DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

Chapter Sixteen - Messages Delivered

With a gasp, Harry's eyes flew open and he lurched against the body pinning him to the bed. Raising a hand, he rubbed his eyes before turning his attention to the wizard cuddled up beside him. Glowering at the blond, Harry carefully lifted the limp hand from his hair and tried to figure out where to place it. Muttering under his breath, he folded Draco's arm and wiggled out from under the leg thrown across his thighs. He froze when the pale wizard mumbled under his breath and hitched the blankets up to his nose, breath evening out as he slipped deeper into Morpheus.

"I hope you have a terrible headache," he whispered at the blond's still form, stretching slowly as he rose. Rubbing the back of his head, he walked toward the closed doors, pausing with his hand on the wood. He shot a look over his shoulder, emerald eyes resting on the messy blond locks peeping from beneath the duvet. No, he didn't, he thought. Drawing a deep breath, he rested his forehead on the cool wood of the portal, hands flattened on either side of him.

Somewhere within the manor, a bird called softly. Wincing as several raucous cries rent the air in response, he glanced back at Draco and smiled as the wizard shifted slightly. "Sleep through the worst of it." He ordered quietly, pulling the door open and slipping from the room.

He wandered through the winding halls of the sprawling manor, his fingers trailing through the dust layered upon ancient vases and old tables. Each room he peered into was in a terrible state of disrepair. Windows broken. Curtains lying upon the rotting floor. Furniture was moth eaten and stained, the entire place screamed for a good cleaning. Smiling at the sudden thought, he chuckled lightly, thoughts of a summer break spent assisting Mrs. Weasley in cleaning Grimmauld Place filling his head.

Shaking the thoughts off, he left the manor through a set of doors located in one of the side rooms. His feet led him toward the cliffs, following a path long since grown over with grass and weeds. The ground bore the telling marks of the Mage Dragons, deep claw marks and the hint of recently frozen or burnt grass. However, the same grass looked eerily healthy. As if it had been repaired by a loving hand.

Harry shivered and wrapped his arms around his waist, looking out over the dark churning water. He inhaled slowly, savouring the hint of salt carried on the cool breeze. Tipping his chin up, he peered at the pale sky, lifting a hand to shield his eyes from the harsh rays of sunlight. Above him, one of the Mage's floated effortlessly, its shadow sliding upon the ocean's surface. With a flip of long wings, the dragon fell toward the water, talons outstretched. Water flew into the air as the Mage slammed into the shifting liquid, vanishing into its depths.

Narrowing his emerald orbs in puzzlement, Harry eased closer to the cliff's edge, peering doubtfully through the waving grasses. The face of the cliff was sheer rock, craggy with up thrust boulders and sharp spikes of stone. Taking a deep breath, he shuffled closer, staring into the waves sloshing against the base of the rock. Of the dragon, there was no sign.

"Where did you go?" He whispered, stepping back and sitting down carefully. Pulling his knees back to his chest, he rested his chin atop them and glared at the ground. He ran his fingers through the tangled strands of grass, allowing the blades to slip between his tanned digits.

Wincing as the tip of his finger brushed along the sharp edge of a rock hidden in the strands, he cursed softly and slid it between his lips. He froze in the middle of withdrawing the digit, eyes widening in shock. In a quick movement, he pushed whispering blades aside, staring slack-jawed at the piece of metal jutting out of the ground. With gentle fingers, he freed the arrowhead.

"An arrow," he murmured, brow drawing down as he bounced it in the center of his hand. Closing his hand around the sharp piece of metal, he rubbed his thumb cautiously over the tip. "What are you trying to tell me?"

An arrow had killed Raveana but that didn't mean this was the arrowhead that had pierced her chest. The chance was slim, the possibilities endless. A soft whisper rose sharply, stirring the grasses and causing him to jump. "Who's there?" Harry called out, spinning around and widening his stance. Trees groaned along the edge of the forest, their branches dipping as a strong wind tugged angrily at them. Leaves torn free of their moorings swirled around him, waving tauntingly before dropping over the edge of the cliff. Drawing his wand, he took a step in the direction of the manor but stilled as the wind rose in protest, whipping the grasses against his legs.

