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 8 – Visitors, New and Old

11:20am

Wednesday, 2 August 1995

Romanian Dragon Reserve, Romania

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The buildings rapidly grew in size as they approached. Harry found that, even squinting, it wasn't easy to focus on them, not on exactly where they thought that they'd land. But then, that wasn't unexpected. Firstly, he wasn't the one in control of the flying. And secondly, as fast as a Nimbus Two Thousand was, a dragon was faster still. And Ramaranth in particular, especially when she was trying to show off was exceptionally fast. Which he suspected that she was.

Her wings flared and he was forced to grab on to the ridge spike in front of him quickly so that he wasn't tipped off backwards as she slowed and her back went almost perpendicular to the ground, her tail towards the ground.

Having regained his balance, Harry leant out slightly, looking past her wing and down at the ground.

There were quite a number of people down there, more than he would have expected. And some of them looked to be wearing dresses? Or more likely, robes. Unless there was something official happening, none of the female dragon keepers wore robes. No, it was strictly pants for everyone regardless of gender. They were simply much more practical.

A waving arm directed up at him focussed his attention and Harry recognised Sirius. Grinning, he waved back.

And then Ramaranth dropped, adjusting her wings so that they could land. Harry waited and made sure to lean back. He'd learnt that trick after the first couple of times riding her. She tended to land on her back legs first and then come down heavily on her front legs and, if he wasn't careful, then he was in danger of being flung head over heels off of her. It'd been a very close thing that first time.

Finally, she was down and Harry was able to relax his grip.

§Thanks for the lift home, Ramarath§, he said, giving her a pat on her neck

§It was my pleasure, Speaker§, she replied.

Then, after making sure that he had a firm grip on her ridge spike, Harry swung his leg over and allowed his body to slide down her side. Once he was fully extended, he felt around, finally found the front leg that Ramarath had cocked for him and let go. A short jump later and he was back on the ground.

"That never gets old, seeing you do that, Pup," Sirius said.

"I'm sure that I could get one of the dragons to take you for a flight if you want," Harry said, turning to face him.

"You know, one day, I might even take you up on that," Sirius half-laughed.

"I'd go for a ride on the back of a dragon, that is if I could hold on to you," a voice that Harry instantly recognised said.

Quickly, his eyes wide, Harry stepped out and around his godfather.

"Daphne?" he asked.

"Hi, Harry," she said, a huge smile on her face. "Surprise!"

"What are you doing here?" he asked before quickly continuing. "Don't get me wrong, I love the fact that you're here but I had no idea that you were coming. You never said anything in your letters to even hint that you were coming."

A cuff over the back of his head stopped him with his mouth half-open.

"You're babbling," Sirius admonished. "Just hug the girl."

Harry didn't need any more prompting than that and instantly stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. His face buried into her hair and he breathed in that oh-so-familiar smell that he hadn't smelt in what felt far too long. Feeling her arms around him brought a large smile to his face.

"Hey," he whispered. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too," she whispered back.

A pointed clearing of a throat broke the two apart.

Harry turned towards where the sound had come from to find a man that he recognised standing there, a frown on his face. Harry couldn't help it. He gulped.

"Lord Greengrass," he said, having gathered his courage, and stepped forward with his hand outstretched.

"Mister Potter," Lord Greengrass replied giving his hand, what Harry felt was a particularly vigorous shake.

This time it was a dainty cough that broke the moment.

"Ah, yes, may I present my wife, the Lady Penelope Greengrass and my youngest daughter, Astoria," Lord Greengrass introduced.

A slight movement from Sirius reminded Harry that there was a particular way that one greeted a lady and while he hadn't had many lessons yet on pureblood customs, this was one that Harry had had.

"Lady Penelope, it is a pleasure to meet you," he said and bowed over her hand, lightly brushing her knuckles with his lips.

"Mister Potter," she replied. "It's very nice to meet you after everything that I've heard about you."

Harry gave Daphne a sidelong look but her face remained distinctly impassive and he got nothing from her.

"Astoria," he said, giving the younger girl who looked almost like a carbon copy of her sister, albeit with hazel eyes instead of dazzling blue, a nod in greeting.

