmistakable.

"...I don't know what to think about that."

"Drinking dragons?" Malcolm murmured, more or less to himself. "Do they play poker too?"

He sounded a bit winded and it looked like he was going to be hysterical. Tessaies hooked a talon around a roughly sawn tree trunk section. It was just tall enough to be a serviceable seat. Malcolm sat down when she pointed at it without realizing that a dragon had him sit down.

~~ Speaker, tell him to calm down. None of us are going to hurt him. Mention Shelleche Notch to him and tell him that we are gathered in a parley relating to that Treaty. There will be no harm done to any of us, under the Rules of Parley. ~~

He did that, then looked at the mother Horntail.

"Rules of Parley? Isn't that used for neutral talks during war? Are we fighting?"

~~ In some cases, yes, it is used for that. However, for our purposes this is for other things. I sense the magical signature of Treaty Documents in Fiery Mouth's bag. While we wait for our tardy member, perhaps your group should read them? It will help for later. There is also Magic within that helps with communication. ~~

Harry did so and watched Hermione and Daphne brighten up. He moaned to himself. The two smartest girls in the school would want to know more and unless there was a way for everyone to speak with each other in that document, then he was going to have to translate a ton of questions just from them. He thought it was a good thing Luna wasn't with them too, or it would be three.

He looked at the dragon wranglers and saw the look in their eyes, along with the speculative glances they were casting his way and groaned again with his eyes closed.

Tessaies snorted in amusement at Harry and traded glances with the other two. This was going to be fun.