Chapter Seventeen

Cataphoresis

"Charged particles?"

Seamus looked askance at what Neville was trying to explain, without much success or knowledge what exactly a 'particle' was – much less how to charge it. It didn't help that Neville himself had little idea what it was, since Luna was less than clear about it. She had been very enthusiastic about it, however, even if Neville was past clueless about some of the things she went on about. He went along with it, since if it made her happy it usually made him happy. Confused, but happy.

"Something Luna said. 'Cata… cataph… forget it. Something long and unfamiliar."

"That's what she said!" Seamus crowed.

"No, she said…" Neville stopped and glared at the still snickering teen. "You know what? Forget it. I'll go find someone else."

He stalked off, ignoring the snorts from behind him. Neville was too busy grumbling to himself that the sudden "Ouch!" next to him almost made him fall over in surprise. He looked over to see Hermione clutching one foot and hopping around. The daggers coming from her eyes made him realize that he'd stomped on her foot while imagining Seamus Finnegan boiling in his treasured rum without knowing he'd done it as he passed her.

"Hermione?"

It took a moment for her to answer him, which made him more nervous. He could practically see the flaming checkmarks in her mind tallying up a list for payback for her abused foot.

"I came to find you," she finally said. "We need to get Annika and go to the Quidditch Pitch."

"Um. Okay. I don't know why, but okay. And sorry for stepping on your foot. I was… distracted."

She frowned at him.

"Let me guess, Seamus?"

"How did you know?"

She rolled her eyes.

"I've only known his brand of humor for how long?"

She had a point.

"Um..."

"Come on, Neville! No time to waste."

She did take a moment to shoot a minor healing spell at her foot, however, which made Neville feel guilty all over again. At least she wasn't impaling him with whatever she could imagine. Considering that this was Hermione, she could imagine a lot.

"Hermione, I really am sorry."

"It's okay. Now, I mean. Just watch where you're going, all right?"

She was already bustling out the portrait hole and Neville had to follow quickly or get left behind. It was a quick walk down the stairs and out the front doors. Neville was feeling winded and wondered where the girl was getting her energy from. He could use something that like sometimes. Not for the first time, he wondered if that was one reason Harry was so skinny – trying to keep up with her burned off the fat. Neville had thought that she was less than athletic.

It took him a moment to catch up, since she had steamed ahead to a point out in the sunlight and was looking around.

"What…"

Hermione ignored him.

"Annika! Are you here?" she called out. "I need you for a moment."

There was a loud crackling hiss from direction of the Black Lake and they turned that way to see a silvery head just above the surface of the water. It dove back underneath the water and emerged a moment later with the tiny tail of a fish poking out of the side of her mouth.

"Did you know there were fish in the lake?"

"No, but I guess it makes sense. The Giant Squid has to eat something."

Hermione and Neville watched as Annika swam over to the side of the Lake closest to the Dragon Quarters in a lazy curve. The ripples of the disturbed water lapped against the shore as they got there just before she arrived. Both knew that the Short-Snout could have powered through the water only slightly slower than she did through the air, but for some reason she was taking her time.

Annika clawed her way up onto the grass and sighed at the relatively warmer air that met her. Hermione eased to the side away from the dragon and Neville stared up at her. He was intrigued by the play of the sunlight over her scales and the ripple of the Lake's cold water as it drizzled off Annika. The flow of the water made him think about distribution systems in his greenhouse at Longbottom Hall. Maybe he could adapt something with their help.

That was, he was intrigued up until Annika shook out the mass of water still caught up in the spans of both wings.

Hermione snickered under her Protego as Neville was drenched with cold water from who knew how far in the depths. As far as she was concerned, that was sufficient payback for stomping on her foot even if Annika had no idea about that happening. She didn't tell him that, however.

Neville squawked a bit shrilly and hopped around, trying to get the water off. Annika hadn't noticed this until the noise he made caught her attention. The horrified look on her face was all Hermione needed to lose her composure and laugh her head off.

