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 26 – What Were We Doing Again?
9:05am
Thursday, 25 August 1995
12 Grimmauld Place, London, England
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"Honey! We're home!" Sirius called as he walked through the door.
'Honey', as it turned out, was an ancient, grouchy house elf who didn't seem too pleased with the term of endearment.
"Master has returned," Kreacher stated, his tone implying that he would have been happy if Sirius had never returned in his lifetime.
"Hope you've been keeping the house clean, Kreacher," Sirius said. "We've got guests."
"Kreacher sees," and again, the house elf implied that Sirius was imposing on Kreacher's house and time.
"Come on in, you lot," Sirius waved to Harry, Remus and Charlie. "The old house isn't much but it'll keep us out of the Ministry's sight until we're ready."
"Are you sure that you want to stay here, Charlie?" Remus asked. "You could always go home to the Burrow?"
"No thanks," Charlie replied quickly. "We've got no idea how long we're going to be in England, and I don't think that I could handle my mother for more than a day or so."
Harry had only ever met Mrs Weasley the once and once was enough. She'd tried to hug him and he didn't even know her! If she was like that with strangers, he shuddered to think what she'd be like with her own children.
"Come on up to the second level, there should be some rooms clean enough for us to use, despite Kreacher's lack of talent in that area," Sirius said.
"Kreacher does as his Mistress commands," the elf defended himself.
"Your Mistress is dead," Sirius barked. "Your job is to do as I command!"
"Yes, Master," Kreacher grudgingly replied.
"What's the plan for the day?" Harry asked as they began trudging up the staircase.
"We get ourselves settled and then we go find where this new Reserve is, see if we can have a look for ourselves before we make our presence known officially," Charlie said.
The first floor looked as dark as the entry. The walls were grimy and almost black from age. The wooden floors were no better and if there was a pattern on the hall runners, Harry could no longer see it. The covers over the gas lights were tarnished with age, seeming to only grudgingly share its light with the four of them.
The bedrooms on the second floor were barely usable and Harry scrunched his nose at the first one they investigated. The curtains rustled on their own and there was a thick layer of dust covering everything. Sirius took one look at it, grunted in disgust and promptly slammed the door shut, throwing up an impervious charm on it to keep whatever was inside the room where it was.
In the end, they managed to find three that, with some judicious use of charms, were usable enough to be going on with. Sirius declared that his old bedroom was good enough for him; Harry was given the honour of getting to use Sirius' younger brother's old room (which, surprisingly to Harry, was in immaculate condition); and Remus and Charlie were given the last one, both content with the twin beds on either side of the room.
There was a trunk already at the foot of the enormous four-poster bed but Harry decided to move it out of the way into a corner before replacing it with his own. As soon as he'd done so, he quickly opened it and descended into his workroom. As expected, it was in perfect condition, nothing had moved despite all the jostling that his trunk would have suffered in his pocket.
Hedwig instantly flapped down to his shoulder, her head turned away.
"Sorry, girl, I know that you don't like travelling in the trunk, but you know that you hate portkey travel even more," he said.
The fact that he grabbed up the owl perch that he'd made for her from where it had been sitting beside his umbrella plant and make his way back to the ladder seemed to placate her. After placing the perch near the desk, he opened the window and let Hedwig soar out to investigate this new area that they were now in.
"Harry? Are you about ready?" Charlie asked from his doorway.
After double-checking that the window wasn't likely to close while they were away, he nodded, summoned his broom and shrunk it and strode from the room. A quick discussion with Sirius and Remus, had the two of them deciding to stay behind and ensure that the house was liveable for them, both in terms of more rooms being cleaned and there being some good edible food for meals. That meant that the initial investigation would be undertaken by just the two dragon handlers.
"Shetland Islands, right?" Harry asked as the two exited the Ancient House of Black.
"One of the islands," Charlie nodded.
"How many are there?" Harry asked.
"About a hundred," Charlie frowned.
"Then how are we supposed to find which one has the Reserve?" Harry wondered.
"Magic," Charlie grinned, and Harry rolled his eyes. "Right, hold on to my arm. I'm going to apparate us to Hogsmeade first before we make a second jump to the islands," Charlie said.
Obediently, Harry stepped forward and grasped his upper arm. Then, with a feeling as though he was being squeezed through the tiniest tube, they vanished from the spot.
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10:45am
Thursday, 25 August 1995
Lerwick, Shetland Islands, Scotland
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They'd arrived in Lerwick, the main town and port of Shetland, just outside the main pub, it being the only place that Charlie knew. Fortunately, Charlie had foreseen the chance that they might be seen apparating in so had cast a disillusionment spell over the two of them. Even still, the three men and two dogs who were nearby had looked around curiously, obviously trying to find the source of the crack that had been made.
Charlie had quickly grabbed Harry's arm and steered the two of them away, up the nearby street and around into a deserted alley where he was finally able to dispel the charm.
"I don't think I like apparating," Harry commented. "Give me a broom or a dragon any day."
