All the Colors

I change my mind. Letting the dragons hatch was possibly the worst decision I had ever made. Even worse than entering a dragon pit with the plan to read until the timer ran out. I should have let them die.

Snape was right…it would have been so much easier to let the cold take them. I should have left them in the storm, should have let the snow bury them. I should have cracked them open and made myself some omelets.

"Go away!" I cried, shoving the small body off my face as I rolled over to try and get more sleep. Try was the operative word. Behind me, they started to shriek. "Merlin! Shut the fuck up!"

"Ten points from Gryffindor," Snape mumbled from his sleep basin at the foot of my bed.

"Why?" I begged the question, kicking my feet out to try and shove at him. My toes barely reached the basin and touched his tail. He shifted away, tucking his tail more securely around him. "Why do they not bother you?"

I felt a tug on my hair, a clawed toe grabbing at my ear and then a small dragon was settling itself on the side of my neck and a wing was whacking my face. I groaned in annoyance but let the dragon do as it pleased.

Already I knew their pattern by heart, the one that had emerged only after a few days of hatching. I would push the dragon off – more than likely the dark grey one that I found loved to be underfoot at all hours of the day – only to have it come crawling back a few minutes later. The more I pushed it away, the more aggressive it became when it returned.

Blasted creatures.

"Because they know I won't tolerate that sort of behavior," Snape replied as I pried the wing off my face so I could breathe properly. It was true, I had a softer heart than Snape. Less than a day after the eggs had hatched and Snape had snapped and snarled at the mostly larger dragons until they left him alone.

He may have been smaller, but he was older and more aggressive. The way his fins stood and tail swayed while he bared his teeth was enough to even give me pause.

The smaller ones, the twins, were the absolute worst. They not only liked to get in the way, needy with attention as some of their larger siblings tried to bite them when they got close, but they also liked to cause mischief. Though the smallest, they were the only ones of the other ten hatchlings that still tormented Snape, tugging at his tail and trying to snatch his food.

Snape snapped back, growling and huffing as he puffed small jets of flame at them, but he never hurt them. His reluctance to do them harm was ultimately what allowed them to continue their torment. A loud snarl from the foot of my bed let me know that the torment continued even now.

"Worst decision…ever!" I hissed as I felt a small body collide with my foot where Snape had propelled it away. It continued up my bare leg beneath the robe to settle near my hip. Its tail tickled my stomach and I swatted at it.

"They're eating your shoe," Snape replied, and I groaned once more before throwing off the temporary blanket. Ignoring the loud screeching from the two dragons I displaced as I stood, I stumbled over to the four dragons that were playing tug-o-war with my boot. If it hadn't been dragon hide, I was certain that it would have already been completely destroyed.

"Stop that," I hissed, snatching away my boot and flicking the larger bronze one on the nose when it refused to release the shoelace. It hissed back at me, puffing small clouds of smoke in a threat. The snarl from Snape cowed the slightly larger bronze dragon and I gave him a grateful look as he fluttered to the ground and waddled closer.

I hadn't slept properly since the hatching. It seemed that though the baby dragons did sleep quite a lot, they only did it at a few hours at a time. Every three or four hours, they would wake me with the shrieking, clambering over me to get my attention, and generally making a bloody nuisance.

"You should have let them die," Snape grumbled as he climbed up my side, small talons digging little holes into my tank top that I would have to repair again for the hundredth time.

"They're just hungry," I replied, nails scratching along my neck as I pulled my hair into a low braid to keep it out of the way. I tied it with a bit of leather left over from the dragon hide scraps.

"They ate all the food," Snape added dryly and I spun to take in the remaining five dragons that were perched on the shelves, fighting over the last few bits of food.

"Dammit," I mumbled, scrubbing a hand down my face. "Would you watch them while I go grab some more?" I asked him. Only a few days old, I was wary of letting them outside the cave. Even though I complained and threatened, I knew it was all exaggeration. In truth, I cared deeply about the little dragons – even the bronze one who was a foul tempered little shit – and I feared that if let out, they would fly off before they were old enough to take care of themselves.

"You expect me to be left alone with these…these…" Snape couldn't seem to find the proper word to describe the hatchlings as he sneered. I could find a few, brats for starters.

"Severus, please," I begged, tilting my head to look up at him. I felt his tail unwind from my arm as his wings fluttered and twitched. After over a month of being stuck here – days scratched in black at the back of the grey book as accurately as I could remember – I had learned that the use of his first name with a little pleading would usually go in my favor.