"In answer to your question, Mister Potter," Lord Greengrass said, "we are here for a holiday. It was a spur of the moment decision, you understand, thus why Daphne did not inform you that we were coming."

"That's brilliant!" Harry grinned, trying to address him however much his eyes kept being drawn back to Daphne. "Where are you staying?"

"There is a small area designed for visitors at the base of the mountains," Lord Greengrass replied.

§Speaker, are these two-legs important to you§?

Harry turned back to Ramaranth who had remained remarkedly still exactly where they had landed.

§Yes, my friend, they are, especially Daphne§, he replied.

§I would be interested in meeting the two-leg. They may approach, I will be gentle§, she said.

§I never doubted that you would be§, Harry said.

"You do remember how disconcerting that sounds for those of us who have no idea what you're saying, don't you?" Daphne said when he'd turned back.

"Yep," he grinned. "And I also remember someone telling me off for speaking in parseltongue."

"I may have not had all of the facts when I offered that advice," she replied, her nose slightly up and her head turned away.

Harry, though, wasn't fooled. He could see the smile tugging at her lips.

"I'm guessing that's your way of apologising?" he asked.

"You can take it that way if you like," she replied.

But it seemed that that was too much for her as she dissolved into giggles.

"What did she say to you?" Daphne asked.

"Actually, she asked to meet you. All of you," he added, encompassing the entire Greengrass family. "She's promised to be gentle."

"Really?" Penelope asked. "We can go over there and touch her?"

"Of course," Harry said, and grasped Daphne's hand. "Come on."

He led the four of them and Sirius over to Ramaranth who was watching, her neck curled up and around so that her head pointed down. One by one, with Daphne going first due to the fact that Harry simply pulled her hand along with him, they each reached up and stroked the great dragon.

"Wow! Oh, oh wow!" Astoria exclaimed. "None of my friends are going to believe this!"

"The number of people who have touched a dragon in the world is incredibly low," Lord Greengrass said. "Subtract dragon keepers from that number and you would be lucky to be able to count them on the fingers of two hands."

"Well, now you can add your entire family to that list," Harry told him.

"My thanks, from all of us, Mister Potter. This experience alone has made this holiday extraordinary," Lord Greengrass said.

"You're very welcome," Harry said. "I can even introduce you some of the others later. I can think of four in particular that would love to meet you."

§Speaker, I think it best that I return to the Weyr§, Ramaranth said.

§Of course, my friend. Until soon§, Harry replied, using the dragon expression that he found he quite liked.

Then, after getting everyone to back up, he watched her take to the sky and wing away.

"Come on, Daphne, I want to show you everything and you can tell me what you've been doing," Harry said.

"Father?" she asked.

"You may go with Mister Potter, just ensure that you are back in time for dinner," Lord Greensgrass said.

That was enough for Harry to squeeze her hand and pull her away towards the hilltop from where they could see the entire canyon.

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3:55pm

Wednesday, 2 August 1995

Romanian Dragon Reserve, Romania

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"Harry, Daphne," Sirius said as they two ambled out of the trees still holding hands. "I thought you two'd be back ages ago."

"Lord Greengrass said that we didn't have to be back until dinner," Harry replied.

"True enough and to be honest, I'd feel a bit of a hypocrite telling you off for spending time with your girl," Sirius said.

"We're not …" Harry began but stopped as he felt Daphne squeeze his hand, and also noted that Sirius was pointedly looking at their joined hands as well.

"You can sort that out between you later," he said. "Right now, there's something else more important for you to be doing."

"What? Has something happened?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, you could say that," Sirius replied. "It seems that the Greengrasses aren't your only visitors."

"Someone else has arrived?" Harry asked. "Who?"

"Newt Scamander and his wife," Sirius replied simply.

"Who?" Harry asked at the same time that Daphne gasped. "I'm guessing that you know who that is?"

"Newt Scamander!" Daphne repeated. "He's probably the most famous magizoologist in the world. He even wrote one of our textbooks. Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them."

"Oh, I've read that," Harry replied brightly. "I quite liked it, very interesting. Not quite accurate in his section on dragons, though. But I'm finding that not many books are. I'd never paid attention to who wrote it."

