Chapter 30
Revolutions
Tessaies had a lot on her mind as she looked at Sirius Black. Everyone was now waiting for the jury verdict and no one knew when it was going to be released. There were ongoing little problems about the Dragon Quarters that needed to seen to, the results of the 'medical exam' of Harry that the non-magical healers had found, the couple of sick dragons that got into something that they shouldn't have and wouldn't tell anyone what it was out of embarrassment, Annika's latest attempt at singing, and two or three other things. The Mother Eminence wondered if her other counterparts all over the world had these kind of things to worry about. The thought of another Annika somewhere else was a concerning one.
So was the thought about having a second Annika at Hogwarts, or even a third.
Whatever she had to worry about, it paled in comparison to what the human had to worry about. Or so it seemed, since he was so distracted that he hadn't even noticed the presence of a fire-breathing dragon approaching. He'd come to her with the obvious signs of some question or something on his mind but once there had just stood there. There was nothing coming out of his mouth, which was working itself open and closed without any speech of any kind.
"Sirius Black." The voice was stern, but the sensual undertones that the translation charm added to it made the attention-getting attempt sound a bit silly, or so she thought. Not for the first time, she wondered what Hogwarts drew from to assign the sounds of the voices. Also not for the first time, she wondered who had made the arrangements in the makeup of the charm. It couldn't be the puckishness of the Castle's magical essence being at total fault.
Tessaies watched as the man looked up at her in response to hearing his name. He looked lost. So very lost and it caught her maternal attention. Despite herself, she found herself comparing it to a similar look she had seen on his godson's face and frowned. She knew that they were related somehow aside from being godfather and godson, having perceived some of the things that they shared in their magic and the very faint familial features that often went unnoticed by the humans. It didn't matter to her, but it was something to remember for future discussions.
Even though the humans had different colored eyes, the faintly haunted look in both was similar and the mother dragon sighed. Her maternal instinct was very awake now and demanding that she handle this.
"What's wrong, Sirius?"
The soft question that came from the large dragon made him blink, and belatedly she remembered that his own nest-mother had been… less than suitable, if some of the stories could be believed. It was no surprise that he wouldn't have many ideas on how to respond to something like that. She sighed again and decided that if it worked for Harry, then she would see if it would work for Sirius.
With that thought, she curled herself up and extended a forearm to hook a talon around the surprised man. He wasn't given a chance to resist before she gently cradled him in the crook of her other forearm. Tessaies was glad that Harry was elsewhere with his friends at this moment, as this could get heated – in more than one way. There wasn't any way to tell how the Azkaban escapee would react.
"Talk. What's bothering you?"
The heat emanating from her blood flowing under her scales along with the natural furnace all dragons carried served to relax him quicker than she'd thought, until she remembered a few overflights of Azkaban in her younger years. Tessaies remembered the chill she'd gotten even from a distance and realized that for the rest of his life, Sirius Black would probably always have problems staying warm without help. The experiences he had suffered in that place would mark him, she was sure.
Tessaies made yet another mental note in a long list of things to do, but said nothing to him. It would take some doing and besides he didn't need to know what she was up to. At least, until she was ready for him or anyone else to know. Quiangya would know in short order, especially since in some things she was more vindictive about things. Being here at Hogwarts and being around the children had sanded some of her points off. There were plenty left, of course, but no one mentioned them out loud.
The magic contained in the being now cradled in her forearm was unsettled, trying to find an equilibrium in order to help him. There wasn't really anything that she as a dragon could do, but there was something else that a mother could do. He was older than Harry, but it might still work. She was older than Sirius. Tessaies took another look at him before she acted on her impulse.
She starting humming to him and rocking him gently, soothing Sirius' disquiet and getting him to relax. It didn't take long for him to close his eyes and do that odd buzzing noise that some of the humans did. For now, his brow had smoothed out just a bit and he was at some measure of peace. It was almost as peaceful as her clutch of eggs, if not as warm.