He took another stiff step, gasping as the edge of the arrowhead nipped the soft flesh between his thumb and index finger. Dropping the piece of metal in shock, he swore before falling to his knees and combing frantically through the blades. It was the sight of the arrowhead resting upon a patch of torn and shredded grass that had him freezing. "It was here." He hissed in realization, rising jerkily to his feet. Here that Raveana had spoken to him, counseled him . . . right before she'd kicked him over the edge of the cliff. To end each dream, the dark-haired witch had always shoved him off the cliff, often she'd smiled sweetly while doing it.

Taking several short steps to the edge of the cliff, he peered dubiously over the edge, searching for something he might recognize. Shaking his head, he began to back away, stilling as something caught his eye. The slight shimmer of magic over open air. He waited impatiently to witness the flicker again, running his tongue over his lips as the air shifted and a wisp of gold became visible. Holding his hand over the glimmer, he took a deep breath before dropping the arrowhead, his mouth falling open when the piece of metal froze in midair.

"Merlin!" Harry yelped, falling backwards in amazement. He crawled forward, lying on his stomach and staring at the floating arrowhead and the small patch of rock it rested upon. Standing, he rubbed the back of his neck and looked in the direction of the broken-down manor. Closing his eyes, he took a slow breath before lifting his left leg and holding it over nothing. Throwing a prayer skyward, he took the plunge and stepped forward.

XxXxX

Draco groaned and lifted his left hand, pressing the heel of his palm against his temple. He cracked one eye slowly, glad that his back was toward the window and the blaring light of the morning sun. Stretching gracefully, he waited with bated breath for one of his limbs to brush against the warmth of Harry's body. He frowned when he found only cold sheets. Sitting up quickly, he moaned and moved his hand to cover his mouth while he sank back to the mattress.

"I'm never drinking again," he croaked, dragging the blankets back over his head. Shutting his eyes, he waited for his stomach to settle. Relaxing into the quietness that surrounded him, he waited the feeling out, smiling proudly when the queasiness fled without him having thrown up.

A sharp tapping broke the silence suddenly, causing the wizard to narrow his eyes and search for his wand. "Go away," he called. Combing his fingers threw his blond hair, he hissed as the sound increased into a loud rapping. A malicious grin settled upon his lips as his fingers closed around the firm length of his wand, drawing the magical instrument closer to his chest he prayed the loud noise would stop. Two minutes later he was envisioning himself leaping from beneath the blankets and zapping whatever was making all the racket while maintaining his cool and calm facade.

Peeping over the edge of the blanket, he leveled his wand at the white owl perched elegantly on the ledge of the window. Pale eyebrow hitching in interest, he lowered his wand and tipped his head. Harry had a Snowy Owl. The large bird never failed to capture his attention when she delivered the raven-haired wizard's mail, her white feathers fairly radiating beauty.

Rubbing his forehead, he considered his chances of the bird leaving on its own but found them lacking. "You better have an important message," he mumbled, sliding from under the thick blanket. Shuffling toward the window in his bare feet, he shielded his eyes from the painful rays of sunlight. Hooting in greeting, the owl flapped her strong wings and pecked at the glass impatiently.

"Can't you see I'm coming?" Draco snarled, attempting to push away the thoughts of de-feathering the white owl. Reaching the window, he leaned against the frame and closed his eyes, drawing several deep breaths while he waited for his head to stop spinning. His fingers fought with the window's lock, the small clasp frustrating him as he tried to open the window without moving from the protection of the dangling curtains. He smiled as the lock clicked open under the pressure of his fingers, the window creaking as it swung open.

In a flurry of feathers, the owl shot into the room. "You stupid, glorified chicken." He hissed, slamming the window closed behind the Snowy Owl. Rubbing his forehead with the tips of his fingers, he glared at the bird perched atop one of the bedposts, feathers puffed up as she hooted at him in indignation.

Draco approached the bed slowly, eyes narrowed on the white owl. He held up his arm in invitation, waiting anxiously as the bird fidgeted upon her perch. "Harry's not here right now, you should know that." He snapped, waving his extended arm for emphasis. A smile slipped over his face as the owl clacked her beak, ruffling her wings as she stared at him with large amber eyes.