Neville was less than impressed with the humor of the situation, of course.

|:-:|

"So, Robbie would work for you?" Emma asked. "That was who you was thinking of, right?"

"Right in one. The question now is how do we contact him?"

Dan turned to look at his wife, who was looking back at him with a peculiar expression on her face. He facepalmed.

"We're at Hogwarts. There's a magical way to do things and Robbie is the father of a witch. Of course there's a way."

It had been a bit of a surprise to learn several years ago that Robbie Russell was a muggleborn wizard. He had sidled up to Dan at a conference when both was trying to avoid some of the more greasy characters that frequented such things and made their professions get bad names. Robbie was an oral and maxillofacial surgeon and had a different practice than the Grangers, as he specialized more in reconstruction after trauma than the usual dental clinic procedures. Still, there was a lot of overlap between their areas of specialty and both had been referring to each other as necessary.

Robbie had been surprised when his Slytherin daughter had come home over the winter break practically singing the praises of a Gryffindor witch and her academic achievements. He had been a Ravenclaw before going back into the Muggle education system and was fairly sure he remembered the everlasting rivalry between the House of Lions and the House of Snakes. It had won him several bets over the years, after all, and he'd been content to let the two Houses win him more Galleons over their predictable behavior.

The surgeon's level of surprise at finding out just who the Gryffindor was had been about the same as the level of feeling that said that much accomplishment was just par for the course. He'd known Hermione for several years and really wasn't astonished to know that she was at her class standing. It made too much sense to be anything else. He was proud of her, even if she wasn't his daughter.

The shock had been that she was also a muggleborn witch. This allowed the Grangers and his family to go about comparing notes. Too bad that they hadn't met earlier in Hermione's life, he had mused more than once with Dan over beers, since it could have made their lives better. Or at least easier to deal with, especially with the bouts of accidental magic that a younger Hermione had displayed.

"So what should we do?" Emma asked. "Hermione isn't here right now."

"Ask someone?"

"Works for me, but who?"

"Someone in red, of course. Hermione wears red trim, remember. So it seems best to me to find someone in Gryffindor."

Dan wasn't too sure, since he remember some of Hermione's letters mentioning that a good bunch of her house was, well, foolhardy. That was being charitable, if he was using his dad powers to read between the neatly scribed lines of her letter. Obviously Emma was using her mom powers to divine something else. Or maybe it was something female that was passed on from her to Hermione that was surely far past his ken. It wouldn't have been the first time they shared something between them that he was sure was less than aboveboard or some such like that.

While he was debating this in his head, Emma had went ahead and acted. Dan looked up to see that she was gently dragging a young woman with blonde hair the color of a sunflower's petals and probably the bluest eyes he'd ever seen behind her.

"Dan, this is Emily. She's a seventh year and she's going to help us."

The young woman looked bemused. Dan was less than surprised.

"Er, hello, Emily, I'm Dan Granger and the madwoman that's press-ganged you into helping us is my wife, Emma."

She smiled.

"Pleased to meet you, sir. You needed help?"

"We need to find a way to quickly get in contact with a friend of ours, who is a muggleborn wizard. He was a Ravenclaw when he attended here. He works as a surgeon now, so he would be in contact with Muggles like we are a good deal of the day and who likely are not aware of magic. So, we don't want to put him in a position to break the Statute."

"Oh, that's easy. We go talk to Professor Flitwick. He's the Charms Professor and the Head of House for Ravenclaw. I'm sure he'd have a few ideas."

"Wouldn't he be busy, teaching classes or whatever? I don't know what the timetables for today are like at the moment."

"It's the last class period of the day, so he will be free in about thirty minutes. Would you like me to show you the way to the Charms classroom?"

Dan smiled at the girl.

"If it's no problem, Emily. Thank you."

He thought to himself, she doesn't seem to be such a foolhardy girl in the least.