Tessaies rocked him without much thought and pondered what her next move was going to be. It was time to advance her plans some more. That egg that Harry had all but forgotten was still on her mind and she still had some talking-to to do.
|:-:|
Madam Bones was thinking about her own plans right then. The verdict was a foregone conclusion, or at least it was to her. Other things had primacy in her thoughts at the moment. She was not sure how to handle the possibility that Sirius would confirm a blood feud with Umbridge. It had been obvious to all present that he was shocked at the news on top of everything else – the time he'd spent in Azkaban, the proceeding of an actual trial, the things that Harry and his cohorts had dealt with already. The woman chuckled to herself a bit darkly as she thought about the addition of dragons to the whole mix.
Even with everything Amelia Bones had seen in her job, she was well aware that she would have run screaming naked into the street if she'd had to deal with everything Sirius and his godson had and whatever else that had to be coming next – and something had to be coming next. It beggared belief at times to think about the events that happened so far.
On top of all that, there would have to be plans made for reparations to him. There really wasn't many available to choose from, since people usually didn't survive the wizarding prison for that amount of time without their sanity intact. Even now, the Sirius that came out wasn't the same Sirius that she remembered. There would have to be things arranged. Treatment, monetary arrangements, review of procedures. That last was something that she was particularly interested in, since until recently she was sure that when someone was sent there, that person richly deserved it.
She grimaced as she remembered Fudge's actions with Rubeus Hagrid. That was something that she should have looked into despite all the roadblocks the man had thrown up. Well, that was something that she was going to address too, and if he didn't like it, then tough. Madam Bones already knew she wasn't going to like it.
Another darkly amusing thought percolated through all the others.
"Maybe I should mention the possibility of the Head of the Black Family declaring a blood feud on him just for being the head of the Ministry for imprisoning him. That would light a fire under his arse," she muttered to herself. That thought was so amusing that maybe she would mention it. Maybe not to Sirius or Harry, but someone close to either of them or connected in some way.
But who?
The answer was immediate.
"Remus Lupin. Another Marauder. Of course. That makes plenty of sense."
She turned back to her desk, reaching for the waiting parchment and her favorite quill. Had there been anyone to witness her work, they would have shivered at the cold smirk on her face as she thought about what to write. Her monocle's chain glinted in the light as it swung gently in response to the somewhat emphatic motions she put into her quillmanship.
The Head of the DMLE took several minutes to finish her letter, not having to debate wordings or phrases too much since it wasn't going to another government official. She had an ace in the hole, so to speak, since she and Remus Lupin had long ago hashed out a series of code words for a variety of situations. The bookish werewolf had gotten her addicted to Muggle spy novels decades ago after she wondered what he was always reading that wasn't a textbook. Even now, she sometimes pondered on the persistent mental image of a transformed Remus Lupin with reading glasses and a thick book cradled between his paws. She could just see a claw being carefully licked with a long tongue before turning a page.
She shook the thought out of her head and resolved to never mention that to him before turning back to her work. Those memories of fictional plots served her well in the construction of her letter and a bemused part of her mind wondered if she had been waiting for the chance to write something similar all this time.
The fastest owl that she had available to her sped off with her letter, looking pleased with the challenge Madam Bones had given him. Beat your last fast delivery record, she'd instructed him and from the way he'd rocketed off there was a good chance he would.
|:-:|
Albus Dumbledore stood at his office window and ignored Fawkes' snickering. What it was now, he didn't know and didn't want to know. Bloody bird had developed a more and more questionable sense of humor over the decades. Where it had come from was anyone's guess.
No, now his thoughts had been on the turmoil that Hogwarts was seeing. Granted, it was the most orderly turmoil that he'd ever seen. Even with all the changes that the dragons had brought with them, hardly anyone stood up and said anything against them with less than an inquisitive air. The few times someone had spouted off with some of the more silly pureblood nonsense, the punishments had been… well… creative was the best word that he could come up with. There was now a large chalkboard in the staff lounge detailing the more imaginative offerings and which one had come up with them. A smaller chalkboard had bets on which student would have the debatable luck to experience the punishments.
Even now, no one knew how the phoenix feathers got to this smaller board. Those distinctly showed selections for suitable wagering. No one also had any idea how who did the betting or in what currency, since none of the phoenix feathers belonged to Fawkes. He thought this was hilarious, too. No one knew how to get him to explain it, and the Sorting Hat refused to say anything about it other than to ask what was on the board.
