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 22 – Communication Is Key
9:10am
Monday, 22 August 1995
Australasian Dragon Preserve, Australia
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Half a dozen photos were laid out around him, all with the same subject. Being magical, the angle that they'd been taken from didn't matter so much, after all, the subject did like to prowl around, showing off both sides as well as the view from the front. Unfortunately, those photos also showed that the subject was behind bars which was not the optimum arrangement for getting a complete, unobstructed view.
Thus, Harry was busy sketching. The charcoal moved deftly over the page, capturing in every stroke more and more of not only the look of the bunyip but also gave strong hints of its essence, its power and savageness.
For the most part, he was drawing from memory, the photographs were only there as a guide in case they were needed. His eyes remained fixed on his work, determinedly not on the spot, just twenty metres away where the creature had last been.
There was no point looking there now, not unless he wanted to see a scorched piece of dirt and sand-turned-glass, and the twisted, melted blob of unrecognisableness sitting in the middle of it.
The dragons had been more than reasonable. They'd even given Harry and Newt a couple of extra hours to study the bunyip, but in the end, they'd kept their word.
Cantrum and Dankrum, along with the three females whose clutches had been stolen by the bunyip, Boolym, Lundsum and Vestrym had landed in a circle around the caged bunyip. Dragon handlers had scattered, disappearing as fast as their legs would carry them until only Harry and Newt had remained. Dankrum had looked at Harry for a long few seconds and Harry was sure that he was being judged but Harry knew that this was going to happen, that there was no way to prevent it and, if he was honest with himself, a part of him wanted it to happen and so, he remained perfectly still and just watched.
Finally, Dankrum's long neck turned back to the caged bunyip and then, on some unspoken cue, all five of them had sent jets of white-hot tongues of flame at it. The magical protections that had been erected to keep the bunyip in lasted less than a second, the cage and the bunyip itself, not much longer.
Once it was done, the three mothers-that-should-have-been, raised up onto their back legs, extended their necks to the sky and roared their anguish and fury and revenge. The sound rocked Harry back on his heels and, as tempting as it was to slam his hands over his ears, he resisted the urge, instead sharing in their grief as best as he could.
When they were done, Dankrum inclined his head towards Harry, a gesture that he returned with a bow, before all five dragons took to the sky, winging back towards their weyrs.
A rattle, a bump and thump brought Harry back to the here and now and he paused in his sketching. The creak of the lid opening had him looking towards the old, tatty brown suitcase laying on the ground not far away. He waited, expectantly and wasn't disappointed.
A head of thinning white hair appeared, quickly accompanied by a hand and then the old, stooped body of the suitcase's owner. As always, Harry watched fascinated as Newt Scamander squeezed himself out of the confines of the suitcase. He shook his head; it looked near impossible that someone as thin as Newt could get in and out of there and yet, Harry had been assured that the opening was quite wide enough to accommodate almost anything. Anything but a dragon, of course.
"How's everyone down there?" Harry asked.
"All fed and watered and in the best of health," he replied.
"You know that niffler of yours nearly escaped again," Harry remarked. "I had to conjure some gold coins and throw them back down to keep him inside."
"Yes, he learnt some bad habits from his grand-sire," Newt sighed. "I probably should have left him at home with Tina but I simply couldn't leave him, now could I?"
The appearance of a black nose sniffing the air above the suitcase had Harry flicking his hand, causing a gust of wind to close the case, causing the hint of a yelp from the niffler trying to, once again, escape. He smiled, pleased with the progress of his magic; it wasn't so long ago that he wouldn't have been able to do that.
"You have made remarkable progress, my boy," Newt remarked, having caught sight of Harry's sketch.
Harry gestured for Newt to have a closer look and leant back. He watched as the elder magizoologist peered intently at the sketch of the bunyip, even leaning right in at times.
"You have a remarkable eye for detail," Newt eventually said.
"Thanks, Newt," Harry smiled. "I'm sorry that you had so little time to see it alive."
"That I was able to, even for only a few hours, was amazing," Newt replied. "Now, shall we finish this off together?"
The next half an hour was spent with the two discussing the bunyip and their observations of it while Harry added more notes either in his notebook or even around the sketch itself. Both knew that it wasn't complete and that there were probably more unknowns than known facts about the no-longer-mythical creature.
"Do you think that there are more out there somewhere?" Harry asked.
"Where there is one, it stands to reason that there are more," Newt replied. "The fact that none have been seen in uncounted years until now simply means that they are camouflaged well in their natural habitat."
"Then it's not likely that we'll ever see another," Harry said, not upset by that fact.