"I'll be glad to, sir. You remind me of my grandfather. He was such a sweet man, too," she beamed out a blinding smile as she turned to head toward the castle.

Dan's mouth fell open and he turned to look at his wife, who was choking on nothing as she stifled her laughter.

"They say older men are distinguished-looking," she managed to say.

"Traitor," he grumbled. He wasn't going to win this one, he knew, so he started planning for the next one. He was still behind on the Dan/Emma wisecrack wars they'd had their whole marriage. Sooner or later he was going to catch up, he was sure.

That was what Emma let him think, anyway, but she didn't tell him that. She gave him a look and a smile that stopped his thought processes and followed the Gryffindor.

It took him a moment to catch up and he found that his wife was chatting with the girl, who apparently had plans to go into Healing. If what he overheard was true from the things they were talking about, she was going to be a good one once she got some experience. He didn't know about the eye of newt he'd overheard being discussed, however.

Distracted from his plans of revenge, retribution and foot tickles, Dan asked Emily if she had a specialty that she was thinking about.

"I want to be a general practitioner for a while, until I see more of the field and literature. I do have thoughts about establishing a practice in the more remote areas of the world."

Intrigued, Dan asked, "Like in 'deepest, darkest Africa,' or something like that?"

"California, actually. Or maybe Florida. I've always wanted to try to figure out what a mouse has to do with running a magical kingdom. The possibilities of treating animal-based illnesses are rife for the discovery of them! But back to California, did you know that they have a place full of death there? As a healer, I'd fight death every day, but you'd think a quiet valley would be restful."

Dan looked at Emma, lost, only to see that she was struggling not to laugh. The girl went on, her medical fervor ignited by the things she'd read.

"Of course, death is but a form of rest – unless you're a ghost and can't pass on – but I personally wouldn't want to try it. Plus that mouse has another kingdom there, too. That's always been odd to me, having two kingdoms? Maybe it's the duck's kingdom or the rabbit maybe."

"Rabbit?" Dan managed to say with a straight face.

"You know, the one that goes back and forth and always forgets the left turn at Albuquerque. That's another thing. What's an Albuquerque? That sounds like a protein deficiency."

"Oh?"

"Well, it's a rabbit. I didn't think rabbits stood on their hind feet or wore clothes."

"Quite a few rabbits have done so, but considering the sheer number of rabbits out there, there's not many, really," Emma noted with a gleam in her eyes. "There's the White Rabbit, for one, and he's known to also exhibit a distinct neurosis about time."

The girl looked at them, appalled.

"Are you saying that I would need to look out for him, too?"

"It's possible, Emily, but as long as you keep your appointments on time you shouldn't have that problem. Granted, the field you're going into does have the issue about seeing your patients in a timely matter – things happen throughout the day in every clinic and practice in the world, you know – but other than that, you should be fine."

Dan nodded with a grave look on his face as Emma spoke and decided not to add to that. The girl was looking a bit queasy.

"Both of you look like you know what you're talking about."

"Well, we are dentists, dear. We've had our own practice for many years and while it's not in your desired field, it's still a form of healing. Dan and I remember many nights of study following many days of sitting in a classroom or following a more experienced teacher to ask what had to be a lot of dumb questions. For that matter, we remember a lot of nail-biting examinations too."

"Speak for yourself, honey. A photographic memory helps there."

Dan smirked at the bone of contention that they'd had between them since the first day of their medical education. Emma narrowed her eyes at him for a moment before smiling at him. Emily was confused, but decided to follow along with her fellow woman and smiled as well.

"Don't rub it in, Danny dear. I'm sure a magical couch sleeps the same as a mundane couch," she simpered. Dan's eyes widened and it was obvious that he was uneasy. It helped a bit that Emma's shot across Dan's bow had also sailed far over Emily's head.

"Err..."