There was some more-than-idle debate on which dragon had the most embarrassing ideas for 'punishment,' Annika or Quiangya. No one wanted to find out what Tessaies could come up with, not after overhearing what Domir had to say on the subject and some of the examples from his youth. He could laugh about it now, and did, but none of the students wanted to contemplate it for themselves or give anyone any ideas. The professors didn't either, or claimed not to.
The fact remained that Domir was a huge Hungarian Horntail, after all, and they weren't helped with any other facts to solidify that opinion on punishment contemplation.
It also didn't help that Jack was thick as the proverbial thieves with Professor McGonagall and had his own ideas on such matters. The thought of that single eye boring into an unfortunate mischief-maker's as the Scottish accent rolled over them in a fit of pique over some transgression didn't make for a warm and happy thought. Too many had experience with Professor McGonagall doing it – Gryffindors for the most part.
Dumbledore thought about the one-eyed dragon and remembered something that the Hat had remarked on. Apparently the Slytherins had found that he was practically their 'patron dragon' for reasons that neither he or they could quite explain. They'd had issues to begin with. His temper wasn't conducive to their sense of cunning, they'd all agreed, but strangely they'd gotten along much better than anyone else would have thought after some adjustment. Now it wasn't so odd to see a gaggle of Snakes around the old dragon, listening to his many, many stories. Some even took notes.
It seemed to all that Jack had a soft spot for the Firsties of any House, too, and made for an excellent minder. He didn't put up with House divisions and had plenty of stories from the centuries of his life about the things that happened from such divisions. At Jack's age, he didn't need as much sleep as he claimed and was always up for 'educating the bairns' with his stories. The old dragon was careful to mind the curfew levels for each year and waited for the younger ones to go to bed for the more thrilling stories to be brought out.
It was always a packed house, so to speak, when he talked about Hogwarts' earlier years in the distant past. Granted, this was his first 'official' visit to the Castle, but he'd had plenty of knowledge about her and the things that went on. Jack just didn't say how he got that knowledge. Any direct questions was deflected and he'd go off into another story.
The Headmaster once asked Tessaies just how much of what Jack said was the truth, and she shut him down cold. Her reply had left him apologetic to her and even with that, she'd refused to talk to him about anything for a couple of days. She did spend a couple of hours glaring at his office window, which helped with the constipation from all the lemon drops at least.
The Hat had chided him for that. The Headmaster just wasn't sure what he was being chided about, since the Hat had harrumped more than usual in the midst of the chiding in question.
Now, Dumbledore stood at his window and wondered about what to do. The blood feud had been news to him. Unwelcome news, at that, since it explained a few things. He sighed. There was so much to do and it was on days like today that he felt every bit of his many years. It didn't help that most of the dragons saw his years as less significant in comparison to their own.
He sighed again, this time at Fawkes' renewed snickers at him. It took Dumbledore a moment to realize that he'd voiced that thought aloud for the phoenix to hear.
|:-:|
There had been quite a lot of discussion as everyone waited for Whopnehr to recall everyone for court to be in session again. They wanted to find out what the decision was, and what to do after that. There was a quartet of wizards eating a meal together at the Three Broomsticks and as with practically everyone else in the building, the topic of conversation was the dragon trial.
"What do you think about it, Graham?"
Graham finished chewing his bit of potato and swallowed it, thinking about both the question he knew was coming and whether he could hide another serving from his wife. He loved her, he really did, but she couldn't cook worth a damn.
"It's a real corker, Eric. Dragons conducting trials, and doing it a lot better than the Wizengamot? I wouldn't be surprised if by next week there's a bunch of people demanding dragon trials instead of going before the Mot."
"That'd be a kick in the bollocks, wouldn't it?"
"Or something. I know one thing. Nobody would want to be telling a lie on that witness stand, that's for sure."
Graham grimaced. His stomach was a bit uneasy at the reminder, but the thought of another meal was still strong in his considerations despite that. The other two men joined him in the grimaces, but said nothing while they ate. There was a lull in the conversation from the first two for a moment until they overheard someone at the bar.
"So Sirius Black didn't do it, Bobby!"
Whatever Bobby replied to the louder man, they couldn't hear, but it underscored the fact that it was too hard to lie in a dragon court. One of the silent men in the small group chose that moment to speak up.
"Wonder what Black's going to do now?"
"No telling, John," Graham said. "I'd have trouble deciding what to do if I were in his boots."
There was general assent at the table at that. Graham went on.
