Chapter Eight

Intrigues

This deep in the Castle, there weren't any windows. Certain things that needed light had small rune clusters stuck to walls and the ceiling that gave off a blue-tinted light, which irritated most people that needed to be here. Not many people knew about the depths that Hogwarts commanded – mostly because those in the past that did, died here.

Being a castle of its age, it contained dungeons. Most people knew those now as the domain of Professor Snape for the most part, but those with the extra knowledge knew of the existence of more dungeons and a sizable set of catacombs. The catacombs were mostly filled as the castle had a long, long history with parts of it being much less than genteel.

In fact several stone corridors still showed bloody walls, kept viable by the linkages between the different bloods' magics and the leylines that Hogwarts rested over. It wasn't unknown when down there for whatever reason on certain days of the year to hear cries of pain and fury echoing from those corridors. It was always unsettling to hear it happening as though it was right next to oneself, but at the same look down a completely empty and bare hallway.

As the stone in those specific walls refused to accept lighting rune clusters and snuffed candles as they were carried, not many people walked past them without a really, really good reason. One had to walk carefully or they would slip on the clusters that had been sucked dry of stored magic and tossed away from the walls with palpable disdain.

Indeed, most people felt that same disdain often sink into malice the further they walked.

The air was stuffy, filled with the moldering scents of fabrics stored away without being dried first. Food stuffs that had been forgotten, or metals that could not fight the encroaching rust and decay. The bloody walls contributed to some degree, but by now it wasn't as bad as it once had been. Still, it wouldn't have hurt for a good detailing cleaning to occur. The problem was that no one really wanted to spend the time down there doing it.

The last time that had happened was two or three centuries after the death of the last Founder. After that, there hadn't been much detail paid to the depths of the Castle. Hogwarts knew about that neglect, of course, and she tried to get successive Heads to attend to that but in vain. It had always been brushed off, as the functions of a school had always been judged as more important than the functions of a defensive position.

As the perception of need applying to these areas diminished, so too did the alerting wards lose their priority among the other things to be attended to. Now, anyone could enter without fear of a hue and cry being raised to reveal their presence.

For the same reason, the Castle's Armory was in the same neglected state. It was better than the lower dungeons, but frankly there was much that could be done there as well.

There hadn't been lessons of the sword or shield in centuries, nor any of horseback riding or the teaching games of war on the battlefield. The wand had run roughshod over people with swords, as the spells could originate far outside the arc of a sword's swing and still be effective. Ranged weapons still had something to say about the field of battle, but as with the sword, the training of longbow archers devolved to smaller and weaker bows. At that point, the wand kept pace and sometimes surpassed.

Still, leyline-boosted magic kept the blade edges of certain weapons as sharp as the day they first were drawn in battle. The swords could cut parchments in fine shreds, the daggers could slide hide in straight ribbons, the arrows could cleave targets in twain across the length of wide fields. The war hammers remained ready for use, those with opposing points boasting of evilly sharp points ready to do battle. The shields stood broad and unbroken, resting until someone took them up to answer the call. Other weapons according to their purpose lay in repose, waiting.

All that meant that the depths of the Castle held knowledge of a sort that while some was necessarily out of date, it was still something that could be applied in surreptitious ways anyway. Some things didn't change. Assassinations still happened, of course, and so it was with the person silently descending the stairways. He was always looking for better ways to kill without being noticed.

Considering the obscure wealth of knowledge over almost a thousand years in this part of the castle, he would be ready when he was called to perform his duty. He would explore, making note of things that could be examined more closely. He would procure items that would be of great use that others would have no idea how to identify now. He would prepare his plans, assessing the abilities that he would gain against the information about who or what he was to be set against.

Most of all, he would be hidden until it was time to strike the killing blow. His Master had prepared him for that very purpose.

|:-:|

Viktor Krum didn't know what was bothering him so. There was something about this place that just rubbed him the wrong way. It was something about the castle somehow that messed with his instincts whenever he looked around. It bothered him and made him uneasy. Not so much the company. There were a fair amount of girls aside from the sadly expected fangirls that treated him like anyone else. Both from Hogwarts and Beauxbatons, although more from the latter than the former. He had to admit however that if the fangirls had been removed from the availability pool there wouldn't be much left.