Thankfully for Dan's peace of mind, Emily distracted his wife with a cheery, "And here's Professor Flitwick's office! He's not here, just yet. No worries – you can sit here and he'll be along soon."

There were a couple of benches to either side of the door that looked to be ancient. The Grangers wondered if they had been made at the same time as the building of the castle, or if it was something that magic had done. Emma thanked the young Gryffindor, who waved happily at them. They could see that she was distracted a bit, doubtlessly thinking over what she had learned during her conversation. It looked to them like she narrowly avoided tripping over things as she walked off.

"Wonder what assignments her teachers have set for her to make her miss that step?" Dan mused.

"Hush, Dan. It's stuff we'll never do, I'm sure!"

He watched the receding girl rubbing sore spots in the distance.

"Maybe, but messing with magicals is funnier than I thought it would be. It's a little sad, honestly."

"Not that it keeps you from doing it," she huffed. It was for show, he could see since she very carefully didn't mention recent conversations about rabbits. "Or for that matter, keeps the magicals from messing with you."

He couldn't deny that. His daughter had been getting the better of him for a while now. It didn't seem fair.

"Do you know what Professor Flitwick looks like? All I remember is that he's a bit short."

"Honestly, Dan, of course he's 'a bit short.' Hermione says that he's part-Goblin."

"Oh, well, that could be why."

Dan didn't say out loud that he was wondering how that would work, just as he'd kept his thoughts to himself when he heard about Hagrid's parentage. It was a bit confusing to think about, honestly.

They chatted to each other about the things that they had seen that day and was wondering about how the Whomping Willow got those branches when there was a noise from down the corridor. The two looked that way to see Professor Flitwick round the corner with his arms stuffed with various parchments, three quills behind one ear, and a happy smile on his face. A stack of books bound with a belt bobbled behind him as he walked.

"Well, I say! You two look to be different from the usual students needing help! I'm Professor Filius Flitwick. You must be the Grangers. I'd heard that you were on the grounds and had hoped to meet you during your time here."

Dan thought that the man… er, goblin… er, whatever he was seemed to have found his station in life. Flitwick seemed to have been born to teach and since he was here doing just that, he was happy. He remembered a couple of people in his school career like that. Their classes had been a breeze, and the dentist wondered if this professor's class was the same way. He'd have to ask his daughter later, or maybe Harry.

Or maybe find Emily and ask her, but he'd have to find a rabbit first. That would be too funny, especially if he could figure out how to dress it in a waistcoat and a watch.

Emma had taken advantage of his momentary wool-gathering and stood up to greet the Professor.

"Professor Flitwick! Yes, I'm Emma Granger and this is my husband Dan. We're Hermione's parents."

"A pleasure to meet you! Miss Granger is a pleasure to teach and not a day goes by that I wish she had been Sorted into Ravenclaw."

Emma thought about some of the letters Hermione had written home.

"You're the Head of House for Ravenclaw, am I correct?"

"Indeed, indeed! I have that honor and privilege."

"It makes sense. My Hermione has always been a smart girl – maybe a little too smart for her own good."

The short professor snorted into his fist at that. He recognized the look on the woman's face.

"Oh, excuse me," he chuckled. "What you mentioned is humorous, since 'for her own good' apparently tended to be 'for the good of Mister Potter and Mister Weasley,' if some of their adventures can be believed. I'm still trying to decide, myself."

"Oh? Walk with me, Professor. I want to hear about some of these."

They left Dan standing there, forgotten, as they walked off. Professor Flitwick had placed the classwork down next to Dan's seat to shake their hands and apparently had forgotten them. He was all to ready to brag upon Hermione's accomplishments, which her father could understand in all honesty. Dan bragged about his daughter as much as he could get away with under the magical restrictions.

He sneaked a glance at the top sheet, curious if magical school children had to deal with assignments the same way he'd had to for his education. The title read Application of the Duro Charm to Brace Tooth Decay.

"Wait, does the magical world have dentists?"