"What about that first memory, the one with that woman?"
"Woman? What woman? I saw a large toad," the other previously silent man spoke up. He grabbed a piece of parchment out of his abnormally large bag and started sketching something as the others chuckled at his comment. They waited to see what he came up with, knowing that it was going to be amusing. Then again, their assorted significant others and co-workers would say that whatever they found amusing would always be 'something different,' which didn't always work out to be a compliment.
None of the group cared, since they continued on regardless.
Terry continued scratching away at his parchment, the lines forming a caricature. The others went back to their conversations, knowing that he wasn't listening to them as he worked. Luckily for him since they were all in public, he wouldn't have a firecracker under his shoe or an egg placed under his collar. They resolved to make up for the missed opportunity next time.
"Umbridge was her name, right?"
John's question was met with a couple of grimaces.
"That's right and if I've met her once, that was two time too many," Eric said. "Trying to get usable quotes for a story is a lost cause. Might as well make up something."
Graham sighed.
"True, except even we can't make up shite like she can."
They all looked at each other, even Terry, who'd looked up for a quick moment before going back to his work.
"No, but d'ye think we might be able to get an interview with her to ask about that whole blood feud thing?"
"Not after the dragons get finished with her. I wouldn't be surprised if one or both of those law-dragons put her in the dock – er, 'Witness Perch,' sorry – in another trial."
"If Black doesn't come to a decision about killing her in his own blood feud first."
There was a general consensus.
"I would," Eric agreed.
|:-:|
One of the dragons already had her own opinions about that. The Short-Snout was not quite furious, but from the way she was stomping around the grounds, others could have been forgiven in holding that view. She was muttering things under her breath, the hissing speech away from the Translation Charm sounding much like the whistling of steam issuing from her nostrils. None of the humans on the grounds were brave enough to bother her, having seen the times that she had lost her temper and switched from the usually happy-go-lucky sort that she was.
Rhiain was seated on a somewhat flat part of ground some distance away. There was a raised portion that Neville had worked on for her still-somewhat sore belly, which had a profusion of soothing plants that her weight crushed and released oils that helped. Domir had helped him when the Healer found out what he'd hoped to accomplish. Professor Sprout had been very proud of her favorite student.
The advantage to her location was that it was in the zone for the Charm to work and Annika was just outside that zone. After her tantrum at the Castle and the new terms that the younger students had gleefully learned, she had been told in no uncertain term that she had to pitch a fit elsewhere. Especially, if she was going to be verbal about it. Annika had agreed, a bit ashamed at the thought of children learning bad words from her. At least most was in Swedish and they didn't think there were many with that language ability to know what was said in that tongue.
Nobody realized that some of the more crafty students with linguistic abilities and recording charms just sneaked closer to the Translation Charm to find out.
The Welsh Green shifted a bit to get some soothing to another part of her belly and watched the Short-Snout start to pace in a line instead of rambling in random directions. From long experience, she knew that her friend needed to work it out – whatever it was this time – and get onto her track. At least whatever was on her mind wasn't disturbing enough to have her shooting flames into the sky. The presence of some of the more colorful metaphors in Annika's speech was more disturbing than the fit of extreme pique. Where had she learned such language and who'd been the one to teach her?
For a moment, the mental image of two red-headed boys flashed into her mind as likely suspects. If that was the case, then she'd have to have a talk with them.
For another moment, she wondered if she could have a visit with the mother of those two. Maybe she would have some insight on dealing with them or something embarrassing to hold over them. Kirsa was off doing something for Tessaies, leaving her brood with the group at Hogwarts with stern orders to stay out of trouble.
Rhiain spared another glance at Annika, who was starting to wind down but was still steaming too much to talk to yet.
Hmmm. This 'mother's-visit' might be an interesting idea. She remembered overhearing some of Lángoló haj's stories about the things his mother did while dealing with all the drakes she'd birthed. There was a total of four males? No, six. Six and the female. That would be enough to turn anyone's scales grey, as close together as they were. She was sure there had to be plenty of stories to be had. Rhiain liked stories almost as much as she liked singing.
A mother had plenty of stories about all her offspring, she well knew. It would be fun to hear some of those stories. She thought about it for a few more minutes until Annika slumped down next to her.
"So, ready to talk about it?"