Snape knew what it was I was doing, but he let me do it anyway. He even commented on how Slytherin it was of me, and then spent nearly an hour in silence when I told him of the hat almost putting me into his House. He never spoke of it again, but I had caught him staring at me with narrowed eyes more than once, like I was some sort of puzzle with pieces missing.

The small talons of his toes dug into my bare skin as he launched himself from my shoulder to land on the ice counter. Hissing and snapping, he scattered the five other dragons and forced them away from the where the food was stored…or had been stored at least.

Quickly shoving me bare feet into my boots, I made my way over to the exit while the hatchlings were distracted with Snape's display. I nearly tripped over my laces as I banished the ice I had used to seal the entryway, and crawling through before covering it once more. Once outside, I crouched down to tie my boots and looked over at our food source.

The dead horntail looked grotesque, completely skinned, organs harvested, and muscles carved. The meat on her torso was nearly gone, picked clean to the bone, so I moved onto her neck. Banishing the snow that lay upon the corpse, I started slicing off long slivers of meat, dropping them into the stone nest where the golden egg still lay.

Once I had finished, I stood there in the cold, letting my heating charm slowly die as the wind brushed my skin. The land here was quite beautiful, in an isolated sort of way, and I just needed a few moments alone, away from the chaos that was the newly hatched dragons. Leaving Snape alone with them for longer than was absolutely necessary was not advisable and considered quite rude. But I just needed a few minutes.

I turned my gaze up to the sky, blue and clear and incredibly bright.

The horntail was nearly at the end of what it could supply us – the baby dragons going through our food stores faster than I had anticipated – and I had no idea how we were going to travel with twelve unruly hatchlings.

Pulling a slice out of the pile, I cooked it quickly before doing the same for the others. Usually I would have cooked it inside, but I feared that the hatchlings, who were already gaining the ability to produce their own fire, would try to help and then we would find ourselves drowning as our cave melted around us. It was safer just to cook them outside – colder, yes – but safer.

Gathering the cooked meat into my arms, I carried it to the entrance of the cave where steps had been carved after I grew tired of sliding down the tunnel. The shrieking of baby dragons echoed as I sealed the tunnel behind me and entered the cave.

Snape was perched on the highest shelf, as far away from the hatchlings as he could get, hissing down at them as they attempted to climb up to where he sat. They couldn't fly yet, but their claws were sharp enough to find traction in the cave wall to climb. One of the dark red twins – I couldn't tell which – pulled itself up next to Snape and latched its tiny teeth on the meaty part of his tail.

The shriek that followed nearly deafened me, and I flinched as Snape shoved the little dragon off his perch and it tumbled onto the counter nearly four feet below. I rushed over, dropping the cooked dragon meat on the surface as I pushed the curious ones away from the fallen red. The bronze snapped his small teeth at me and shoved it off the counter in retaliation as I scooped the one up that Snape had pushed.

"Are you out of your mind?" I asked, cradling the dark red hatchling and cooing at it as it nuzzled my palms. It appeared uninjured, though a little shaken, and I soothed it softly as I pressed it to my chest. It latched onto my shirt and started to pull itself up along my torso.

The twin gave a chirping noise before it started to climb up my leg, head bobbing as it tilted back to look up at us. The one clutched to my chest replied with a warble.

Snape shrieked again, launching himself from his perch to land on my shoulder. He glared down at the red that was ascending my shirt, the rumble he emitted deep and full of dark threats. "Stop that," I hissed at him as the dark red hatchling began trembling. I reached up to grab it as it tried to climb into my shirt. Snape's tail wrapped around my arm and I cradled shaking dragon as it fought to distance itself away from the white dragon. "What has gotten into you?"

I crouched to place the struggling hatchling on the ground – its twin descending a moment later to join it – before shoving the bronze one off the counter once more when it tried to go for the meat. The chirruping started to grow louder as the twelve small dragons gathered at my feet, heads upturned, and mouths opened.

"These things are pests," Snape grumbled lowly, his tail flexing around my arm sporadically. "No wonder the Ministry has forbidden private breeding. They should all be put down."

"You're being ridiculous," the words came out as a sigh. Wand snapping into my hand, I began slicing the cooked meat into tiny bite size pieces, tossing them onto the ground and toeing at the dragons that started squabbling, trying to separate them. "You're not even injured."