This left him wondering when his definition of 'fair amount' had been twisted around.

His magic was a little uneasy around them, but he didn't know if it was reacting to the circumstances of the Triwizard Tournament or some kind of conflict here at Hogwarts. As near as he could tell, it had something to do with the Potter boy. What, he didn't know. He lay in his bunk on the Durmstrang ship and thought as the timbers creaked around him in the night.

Potter. Now that was a bad business. It was rather evident to him that the boy didn't enter himself. Why he wasn't immediately removed from the competition was more than Viktor could say. He wasn't even of-age!

That was something else that rubbed him the wrong way. It didn't matter that the kid was younger than he was, he felt almost paternal. No, that wasn't right. Maybe more of a stern big brother. The story about Potter was known, of course. The Boy-Who-Lived, and wasn't that a terrible thing to hang on an infant that had lost his family?

Maybe he would ask the French champion what she thought. She acted snooty, but with the insight that came from being around many people he could see that it was just that – an act. A cover, of sorts. It made sense that her Veela magic might have some leads on what was going on with the boy. It didn't seem that the other Hogwarts champion had either the time or the inclination to find out what was going on.

There could have been some mistake, of course. British wizards did things their own way, and it caused issues to arise sometimes. Well, more than sometimes, but that was rarely talked about. Maybe there was something about the school that the other boy was trying to keep himself clear of so he would be able to concentrate on his task. It seemed reasonable enough.

If only Viktor could figure out what was bothering him so about the whole thing!

|:-:|

~~ So what you need to do… ~~

Tessaies broke off her conversation with Harry as the leaves across the open area shivered. The others, not understanding the Draconic speech, concentrated on the copies of the Treaty documents that Malcolm had handed out. There were only a few copies, so several had to double and triple up to read it. It took a little while, but it was almost done. There had been some exclamations of surprise when the origins of the Treaty had been revealed in the documentation, and a couple resolved to do some extra research, if possible.

Hermione felt like her brain was being stretched by this new information. She hadn't had the slightest clue that there were human-dragon interactions like this in the past, since the histories that she read was extremely light on such things. It seemed to her that all dragons had been written to do was kill humans.

Daphne and Tracey felt the same way, if not more so. Tracey stood up for a moment and stretched, catching sight of the Horntail's golden eyes assessing her for a moment. It seemed like she was being stripped down to her soul and weighed in some kind of dragon accounting. She jumped and nearly screamed, until she remembered that she was here for… something that the girl was sure would have normally been a hallucination or a dream fueled by some odd potions. She poked Hermione in the shoulder. When the bushy-haired girl looked up, she muttered, "Is it like this all the time with Potter?"

Daphne looked up, obviously wondering the same thing. She was surprised to see the other girl consider the question carefully, instead of giving them an immediate denial. She saw that the mother Horntail was giving her an assessment of her own, so she stared back in defiance. She was surprised to see the dragon grin at her. This was sight that made her a bit more wobbly in the knees and Daphne wrenched her attention back to Tracey and Hermione.

"Pretty much. You learn to just go with it. Makes it a lot easier to deal with. You get used to it after a while."

Tracey and Daphne traded looks that Hermione ignored while looking at Harry conversing with the dragon again. She was looking at where the leaves had been trembling for the past few minutes.

"I wonder what they're talking about?"

"From the blush on his face, we probably don't want to know."

"Or we do and use it to tease things out of him later."

Hermione regarded them for a moment.

"Good point. I'll find out later."

There was a rustle from the side of the area as the shivering leaves parted. Harry heard Tessaies mutter ~~ Finally! ~~ and decided not to ask what she had been waiting for. The rather pointed vermillion snout poking through answered for that thought.

Charlie and Malcolm looked at each other.