The bunyip, the way it looked and especially the way it could twist and contort its body had given him more than one nightmare since they'd captured it. He had no doubt that seeing one in the wild would be sure to keep him from sleeping for the rest of his life!
"I have learnt in my long life never to limit oneself to the likelihood of 'no'," Newt smiled. "There are endless possibilities and wonders within this world, it simply remains for us to strive to find them."
Harry nodded slowly before looking at the man he considered a mentor shrewdly. "You intend to search for more."
"Indeed, I do, young Harry," Newt laughed. "Your friend, Andy Wululu, has promised to introduce me to a number of Aboriginal elders that remember the stories of the bunyip. With their help, I think it might be possible to find where this remarkable creature has secluded itself."
"Please be careful, Newt," Harry said.
"Have no fear for me," Newt replied, laying a hand on Harry's back. "If I did something foolish, Tina would be first in line to tear strips from me. It wouldn't be the first time. Which might explain why I have remained as thin as I am, eh?"
Harry laughed along with him before bending back to his sketchpad, determined to create a copy of the drawing that he'd just completed for Newt to take with him.
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2:50pm
Monday, 22 August 1995
Australasian Dragon Preserve, Australia
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Panting, Harry let the sand fall back to the Earth and slumped, his hands landing on his knees as he sucked in great lungfuls of air.
"Most impressive," Coen stated from across from him.
"Thanks," Harry managed.
The instant that Coen had heard that Harry'd manipulated the sand when they were setting the trap for the bunyip, he'd asked Harry to demonstrate it. Thus, he had. Not that he particularly liked doing that.
Gathering his magic into a ball in his chest was now almost second nature, letting it out slowly in a trickle to interact with the environment around him came just as easy. But earth, even sand that was so fine and light – individually, at least – was many thousand times heavier than air and consequently, a thousand times harder to manipulate. At the very least, he'd demonstrated that he could do it.
"Manipulating the earth is a lot harder than air," he said, voicing his thoughts.
"For some, for you, yes," Coen nodded. "For others, they find it as easy as breathing and struggle with other elements, like air."
"Really?" Harry asked incredulously.
"Surely by now you understand that each person has a different connection to the magic that is in the world," Coen asked.
Harry nodded. "Yeah, I know. My friend Neville can understand plants better than anyone I've ever met. I think he can get anything to grow! But put him on a broom and he freaks out and is more likely to fall off than fly in a straight line."
"It may be that your friend would find that earth magic comes easily to him," Coen observed.
"Maybe," Harry allowed without voicing the thought that they'd never know – after all, the things that Harry was learning here weren't taught at Hogwarts or anywhere in Britain from what Remus had said.
"What of your fire elemental ability, have you made any progress?" Coen asked.
Harry willed a ball of light into existence between them. There was no heat to it but that was easy enough to manipulate and he did so, raising the temperature until he felt it on his face.
"I know it's not the way that you described, but I can do this without much thought at all," Harry replied.
"Unconventional," Coen said, repeating the same thing that he said at their last lesson, "but if magic has deemed that you can manipulate the element in this way, then who are we to argue with her?"
Harry laughed. He'd come to appreciate the way that Coen talked about magic as though it wasn't only alive but had a sentience of its own. He still wasn't sure if he completely agreed with the idea, but he was definitely coming to.
"Whatever works, right?" he said.
"There are two buckets beside that tree, please bring them here," Coen said, indicating said tree.
Harry eyed the tree, judging the distance. Middling, he decided. Almost too far for him to do it without a wand but definitely much easier to do with one. Decided, he pulled his rowan and willow wand, gave a simple swish and flick and directed the buckets through the air to land beside them. Instantly, Coen took over, wafting his hand from one side to the other, one of the buckets following suit to land opposite its brethren.
"As you can see, this bucket," Coen said, indicating the one to Harry's right, "is filled with water. The other, is empty. We have already ensured that you have touched your magic with the elements of air, fire and earth. Can you guess what we'll be doing now?"
"Water magic?" Harry asked, although he already knew the answer.
"Swirl the water in a circle around itself," Coen directed. "Please be careful not to spill any."
Coen, much like Professor Flitwick back at Hogwarts, had a very different teaching style. Instead of instructing, he allowed time for Harry to work through the problem himself, only stepping in with a hint or an instruction if it was needed. Harry nodded solemnly as he considered what he had to do.
A whirlpool, he decided. Like he'd see if he emptied the sink or a bathtub. But there was no drain to pull the water down with gravity. The gravity in this scenario would be his magic. His magic would be needed to push the water, swirling it around in a circle. Well, he could already do the same thing with the air.
Decided, Harry 'checked' the ball of magic in his centre that he'd been gathering since expending it earlier to move the sand. It wasn't as full as he would have liked. Closing his eyes, he concentrated, searching out the magic in his body, pulling it inward, building it, shaping it. When he was finally satisfied, he opened his eyes once more.
