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.
/ ( 0 v 0 ) \
Harry Potter: Dragon Whisperer
Chapter 31 – The Beginnings of Plans
9:45am
Friday, 27 August 1995
Ministry of Magic, London, England
.
He felt the stares from the moment that he stepped out of Floo into the Atrium (without stumbling). It had been bad enough the first time that he was there. Hogsmeade wasn't much better. Both of those times, though, he'd had an advantage – people to cover him, provide a buffer. This time was different.
Sirius had insisted that him coming to the Ministry by himself was a bad idea; Remus had insisted back that Harry was a man, an adult and quite capable of standing up for himself. He'd sided with Remus but was now having second thoughts.
Everywhere he looked, it was to see people stopped in their tracks, every eye trained on him, many whispering to their neighbours. Part of him wanted to know what they were thinking, what they were saying. Was it because he was The-Boy-Who-Lived? Or maybe because he could speak to dragons? More than likely, it was because he'd rebutted Fudge's claims and now everyone knew that he wasn't planning to stay in England, that this was just a brief visit.
Whatever the reason for those stares and whispers, there was nothing to be done about it. Fleetingly, he entertained the thought of how these people would react if he had Ramaranth at his back. The amusement was enough to get him moving again.
Squaring his shoulders, Harry strode forward. At the Check In Point, he had his wand registered and then he was off, angled for the lifts.
And still those damn people stared!
As much as he tried to keep his eyes forward, he couldn't help but notice them. He wished that they'd stop!
Surely there's something else more interesting to look at? he thought as he strode alongside the Fountain of Magical Brethren.
The sound of the water falling caught his attention and he glanced to see the water shooting from the witch and wizard's wands, the ears of the house elf, the goblin's hat and the centaur's bow. All that water gave him an idea.
Slowing his walk, he focussed inward, gathering his magic into its customary ball in his chest. As soon as he was content with its power and shape, he opened a small 'hole' and directed his magic towards the water.
Coen had been teaching him finesse but for this, he thought the bigger, the messier, the wetter the better. Harry sent his magic into the pool of water at the bottom of the fountain and let it spread out around the sides and then he pushed. Instantly, the water started swirling. Around and around, faster and faster, until a great whirlpool began forming. As he knew that he should, Harry extended his magic up from the sides of the fountain, holding the water in shape as a tornado of water quickly engulfed the magical statues.
People everywhere gasped and cried out in surprise and fright. He saw them glancing around, looking for who or what was responsible, the one who'd have their wand trained on the statue and the water, before their eyes snapped back to the watery sight before them. Some stepped closer, most backed away.
And then Harry simply let go.
Without his magic holding its shape, the water plummeted down, hitting the marble floor with a loud crash! Water splashed back up, spraying every which way before rushing out and away. Those closest were instantly drenched. Others began running, attempting to keep their shoes and robes from getting soaked. Some remained stock-still, letting the water fall on them in their incomprehension.
In the pandemonium that he'd created, Harry slipped into the nearest lift … and all but cursed.
There, standing in the corner of the lift, as though he had nothing better to do, was Albus Dumbledore. The ancient eyes were twinkling in amusement as they looked over his half-moon spectacles at Harry and he had a small smile on his face. His robes – a garish yellow with tiny red, purple and black shooting stars shifting and moving about were enough to cause Harry to wince and squint.
"Ah, Harry, my boy," Dumbledore greeted him, as though he'd been expecting Harry to walk in.
"Headmaster Dumbledore," Harry nodded curtly back before stabbing at the button to take him to what he hoped would be the safety of Madam Grimblehawk's office.
Harry sidled to the side, as far away from the ancient wizard as he could get in the small space and ensuring that he had his back to a wall.
"That was quite an amusing distraction you caused out there," Dumbledore remarked casually.
"What?" Harry asked, narrowing his eyes.
How had the man known that he'd been the one to do that? he wondered. As far as Harry knew, there were only a handful of people in the world, let alone in England who knew about his elemental magic and he was certain that none of them would have told Dumbledore.
As the lift began moving, Dumbledore waved his hand as though Harry's protest was irrelevant.
"I'm pleased that we were able to bump into each other," Dumbledore continued. "We never did finish our last conversation. Perhaps now might be a good time?"
The lift jerking to a halt and the doors rattling open gave Harry time to come up with a way to say, 'hell no!' in a polite way – not that he'd worked out what that was just yet.
The appearance of Amelia Bones standing there, obviously waiting for the lift was completely unexpected. Harry saw her eyes dart from him to Dumbledore and back to Harry again.
"Ah, Mister Potter, just the person I was looking for," she said. "I believe that we had a meeting scheduled? If you will kindly follow me?"
"Of course, Madam Bones," Harry said, desperately trying not to sound too eager.
He quickly jumped out of the lift and to her side.
"Albus," Amelia said, giving the Headmaster a nod seconds before the lift doors closed.
"Harry!" Dumbledore quickly called through the cage but was whisked away before Harry could respond, not that he wanted to.
"Thanks," Harry said, breathing a sigh of relief.
"You're welcome," she said, a hint of a smile on her face. "Where was it that you were really going?"
"I have a meeting with Madam Grimblehawk in the Dragon Office this morning," he replied.
"How about you spend a few minutes with me while we wait for the lifts and corridors to clear of unwanted nuisances?" she suggested. "I'll have Beth, my secretary, send Madam Grimblehawk a note telling her that you're going to be a little late."