He looked up to see his wife and the professor steadily receding while deep in conversation, and realized that he'd better catch up. There was no telling what devilry Emma was getting up to with poor Flitwick, as he was sure his wife would try the same thing with the half-goblin as with poor Emily.

Dan gathered up the forgotten papers and dashed off after them. They still had to find a way to contact Robbie!

|:-:|

Unfortunately for Neville, things hadn't gotten much better. Hermione had hit him with a drying charm, which helped but didn't do much for the now persistent itch in his nose. The desire to sneeze was held at bay with the distraction about the strangeness of the dragons' discussion being held over his head.

"Did you know that female house elves have a third lung and male house elves have a third…"

"Thank you, Annika!" Rhiain said loudly. The Short-Snout had listened to Hermione and Neville earlier and insisted on finding Rhiain for some reason. "To get back to the subject at hand…"

Unfortunately for the Welsh dragon, the Swedish dragon was suddenly thoughtful and seemed to be pondering something.

"You know, a third hand could be useful too, with that third…"

"Anyway!" Rhiain said louder. She knew that she didn't want to know that much about house elves, and what she did know didn't match up with what the Short-Snout was saying. Rhiain was going to find a way to have a word with Quiangya about always finding something to do when Annika got like this and leaving her to suffer. Not for the first time, she wondered if the Fireball wound up the ditsy dragon with the oddest of things and sent her Rhiain's way for entertainment. If so, she was going to have to do something about that.

What, she didn't know, but it would be something.

Hermione looked at Harry, who'd arrived in the middle of this conversation wondering what was going on. He motioned toward Annika, who was expounding on something bizarre. Or was trying to at any rate. Rhiain seemed to be trying to redirect her thoughts without much luck.

"Do you have any idea what they're talking about?"

Harry was honestly confused after listening for a moment. He felt like he did after talking to Dumbledore.

"No, and I don't want to know. Do you?"

The look he shot at her begged her not to ask. She looked at the two dragons a bit doubtfully. Knowledge was to be treasured, but considering who had the knowledge at the moment...

"No, I don't think I do."

They looked at each other and at Neville when he was distracted with the dragons. It occurred to both of them that the conversation was reminiscent of something Luna would say. Like Rhiain, they thought more than once that Luna was winding people up for her amusement. Hermione knew she was one of those people that got wound up and Harry knew he had to think of a way to get Neville wound up.

"So why are we here?" Neville's question interrupted them.

The dragons stopped in their discourse and looked at him, Rhiain with a good bit of badly-disguised relief. Annika didn't miss a beat.

"You're hear to listen to me sing!"

"NO!" Rhiain shouted hastily.

Affronted, Annika pouted. "You didn't have to say it like that," she mumbled.

"Maybe not, but we're wasting time here. Sturdy Grower," she looked at Neville, "you're needed on the Quidditch Pitch."

"I am? But I don't play Quidditch. I barely fly." Neville's dubious tone was very evident.

"No, handsome, you're needed there to right a wrong," Annika said. "Wildness of Mane and her mother need to have a girls' talk with me! Isn't that wonderful?"

From the look on Neville's face, Hermione wasn't sure if he was more afraid of the unknown duty at the Quidditch Pitch or thought of Annika… talking… about feminine things. To be fair, she wasn't too sure about it herself. Annika saw her confusion.

"The Mother Eminence will be there as well, as she wants to have a word with this person, but Sturdy Grower must be there as both a member of his family and the godbrother of the Speaker."

Things clicked in Neville's mind as Annika looked deep into his eyes and everyone could see that his face got harder even through the remaining traces of chubbiness. He stood up straighter and Hermione could see the future Lord Longbottom of Longbottom Hall in the flinty expression of his eyes. She gulped, mentally hearing the Viking war drums being pounded as the runes in his hands illuminated. The ring of steel and clash of war hammers joined the war drums, she was sure.

Frankly, it scared her a bit.