"Charlie. Please tell me that's not the Welsh Green coming into here. I've barely got myself able to handle the other three so close."

"I don't think I can do that, Mal. It looks like she's coming… and someone's with her? Is that somebody actually right there with her?"

All eyes turned to see a lithe blonde skipping along next to the large dragon. Harry turned to the Horntail.

"Please tell me that's not Luna Lovegood."

~~ If this 'Luna Lovegood' is someone that looks like that person, acts like that person, talks and thinks like that person, then it's probably that person. ~~

From across the area, they saw the blonde say something to the dragon. There was no telling what was said as it seemed to be more whispered than anything, but the reaction was clear. Everyone could see the befuddled face on the giant reptile. Harry groaned.

"Yep. That's Luna."

Tessaies looked again.

~~ How do you know? ~~

"All I have to do is follow the confusion. You get used to it."

Harry watched as the green dragon got a hug from the girl and stood stock still scratching behind an ear with the oddest facial expression. He understood completely. As the blonde skipped her way closer to him, he could see that it was indeed Luna. A part of his mind wondered if she had a quota of magical beings to confuse every week and another part of his mind wondered why he wondered that.

"Hello, Harry!"

Before he could respond, Luna bowed to the Horntail.

"Greetings, Mother Eminence. The Conclave is Sealed."

A flash of magic accompanied her words as a minor rumble rolled through the ground. Draconic eyebrows rose in surprise, as human eyebrows rose in confusion. Tessaies dipped her head in Luna's direction.

~~ Greetings to you as well, little moon girl. The Conclave is Sealed. The last member has arrived, as necessary, and we can begin discussing what needs to be done.~~

Harry translated this to the others. Hermione was her usual inquisitive self, although from the looks on the faces of the other two girls, they were not that far behind. Charlie leaned toward the other dragon handler.

"Mal, what's this Conclave she's talking about?"

"You're asking me?"

"Yeah, I figured I'd ask before you asked me."

"Thanks a lot. Aren't you supposed to be gibbering in fear at the sight of four mother dragons this close, without any restraints?"

"And embarrass myself in front of a girl that grew up practically next door, weighs a third of what I do, and isn't having that problem at all? I'd have my pay docked for the next six months."

He was interrupted by a hissing speech from the Horntail.

~~ You can embarrass yourself well enough without the moon girl's help, Lángoló haj. I've heard the stories and seen some for myself. It makes for a very entertaining night between the four of us to compare stories of the things you all do. Especially when there's nothing better to do. ~~

The sound of dragons laughing was distinct and Charlie shot a look at Harry out of the corner of his eye.

"What did she say, Harry?"

Harry told him, then asked, "What exactly did you do?"

"Uh. Never mind what I did."

There was another hiss and laugh from the Horntail, who had by then curled up on a patch of thick grass to watch them. The other dragons didn't laugh this time. Annika had gone back to rolling around for a bit and the other two had rolled their eyes at the comment. If Harry didn't know better (and he wasn't too sure about that,) he'd say the mother Horntail had been waiting for this moment for a while.

"Harry?"

There was a grin on Harry's face.

"She said that she's raised drakons for a long time. A mother knows what her offspring get up to, one way or another. Even if another mother has to tell her first, then she handles her offspring."

Charlie's face went white as a mental image of Molly Weasley carrying her special wooden spoon – the one that never touched a pot or pan – flashed before his eyes. He remembered that spoon well.

Malcolm looked at him.

"Charlie?"

"Er… Nothing, Mal. Not a thing. Nope. I'm not saying a word."

Harry snorted. The mental image of Molly and Tessaies sharing a pot of tea and an apple pie while commiserating over what their respective boys had done to get into trouble and what to do about it kept coming up. The thought of sharing recipes and whatever shops had the best prices for stuff didn't help. Pushing it down got harder and harder and he focused on Luna. Maybe she could distract him.

"Luna? Did I hear you say something about a Conclave?"

She smiled at him.

"Of course, Harry Potter."

