Disclaimer – I solemnly swear that JKR owns everything Harry Potter. Whether or not I am up to no good with her characters is for you to decide.

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Harry Potter: Dragon Whisperer

Chapter 6 – The Mark of the Dragon

9:10am

Sunday, 30 July 1995

Romanian Dragon Sanctuary, Romania

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Unlike at most other times, Harry jolted awake. One second he was asleep, the next his eyes were wide and he was looking around from where he was unexpectedly now sitting on his bed.

His bed? He didn't remember coming to bed. Come to that, he didn't even remember returning to camp. A glance out of his window told him that it was daytime, what was puzzling though was the position of the sun on the trees.

Morning? How can it be morning? he wondered.

He distinctly remembered being down in the canyon with the dragons in the afternoon.

But then more of his memory returned. Yes, he'd been in the canyon, in with the fledglings until … Grouleth interrupted. And then he was taken to a secret dragon council. All the dragons had been there including a dragon that he'd never seen or met before – Memzath, the Weyr Leader.

Absently, Harry flicked a finger and, from across the room a piece of wood dislodged itself from the pile that he'd stacked beside the door and flew to him. Unerringly, he caught it before frowning down at it. Black locust wood, native here in Romania, thus why he'd picked it up. It certainly didn't live up to its name; it wasn't black or even a dark-coloured wood. Still, it intrigued him, having a type of wood that he hadn't worked with before.

Memzath, his brain returned to its original thoughts even as he grabbed up his carving tools from the shelf above his bed. Memzath had been concerned with something, with … with him. The great dragon had kept saying that there was a darkness.

The memory of the slashing pain in his forehead had Harry dropping the knife and slapping a hand over his scar. But the familiar feel that he'd had longer than he could remember had changed. Lightly, he traced the scar. There, his fingers found the familiar lightning bolt, only now, it felt like there was an extra scar, a slash that went straight through it, from top to bottom.

It was definitely a strange feeling to know but not know something that was a part of you. And the extra ridges that the frown that he was wearing wasn't helping either. A glance around his room only deepened his frown: there was no mirror in here. The best that he had was …

Snatching up his knife again, he held it so that he could look into the blade and see his reflection. It wasn't easy or the best of mediums, but it at least allowed him to see … a weird bluish-purple line on his head, slashed straight through his lightning bolt.

"What the …!" he began just as the door opened.

"Harry! You're awake!" Sirius exclaimed loudly.

And then his godfather was across the room and Harry had to quickly put the knife down for fear of stabbing the man as he raced to hug him.

The feeling of his hair being ruffled alerted Harry to the fact that Sirius hadn't been the only one entering his bedroom.

"Finally awake, Cub," Remus smiled down at him. "We thought you might miss your birthday with the way that you were going."

"Miss my birthday?" Harry echoed. "Exactly how long was I asleep?"

"A day and a half," Charlie replied from just inside the door where he stood beside Alexander. "Today's the thirtieth. And, in case you were wondering, it's just after nine in the morning."

"I slept for a day and a half?" Harry's exclaimed. "What? Why? What happened?"

"We were hoping that you could tell us that," Alexander said and Harry noted that the weathered face had a distinctly interested look on it.

"I think we'd all like to hear that story, Pup," Sirius said.

Harry looked from his godfather sitting on his bed, to Remus standing beside him with his hand now resting on Harry's shoulder to the extremely eager looks on both Charlie and Alexander's faces.

"I'm not sure that I completely know," Harry shrugged.

"Tell us what you remember," Remus said lightly.

"Well, I was in with the fledglings, getting those measurements that Charlie wanted," he began.

"We found the parchment and tapes in your pocket," Charlie nodded. "Looks like you did good work."

"Thanks," Harry grinned. "Although, I'm now a quill short; Spekith ate one of them. I was close to finishing when Grouleth interrupted. He wanted me to come to the Weyr Council."

"Council? What Council?" Alexander asked sharply, clearly confused.

"Are you saying that the dragons have some sort of … some sort of government?" Charlie spluttered.

"Yep," Harry grinned. "You should see it. It's this huge cavern, so high I couldn't even see the roof. And there are all these ledges built into the walls for the dragons to sit on. And in the middle, on the floor is where the Weyr Leader stands to talk with all the other dragons."

"Weyr Leader," Alexander said, shaking his head. "Which dragon's that?"

"And where's this cavern?" Charlie added at the exact same time.

Harry looked from one to the other, deciding which to answer first. His boss, he decided.

"The Weyr Leader is Memzath. He's a Horntail, pretty old, definitely one of the oldest dragons here and not one that I'd met before. And as for where the cavern is, it's at the end of a long tunnel – felt like I walked down it for at least ten minutes – inside the last cave in the canyon."