Annika gave her a halfhearted glare, which Rhiain ignored with ease of long practice.
"I'm upset with the things I've learned in court."
Rhiain nodded. Such machinations were ghastly even by draconic standards, who tended to be much more straightforward. She and Annika both liked Sirius Black, even as unsure and uneasy he was around them still. It would take him a good while to be as comfortable as Harry was, but that was most like due to his age and experiences. She decided to comment along those lines.
"Even if it takes him a while to get used to dragon family members," the two grinned at each other, although Annika's was still a bit tight, "he'll get there. Harry will help. He's younger and less set in his ways."
"Set in his ways," Annika snorted, her next words revealing some of what she'd been thinking about. "Or rather, her ways."
"Still upset about that toadish witch?" Rhiain was as well, but didn't let on. She could have her own fit about it later.
Annika nodded, knowing that her friend was determined to ask and giving in more or less gracefully. It had been that way for a long time between them.
"How in the world do these humans handle such… such… skitstövels in their weyrs?"
Rhiain had been wondering that herself, but with different terms, of course. She didn't quite recognize whatever Annika had said while in reversion to her native tongue but didn't need to. There were plenty of things in Cymraeg that she could think up.
"If they have mothers, then they need to listen to them," Annika muttered.
Privately, Rhiain was doubtful, considering some she'd observed. Some, if not most. The earlier thought that had been running around in her mind decided to come to the forefront.
"Hmm."
Annika looked up at the note of speculation that she could easily hear in Rhiain's humming.
"What? What thought just jumped into your mind?"
"I think it's time for a Mother's Conclave."
"Really?"
Rhiain nodded and went on, fleshing out the idea even as she spoke.
"It would have to be here, of course, since my idea of a Mother's Conclave would include mothers that aren't dragons."
Annika gaped at her.
"What? Are you serious?"
Rhiain paused for a moment, trying to remember the pun she'd heard recently but ignored it.
"I am, and I know the first one to invite."
"Who?"
Rhiain told her, which started a round of snorting draconic laughter.
|:-:|
"So let's get those sheep in that corral, and we can…"
Charlie stopped suddenly. His whole body felt ice-cold and he shivered violently. Malcolm jerked around to stare at his friend and drinking buddy when he heard Charlie's voice cut off.
"Charlie?"
Charlie looked up at him with true apprehension and a note of fear in his wide eyes.
"Oh, no. Not that. Anything but that."
"Anything but what?"
Charlie told him of his suspicions, which started a round of snorting dragon-handler laughter. It was increased when Malcolm told the others.
|:-:|
Quiangya stepped into Tessaies' Quarters quietly, having noticed that she was cradling a sleeping Sirius Black.
"Collecting humans now? Are you going to have Large Forest Guardian put up shelves to put them on? With tags?"
Tessaies rolled her eyes at the deadpan delivery and the unholy look of glee in Quiangya's eyes. The Fireball didn't get gleeful at anything unless it was to give someone else heartburn. By the look in her eyes, it was the Horntail's turn for torment.
"Why are you here?"
Quiangya waved a talon in the general direction of the Dragon Court.
"Half-hour warning. Everyone is to be assembled one half hour before the jury returns and renders its verdict."
"This soon? It hasn't quite been the four hours limit Whopnehr gave them yet."
"No, but I need time to go around and gather everyone." She looked down at Sirius Black, who was sucking his thumb in his sleep. "Should we tell the Speaker about that?"
Tessaies considered.
"Not yet. Wait until we need something from this one."
They looked at the sleeping human, both thinking of various things to 'need' later. Quiangya's voice broke the stillness.
"Mother Eminence?"
It was the tone in the Fireball's voice that got her attention.
"Don't wake him yet. I have a question, or maybe better an observation."
Tessaies glanced at her friend, seeing the fire in her eyes and the rigidity in her scales.
"Speak your mind," she ordered, knowing that Quiangya would do that anyway.
"The Speaker had a life before this that was something terrible, for humans. Even we as dragons who are used to a harder way of life wouldn't subject our recently-hatched young to trials such as the things that he endured out of maliciousness. I have two – no, three – concerns in this line."
"Oh?"
"One, his nest-mother." Quiangya saw the golden eyes start to flame. "No, his nest-mother from birth. This Lily human. The one that sacrificed herself."