"It's worse when you're the passenger," Charlie assured him. "By yourself it's not so bad. Remind me to start giving you lessons once this latest crisis is over."
"I can learn to do it by myself?" Harry asked.
"Of course!" Charlie replied. "You were emancipated, remember? You're an adult with all the rights and privileges that go with it, including being allowed to get an apparition licence."
"Brilliant!" Harry beamed.
"Right, come on! This way!" Charlie said.
Even though the town itself wasn't large – there being only around seven thousand people living there – it still took some time before they were able to find what Charlie was looking for: a secluded spot where they wouldn't be disturbed.
"You said that there are a hundred islands?" Harry asked, looking out over the dark blue water that stretched out from the shore that they were standing on.
"That's right," Charlie replied, pulling his bag from his back and opening it.
"Then how are we meant to find the dragons?" Harry insisted.
"I told you. Magic," Charlie grinned and pulled forth a small carved statue.
Harry frowned at it. In some respects, it was similar to any of the ones that he himself had carved. The big difference, though, was in its material. Where Harry used a collection of different woods, this dragon had been carved from a jet black stone that had streaks of white marble through it.
"What's that?" Harry asked curiously.
"This, my dear Harry, is the reason that I made sure that Sirius and Remus didn't accompany us today," Charlie replied. "It's a trade secret, known only to dragon handlers and there are only five in existence in the world."
"Five?" Harry asked as something clicked in his mind. "Just like there are five dragon reserves?"
"Exactly the same," Charlie grinned. "This one belongs to the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary. You're one of us, and in training to become a dragon handler, so Alexander gave the okay for you to know about it."
"Brilliant!" Harry exclaimed. Then, "what does it do?"
"As you know, the wards around the reserves don't do squat for actually keeping the dragons in, they're all for show for the wizards of the rest of the world," Charlie began. "Occasionally, as you know, a dragon gets out and wanders off. When that happens, we need a way to track it down. This little beauty does exactly that."
Harry nodded even though he had no idea how the little dragon statue could do what Charlie claimed. He watched as he placed the statue on the ground and pulled out his wand and his shrunken broom.
"Best get your broom out, too, Harry," Charlie advised. "Unshrink it and then disillusion it and yourself and be ready!"
Harry did as he was told even though he had no idea what he had to be ready for. He watched as Charlie tapped himself on his head and his body, from top to toe, simply vanishing from view.
"How will I know where you are?" Harry asked. "I can't see you."
"You don't need to," Charlie replied. "Just watch the dragon and follow it!"
Harry did as instructed, staring at the tiny black and white carved dragon sitting on the ground.
"Invenies draconis!" Charlie intoned.
Instantly, the tiny dragon seemed to shake itself loose. It stretched first one wing and then the other. Next it shook its head, neck and tail. Finally, it raised its tiny snout as though it was sniffing the air.
And then it was up, flapping its tiny wings as it rose ten, twenty feet into the air. Its tiny eyes whirled green and it took off, flying faster than Harry would have given it credit for.
Quickly, he threw a leg over his Nimbus and kicked off, racing after the tiny dragon. The statue was near-impossible to see, even in the light of day but that didn't stop Harry. He locked onto it and gave chase.
At first, it seemed to waver about somewhat, as though it was checking direction, but then it settled onto a north-westerly course and Harry relaxed into the flight. There was no telling exactly how far they had to fly. All he knew was that, whatever magic was imbued in the tiny flying statue, it seemed to be doing its job.
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11:55am
Thursday, 25 August 1995
Sandness, Shetland Islands, Scotland
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The tiny black and white flying dragon suddenly vanishing startled Harry and he yelled out in shock.
"It's alright," the still-invisible Charlie called, "I've just grabbed our little friend. Land down there on the headland."
Harry adjusted his grip on his broom and leant forwards, quickly bringing himself in for a landing. The muffled sound of something scraping on the rocks was enough to have him guessing where Charlie had also landed.
"There's no one around, we might as well dispel the charm," Charlie said, even as his body began reappearing.
Tapping himself on his head, Harry once again felt that unnerving feeling like egg was running down his head and body. Seeing Charlie's nod, he knew that he'd got it right.
"Why'd we stop?" Harry asked.
"Because we know where we're going?" Charlie replied. "Papa Stour. It's the only island out that way."
"You know that for sure?" Harry asked.
Charlie simply grinned even as he held up what Harry recognised as a map. "No doubt about it."
Harry watched as Charlie tapped the little dragon, once again rendering it into nothing more than a simple statue and then carefully put it back in his bag.
"Do we know anything about … what was it? Papa Smurf?" Harry asked.
"Papa Stour," Charlie corrected even as he pulled out a guidebook. "Let's see. It's in the top ten for size of islands in the archipelago and has a population of about twenty."
"People live there?" Harry asked, staring across the sea to the blob on the horizon.