"Well, you're about to meet him," Sirius stated. "They turned up not long after the two of you wandered off. It was all we could do to stop him trying to follow you down to the canyon."

"The dragons wouldn't have hurt him," Harry defended his friends.

"Not all of us can talk to dragons, kiddo, which means that, for the rest of us, we need to be careful in case we do something that they don't like," Sirius said.

"Where is Mister Scamander now?" Daphne asked.

"He's in the main Hall. I best take you there now," Sirius replied.

Together, the three of them walked the length of the camp. Sirius lengthened his stride just before they reached the main Hall so that he could open the door for the teens.

Almost hesitantly, Harry stepped inside, not quite sure what to expect.

Finding that three of the tables had been pushed together and all those not currently working were sitting around it, looking in rapt attention at an ancient man with white hair as he told some tale, was certainly not expected. Especially when one of those there was Alexander.

"Ah, Harry, you're finally here," his Boss' voice boomed upon seeing him.

Instantly, the old man, Newt Scamander, Harry supposed, stopped his story and rose to his feet. He was a fair thin man with a distinct stoop, as though he'd developed the habit of trying to negate his height and to make himself appear smaller than he actually was.

"Mister Potter," he said, coming forward, his hand extended. "It is so very, very nice to finally meet you."

"Um, yeah, it's nice to meet you, too, Mister Scamander. I've read your book, it's very good. And please, call me Harry," he replied, shaking the man's hand.

"Harry, then," he replied and Harry noted that his eyes never met his own for more than a second at a time. "Please, call me Newt."

Harry glanced at Sirius and received a brief nod. If the old man who surely deserved respect for his accomplishments and great age wanted to be called by his first name, then who was he to argue?

"Sorry that I wasn't here when you arrived," Harry said.

"Nonsense," Newt waved away his apology. "You were with the dragons, I suspect. Of course, they would demand your attention."

"Not everyone gets caught up with creatures as you do, Newt," an elderly lady admonished as she came up behind him.

"Harry does," Sirius laughed.

"Not much can tear him away from his dragons," Charlie added as he entered the room behind them.

"They don't understand what it's like, do they?" Newt whispered conspirically.

Harry grinned at him. "Doesn't sound like it."

"I'm Tina," the elderly lad said, introducing herself. "Newt's long-suffering wife."

"It's nice to meet you, ma'am," Harry replied. "And this is Daphne."

"Come, my boy, we have much to talk about," Newt said, drawing Harry back across to the table.

It took very little time for everyone to be seated once again with Harry and Daphne having been given seats beside Newt and his wife.

"I understand that they call you 'Speaker'," Newt continued. "What does that mean?"

"That part merely means that I'm a parselmouth; that I can speak their language," Harry replied.

"And the Mark?" Newt asked, gesturing to his new scar.

"The ancient books were wrong about that," Harry replied. "In short, it basically means that I'm like an Ambassador to the Dragons. There's maybe a little extra to it, but not by much."

"Ha!" Newt exclaimed. "I knew those books were wrong. No creature or species would promote one from a different class into becoming their king."

"I didn't even ask them about that," Harry admitted. "Seemed too disrespectful."

"Exactly! You have the exact right attitude for working in this field. Not many understand," Newt stated. "Now, before we go any further, there's an important question that I need to ask."

"Yes?" Harry asked, suddenly nervous.

"How much of my section of dragons is complete dragon dung?"

Harry glanced down, trying to decide how to answer without hurting the man's feelings.

"That much, hey? Well, good. I've always loved learning new things about animals," Newt smiled. "I would very much like it if you could teach me everything that you know. Maybe even translate for me if I have questions that you don't know the answer to?"

"I could do that," Harry replied.

"And then you two can write that book that we've been telling Harry that he needs to get started on," Alexander interjected.

"Book? That's a marvellous idea. The more people who read about creatures, in this case, dragons, the more that they understand and learn to treat them the way they should. Yes, yes, I think that's a wonderful idea," Newt nodded. "What say you, Speaker of Dragons?"

Harry looked at those around him. Sirius, Alexander, Charlie, Daphne, all the other dragon handlers. There was no doubt in his mind what any of their answers would be.