He was just about to give up when the owl unfurled her wings and dropped from the bedpost, gliding effortlessly to the perch his arm provided. Rolling his eyes, he untied the small message wrapped around her leg, fingers fumbling with the knot. As soon as the piece of folded parchment fell into his hand, the white owl leapt into the air and flew over to the closed window.

Smiling maliciously, the blond began to unfold the note, ignoring the owl's attempts to get through the glass. His fingers shook as he flattened the creases in the paper, eyes darting over the script scrawled upon the creamy parchment.

Dear Harry and Draco,

We hope that you're both alright and are taking care of each other. By we, I mean Hermione and Blaise. Startling, isn't it? The thought of a Slytherin working with a Gryffindor. Ron and Pansy are trying to help as well, when they're not attempting to verbally injure each other.

Dumbledore has stopped all owls from carrying messages in and out of the school. We believe this is merely a ploy to keep the public from learning of your disappearance, Harry. It is amazingly highhanded but necessary to keep the wizarding world from panicking. We're not sure if Mister Malfoy or Remus have been alerted to the current state of things.

Thus, we have decided it would be best if we all worked together to find a solution to this problem. Blaise and I suggest the pair of you sort out your differences and try to figure out where exactly you are. The Mage Dragons have most likely returned to their original nesting area, however, the library has few books concerning the whereabouts of the last Mage Dragons.

Write us back immediately with any helpful hints you may have come across. Once we figure out where you are, we can begin trying figure out how to get you back to Hogwarts.

Hermione, Ron, Blaise, and Pansy

A movement in the distance drew his gaze, causing him to arch an eyebrow as he watched Harry jump around. Walking slowly toward the window, he paused next to the mad owl and observed the Gryffindor's antics. Leaning against the windowsill, he slid his fingers through the soft chest feathers of the owl. The parchment he held in his fingers crackled as he closed his hand around the note, crumpling it into a small ball.

He should probably go down and show Harry the note but he didn't think he was ready to venture outside yet. Pressing his forehead against the windowpane, he watched in confusion as Harry stood up and peered over the edge of the cliff. His mouth fell open as the raven-haired wizard lifted a foot and dangled it over nothing.

"What are you doing?" Draco screamed, slamming his fist against the glass as he watched the Gryffindor step off the cliff. He stared slack-jawed at the waving grasses growing along the ledge, now devoid of human life. "What did you do?" He screeched, each impact of his hands rattling the glass as he searched for some sign of Harry. The message fell from his hand as he raced from the room.

XxXxX

He struck ground with a thud, landing on his face upon a ledge shielded from sight by magic. Huffing for breath, he pushed himself to his hands and knees and peered into the darkened cave before him. Shaking his daze off, he sat back on his heels, gulping as he looked down into the sloshing water below him. In a flurry of stained and dirtied Quidditch robes, he scurried forward on his hands and knees. Halting just within the mouth of the cave, he whispered Lumos.

"You witch," Harry muttered in disbelief, the words coloured with a combination of amusement and awe. Raveana had indeed been a clever witch, pointing him toward this place without truly saying anything. Rubbing his scraped hands on the front of his shirt, he rose and shuffled further into the cave, the glow from his wand providing the only light.

Metal shone under the faint glow, running the length of one wall in a low line. Lifting his wand higher, he tiptoed through the darkness. Chewing his bottom lip in puzzlement, he reached his hand toward the shine, jumping slightly as his fingers brushed something solid. With a crack, a candle leapt to life upon the wall, its flame stretching toward the low ceiling. Others flickered into existence without warning, brightening the cave in seconds. Feeling foolish holding his wand above his head, Harry hissed Nox and stared at the long box before him.

Stepping closer, he ran the tips of his fingers through the thick layer of dust, cringing as his nails scraped on glass. Using the edge of his sleeve, he carefully wiped away the decades worth of dust, halting as he revealed what lay within.