She looked at Annika and thought as hard as she could, hoping that the dragon's greater mental abilities caught her thought.

He'll need Luna if this is what I think it is.

Suddenly, a calm presence spoke gently in her mind. It was definitely Annika, as even the mental connection couldn't help but be a bit… well, ditsy… but Hermione did her very best not to think about that.

Of course he does. His Moon Girl will always be by his side, no matter what. I will ask the Mother Eminence.

Hermione nodded at the dragon and quickly broke eye contact. The Short-Snout chuckled to herself and waved off the inquisitive look from Rhiain.

"I have a question," the Welsh dragon asked. She was looking at Hermione, who hoped that she wouldn't have to answer any embarrassing questions. That didn't seem to be Rhiain's rather proper way of doing things, but there was always a first time for everything.

"What?"

"The Quidditch Pitch is a good distance that way for you short legged humans, correct?" A talon indicated the way, and Hermione nodded.

"It takes me about thirty minutes to get there, what with all the turns and magical obstacles. Neville, maybe a bit longer, as he's not quite as athletic as Harry."

There was a sound from Neville at that assessment, and Hermione blushed. She met his eyes sheepishly.

"Sorry, Neville, but you know that's true."

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled, but couldn't deny it.

"Wonderful!"

Both magicals looked up at the dragon with no little sense of perplexity.

"Er, wonderful how, Rhiain?" Neville asked the question, a bit of his Gryffindor tendencies shining through despite a part of his mind stating equivocally that he was sure to regret the answer.

"Because I know of a quicker way to get there and who better to be a dragon rider, so to speak, than you?"

Annika actually clapped her paws together in delight, the talons screeching together and making Hermione and Neville wince. Rhiain appeared inured to the sound, although she did roll her eyes a little. Hermione started to object on Neville's behalf, but Annika plowed ahead.

"And if we can find Moon Girl in time, she can ride with you! Wouldn't that be so sweet!"

Hermione snapped her mouth shut. It would actually, but she didn't tell Neville that. She pulled him toward her, dimly noting to herself that it took a lot more energy to move him now that it would have in their first year.

"Not that I think this is really a good idea, but two things, Neville," she whispered.

"What?" His reply was in the same tone.

"Imagine what the rumor mill would say as you flew by on a dragon."

He thought about that and grimaced. Okay, so he wasn't too thrilled with the concept, not that she really could blame him.

"What's the other thing?"

"Luna might enjoy holding tight onto you. I'm not too sure that she's afraid of heights like I am, but wellllll… she likes to cuddle. What's better than cuddling on a dragon before anyone else can do it?"

He looked at her strangely.

"Whose side are you on here, exactly?"

"I'm really not sure, but I'd rather it be you than Malfoy. At least he hasn't yet started bragging about doing it already."

Neville looked up at Annika, who seemed to be lost in thought with a little grin on her face. As this was Annika, he wasn't sure that he wanted to know what she was thinking about and from the look on Rhiain's, she didn't either. As he looked back at the Short-Snout, the big blue eyes opened and she lowered her head to nuzzle him.

"She's coming! And so is she!"

"Er, what?" Neville asked. The other two, human and dragon looked as confused as he surely did, but there was no chance to get clarifications as Annika had sprang up into the air to wheel around. He glanced at Rhiain, who gave him the dragon version of the shrug they'd all learned to recognize as the flitter of her wings.

"Don't ask me. I've learned to just go with it when Annika gets started."

"Come along, Wildness of Mane! We have things to do and details to talk about!"

After that directive came to them from above, Annika slewed to the right and lazily flapped away.

"And I couldn't get a ride? Or know where she's going in the first place?"

Wisely, Neville didn't comment on her admission about her fear of heights. He didn't want to remind her about the foot he'd stepped on and have her decide to repay him.

After a moment of silence and pleading looks not to have to answer that, Hermione snorted and set off to follow the dragon. The snickers from behind her didn't come from Neville, she was sure.