I could see the part of his tail that the small red had bitten where it wrapped around my forearm. There wasn't even a mark. Snape grumbled some more, but he didn't reply.

At my feet was a sea of color as they hissed and grumbled at each other, gorging themselves on the cooked meat. "Why are they different colors?" I asked as I chewed on my own piece of meat. "I mean, I thought horntails were usually brown and bronze."

Now that I was looking for it, I was noticing a lot of dissimilarities. Only the two brown dragons, the bronze, and the bright red had the spiked tail that horntails were famous for. And of those four, not a single one had the beak.

"They're hybrids," Snape replied as I presented him with a small piece.

"Hybrids?" I asked, curious. "I didn't read anything about hybrids when Hermione and I were researching."

"You wouldn't have," Snape answered after he swallowed. "Reserves only want purebreds, they take steps to make certain that specific clutches are pure. The mixed clutches are usually harvested for potion supplies, or used for research."

"Is that why they used this specific horntail? Because her clutch wasn't pure," I was disgusted by the thought. What was with the wizarding world and blood purity.

"All of the brood mothers had mixed clutches."

I looked back at the squabbling hatchlings, throwing more food down to them. "What sort of dragon would cause such a wide variety?"

"None," Snape answered, snatching the piece I was about to eat myself and then promptly ignore my glare as he swallowed. "Dragons are like dogs or cats in that sense. They can lay a single clutch with every egg from another sire."

"Oh," I replied after a long moment. I supposed it made sense. I watched them devour the food and glanced back to what was left on the counter. Already we were down to less then half of what I had brought in. "We have a problem," I whispered to him as I threw another handful to the ground and brought a single piece up for Snape. He snapped it out of my fingers, lips brushing my fingertips, but teeth safely tucked away. "The horntail is almost picked clean."

His head tilted back as he swallowed and then accepted the next proffered chunk. "How much do we have left?"

My hands laid flat on the ice counter and I leaned on them as I sighed. Braid hanging down my back, I flipped it over my shoulder and started to play with the dark ends as I tried to figure out how much longer we had. "Probably enough for a week, maybe a week and a half if we can stretch it. The babies are eating more than I'd anticipated."

Snape hummed in thought, swallowing a fourth piece as I dropped more upon the floor. The twins were further back than the others, having been bullied out of the prime spots by the bigger dragons. One of the biggest, light grey in color, stood near them, hissing at the others that tried to get close enough to steal their food.

I really liked the light grey one.

"We need to leave," Snape replied, fluttering down to the counter. He poked at a few pieces of meat before snatching one out of the pile.

I turned around, watching the small dragons become fat, round, and sleepy. Leaning against the counter, I could feel Snape's heat as he shifted to press against my arm. "We need to leave," I agreed.

The actual logistics of leaving was a lot more troublesome than I had first imagined. It took nearly a full day of blasting spells at the dragon corpse to break the bones apart enough to use. Snape was livid, having spent hours alone with the twelve terrors, and he made certain I knew how annoyed he was the moment I returned.

I tried not to laugh but knew from his sharply narrowed eyes that I had failed.

It took six attempts to build the sled. The first wasn't stable enough, the second to small to be of any use, the third and fourth fell apart when the hatchlings tried to climb the floating pieces as they were assembled, while the fifth wasn't shaped properly to have me pull it if there was a reason I couldn't do so with my magic.

I nearly had to build it a seventh time when the dragons were finally allowed outside again after they had been banished to the cave until I was finished, and they had tried to pull it apart in the first few minutes. I worried at first, about letting them outside, but none had wondered off and soon I was distracted by the packing while Snape kept an eye on them.

It really was astounding. Less than a week old and all the hatchlings were already displaying individual personalities.

My favorite was the light grey one who stood several inches taller than almost all but the darker smoky grey. I had been poring over dragon breeds to try and identify their second half, and although Snape told me it was much too early and may never be able to tell, I was certain the two greys were part ironbelly. They were both even tempered and much larger than the others.

I was fond of the twins, both dark red and mischievous, though they were also both absolute menaces. The light brown was incredibly patient with the twins antics, and it could always be seen not far from the smoky grey.

The dark brown, pale gold, and bright red were also nearly inseparable, and could usually be seen quarreling with the larger black that tried to bully the smaller dragons away from the food. The silvery white one was aloof, not really interacting with the others unless it was the dark blue. They got along splendidly, and could usually be seen on the outskirts of the group. They didn't bother the smaller dragons, but they didn't go out of their way to help them either.