"The one that the dragons never let us near?" Charlie speculated, looking at his boss. "On the right-hand side."

"Yeah, reckon so," Alexander said. "What's the odds that this Memzath lives there?"

"Pretty good, I'd say," Charlie nodded.

"But what happened in there, Harry?" Sirius prompted. "Obviously something big since Ramaranth had to carry you back here unconscious."

"I'm guessing it's got something to do with how you got that Mark," Alexander said, stepping forward and gesturing to Harry's forehead.

Once again, Harry's hand rose to trace his scar, only this time, it was solely the new portion of it.

"Yeah," Harry replied grimly. "The dragons wanted to test me. Said something about that, even though I could Speak to them, that they needed to be sure that I could Speak for them. And then Memzath started saying something about how I was dark … no, that's not quite it. That there was a darkness attached to me. And the next thing I knew, Memzath slashed me with his claw. I think I passed out after that; at least, that's the last thing I remember."

"A darkness attached to him?" Sirius echoed, looking up at Remus.

"No idea, Siri," Remus shrugged. "I may be a Master of Defence Against the Dark Arts and a 'Dark Creature' myself, but I'm not a dragon. Who knows what they can see or sense?"

"You are not a dark creature!" Sirius growled. "You just have a special problem at that time of the month."

"The dragons didn't explain more?" Alexander asked, seemingly ignoring the two men.

Harry shook his head. "No. Or, at least, not to me or while I was awake."

"But what about the Mark?" Charlie asked.

That was the second time that Harry had heard that term and this time, he caught the capital letter, the fact that it was something important.

"Mark?" he asked.

Alexander stepped closer and pointed at Harry's new scar.

"That is the Mark of the Dragon," he stated and Harry wasn't sure whether he was in awe of it, scared of it or intrigued by it.

"Mark of the Dragon?" Harry repeated. "What's that?"

"That is something very special. Very special and extremely rare," Alexander replied, his eyes firmly fixed on the Mark in question. "There's been less than a handful of people in all of history that have been given a Mark. And you have to be given it. You can't demand it or ask for it or anything. It's completely up to the dragons themselves. We're not even certain how it's given. Our best guess – and mind you, this comes from some ancient writings in a language that's long since fallen into disuse – is that it's a combination of the dragon's claw, saliva, breath and magic."

"Don't look at me," Harry told the assembled men who were all staring at him. "I'm just as clueless as all of you. But what does it mean?"

"Legend tells us that a person who has the Mark can control and command all dragons. They'll do your bidding. They'll come and go as you ask. And they'll go to war against anyone or anything that dares to try to harm you. For all intents and purposes, anyone with that Mark is considered a dragon themselves, and not just any dragon, but also their king and their champion," Alexander stated.

Harry's mind had all but shut down by the end of his boss' explanation even as his eyes had only grown wider and wider.

"Champion," Harry whispered, latching onto the last word. "Champion. Or Speaker."

He looked up from where his head had dropped.

"They wanted to know if I was worthy enough to Speak for them," he said.

"I'd say that they gave you your answer," Charlie replied.

"You said that your understanding of what it means to carry this Mark of the Dragon comes from ancient writings," Remus said. "How certain are you of your interpretation?"

"As best as we can be," Alexander shrugged. "Of course, some of that could be exaggeration, but I doubt it's much, if anything."

"Harry, it might not be a bad idea for you to start keeping a record or something like a journal of all the things that you're learning about dragons, including what the dragons say this Mark represents," Remus suggested.

"Make it a book," Charlie suggested. "Every dragon keeper in the world would want a copy."

"Make it a book and sell it," Sirius said expanded excitedly. "Dragons have always fascinated everyone. You could make quite the cauldron of gold by selling it to regular witches and wizards as well, not to mention schools. It could even become a textbook!"

Harry looked at Charlie and Sirius and then up at Remus.

"I might do that," he said. "The writing it all down part, not writing a jolly school textbook."

"And in the meantime, perhaps you can get the great behemoth that's been sitting in the middle of camp to go back to the canyon where she belongs?" Alexander asked.

Harry cocked his head, not understanding.

"Ramaranth," Charlie explained. "She hasn't moved since bringing you home."

That was enough for Harry. In a rush, he scrambled from his bed and raced for the door.

Exactly as he'd been told, his first dragon friend was crouched just outside the cabin. Her head was pointed at the door and, even though her eyes were half-lidded, Harry was certain that she was very aware of everything that was going on around her.

§Speaker§, she said, lifting her head. §I sensed you coming. Are you recovered§?

Harry skidded to a halt, blinking up at her.

§Ramaranth? You sound different. Your accent's changed§, he said.