As the sound of her mutters faded, Neville looked up at Rhiain.

"Okay. How do we do this?"

|:-:|

Following a flying dragon on foot was less than easy, Hermione had found out. She could tell that Annika deliberately flew the slowest that she could without stalling out, but it was a bit insulting that the Short-Snout had apparently needed to loiter in a circle a time or two. She resolved to get in some more exercise, since this was embarrassing.

Up ahead, she could see her parents shaking hands with Professor Flitwick. They apparently had come to some kind of agreement. Hermione thought about that and wondered what it possibly could have been about. Whatever it was, it was something that everyone must've thought was possible.

She could see her father holding a parchment and point out something on it to her Charms professor. The half-goblin nodded at whatever it was and seemed… enthusiastic? Even for his usually happy nature and from here, it was plain to see.

Hermione puffed her way toward the group, Annika having landed a short distance away. Emma was looking in the dragon's direction a bit nervously, but Dan hadn't noticed and neither had Professor Flitwick.

"Mum?"

Emma looked at Hermione.

"Dear, there's a dragon nearby." The sound of her voice was rather calm, and it took a moment for Hermione to remember that Annika had been the dragon pitching a fit on the Astronomy Tower for Emma to witness. The flames had been notable.

"Er, yes, mum, but that's Annika. She's not going to hurt us. In fact, she wants to get to know us."

"What?"

"She… um… she wants to…" Hermione was having trouble getting the words out, since she was still in some disbelief about it to start with.

"She wants to what, Hermione?"

Thankfully, the answer to the question was taken out of Hermione's mouth by the dragon ambling closer.

"We need to have some girl-talk, since there aren't any boy dragons around to mess up our plans!" Annika announced happily. "They try to show off too much and end up looking all kinds of stupid. And it wastes time that we could be better using to get things done."

Emma gaped at her, then gave her husband a speculative glance. Dan looked up, not having heard what Annika had said since he was deep into the conversation. He caught the look in his wife's eye and immediately wondered what he'd managed to screw up this time and not know it. Whatever it was, he resolved to find out if magical florists were a thing.

If so, maybe he could distract her long enough to find out what happened and how much groveling he had to do. Dan didn't think he had done anything in the last month, but better safe than sorry. He saw Flitwick's inquisitive eyes on him.

"What did you do, lad?" the professor asked softly.

"I'm not sure. I'm trying to think. The last time I remember was when I played the prank on her."

"What prank?"

"I put blue food coloring and a bit of glitter in her shampoo and shook it up."

"Oh, damn. What did she do?"

"She hasn't – yet. I think."

Flitwick grimaced.

"If you're thinking about the old standby, better get three. Remember who your daughter is. If they gang up on you, you're toast."

"Er… about that."

"Yes?"

"Sometimes they share shampoo…"

"And she can't use magic at home while on break," Flitwick realized with a shudder. "Let me get you some contact information for someone I know before she can use magic. You're going to need more than three bouquets, but you're going to have to tell them who sent you and why."

"Um.. Thank you, professor. You're very helpful!"

The short professor glanced at the trio talking among themselves and ignoring them.

"It's Filius, and we males have to stick together. Mothers teach their daughters things, you know. I hope Mister Potter there stays away from food coloring and glitter, as pranking literally runs in his blood. Your daughter and then your wife might get reminded of your transgressions, and then there will be no hope. None at all."

Dan thought quickly.

"What's that information, again?"

"Got it right here. I keep copies on hand, you see. It's amazing the need for such things."

Dan wasn't sure how to take that, but decided that the short professor had a point. He also wondered how often Flitwick made use of it himself.

Everyone looked up at the shout from the sky and stared. They could clearly see Rhiain flying at just above treetop level with Neville seated just ahead of her wing joints. Luna was seated behind him and seemed quite enthusiastic about the flight. Neville less so, but he was more focused on where they were headed.