The bronze was my least favorite. That one was a nasty little shit, as foul tempered as its mother. If I hadn't known any better, I would have sworn it was pure horntail. The only other dragon it tolerated was the black, and that was only on occasion. Already Snape and I had to break apart numerous fights that the bronze had started for one reason or another.

They were all paying, stretching their wings as they attempted and failed to fly. The sight of them crawling upon the corpse of their mother left my stomach reeling and my head light.

Snape's dorsal fins stood erect as he watched the twins playing with the brown and smoky grey dragons upon the exposed spine of the dead dragon, his tail twitching sharply in small movements. Moments later, he was breaking apart the bronze little shit and dark blue dragon as they fought over a bit of dangling meat from behind the horntail's jaw.

The scraps of hide I had sewn together with magic and dragon tendon was stretched tightly across the sled, full of cooked dragon meat, what was left of my battle robes, bits of bone, teeth, spikes, and scales from the horntail, and Hermione's book bag. Flipping the loose half of hide over the items in the sled, I secured it at best I could and then stood there watching the hatchlings play. I was lost as to go about actually leaving.

"Do I…" I gestured to the frolicking hatchlings, miming putting them on top of the load in the sled. Snape tilted his head at me, perched upon the bronze horn at the base of the skull, but didn't answer. "Alright then," I mumbled. "Thanks for the help."

I reached for the light grey one, the largest of the group and most even tempered. It allowed me to lift it up and place it on the sled. By the time I returned with the dark blue one, the light grey had hopped back onto the ground and out of reach. Grumbling in annoyance, I picked the grey one up again with a hand beneath the stomach like I had seen Hermione do to Crookshanks near a hundred times and set it with the blue one on top of the hide.

When I returned with the light brown and smoky grey, the first two were back on the ground. "This is impossible," I nearly shouted as I tried to herd all four back onto the sled. It was like herding cats.

"Don't give up," Snape told me, crawling further up the near vertical horn to get a better look. "I think you almost had them this time."

I only glared at him, hands on my knees and huffing from the exertion of chasing the excited dragons around. They probably thought it was a game.

"Do you have a better suggestion?" I finally asked, falling back onto the sled and reclining on it like a chair.

"Just leave," he replied, sliding down the horn to lay upon the brow.

"I'm not leaving them behind," I argued back, laying my head down to look up at the clouds.

A loud huff had me shifting up to look back at Snape. He was gazing at me with disapproval. I could tell by the way his eyes narrowed and the severe tilt of his head. "I wasn't suggesting leaving them, I was suggesting we leave."

At my blank look of confusion, he continued. "You and I are the only ones they know outside of each other. They are still quite young, and if their mother had lived, they would be high on a mountain edge, in a nest, with the brood dame caring for them. Since she is dead, you have been the one caring for them. You provide food, safety, and shelter. If you were to leave, and take all the food…they will follow."

It made sense, but I was still hesitant. "What if they don't?" I asked quietly.

Snape's head tilted in the other direction as he blinked at me. "Then we figure out something else, perhaps a leash?"

I snorted in amusement, imagining twelve little dragons harnessed to the sled. Snape offered the suggestion in jest. We both knew that they would be able to chew through anything we tied to them.

"Alright then," I replied, mind made up. Even still, it took another few hours – when the sun was nearly at its zenith – before I finally acted. Flicking my wand at the sled, I spelled it to follow before I turned back to the hatchlings.

I wasn't certain how much dragons actually understood human speech and intent – if they even did at all – but still I announced my intention. "Alright, listen up," a few of the hatchlings turned to me, but most continued playing as they were. "We will be leaving now, so…lets go." I gestured towards myself with my off hand, the wand still in my right, but no dragon except Snape actually did as I bid.

Snape flew down from the large dragon skull to perch on my shoulder, thumbs hooking onto the hood I had created from the extra fabric I had removed from the bottom of the robe. It had been much too large for me. Removing the extra two feet was simple, I only had to coax the weaving runes away from the section I intended to remove. Reattaching it near the top once I had formed it into the shape of a hood was another matter.

It took nearly a week of careful spell work to get it to not only attach to the main robe, but to also have the woven runes attach to it as well. After it was done, I had been giddy with success and Snape had actually praised me. It had been an odd day indeed.