A rumble erupted from Ramaranth's throat in what Harry knew to be a laugh.

§It is not I that has changed their speech, but you Speaker§, she told him. §You no longer Speak with the sound of a belly-crawler, instead you Speak truly, as you should, as Our Speaker§.

His accent had changed? Belly-crawler? Harry could only guess that she meant like a snake which was what parseltongue was most known for – snake language. And then the other part of what she'd said registered. 'Our Speaker' Ramaranth had said. He guessed that that meant that he'd been found worthy.

§I will return to the others and tell them of your recovery§, she said before he could reply. §Until soon, Speaker§.

With that, she spread her great wings and jumped, her long neck leading as she left the ground, beating up until she was above the cabins and the trees before wheeling away towards the canyon.

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2:40pm

Sunday, 30 July 1995

Romanian Dragon Sanctuary, Romania

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A loud thump on the ground just through the trees had Remus wondering if he really had chosen the best place to hold his first lesson with Harry. He'd thought that this little clearing, just back from the edge of the canyon and a little inside the tree line, would be perfect, somewhat private and with the added bonus of being a peaceful, natural spot that should help this lesson in particular.

What he hadn't counted on were the dragons. This was the second that had landed since they'd arrived and while they weren't venturing in through the trees, they were definitely watching.

Taking a breath, Remus decided that the best thing that he could do was to ignore them and to get on with what he wanted to teach.

"When you went to the dragon council," Remus began and marvelled at the string of words that he'd never thought would belong together, "you didn't let us know. Why was that?"

"Well, Grouleth was quite insistent that we had to go then," Harry shrugged. "There was no time to return to the camp to let anyone know what was happening."

Remus nodded. "I thought that was the case. And that brings us to the point of today's lesson. Watch. Expecto patronum."

Instantly, a large, silver, ethereal wolf appeared from his wand. It trotted around them, its nose up in the air before coming to face Remus.

"A message to Sirius. I have begun the lesson," Remus told it.

Instantly, the silvery ghost-like wolf bounded off, quickly becoming lost to sight.

"What was that?" Harry asked, wide-eyed.

"That was a patronus," Remus replied. "Or more specifically, a messenger patronus."

Lifting his finger, he cut off Harry's likely questions.

"A patronus is a charm which manifests itself as an animal, a guardian if you will. Primarily, it's used to defend against dementors and lethifolds – a lesson for another day. Our aim at the moment is to have you able to create your own patronus which will then lead on to you being able to use your patronus to send messages as you saw me do just now."

"Patronuses? Patronii?" Harry shrugged and shook his head. The plural didn't really matter. "They take the form of animals? What will mine be?"

"That we won't know until you can successfully cast one," Remus smiled. "However, it will be unique to you. After all, it is a part of you, something that defines you. Mine, as you saw, is a wolf. Sirius' is a dog. Your fathers' was a stag."

"It was?" Harry asked interestedly. "What about mum?"

"A doe," Remus smiled.

"Cool," Harry grinned in return. "So, how do I cast it?"

"This isn't an easy charm to master," Remus warned. "There are many adult witches and wizards who are never able to produce a patronus for one reason or another. It takes a lot of power, which I believe you have, and a firm grasp of a positive, happy memory. The rest is simple. The wand movement is a simple point and the incantation is, as you heard, expecto patronum."

"You know that I don't always need my wand to make magic, right?" Harry asked.

"I am very aware of that, Harry, however due to the difficulty of this spell, I think the added power and control that using a wand will give you is necessary," Remus said.

Once Harry had pulled his wand, Remus nodded and continued.

"What I want you to do is to close your eyes," he said, intentionally keeping his voice mellow, letting the cadence of his words help to, hopefully, relax Harry. "I want you to search your memory, find a time when you were clearly happy, a time when you were most enjoying life. It's okay to discard one memory in favour for another. In fact, I expect you to. More often than not, it takes a little trial and error. For now, though, pick a memory where you felt great joy and happiness."

He watched as Harry's face went through a myriad of emotions. There was the frown of concentration; the headshake and almost growl of something that he instantly discarded; contemplation and consideration; and finally, a slow grin began forming on his face and Remus knew that he had a memory that was worth, at the very least, trying.

"It looks to me as though you've found that memory," he said. "Now, I want you to relive it, experience it all again. You don't have to tell me what it is, it's enough that you know it, that you remember it. Let the feelings that engulfed you that day, fill you now. Feel that happiness, that joy, that love if that's a part of it. Let those feelings consume you until they fill every part of you."

Remus continued watching Harry's face. Finally, he thought the teen had it, was ready for the next part.

"Now, when you're ready, I want you to raise your wand. You know the incantation: expecto patronum," Remus said and waited, watching.

Slowly, Harry's wand came up, his eyes still closed.