Tessaies nodded for her to go on, anger abating for a moment.
"She would have likely have been alive if not for the actions of someone else, who is the same person that the Speaker struggles against. Well, one of the same persons he struggles again. Wildness of Mane and I have had some interesting conversations that he doesn't know about."
"Oh?" Tessaies didn't know this either.
"Shì de. That one has her own fire. I wonder if she was a dragon mother in a past life," Quiangya mused. "No, had this Lily lived, the Speaker would be different and not been placed with the nest-mother he has been with. That one is the one I – and others – are concerned with."
By the intonation in the stressed word, Tessaies knew that there would be a new issue brought up later in an upcoming Dragon's Council. Quiangya might be stand-offish, but she didn't countenance harm of a young one. This one that he now struggled against would be discussed as well, but it was clear that the nest-mother would have time on the agenda.
"Second – this… toad." All dragons found it difficult not to use the pejorative, and most just gave up and used it when they saw how easily many of the humans did the same. Tessaies merely raised an eyebrow, inviting comment.
"If not for her actions of this laughable 'blood feud,' that human by your talons would have been the one to rear the Speaker, who in turn would most likely have been in much better health."
"True, but on the other side of the weyr, we wouldn't have had the close relationship with the humans we now have. Well, some of them."
"The journey of many miles begins with the single beat of wing," Quiangya said.
Tessaies sighed. There she went with the inscrutable sayings again.
"Are you suggesting something?"
"If this Umbridge wants a blood feud, give her one," came the offhand reply.
"That could be arranged," Tessaies said after a moment. They stared at each other in agreement before Tessaies waved for her to continue with her off-talon.
"Third, this toad is part of their Ministry. If she is there, might there be others like her?"
Tessaies knew there was very likely more. They were creatures of fire and knew that fire existed where smoke did. This witch was smoke.
"I wouldn't be surprised. On your way, Quiangya," she said, acknowledging what the younger dragon didn't voice but still said.
Sirius snorted in his sleep and mumbled something about taking something all off, but what it was neither dragon had a clue.
Quiangya snorted in amusement and left to continue her mission. Tessaies carefully laid the human out on the chilliest part of the stone floor over a grate and reached for a waiting bucket. This particular bucket had been charmed with an evercold charm.
Sirius jumped up when twenty gallons of freezing cold water splashed over him. Tessaies felt a bit guilty when she suddenly remembered her thoughts about his body temperature.
"What the bloody hell was that about?" he spluttered.
"Time to get up. Jury's coming back soon."
"But I'm dripping wet and freezing now!"
"So hold still. I can dry you off."
"...dry me off? How?"
Sirius didn't seem all too enthusiastic at the assertion she gave him and in any event didn't have time to think on it much. She directed puffs of hot air at him and directed him to turn around in place with a talon. He did, grumbling when he realized that he was warmer than he'd been when he came in. He saw her snickering at him.
"What?"
"Nothing. Dragon humor – you wouldn't understand. Now let's go. You especially don't want to be late and upset Whopnehr."
"No, I suppose not," he muttered.
For the trip there he wondered why Tessaies didn't just fly there, even as short as the trip was on foot. She seemed to be enjoying something and he was so preoccupied that he didn't notice all the other snickers coming his way.
He did notice when he met Harry at the main entrance path to the Dragon Court and saw his godson's eyes get wide. Harry had been conversing with Perreh and broke off to greet Sirius. Sirius saw the law-dragon's eyebrow twitch and wondered what was going on.
"Harry?"
"Uh, Sirius?"
"Yes? What is it?"
"New fashion statement?"
"Fashion?" He looked at his clothes, which was mostly dry except for his underthings. Even dragon-heated air couldn't dry those out during wear and it was more uncomfortable than he wanted to admit. He hadn't changed clothes, since he didn't have other clothes to change into here and there hadn't been anything at Tessaies' Quarters. He didn't see anything different at all about what he was wearing, which didn't help him decipher what Harry was talking about or what had caused Perreh's reaction.
"Your…" Harry motioned with his hands around his perpetually messy hair that even dragons couldn't do much about for long.
Sirius was still a bit slow on the uptake as he was trying to figure out how to repay a multiple-ton Horntail for the rude awakening. It soon clicked.