He waited for a moment and sighed. Sometimes he was sure Luna did this deliberately to mess with him.

"Okay, what's a Conclave?"

"It's a secret meeting, of course. Don't you Gryffindors have a dictionary anywhere in Gryffindor Tower?"

The two Slytherins chuckled at the look on Harry's face.

"Luna," he whined.

She took pity on him even as Tessaies bumped him with the back of a talon in reproof.

"A Conclave among dragons is a meeting that determines a course of action when presented with a choice. Something happened at the First Task with the Mother Eminence that meant something had to be done about that something."

Harry noticed that Tessaies was nodding her head slightly.

~~ Speaker, during the course of this gathering, you must be sure to translate what is spoken exactly, no matter how painful it might be to you or someone else. This is very, very important. Do you understand? ~~

Harry's jaw tightened as he thought about some possible subjects that he'd rather not discuss. Tessaies noticed, and the knuckle above the razor-sharp talon gently rubbed his back. The whole knuckle was as big as most of his torso, but somehow she was able to do it without knocking him over. She had far more control than Hagrid did.

Hermione looked at her, then at Harry.

"Harry? What did she say?"

"She said that I have to translate exactly, no matter how hard it might be for me or someone else."

Hermione looked at the mother Horntail again and nodded. The resolute air hovered around her as she spoke.

"Well, she's right, Harry. This is an important meeting. Very important, if I'm reading the mood right."

"Yeah, I got that."

~~ To cut to the chase, as I've heard some of your kind say, I've decided to act in your best interests based on things that I've seen and sensed, young Harry. As you may or may not know, dragons of any breed have specific senses. I have a deeper connection to Magic, whether what you call Magic or what dragons draw upon. Annika has sound magic – although she sings terribly. ~~

~~ Hey! I like my singing! ~~

Everyone noticed that Harry didn't have anything to translate after that declaration. Tessaies went on.

~~ Quiangya has fire magic, thanks to the specifics of her breed, while Rhiain has a magic similar to Annika but specialized to music of any kind. ~~

There were no comments about the green dragon's ability to sing, Harry noticed, although there was something that could be a smirk on her face. Apparently Annika didn't notice it. The others listened carefully to what Tessaies had to say.

~~ A Conclave suggests that there are specific members that need to be present. This is no different. We dragons, of course. Harry for his Speaker abilities and as the subject of the meeting. His soulmate, Wildness of Mane for the obvious reason. ~~

Hermione choked a bit and the other girls stared at her. Tessaies went on.

~~ The other females are to be considered her Ladies-in-Waiting for the purposes of this Conclave, not mates to Harry – jokes aside – but they have a purpose outside this meeting as well. That will be discussed later but for now, we will say that you four have a role to support him. One as Mate, three as not, just to be clear. ~~

The five looked at each other, wondering what else. Luna looked a bit disappointed, although what about no one could say for certain. The dragon handlers wondered what their roles were to be. That was next.

~~ Lángoló haj, Fiery Mouth, the two of you are the most trusted of those that walk with dragons and therefore are asked to be part of this Conclave in order to publicize it among other dragon walkers. Will you do so? ~~

Charlie and Malcolm waited for the translation and everyone could tell they were surprised. They turned to the Horntail and bowed after they had a chance to think. She regarded them closely, staring in their eyes one-by-one, and they stared back. She stuck her nose closer and puffed smoke on both of them and licked Charlie.

"Okay, I have to ask. Why did she lick him and not me?" Malcolm wondered.

~~ He spends more time talking to us and making us feel pretty. ~~

Eyes went to Charlie and he blushed.

"Get on with you all! It's a nice thing to do!"

"Sure, Charlie. Wait till Warren hears about this one. We may have to have more prophylactic shipments!"

~~ Prophylactic shipments? What are these? ~~

Rhiain perked up.

~~ I'm curious, too. ~~

Quiangya shrugged.

~~ I've never heard of this. What is it? ~~

~~ Ooo! Is this something new to wrap my jaws around? ~~

Everyone looked at Annika.