It took Snape's presence and my steel resolve to turn away from the hatchlings and start towards sunset. He had argued for traveling south as opposed to west, but in the end, we both agreed it was easier to follow the track of the sun. It was unfortunate that point-me didn't seem to work to find food. It was, however, able to locate the nearest body of water. Water usually meant animals, or at the very least fish. It was also fortunate that west happened to be in the direction of water.

My anxiety and unease settled as the light grey dragon started to trail after us. Nearly a dozen paces away and the brown one began following as well. And wherever the light brown one went, the smoky grey followed. The only one I really worried about was the bronze.

The bronze was a nasty little shit that tried to take my fingers off whenever I was within biting range, but I refused to leave it alone and helpless in this wasteland. We were nearly out of site of the cave and corpse – my pace slowing with every step as I kept glancing over my shoulder – when the bronze finally saw fit to join us.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Snape settled low across my shoulders to lay down, tail wrapped around my upper arm, and we continued our trek towards the sunset.

Not even an hour had passed before the twins became too tired to go any further. They climbed upon the floating sled, grabbing at a dangling piece of hide, and pulling themselves into a comfortable dip before falling asleep. The two browns, the silver white, the black, and the dark blue soon followed. The pale gold chose to crawl up my leg instead and settled on gripping the loose fabric of my pants near my hip, one foot on a hidden inside pocket of the robes.

Snape glared down at the pale gold, but only grumbled in discontent.

I wasn't quite sure what it was that caused Snape to get tetchy anytime one of the hatchlings tried to perch on me as he did, and honestly, I wasn't certain I even wanted to know. If I concentrated hard enough, I could feel a dark streak of something full of negative emotions that could perhaps be considered jealousy if I tried. If I concentrated harder, the dark streak felt almost like possessiveness.

I didn't concentrate on it at all…I didn't dare.

The bright red one, a little bigger than the twins, and the light grey lasted nearly until nightfall before they joined the others. The stubborn bronze refused the sled all together, choosing instead to hobble after us on tiring limbs.

My thighs were burning before Snape finally told me to stop. I set the sled down on the hard snow, gently so as not to awaken the sleeping dragons. The light grey blinked up at me, eyes hooded but still fully awake. The bronze glared before digging itself a ditch in the snow and promptly falling asleep.

Snape breathed fire, blue flames licking his maw and turning a bright yellow less then a foot away. I captured the flames like Hermione had taught me, similar to when she caught the bluebell flames, but different enough that I still struggled with the spell.

The bright yellow fire hovered inches above the ground and threw off enough heat that I was already sweating as I stood nearby, shaping the snow into solid ice to create a curved wall and ceiling to sleep under. I was loathed to wake the hatchlings, but I knew that they needed to eat else they would awaken me in the middle of the night.

They were squeaking and chirruping as I pushed them off the hide and started to unwrap the meat. Casting several handfuls down upon the ground, I brought another over by the fire and set most of it before Snape. It was fully dark now, and his gaze was fixed upon the stars. He didn't seem to notice the food presented to him, didn't even notice when one of the dark red twins snatched a piece from his pile. I flicked the little dragon on the nose and shooed it away.

"Something wrong?" I asked as the smoky grey climbed into my lap, the light brown one following a moment after. They chirruped pitifully at me as I bit into the larger slice of meat in my grip. Their chirruping was for nothing, their stomachs bloated to the point of near bursting. I doubted they could have eaten one more bite even if I offered it to them.

"What books did you bring again?" Snape asked quietly as I stroked my fingers down the spine of the light brown one. It rumbled contently as it settled fully and closed its eyes.

"Well, there's the dragon book, the history one about pre-founders era…there's the transfiguration and charms books that are assigned. And the little grey book, of course." Snape snorted in disgust at the book he was trying so hard to forget existed. "I've got a care of magical creatures," that one was mine. Hermione had borrowed it for research purposes after Moody's class on beasts that lived in the lake. "And a potions textbook. That's it."

Snape hummed in thought, but his gaze never dropped from the sky. Leaning back on my hands, I turned to look up as well, but what he saw I wasn't sure. It was a clear night without a cloud in the sky. The stars bright and the moon a crescent, a hanging chesire grin of white on black.

"Nothing on astronomy?" He asked after a long moment of silence.

"Hmm?" I hummed, tucking my chin to look at him from across the floating yellow fire. "No, why?"

"The stars," he replied, the last word trailing off as he became lost in thought once more.

"What of them?" I turned my face back up towards the sky.

"They're wrong."