"Expecto patronum!" Harry incanted.

Not unexpectedly, nothing happened.

"Push your feelings into your magic," Remus coached. "Feel it and push!"

"Expecto patronum!" Harry cast again.

Remus could see the strain on his face as he continued pouring his magic into the spell. And then, a stream of white, gossamer-thin magic appeared from Harry's wand. It wasn't much, a trickle a best. But still …

"Well done, Harry! Very well done, indeed!" Remus exclaimed.

"But I didn't make an animal like you or mum or dad," Harry panted, his hands on his knees. "It was barely anything."

"Harry, I never expected you to, at least not today, not in your very first lesson," Remus told him as he pulled a block of chocolate from his pocket and began unwrapping it. "As I told you, this is a spell that not every adult can do. It's extremely advanced. The fact that you managed anything is simple astounding. But now that you've begun, we can continue to work on it."

"But I wanted to see what my animal was," Harry complained, even as he took the piece of chocolate that Remus had snapped off for him.

"And you will, just not today."

"It was definitely hard, much harder than I thought it was supposed to be," Harry said. "Are you sure that I was doing it right?"

"It may be that you weren't using a strong enough memory," Remus said. "And that shall be your homework. I want you to search your memories, see if you can't find a better memory to use. Remember, it has to be one full of great, positive emotion. It can't just be something that was positive or good. It's the emotions that really count with this spell."

Remus saw Harry's eyes dart towards the pair of dragons that were still watching.

"Can I try it once more?" he asked.

"Are you sure that you've got enough in you to try?" Remus asked. "Producing the mist that you did took a lot out of you."

"I'm sure," Harry replied.

In reply, Remus simply waved his hand. He watched as Harry's eyes darted to the dragons once again before he squared his shoulders.

"Expecto patronum!"

Once again, silvery mist appeared out of Harry's wand. This time, though, it'd happened much quicker and was definitely a little stronger. It still wasn't strong enough to form a shield, which came before the animal patronus itself, but there was no doubt that it was stronger.

Before long, Harry let it go and dropped to his knees, his head down and his shoulders heaving as he panted.

"That was exceptional, Harry!" Remus exclaimed, handing over more chocolate. "But I think that's quite enough for one day."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Harry conceded. "But I really did want to find out what my patronus animal is."

Remus didn't reply, instead just waiting for the teen to recover enough to walk back to the cabin. His eyes slid to the two dragons watching them and he wondered if Sirius would be up for betting on Harry's patronus form. What was he saying? This was Padfoot! He'd bet on anything at the drop of a hat. A grin appeared on Remus' face; there could be some gold to be made here.

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7:20pm

Sunday, 30 July 1995

Studland, Dorset, England

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"Tina! Tina!"

"There's no need to shout, Newt, I'm right here, exactly where I was sitting the last time you saw me, not fifteen minutes ago," Tina Scamander scolded her husband.

"Oh, of course," he replied. "But have you seen this?"

She looked from the piece of parchment that he was waving in his hand to the owl currently sitting on his shoulder.

"Considering that looks like a letter that just arrived, I'd have to say that, no, I haven't seen that," she said. "What is it?"

"It's from a friend of mine down in Tanzania, the dragon reserve there, actually," Newt replied.

"You're not thinking of going on a trip to the Tanzania Dragon Reserve, are you?"

"It's The Draconian Sanctuary of Tanzania, actually, but no, of course not," Newt replied. "I'm planning on going to the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary."

Tina sighed and closed her eyes. Even after all these years, her husband's mind was hard to keep track of.

"Leaving aside the fact that you are a ninety-nine-year-old man that should be enjoying his retirement instead of going traipsing around the world," Tina said, "kindly explain to me why you want to go to Romania."

"Well, you see, something extraordinary has happened," Newt replied excitedly. "There's a new parselmouth working with the dragons …"

"Harry Potter, yes, we know, it's been all over the Daily Prophet for weeks now," Tina supplied.

"Yes, yes but there's more, you see," Newt continued. "It seems that two days ago, Harry Potter was given the Mark of the Dragon! It's most extraordinary; very fascinating. Imagine what he could learn, what he could teach us!"

Tina stared at her husband. He got this same gleam in his eye every single time there was the chance to learn something new about any of his creatures. And she also knew that there was no stopping him when he got like this, not that she'd ever really tried. It was a part of him, a part of what made him the great man that he was, and a large part of why she loved him so much.

"Very well," she conceded. "But I expect you to actually tell me exactly what this 'Mark of the Dragon' is while we pack and exactly why it's so special. And Newt? We're leaving that suitcase of yours behind this time! You manage to find enough trouble on your own without adding in everything that that suitcase entails to the mix."