"My word!" Professor Flitwick gasped.

Rhiain buzzed her sister dragon's position, who cheered the riders and did some kind of excited dance. The Granger girls scooted back a bit as grass, dirt, and possibly mud was slung around by Annika's rear talons.

Dan stared at the teens cruising by on dragonback. He had to admit that he felt a little jealous. Rhiain leveled out and climbed back to just above treetop level with a smooth burst of power from her wings. Luna happily screamed something that Flitwick blushed at.

"Does this sort of thing happen a lot around here?"

He didn't want to think about magical frat parties. Flitwick stared at him.

"You have no idea."

|:-:|

Barty Crouch, Junior awoke suddenly. He was bound to a platform of some kind with ropes made of something he'd never seen before, but his body felt like it was floating. He looked to the right and saw Quidditch stands, so he had to be on the pitch for some reason. What was Dumbledore doing?

He felt like a sacrificial lamb right now, which didn't help him with the disquiet buzzing throughout every cell of his body.

There was nothing worth noting there to his right, so he turned to the left. Only the presence of the tight bonds kept him from jumping in fear and shock.

The biggest black dragon he'd ever seen was barely a foot away from him. Just over the bulk of that dragon, he could see wings belonging to another one moving but that was all.

He knew that the dragons could converse, which was a shock, but he tried to use it to get out of his admittedly terrible situation.

"Do you expect me to talk or something?"

The large black dragon was unimpressed. She yawned, revealing row upon row of teeth that Barty Crouch, Junior was sure was nowhere near less than razor-sharp.

"No, Mister Crouch. You and I are going to have a conversation."

"That's all? Just talking?"

He jerked at the bonds, inadvertently pulling them tighter, and almost missed the reply.

"No, Mister Crouch. I've already told you. After our conversation, you're going to die. I just have some questions to get answers to, and I will get them."

He felt the ropes get warm and he looked down a bit desperately. They were actually gleaming! The sensation of his body floating got stronger and he realized that he was unable to move anything below his neck. Barty Crouch tried to crush the poison tooth, hearing in his memories, "The tooth! Remember the tooth!"

His jaws failed to close completely, rendering that method of escape inaccessible.

"Now then, my first question…"

Barty tried to scream, but that was cut off. The dragon tsked at him.

"Oh, don't worry. I'll give you plenty of chances to scream later. You and I have this area allll to ourselves. Well, except for certain others."

Her voice trickled over his ears in a sensual drop, even as smoke wafted around his head.

"Be aware that I am a dragon, after all, and with being a dragon… come flames. If I don't like your speed of answering, I will demonstrate upon a body part of my choice. You had a part in the harm of someone I'm responsible for and have come to care about."

The gleaming yellow eyes pierced him.

"I have questions. You have answers. I want them and I will have them. There is no escape, as I have this thing called 'diplomatic immunity.'

Whatever he was going to say died in his throat.

"Also, I skipped breakfast this morning."

Barty Crouch, Junior, passed out.

Tessaies sighed and reached out to his bare feet to snip off both little toes with her talons. The bound man awoke screaming as the dragon magic burned into the tiny stumps.

"I have questions. You have answers. I want them. I will have them, and I have no inclination to waste time. The first question..."

Author's Note:

I will leave the mama-dragon interrogation to your imagination (mostly.) Barty's not quite done yet, however. Tessaies does not play around.

After I posted the last chapter and went to bed (and before I got more distracted with Fudge Gets Told Off and other concerns) this story broke 700 followers on FFN and has grown since that point in the short break that I took. As of this post, we are at 849 and closing in on 900 followers! Thank you for every one of you that like my story enough to want to see what happens next. I'm very pleased to see it and humbled at the same time. Onward!

Also, I am finally acknowledging that I've gotten off the stick and added a cover image for this story. The image uses the Pixabay license meaning no attribution required, but I'll mention anyway that the user "MsAnas" contributed to the final result.