She lay upon a blanket of emerald velvet, her mass of dark curls arranged gracefully around her head. The ball gown she wore was a dark shade of green, its long ruffled skirts posed artfully about her body. Perfectly preserved by the spell placed on the glass coffin, the pale witch appeared to be sleeping with her hands folded neatly atop her chest. A single band of gold ringed the fourth finger on her left hand, shining faintly in the candlelight. Emblazoned upon the metal, a dragon stretched.

"Raveana," Harry whispered, half expecting the witch to sit up and laugh at him. Her name echoed in the cave, ringing down the tunnel that lay beyond the coffin. Gliding his hand over the glass, he backed away slowly. Bowing his head, he turned in the direction of the tunnel, wand clutched tightly in his fisted hand.

Carved smooth, the tunnel seemed to stretch on forever, brightened only by the odd candle. It was a daunting journey into the earth's depths, each thump of his boots echoing loudly. In a hollowed out area at the end of the tunnel, a large bowl sat atop a marble pedestal. Made of glistening ebony, the basin was shallow and marked around the rim with silver engravings.

Inside the bowl, wisps of silver floated to the surface, blurry images becoming visible before the magic drifted deeper into the basin.

"Pensieve." The word ricocheted off the walls of the niche, making him cringe as he stared into the basin. He bit his bottom lip as he considered the pensieve, wondering if he dared dip into the ancient memories contained within. Sighing, he slid his wand into his pocket and placed his hands on either side of the black bowl. Taking a deep breath, he lowered his face to the silver thoughts and closed his eyes.

XxXxX

The Quibbler
Coldmouth Mage Makes off with Maggie, page 4

A massive white dragon was the first thing that Gordon Fickley saw yesterday when he went out to check on his prize Jersey, Maggie. The dragon was reportedly perched atop the farmer's barn eyeing his herd when he emerged from his house just east of Owl's Glen. Upon hearing his startled shout, the dragon roared and jumped to the ground, scattering the curious cattle milling about. Fickley says he managed to leap out of the path of the icy mist the Coldmouth spat at him but mourns the loss of his vegetable garden. Tragically the garden took the brunt of the blast and remains in a frozen state.

'It was horrible' Fickley said, wiping a tear from his cheek as he stared at his frozen tomatoes. 'I thought it was going to kill me but then it grabbed up Old Maggie and took off.'

Neighbours of Gordon Fickley have reported that they too are missing livestock and all evidence points to dragons. Town council members are currently in the process of arranging a small dragon hunt, which will hopefully take place within the week. All town members have been invited to this historical event.

The Ministry was also notified of the incident but has stated that, to their knowledge, all Mage Dragons were slain centuries ago. At the pleadings of the town's Mayor, Rodney Hidge, the Ministry has agreed to send several Aurors to check the surrounding area but remains doubtful at the possibility of finding any dragons.

Though this reporter smelled the rum on the old wizard's breath, he fully believes something significant took place upon the rural property yesterday. After all, we do have frozen tomatoes as proof. Now if only the carrots could talk . . .

A/N: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review.

kasmo – Perhaps she was a bit ooc, but then again she is under a lot of stress and one of her best friends is missing.
fragonknight01 – When it comes to timing certain things, I like to make sure it's believable. Hedwig couldn't have arrived in the last chapter because we have to consider the distance she has to fly to get to Shirestra.
NinjaoftheDarkness – lol, hey, dirty thoughts are generally the ones that get a lot of laughs. Besides, our minds probably weren't the only ones that wandered.
PleiadesWolfe – Yah, I should probably have had him do something really embarrassing. Raveana's comment was directed at Draco, though he isn't the littlest dragon at Shirestra.
Shinigami – I can definitely bring Luna and Neville into this, as well as the twins with a little maneuvering.
GryffieGurl – One must always consider the intelligence of the dragons, they're pretty smart but at the same time they were almost erased completely from the wizarding world. Harry will need to protect them, in the very near future might I add. Raveana was also including Draco when she made that comment, after all, he does carry her flute. As for how much I'm giving you on the lady witch herself, I like to keep everyone guessing, though the next chapter will reveal some very interesting information. I hope I answered your review well enough, as it was extremely long and I do have to be careful about how much information I give away.