~~ What? I get hungry. ~~

Harry looked at Malcolm.

"I'm not telling them what it is. It's alllll yours."

"Uh, Charlie? A little help?"

"Nope."

"Girls?"

Four sets of feminine eyes, unsettlingly similar in steadiness to the dragons', speared him and told him he wasn't getting any help from them. Malcolm looked up at Tessaies, who was waiting for him to explain without saying anything. Three other sets of draconic eyes waited too.

"Uh… well, um..."

|:-:|

Ludo Bagman had problems. No one could have predicted that the Potter kid would have handled his Task in the way that he did. The dragon had acted downright motherly toward him, which in a way made some kind of sense. She was a mother, after all. Scrawny kid, short, looked like a stiff breeze would blow him away sometimes. What mother worth the name wouldn't want to stuff him with food?

How he was the fabled Boy-Who-Lived made him wonder sometimes, but if he did stuff like this then maybe there was something to it. He'd kill to have a reputation like that!

Thankfully he was just barely in the black with some of the side bets that he had running with different bookies. For a little while he was concerned that he was going to have a shortfall occur like with the Quidditch World Cup. He wasn't clear of that yet, but maybe if things went his way with the Potter kid there would be a chance to breathe.

No, the problems he had right now was trying to find something to wear. The outfit he was wearing during the First Task didn't quite survive. It didn't matter if the cause was the burning or the soiling, it was clearly ruined. Bagman pulled several things out of the traveling trunk that he had brought with him and struggled a bit. He didn't remember things being quite this tight on him the last time he wore them.

Maybe a resizing charm would help.

He started to apply one to the trousers until he saw the magical band around the waist that indicated how many charms could be applied to the garment. It was throbbing a bright red and he groaned. There would be no more resizing of these. And these were practically brand new, too!

He dug through the trunk, throwing clothes everywhere. Most had the same band that indicated that he was in dire straits. Finally, he found something that would serve until he could go into Hogsmeade and look for a tailor. His financials were a bit… strained… but he had to have something to wear as the face of the Triwizard Tournament! He couldn't wear just any old thing!

He resolved to look into making a sure bet. Surely there was something. Someone had to be betting on something in the castle – they did before he got to Hogwarts as a little firstie and he was sure they did after he left. He just had to find it. Somewhere.

Inspiration struck and he tore out of the room with a wince for pinched body parts.

|:-:|

"Jack of diamonds for the grumpy intern number one, nine of hearts for the dealer, two of spades for the grumpy intern number two, and… look at that… another ace for the Charms professor."

The cards were dealt face down but the dealer, which this time was Madam Pomfrey's intern Mister Pierce was rattling off card names just to mess with the others. Professor Flitwick took his cards with a grin.

"Oh, how I've missed this."

"Playing poker with experienced players? Madam Pomfrey taught us everything we know."

"Is that so? Well, good. I'll bet ten."

Everyone else tossed in the appropriate special tongue depressors that Madam Pomfrey had 'liberated' from somewhere and marked with different denominations. The small slats of wood weren't necessary for a magical hospital, but she'd decided that it fit the theme as well as anything. Another round of cards were dealt.

"Did you hear what that Potter kid did this time?" McCoy mumbled, his attention on the cards in his had.

"No, what? Is this about the dragon again?" House grumped. His cards weren't exciting him at all.

"No, we all know about that. No, he was going around looking for something to clean off the cover of a book he had with him. He looked frantic, too. Whatever magic he was trying wasn't working for him just then."

Chuckles went around the table.

"Considering who he got matched up with, it's probably a good idea not to mess them up in the first place."

Flitwick chuckled.

"You have no idea. I think I'll raise a sum of twenty for you babes-in-arms."

The interns rolled their eyes, but threw in the twenty. Professor Flitwick was probably older than the sum of their ages by half, anyway.

"So did he find what he needed?" House asked.

"Yes, and just in time, too. She came walking up and he presented it to her. He had one hand behind his back and dropped whatever it was in the bushes. She kissed him on the cheek and went on to class. I thought he was going to faint in relief when she left."