"I suspect that they did," Charlie replied. "My bet would be that the Ministry either paid them to leave or 'convinced' them to leave."
"That doesn't sound right," Harry frowned.
"It's not, but there's nothing that we can do about it," Charlie replied. "From what I can see on this map, it's not a bad size island, definitely something that would work for a Reserve. Shall we go take a closer look?"
"I like the sound of that," Harry said, already mounting his broom.
Together the two sped across the one-and-a-half-kilometre stretch of open water. Below them, waves rose and fell, the water a deep blue despite the sunlight.
Harry was focused on getting there, to find the dragons and to see if they were alright but the closer that he came, the more that a pit of wrongness began building in his chest. It was just him and Charlie. But that didn't seem right to Harry. The two of them searching this entire area. He didn't think that that they'd be enough.
Maybe if there were more of them? He wondered. Yes, that sounded right.
Sirius. The name burst into Harry's head and he nodded. Yes. Sirius. And Remus. He thought that he and Charlie should go and get the two of them to help.
But was four really enough? Harry had to wonder.
It didn't seem enough.
Harry had started to wonder what they were doing in England at all, just the four of them. He knew that they were searching for dragons. A search that he felt deserved more than just four people. They needed more, he decided. There were more, he knew, back in Romania. That made a lot more sense to Harry.
He nodded to himself. They should return to Romania and get more people before they started this search.
Decision made, Harry turned his broom and flew back the way that he'd come. Looking across, he was delighted to see that Charlie was flying beside him.
Smart man, that Charlie, Harry thought. He'd obviously come to the same conclusion.
But then he saw Charlie start to shake his head. He did it again, this time a lot more vigorously. Harry's eyes narrowed and he wondered if there was something wrong with Charlie. Harry's own head began pounding and he groaned.
"Land back on the headland!" Charlie shouted.
The idea made sense to Harry and he pushed his Nimbus harder in order to get there sooner. The instant that his feet touched down, the pounding in his head stopped, as though a switch had been thrown.
"What in Merlin's name was that?" Harry asked.
"Wizard-repelling ward," Charlie grimaced. "Powerful one, too." Obviously recognising Harry's head-tilt as a request for more information, he continued. "It's like a muggle-repelling ward, designed to stop certain people – in this case wizards – from getting too close. Typically, they enchant you to think of something else, anything really, as long as it gets you to turn around and go away."
"Well, it did its job," Harry allowed. "But that means that we can't get near Papa Stour."
"No, not that way, at least," Charlie frowned.
"What other way is there?" Harry asked.
"The official way," Charlie grimaced.
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12:20pm
Thursday, 25 August 1995
Romanian Dragon Sanctuary, Romania
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"Boss?"
Alexander looked up from the parchment that he was struggling over, in two minds between wanting to strangle Pavel, one of the junior dragon handlers, for interrupting his train of thought or cheer him for giving him an excuse to take a break from this odious chore.
Not for the first time or even the hundredth time, he wondered how in the name of Merlin's saggy balls he'd drawn the short straw for writing the formal letter from the combined Dragon Reserves of the World to the British Ministry of Magic, offering their support and expertise in the forming of the newest dragon reserve.
Of course, he knew the answer. Harry Potter. The blasted Green had come to his Reserve seeking the lad out. The boy who could talk to dragons. And the only person in the world who the dragons were likely to listen to. The fact that young Harry was primarily assigned to the Romanian Reserve meant that, by default, Alexander himself got the dubious honour of writing the blasted letter.
"What is it, Pavel?" he asked, laying the quill aside.
"Boss, was it just supposed to be that Common Welsh Green who was to fly back to Britain by herself?" Pavel asked.
"Farlys? Yes. Why?" Alexander asked suspiciously
"Well, she left a few minutes ago. Only she wasn't alone," Pavel replied, and Alexander could see how stressed the boy was.
Alexander sighed, closed his eyes and counted to ten. When that didn't help, he opened his eyes and asked the question that he didn't think he wanted to know the answer to.
"Who else went?"
"Three of our dragons," Pavel replied. "A Horntail, an Ironbelly and a Ridgeback."
Once again, Alexander closed his eyes. "Let me guess, Ramaranth, Grouleth and …" his mind came up blank. "Who was the third?"
"That young Ridgeback that Charlie brought back from England a few years back," Pavel replied. "I think her name was Norberta. What should we do, Boss? Go after them?"
"And how exactly do you propose that we bring them back?" Alexander asked rhetorically. "No. We know where they're going. Those dragons are Potter's responsibility. Let him bring them back!"
"Do you want me to send a message to Harry?" Pavel asked.
Alexander grinned. "Nope. The lad tends to thrive on the unexpected. Let him find out when they get there. Now, off you get, I'm sure that you're on potion-making duty this morning."
"Yes, Boss," Pavel replied before promptly disappearing.
Grumbling, Alexander picked the quill back up. He was pleased with his decision. If he had to write the damned letter, then Potter deserved something unexpected and unpleasant as well!