His hair – the long hair that he'd had since about his third year at Hogwarts.
Sirius pawed at it, suddenly worried that it had been burned off with dragon fire. He noticed that it wasn't hanging down as usual, which prompted a bit of a suddenly cut off scream.
Perreh looked at Harry and quietly asked, "Is this normal for humans?"
Harry looked at Sirius jumping around with his hair bouncing around with him like an overfluffed dandelion. Unlike the dandelion, his hair stayed firmly rooted on his scalp. It wasn't a perfect sphere, but right at that moment Sirius perfectly fit every description Harry had ever heard with the words 'big hair' in them. As it were, Harry was sure that if he found a yardstick somewhere, it wouldn't be wide enough to measure the distance from side to side of the new mass of hair.
'Puffy' was a pale description of even half of what Sirius had on his head.
Perreh was waiting for an answer, so Harry gave him the only one he could.
"Considering my own hair, I don't think I'd be the right one to ask."
Perreh squinted at him for a moment, making him feel like he was being sized up for something, then nodded.
"Good point. I'll have to ask around and ask Whopnehr for one of the smaller memory stones to take around when I do."
"Uh…" Harry said, but Perreh didn't notice. He was already lumbering toward his client and talking about what he'd have to do when the jury arrived. Tessaies came up beside him, looking as innocent as possible. He squinted up at her much like Perreh had just done to him.
"You did something, didn't you?"
"Me? Of course not. You must be thinking of Annika. I've got too much else to worry about."
|:-:|
Elsewhere on the grounds, Fred and George shivered suddenly.
"Gred?"
"Yes, Forge?"
"Did you feel that?"
"That feeling of doom?"
"No, Mum's not around."
"That feeling of a million targets crying out in anguish?"
"No, but that's a good one. Remember that one."
"The feeling of someone horning in on our game?"
"Yes, that one."
"I did. Brother, I think we have some serious competition starting."
They didn't, but the uneasy feeling persisted and they didn't know how to dispel it. The Twins resolved to increase security around their completed merchandise, working stock, and notes and intellectual property. They couldn't be too careful, after all.
|:-:|
Sirius forgot all about his trendsetting hairstyle (he hoped, at least) when he got a good look at the stern look on the weathered visage on the judge. Whopnehr affixed a piercing stare at him and it seemed like the old dragon was staring into his soul and weighing every deed and misdeed ever performed. Sirius was so unsettled by this that he forgot to ask Perreh why Whopnehr was already here and not in whatever passed for chambers for a draconic judge.
Perreh didn't seem worried and neither did Dahne. Both law-dragons were conversing with each other as others filed into the area and found seats.
It took an hour or so, but everyone made it before the thirty minutes before the minimum limit to the jury's deliberations had arrived. Whopnehr scraped his talon over his stone after the fourth hour had passed and the conversation in the courtroom ceased.
"We will hear the jury's verdict delivered soon. There will be no outbursts of any kind or there will be stiff consequences." A talon waved toward the runes on the Witness Perch, which still glowed. "I will consider the verdict for a short period and either accept or reject it. Should I accept, then this matter will be settled. Should I reject it due to egregious misconduct, then it will be up to me to rule after carefully considering the evidence."
He looked out over the galleries.
"In either case, there are no courts of appeal. Today will end this matter, one way or the other, and I will not have any agitation. Of any kind."
The last three words were emphasized and the voice was grim, showing everyone what he thought of such eventualities.
The moment was broken by a young dragon hustling up to Whopnehr's stone pad and whispering in his ear. The old dragon nodded and dismissed the page, who scooted away rather quickly. Whopnehr's attention turned back to everyone watching.
"I have been informed that the jury has reached its verdict."
Author's Note:
I don't think I've done this in a while, but have some stats for Like Tenfold Shields.
FFN: Reviews (416) Followers (1,483) Favorites (977) Communities (22)
AO3: Comments stand at 346 (spoken in almost a Snapeish voice,) Kudos are at 674, and there are currently at time of posting, 192 Bookmarks. I post it now for those that might be interested in the near future (hopefully far future as well) to see how the metrics may have increased over time. I admit to some of that curiosity myself as I review earlier parts of this file.
As for personal things, I continue to plug away at this story despite all the real life things. Thank you for being there to read what I write in this virtual theater of the mind.