"So what was the problem exactly? What did he do?" Pierce asked.

"Somehow he got mud all over the book – and it was her book. Name written in it and everything."

Grimaces all around the table. Better him than them in that case.

"Maybe I should discuss some of the lesser-known cleaning charms the next time he's in class," Professor Flitwick mused. "It might be fun to see if he changes color."

Everyone chuckled at the thought.

"Well, I'll have to wish him some good luck and I don't mean just in this Tournament," House said.

Eyes met around the table, and he went on.

"That too, certainly, but what I meant was don't mess with a bookworm's books. Especially if said bookworm is female. If he hadn't, he would have had to sleep with one eye open. Don't ask me how I know. I'll throw in another twenty."

A set of tongue depressors, all colored green and marked with '20' on the ends clattered into the middle. There was a silence deep enough that the rasp of the cards hitting the felt of the table was heard.

"I'm out." House sounded disgusted as he flopped his cards down.

"Not me. What about that Lovegood girl? I hear she's got a dab hand with the animals in the Forest. Well, not so much the acromantulas, but you know what I mean," McCoy mused.

"You're telling me. A couple of weeks ago, I saw one of the centaurs looking like he'd been whacked right between the eyes from something she said." Pierce chuckled.

"What was it?"

"You think I'm stupid enough to ask? I like myself looking unwhacked, thank you. Let's make this interesting. How about fifty for the last round of cards?"

Flitwick and Pierce threw theirs in right away and McCoy hesitated as he looked at his hand.

"Len?"

"Nope. I'm out." The cards dropped to the felt. Pierce looked at Professor Flitwick.

"Well, old man? Me and you. So what would that Lovegood girl have said to a centaur?"

"She's very, very intelligent, but marches to the beat of her own drum, so to speak. I wouldn't be surprised if she had said something esoteric that they didn't know she knew. How about another fifty?"

"Sure. And raise you a hundred."

"I've always wondered what a poker game with Miss Lovegood would be like. I'll see your hundred and call."

The others shivered at the thought of a Lovegood poker game.

"Four of a kind! Nines and King of Diamonds!" Pierce crowed.

Flitwick stared at the cards then looked up at the intern, who grinned.

"Before you throw your cards down, let's do something different. I've gotten a few of these hundreds from the game tonight and they're just sitting there. I'll throw in another hundred and you match."

The half-Goblin raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not sure about that."

"C'mon, whaddya say? If that Potter kid can face down a dragon at his age, you can do an extra bet at yours, right? Whoever loses has to pay the pot in Galleons."

Professor Flitwick ignored the sound coming from the other interns as he looked up at Pierce, then shrugged.

"Sure. I've been saving up my pay for things like this. A bit of excitement is good for the heart every so often."

They tipped in the gold tongue depressors with ornate 100s on the ends.

"Okay, old man, whatcha got? Remember, I've got a four of a kind."

"You sure do. Here's my hand. Card by card. Ten of Spades… Jack of Spades… Queen of Spades…"

Pierce's eyebrows was rising, and the smirk was falling off his face.

"King of Spades… and the last card," Flitwick flicked his wand, making the card spin around too fast to see. It slowed down and flopped down on the stack and looked like it was gasping for breath. "That would be an Ace of Spades."

Pierce stared down at the cards, his mouth wide open. McCoy spoke up give him a change to recover.

"A Royal Flush. Damn." They stared at the cards for a bit. "So, Professor, where did you learn to play poker? I didn't think Goblins played human card games."

"It's amazing the things you can learn when you travel the world," the professor grinned. Pierce still hadn't said anything. "There's something you three haven't learned yet."

"Oh? What's that?" House wondered.

"I taught Madam Pomfrey everything she knows about poker. Goodnight, gentlemen. Pleasure to play with you."

Flitwick gathered up the pot of tongue depressors, waggled them at Healer Intern Pierce before sliding them into his pocket and left with a chuckle.