Then, tapping into his magic, he released it in a small steady stream that he directed towards the bucket, over its lip and into the water. It resisted, as he'd expected; after all, water was heavier than air. And then he pushed!
Slowly, the water began to move. It jostled, sloshed up slightly when he almost lost control and settled into being nothing more than a choppy mess in a bucket.
Harry frowned. That wasn't what he wanted. Yes, he was pushing it, but it wasn't going where he wanted it to. The bucket! That was the key. Channelling his magic once again, he directed it to skim the inside of the bucket. The water moved, creating slight waves.
No, he realised. He was only pushing a part of the water, he needed to push all of it. Spreading out his magic, he lined the inside of the bucket and then pushed his magic again. This time, the water moved how he wanted it to. Around and around it went, slow at first and gradually building in speed. The sides rose, the centre fell, just like the whirlpool that he'd imagined.
Harry grinned and glanced at Coen to see him smiling as well as nodding.
"Well done, young Harry," he said. "Now, take it higher, let the side of the water overflow the bucket but send it directly up into the air!"
Harry nodded his understanding and pushed his magic even harder. With the water already moving it was easy! Slowly the water level rose, reached the lip and some splashed out. Harry glared at it. He eased off on the speed, considering. The water was going to do that every time it passed the top of the bucket, it was simply what water did. Without a lip…
Suddenly, the answer was obvious. Extending his magic, Harry raised it above the lip of the bucket and pushed some more. This time, no water splashed out. It rose higher and higher until there was more water above the bucket than there was inside it!
"I'm doing it!" Harry near-shouted. "This is easy."
"In that case, young Harry, take the water from that bucket and place it into the other," Coen instructed.
Harry blanched and nearly lost control of the water, managing to catch it before no more than a few drops had fallen.
His eyes darted from the water swirling in and above the bucket across to the empty one.
How was he supposed to get it over there? he wondered. Without a bucket or a container, the water would simply splash out all over the ground as soon as he even tried to move it out of the bucket. But it already was out of the bucket! He could have kicked himself.
Manipulating his magic as though it was a bucket – an enclosed bucket once he fashioned his magic both above and below the water as well – he began shifting it. Slowly, it rose, passed the lip of the bucket until he could see between the bucket and the swirling water above it and then, gently, carefully, he pushed his magic, floating it across the intervening space.
As soon as he had it hovering above the other bucket, he relaxed, something that he instantly regretted as he lost control of his magic, sending the water plummeting below. And while most landed in the bucket, quite a substantial amount splashed out, onto the ground and up and over both him and Coen.
"An impressive first go," Coen stated, wiping the water from his knees and shirt. "Your instinctive grasp of elemental magic is stronger with water."
"Not as strong as with air, but that was way easier than moving sand," Harry nodded.
"Shall we try again?" Coen asked. "Let's see just how much of an affinity you do have with water magic."
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7:35pm
Monday, 22 August 1995
Australasian Dragon Preserve, Australia
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The knock at his door wasn't appreciated. Harry looked up at it, frowned and promptly ignored it.
He was busy. Books, parchment, notepads and pens littered not only the tiny desk but also the bed behind him and even the floor. Many were open and Harry was flitting between each of them and the page he was writing on, trying to condense them into something coherent. Charms was probably his best magical subject but he knew that he hadn't been putting enough time or effort into his studies as he needed to.
Too much jumping around the world from one crisis to another, he grumbled to himself.
Not that there really had been a lot, nor was he behind. Well, behind where his tutors thought he should be but that feeling of needing to catch up persisted. Unsurprising considering that he'd started his magical education over three years behind his Hogwarts' friends.
The knock came again, a little louder and more insistent this time.
"Come in," he practically growled.
"I know Remus and I call you 'pup' and 'cub', but I never expected you to take on those characteristics," Sirius said as he walked in.
"What's up, Sirius?" Harry asked, ignoring the rebuke.
"What's all this?" Sirius asked, gesturing to the mess.
"I've got a Charms essay that's due the day after tomorrow," Harry replied.
"No, it's not," Sirius countered before holding up a hand to prevent Harry from talking. "It was due then. You know perfectly well that as soon as this thing with the bunyip came up you were given an extra week."
Harry simply shrugged. Knowing it and accepting it were two very different things as far as he was concerned.
"Was there something that I could do for you?" he asked.
"I've got a present for you," Sirius grinned, pulling a slim, flat package out of his pocket and holding it out.
"But you just gave me a present," Harry reminded him, confused, adding in a look at the shelf above his bed where the magical camera sat.