"Thanks, Madam Bones, I really appreciate it," Harry replied.
Madam Bones led him deeper into what was clearly the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. There were red-robed aurors everywhere, some at desks, others rushing towards a bank of Floos, even some that Harry could see through a door clearly on a break.
"How about we step in here?" she asked, capturing his attention.
He was led into an outer office where Madam Bones paused to ask a woman in her early twenties – Beth, if Harry had to guess – to send a paper plane? to Madam Grimblehawk. From there, they continued into an office that had Madam Bones' name on the door.
"As unexpected as our encounter was," she began, sitting in one of the two chairs on the near side of the desk and offering the other to him, "it does save me an owl."
"Oh?" Harry asked, suddenly wary.
Yes, this was Susan's aunt, but it wasn't the first time that people had wanted to get to him and to use him for something.
"Indeed," she replied, a slight smile appearing on her face. "You did, after all, send me a very interesting letter two months ago."
"Oh, that," Harry replied. "What did you make of it?"
"I thought it made for some very interesting reading and, combined with a number of other pieces of information that I've been able to gather, painted a very interesting picture," she replied.
"I'm glad that I could help," he said.
"You have done more than that, Harry," she replied. "But I'm afraid that I'm going to have to ask for something extra."
"Oh?" he asked again, that feeling of wariness reappearing.
"My job is to enforce the law," she began. "When individuals, no matter who they are, break the law, it is my responsibility to bring them to justice. Unfortunately, there are times when even my hands are tied."
"Political stuff?" Harry guessed, remembering a particularly enlightening conversation that he'd had with Sirius back in Australia.
"That's one way of putting it," she smiled. "But between that little stunt with the Wizengamot that you and Sirius pulled – a masterpiece, I might add, that really shook a few things up – as well as you being back in the country, I think that it might finally be time to act."
"What does me being in England have to do with anything?" he asked.
"In order for me to bring a case before the Wizengamot of this magnitude, I need to make sure that I have a rock-solid case," she said. "Your testimony, given in person, would be key."
Harry stared at her. "You want me to testify against Dumbledore in front of the Wizengamot?"
"Yes," she replied, simply.
For a fleeting moment, he imagined Dumbledore dressed in a black and white striped shirt and pants instead of one of the garish, eye-watering robes that the ancient wizard seemed to prefer. A striped wizard hat was promptly added, making Harry smile.
"I'm listening," he said.
/ ( 0 v 0 ) \
10:20am
Friday, 27 August 1995
Ministry of Magic, London, England
.
Getting to the Department for the Regulation and Monitoring of the Dragons of Great Britain felt a bit like a game of cat and mouse for Harry. He and Madam Bones had firstly gone to the lifts where she had done some sort of spell that told her that there was a person waiting in there, unseen. She'd promptly scowled, sighed and wheeled Harry around and away.
A non-signed, non-descript door had been opened for him to reveal a set of stairs. It had then been a simple case of walking down them to reach Level Four. Once again, Madam Bones had performed a spell and, obviously happy with the results, had ushered him out and down the corridor. She'd only let him go off on his own once he was safely ensconced with Madam Grimblehawk herself.
"Have Mathilda send me a memo when you're ready to leave, Harry and I'll come and escort you personally," Madam Bones had instructed.
"Thanks," Harry replied, while Madam Grimblehawk had given a nod of understanding.
"I understand that you spent an extra few hours at the … at the weyr yesterday after we left?" Madam Grimblehawk asked, pleasing Harry with her use of the proper word.
"I did," he smiled at the memory. "Ramaranth and the others quickly settled in for a sleep after their long flight, so I took the chance to get to know some of the dragons there."
"How are they settling in?" she asked.
"They're still very cautious, extremely wary," he replied before taking a breath to push down his embarrassment, "but I think having me there has helped."
"You have been a Merlin-send," she smiled. "We're learning so much about the dragons from you. And getting to be so close to them yesterday …"
She trailed off with a shake of her head and a smile on her face. Harry understood. He'd seen the same look on the faces of Sirius, Remus, Daphne and her family, anyone who encountered the dragons for the first time and actually understood that while they deserved to be feared and respected, there was no need to be afraid.
"I do envy your ability to be able to talk to them," Madam Grimblehawk said.
"You do?" a startled Harry asked.
Her statement was at extreme odds with the rest of the country, indeed most of the world when it came to parseltongue.
"Oh, very much so," she replied. "When I was first given this post, even back when it was just a Committee, I was determined to do my best for the dragons. But everything that I knew about them came from my Hogwarts Care of Magical Creatures course, which I think consisted of a week or two of classes and what I'd read in books. Being able to meet them was a dream, being able to talk to them or ride on the back of one as you have done was almost too much to imagine for anyone doing."
"It is pretty great," Harry grinned. "I wouldn't change it for anything."
"I know that I still have much to learn about our magnificent creatures," she said. "Perhaps you can help me make sure that they are being cared for the best that we can and that they are given what they need to flourish."
"Of course," he nodded. "It's what I'm here for and what the dragons want from me too. Speaker for Dragons, remember?"
"Exactly," she smiled.
Harry watched as she pulled a fresh piece of parchment to her, laying it beside the one that was filled with copious amounts of notes.
"Harry, you said that the dragons aren't happy with where they can sleep on the island?" