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 28 – The Boys Are Back In Town
4:00pm
Thursday, 25 August 1995
Papa Stour, Shetland Islands, Scotland
.
As soon as the portkey had released the five of them and Harry had recovered from his stumble, he looked around. They were near a collection of short, squat stone buildings with thick thatched rooves. Dirt paths led from one to another in a vague resemblance of a street and there were even some small flower gardens in evidence. It was obvious that, until fairly recently, this tiny hamlet had been inhabited.
The one thing that Harry didn't feel, was any pull on his magic, nor any desire to 'go away'. He raised a quizzical eyebrow at Charlie who moved closer and bent his head.
"It's because we're inside the wards," he whispered. "It won't affect us here."
Harry nodded in understanding.
"How many people live here?" Remus asked.
"Before we bought the island, there were seventeen muggles," Madam Grimblehawk replied. "They were all offered exceedingly generation compensation for moving."
"Glad to hear it," Sirius said.
"Everything that we're doing here is above board, there are no hidden tricks or under the table deals happening," she stated emphatically. "I would have it no other way!"
Harry smiled at her, very pleased to hear it.
"How many dragon handlers do you have so far?" Charlie asked.
For a second, she looked slightly embarrassed. "Just the one, I'm afraid. And there he is now!"
They turned to see a middle-aged man with a full salt and pepper beard striding towards them.
"Angus McNalty, I'd like you to meet Harry Potter, Charles Weasley, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin," Madam Grimblehawk introduced.
"Please, it's just Charlie," the dragon handler said to both of them as he shook Angus' hand.
"Mister Potter, a pleasure ta meet ya," Angus exclaimed, and Harry was sure that his arm was about to fall off with how hard it was being pumped. "I've read all your articles."
Harry blinked at him. "There hasn't been that many."
"Doesna matter," Angus replied. "A man who can talk to yon beasties, is a man ta listen to!"
"Charlie and Harry are here to get a feel for our new Reserve," Madam Grimblehawk stated.
"Yer no gonna get a chance ta see much, comin' so late in the day," Angus stated, "but I'm happy to show ya as much as I can."
"Perhaps if I could just get a chance to meet the dragons today?" Harry suggested, "and then we can have a proper look at everything tomorrow?"
"Aye, that sounds like a plan," Angus replied. "How'n are ya thinking of doin' tha'?"
"How many dragons do you have here so far?" Charlie asked.
"So far, we've managed to move twenty-three Hibernian Blacks and nineteen Common Welsh Greens here," Madam Grimblehawk replied.
"Eighteen Greens," Angus corrected looking embarrassed.
"Don't worry about Farlys," Harry smiled. "She'll be back in a day or two."
"Farlys?" Angus asked, looking at his boss for clarification.
"Apparently our missing Green flew off to Romania to talk to Mister Potter," she told him.
"Harry," he corrected.
"Of course," Angus nodded. "With'n you bein' the only man in the worl' who can talk to yon dragons, that makes sense."
Pulling his broom from his pocket, Harry enlarged it and looked around the island.
"Which way?" he asked.
"Follow the coastline around to the west and you'll find them," Angus replied. "Most of them tend to sleep near the ocean."
"Thanks," Harry replied.
As he pushed off from the ground and sped off, he heard Madam Grimblehawk ask if what he was doing was safe and, while he didn't hear the answer, Sirius' barking laugh was something that could be heard for miles.
Approaching dragons was never an easy prospect, even for him. Until he'd had a chance to Speak to them and for them to recognise his Mark, then he knew that it was best to be cautious. He'd experienced that in Australia where the dragons had been wary of him at first. And these dragons had recently been uprooted from their homes; they were sure to be distrustful of any human.
Thankfully, these dragons weren't lying in wait, hidden beneath the sand. Instead, their bulk stood out against the grey-green grass and the grey-brown stones. Really, it was a bleak island, not that Harry thought the dragons would mind, especially if there were some sheep or something brought in to supplement what was sure to currently be a solely fish-based diet.
A sleek black body was the first that he saw. Its bulk was halfway up a small hill, its head pointed down towards the sea and its tail and wings wrapped tight against its body. Harry slowed and turned, angling in so that he was approaching where the dragon could see him.
The instant that he saw the great eye change from blue to orange, he knew that he'd been spotted. Quickly, he landed, deciding that walking the last hundred metres was a much better idea than flying straight in.
§Hello§! he called. §I mean you no harm§.
Instantly, the dragon's head lifted and golden flecks were added to the orange of its eyes.
§My name is Harry Potter§, he continued. §I am called 'Speaker for Dragons'§.
That brought the dragon to its feet and its wings unfurled slightly. Even more unexpected were the five other dragons that popped up from over the crest of the hill. Deciding that it was best to allow the dragons to approach on their terms, he stopped and placed his Nimbus on the ground.
He watched as the first dragon, the Hibernian Black, stalked towards him. There was something in the way it held itself that had Harry cocking his head. It appeared cautious but with an undertone of excitement that it seemed to be trying to suppress.
§You are truly Harry Potter§? the Black asked. §Do you know who Farlys is§?
Harry grinned at him (now that he'd heard his voice, there was no doubt that the Black was a male, still young, if Harry was to guess). §I first met Farlys last year at a two-leg contest where I also met Ramaranth and painted her picture§.
§It is you§! the Black exclaimed before swinging her head around and bugling loud enough to be heard on every part of the island.
§May I ask your name§? Harry asked.
§I am Bremlys§, he replied.
And then the other dragons started arriving. First the five that had been watching from just over the hill came lumbering down. Another three flew in from the water where Harry guessed they'd been fishing. Then, in ones, twos, fives or more, the rest of the dragons flew in until Harry was completely surrounded by a sea of black and green, all trying to get a good look at him.
§Harry Potter§.
§Farlys said he would come§.
§He carries the Mark§!
§Is he here to help us§?
Harry held up his hands to quiet them, even as he turned around in a circle.
§It's wonderful to meet you all and I aim to learn all of your names§, he said. I don't have a lot of time today, but I wanted to meet you and let you know that I will do everything I can for you§.
§You bear the Mark§, an older Black stated.
§I do§, Harry replied, inclining his head to the elder. §It was given to me by Memzath, the Weyr Leader of the Romanian Dragons, who deemed me worthy to carry it and to Speak to and for all dragons of the world, wherever they may be. I treat it as the greatest honour that I've ever received§
The low thrumming from the combined dragons startled him at first, it was musical and filled him with happiness and approval from the bottom of his feet up to the tips of his ears.
§Memzath relays his greetings to you, as does Dankrum, the Weyr Leader of the Antipodean Opaleyes in Australia§, he continued. §May I know who is Weyr Leader here§?
Unexpectedly, the dragons looked abashed, although how Harry knew that, he had no idea.
§We do not have a Weyr Leader§, Bremlys told him. §Before we came here, we were scattered throughout the land, in weyrs of our own§.
§I understand§, Harry replied.
§Perhaps if we are to stay here, you can help us choose§? Bremlys asked, a sentiment that, once again, gained the approval of the others, as evident by the dragons thrumming deep in their chests.
§It would be my honour§, Harry replied, bowing. §Until that time, may I ask which of you is the eldest dragon§?
The Black that had asked about his Mark took a small step forward. §I, Myrddys, have that honour§.
§It is an honour to meet you, Myrddys§, Harry bowed. §I ask that you help me in understanding what has happened here and what you and the rest of the Weyr would like to see happen§.
§As you wish, Speaker§, Myrddys replied.
§Perhaps we could start with a fly over this island so that I can see if it is suitable as a Weyr§? Harry suggested.
§You are wise, Speaker§, Myrddys replied.
The great gust of wind from all of the dragons leaping skywards, their wings beating down to help them gain height, nearly knocked Harry to the ground. Quickly, though, he picked up his Nimbus, mounted and took to the sky. Then, with Myrddys on one side of him, Bremlys on the other and the remaining thirty-nine dragons flying in formation above and behind him, he took a long, leisurely flight over and around the island.
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9:02am
Thursday, 26 August 1995
Ministry of Magic, London, England
.
Cornelius Fudge had barely sat in his high-backed, comfortable black leather seat when the intercom buzzer went off. He froze and stared at it with narrowed eyes.
No, he thought, denying what he was sure it heralded.
The standing orders that his secretary had – his orders, the orders of the Minister of Magic – were that he wasn't to have any appointments until at least ten am, preferably eleven. Now, was when he was supposed to be receiving his morning tea and pastries, something that had nothing to do with his intercom.
Bzzzz!
He stared at it, the longer tone telling him that Elise, his secretary, really wanted his attention, most likely because of whatever or whoever it was about was urgent. When it came a third time, and this time sounding nearly twice as long as the last, he knew the answer.
"Yes?" he asked, stabbing the button, hoping against all hope.
"Sorry to disturb you, Minister," Elise said, "but the Undersecretary is here to see you. She says that it's quite urgent."
As if there's ever a time that it's not urgent with her, Cornelius thought.
He really was in no mood for her but unfortunately, he didn't have a choice. If he knew the toa… er, his Undersecretary, then she'd just stay out there annoying Elise until he let her in.
"Please send her in," he said, using his most jovial tone, knowing that Umbridge could hear.
Moments later, the door opened to reveal the squat, pink form of his Undersecretary.
"Good morning, Dolores," he said. "How are you this morning?"
"Good morning, Minister. I'm very well, thank you for asking," her high girly voice answered.
He considered offering her a chair but decided against it in the hope that she wouldn't stay long.
"What is it that I can do for you, this morning?" he asked.
"Were you aware, Minister, that Harry Potter was here yesterday?" she asked sweetly.
Cornelius stared at her, repeating the words in his own mind. Harry Potter? Here?
"Yes, Minister," and it was only when she answered that he realised that he'd actually voiced the thoughts. "I have been reliably informed that he, and those with him, visited Mathilda Grimblehawk in her office for the Regulation and Monitoring of the Dragons of Great Britain."
"He did?" Cornelius asked.
Hope bloomed in his chest. He … the Ministry … had taken quite a beating when Potter had left Britain and especially because he'd left after signing a lengthy contract with the dragon reserves of the world. The public had been up in arms over The-Boy-Who-Lived abandoning them and blamed him! Not that Cornelius had been able to do anything to stop it from happening. He'd even tried to lure him into staying by creating the department that Grimblehawk ran, after all, if the boy wanted dragons, then there were dragons right here!
What was worse in Cornelius' mind was the betrayal that he personally felt. Young Harry had been thrust into the magical world quite by accident, thanks to that blasted – or blessed – Goblet of Fire. Cornelius had done everything that he could to help the boy, even going so far as to arrange to have him emancipated so that he could leave his relatives and keep his magic. Not that Potter had been grateful at all!
"Yes, Minister," and already Umbridge's simpering voice was starting to grate on his nerves.
"Do you know what was discussed?" he asked.
"Unfortunately, no, Minister," Umbridge replied. "Although, one of those with him was Charles Weasley, the dragon handler that we offered the position of Head Dragon Handler for our new Reserve to."
If Weasley and Potter were here …? Could it mean …? But what if it didn't? There were simply too many unknowns and too many questions that needed answers to. Despite the time and his own standing orders, he needed to get to the bottom of this.
"Elise," he said, flicking the intercom open to his secretary. "Send a runner and get Mathilda Grimblehawk from the Dragon Office down here immediately."
"Yes, Minister," she replied.
Unfortunately, that left him alone with Dolores until Mathilda arrived. Suppressing his internal grimace, Cornelius bustled about his desk, looking for work to do so that he wasn't forced into small talk with the woman. The first report that he picked up, on cauldron bottom thicknesses (ironically written by the younger brother of Charles Weasley) was incredibly dull and, while Cornelius had no idea why it'd been written in the first place, was still a hundred times better than talking with his Undersecretary.
A knock on his door saw him discarding the thing and looking up. Dolores had taken a seat on the opposite side of his desk and appeared to be reading a report of her own.
"Come in!" he called.
As expected, the person that he'd called for appeared.
"Madam Grimblehawk, thank you for coming," he said, standing and indicating the remaining chair to her.
"Good morning, Minister," she replied. "Thank you."
"Thank you for coming," he said. "I understand that you had some visitors yesterday?"
"Yes, Minister. Harry Potter, Charlie Weasley, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin," she replied.
Cornelius blanched. Black was back as well? The Black Proxy in the Wizengamot was bad enough – she seemed to delight in asking awkward questions – but to have the Lord Black back? He shuddered to think what that portended. Hastily, he shoved the thought aside, there were more pressing matters at hand.
"Can I ask what the nature of the meeting was about?" he asked.
"It was threefold," she replied. "Firstly, Charlie declined our offer to make him our Head Dragon Handler, a disappointing outcome but not wholly unexpected. Charlie then went on to say that he was there at the request of the dragon handlers from the other Reserves, to observe how our Reserve is set up and how we intend on running things."
"What gives them any right to look into how we run things?" Umbridge asked indignantly. "This is the British Dragon Reserve. There is no doubt that how we operate will be superior to any other Reserve in the world."
"There is a lot that we don't know and much that they could teach us," Cornelius countered.
"We're still too new to know exactly what we're doing," Mathilda nodded in agreement with him.
"What could they possibly teach us?" Dolores snorted.
"Well, for one, they knew that we'd already lost one of our dragons," she replied. "It flew straight through our wards."
"But we paid top galleon for those wards!" Cornelius protested, wondering if he should be asking for his money back.
"And they are top of the line wards, you can't get any better," Mathilda replied. "But apparently, wards are like tissue paper to dragons. They mean next to nothing!"
"Impossible!" Dolores stated and Cornelius rolled her eyes at her.
"Is that the same with every Reserve?" he asked.
"Apparently yes," she replied.
"Then how do they keep their dragons?" he wondered.
Mathilda shrugged. "The dragons simply decide to stay. It's not something that the Reserves advertise."
He shook his head at the revelation. "I can understand that. Out of curiosity, did they say what happened to the dragon that we lost? Where it went?"
"It went to talk to Harry," Mathilda laughed.
"To Potter! I did tell you, Cornelius, the boy can command dragons. We need to do something to curb him before he gets too powerful!" Umbridge stated, leaning forward in her chair.
"He doesn't command them," Mathilda replied, shaking her head. "But that does bring me to the third reason for their visit yesterday."
"Oh?" Cornelius prompted.
"Because Harry can talk to the dragons, they've chosen him as the person that they're willing to listen to," she said.
"See! I was right!" Umbridge interjected.
Mathilda didn't even pause, continuing to talk while looking straight at the Minister.
"He doesn't command them but they're definitely going to listen to whatever he decides. At the moment, all he's doing is evaluating our Reserve and talking to the dragons we've gathered, listening to what they think about being moved from their homes and if they'd be willing to stay at our new Reserve. Once he's made his decision, he'll take that back to the dragons themselves."
"And whatever he decides, the dragons will follow?" Cornelius asked.
"I think so?" she replied.
Cornelius made a snap decision. "Then let him do what he's come to do. If we can get his endorsement with the dragons, then there is a much higher chance that our new Reserve will succeed."
"Minister! You can't be serious!" a shocked Umbridge declared, her high-pitched voice reaching levels that Cornelius thought only pixies would be able to hear. "Why would you give him this power? Potter's just a boy, a boy who left us! We don't need him!"
"You heard Mathilda, Dolores," Cornelius replied. "The dragons listen to him. And more than that, the public will listen to The-Boy-Who-Lived. We need him happy and saying the right things. And saying them to everyone! Mathilda, whatever you have to do, accommodate young Harry and those with him. Offer him tours, explain everything. Maybe, just maybe, if we give him enough, this whole endeavour will pay off."
"Minister!" Dolores protested.
"Dolores!" he snapped. "We've sunk tens of thousands of galleons into this project already and we'll be spending Merlin knows how much more before it's fully operational. If Harry Potter is the key to making sure it works, then I'm willing to give him what he wants!"
"With your permission, Minister, I'll go back to my office?" Mathilda asked. "I have a meeting with Harry and Charlie arranged for this afternoon."
"Of course," he replied. "Please keep me apprised of any developments. Dolores, thank you for bringing this to my attention, I'm sure that you also have work to do."
With that, both women stood and left, allowing Cornelius to slump back into his chair. He hoped that Elise had his tea ready, he could really use it. And after Dolores, maybe with a splash of brandy?
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9:07am
Thursday, 26 August 1995
Greengrass Manor, Cumbria, England
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It may have still been early but it was much later than Harry had intended. That wasn't by choice and he'd been chaffing at the bit to be here an hour ago but for some infuriating reason, Sirius had been near-impossible to wake that morning. Of course, Harry should have seen it coming the instant that Sirius had declared the night before that he was 'going out' and 'might be late getting home, so don't wait up for me'. Whatever Sirius' night had entailed had left the man both deliriously happy and exceedingly grumpy at being forced to wake up.
Unfortunately, Sirius was the only one who knew exactly where it was that Harry wanted to go. Of course, it wasn't until he'd dropped Harry off where he was now that Sirius asked why he hadn't just taken the Knight Bus. Not that Harry'd ever heard of the thing before then!
Yesterday, their first day back in Britain, they'd tried to keep a fairly low profile – if one didn't count their jaunt through the middle of the Ministry of Magic – thus, hopefully keeping the news of their return out of the papers. And that brought it right back to why Harry had wanted to be where he was an hour ago: just in case The Daily Prophet had caught wind of them and reported the news.
Pulling the magical mirror from his pocket, Harry activated it.
"Daphne!" he called.
A moment later, her brilliant blue eyes were looking back at him.
"Hey, Harry!" she smiled.
"How are you? Have you had breakfast yet?" he asked.
"I'm well, Harry," she replied. "And since it's still holidays, I've been able to continue my sleep-ins. I'm just about to head down to breakfast now."
"Brilliant!" Harry exclaimed.
She cocked her head at him in obvious puzzlement.
"Exactly why is it 'brilliant' that I have yet to have my breakfast?" she asked.
Because that means that you haven't had a chance to see the newspaper, he thought, while instead saying, "because I was wondering if you could do me a favour."
"A favour?" she asked, one delicate eyebrow arching.
He grinned at her and lifted the mirror up and away so that, as well as his face, it now showed a view of the land around him. And the house in the distance behind him.
"Well, you see, I'm kind of stuck where I am and I was wondering if you knew the best way for me to get in?" he said, his grin threatening to spill into laughter.
He watched as her eyes narrowed and then widened in shock and recognition.
"Harry Potter, exactly where are you right now?" she demanded.
"I'm standing outside some ancient manor," he replied. "I mean, it looks quite nice from here, especially all the trees and flowerbeds and grass, especially the grass, it's just so green, that grass!"
"Are you …? You are! That's Greengrass Manor!" she exclaimed. "You're here? What are you doing here? I thought you were in Romania?"
Harry laughed as the words and questions tumbled from her.
"Daphne! Daphne!" he called. "Do you think that you could let me in? I can't get past the wards."
Her mouth instantly shutting preceded the image in the mirror being jolted around so much that Harry found it almost sickening to watch.
"Father!" he heard Daphne yell.
The conversation from his end was rather muffled, Daphne, though, he heard perfectly.
"Harry's at the front gate! We need to let him in!" … "Yes! He's really there! See!" there was a brief flash of Cyrus' face before the mirror was seemingly snatched back by Daphne. "No, I don't know why he's here, but I'm sure that he'll tell us just as soon as we add his name to the ward book so that he can come in!" … "Thank you, Father! I'll go get Harry and bring him in!"
And then the mirror was jostling again, not that Harry was really paying it any attention for a few seconds later, a slim figure, her black hair trailing out behind her, was racing out the front door and down the long drive towards him.