"I think that we could do that," he finally said.

"Wonderful, simply wonderful," Newt replied.

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9:10am

Thursday, 3 August 1995

Ministry of Magic, London, England

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Mathilda Grimblehawk, chair of the sub-Department for the Regulation and Monitoring of the Dragons of Great Britain, looked around her office with some bewilderment. It didn't seem all that long ago that this sub-Department – committee, back then – had been abolished and she herself had been demoted and shuffled back into her old desk job within the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures itself.

But then, exactly one week ago, she'd been summoned to the Minster for Magic's office and told that they'd made a terrible mistake in dissolving the committee that they'd put together earlier that year. Phrases like 'we didn't give you enough time' and 'you were understaffed' or 'you deserved more support from this office', etcetera were bandied about until, finally she was simply told that she was being promoted once again and that the committee was even being upgraded to sub-Department status.

Of course, she understood what was really happening. She'd read the Prophet, she'd seen which way the wind was blowing. She knew exactly what it all stemmed from, what the real aim was. To get Harry Potter back in Britain. If that happened, then the Minister's job wouldn't be being threatened.

And, to be completely honest – if only to herself – she didn't actually care about the 'real' reason or even the 'excuse' that she'd been given. She'd show them that she could do this job, that she was worthy of being a department head instead of a simple parchment pusher.

Giving herself a shake, she brought herself back to the present. There was a job to be done.

Before she'd even left home this morning, she'd sat at her kitchen table for a solid hour, finally putting quill to parchment to create that list that she'd had floating about in her head ever since she'd been given this job. The list was fairly long and exhaustive and Mathilda was sure that there would be many more items that would need to be added to it.

After reading through it, she returned to the top, specifically to the first six items on it.

1. Find out what the sub-Department's budget is
2. Get furniture to outfit the sub-Department
3. Hire a staff through a proper application process
4. Get a full map of the British Isles (as big as possible)
5. Find a tract of land (or an island, perhaps?) that can be warded from muggles to become a new Dragon Reserve
6. Find and survey all dragons currently living within the British Isles

The memo she'd found in her inbox yesterday had resulted in a long, long meeting with the Finance Department. Eventually, she'd come out of it with the numbers that she'd needed to know.

And while the figure that she was given wasn't quite as much as she'd hoped, it was enough to be going on with. Mathilda figured that if she could get the sub-Department working well enough to get even a consultation from The-Boy-Who-Lived, especially if that consultation happened on British soil, then that should result in additional funding down the track. It was simply a case of getting to that point.

Before she'd left the office yesterday, Mathilda had put out the job descriptions that she wanted filled. A staff of four, including her, wasn't great, but it would work. Just that morning she'd seen the Wanted Ad in The Daily Prophet as well as the bright yellow memo-planes flying about the Ministry itself. Which took care of one item on her list. At least as much as possible for now.

The Furniture Requisition Form she'd filled out in the middle of the night when she couldn't sleep. Sure, she could transfigure something herself but that would only be a temporary fix – the magic would eventually wear off if it wasn't strong enough and Mathilda had no illusions as to her magical power.

And half-way to work that morning she'd had a brainwave which caused her to be nearly late. Thankfully, her stop at the magical travel agency hadn't taken overly long. The map that she'd bought from there she now pulled out of her pocket before cancelling the shrinking charm that she'd applied. A map three feet square grew on the table before her. It was an awkward size, but that was what magic was for. A simple levitation charm followed by a permanent sticking charm had the map glued to the wall precisely where she wanted it.

Taking out her quill and ink pot, Mathilda happily drew a line through that item on her list of things to do. Then, taking out three more pots of different coloured ink, she approached the map.

Green ink for the locations of known Common Welsh Greens; purple for known locations of the second type of dragon native to Great Britain: the Hebridean Black; and lastly, the red ink for possible locations for their new dragon reserve, perhaps even one of the islands of the Hebrides where she was sure some dragons already lived. It'd just be a case of finding an uninhabited one and getting it suitably warded.

There was a lot of work to be done, of that, there was no doubt. But if there was one thing that Mathilda Grimblehawk was not afraid of, it was hard work.