"Well, I've got another present for you," Sirius amended. "Actually, this one's more from Remus, well, not from Remus, he just reminded me about this and I had Kreacher collect it from Grimmauld Place and bring it here. That really is rather ingenious of you, working out that using house elves in combination with the Floo system for international messages is a lot cheaper and faster. Of course, there are faster ways still."
Harry cocked his head at the way that his godfather grinned with the last part. If Harry didn't know better, he'd say that Sirius was in the midst of a prank. His eyes shifted to the package in Sirius' hands and he was suddenly loathe to take it.
"What's in there?" he asked warily.
"Something that I know you're going to want the instant that you see it," Sirius grinned, giving the package an extra shake to emphasise that Harry was supposed to take it.
Reluctantly, Harry complied. Whatever was in the plain, brown paper wrapping was hard but that was all that he could tell. Steeling himself, he carefully undid the tape and unfolded the paper, only to find himself looking back at himself.
"A mirror?" he asked dubiously. "Are you trying to tell me that you think that I'm vain?"
"That's not just any mirror!" Sirius stated. "That was once your Dad's mirror. I had its companion. The times we used them…"
Harry watched him get lost in a memory or three, trying not to let that ache that tended to appear whenever anyone was mentioning his parents without sharing the story with him get to him.
Sirius came back to himself with a shake before fixing Harry with a grin.
"Who would you most like to talk to?" he asked.
"My dad?" Harry replied, saying the first name that popped into his head.
Sirius winced. "Sorry, Pup, I wish that was possible. No. Who would you most like to talk to in the entire world, right now?"
"Daphne," he whispered.
"Harry?"
He blinked, jumped and nearly dropped the mirror at the unexpected voice. His head shot up and around, looking for the girl that he knew was half-a-world away.
"Daphne?" he asked.
"Down here," she laughed, and he looked at the mirror in surprise to see her there, her beautiful blue eyes shining back at him.
"How?" he asked, mentally kicking himself. Surely, he could speak in more than one-word sentences!
"I'm not sure," she replied. "A crazy old house elf delivered it last night. The note with it said that it was from your godfather and that I was to be holding it this morning."
"Morning?" he asked, before giving himself a shake. "Of course, morning. England's what? Ten hours behind the time here in Australia?"
"Something like that," Daphne replied. "It's good to see you, Harry."
"It's great to see you, too, Daph," he replied, grinning at her, his eyes drinking in every part of her that he could see. It may have only been a week but it felt much, much longer. "How are you?"
"I'm well," she replied, "better now that I can see you and talk to you. Do you know how these mirrors work?"
Harry shook his head. "I'll ask Sirius later. What have you been up to? Did you get to stay much longer in Romania?"
"A couple of extra days," she replied. "I got to see Ramaranth again before we left, which was nice. Scary as hell, but nice. But what about you? You rushed off around the world so quickly. What's been happening there?"
Harry's face fell and he could see the instant concern in Daphne's eyes.
"No, no, nothing's wrong," he quickly reassured her, "at least, not anymore."
"What happened?" she asked.
"Well, as you know, I was asked to come because the dragons here were acting really strangely," he began. "What no one knew was that…"
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4:50pm
Monday, 22 August 1995
Just Inside the Northernmost Border of Albania
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It had taken some time to travel this far. However, the entity now inhabiting the snake was content to take his time. Care had to be taken, for, after all, it was a snake. Humans had two predetermined reactions to this animal: flight or kill. And death, going back to being a disembodied spirit was not to be tolerated.
Care, too, had to be taken with the snake's body. It needed food and rest. The time of year also had to be taken into consideration. It was already late summer and a tinge of the cold-to-come was already being teased in the wind very late at night. What was worse was the direction that the being had to travel: north.
But north offered hope. North was where a potential for a worthy vessel could be found and from that body, a powerful body that was eminently suitable for revenge, the ultimate goal of a new body could come about.
The memories of the snake that he now inhabited had contained the greatest surprise, one that led to this decision to travel north.
The snake had seen and heard a human speaking to a dragon. The fact that the snake had understood both had astonished him, for he had had no idea that his ancestor's unusual gift could be used in such a manner. Unfortunately, the snake's memory wasn't as complete as he would have liked – where the snake had been to have seen this marvel was missing, as was the knowledge of how it'd gotten from there to here.
Still, it was enough to formulate this plan, his own knowledge filling in the gap of where to find such a wonderful, potential, unexpected host.
The journey, he knew, would be long and difficult but he had never failed at anything that he'd put his mind to – that night, being the only exception and one that he refused to dwell on. One day in the not so far future, he would claim that body and then the world would know his power and his name once more, even if they dared to never speak it.
He would show them all!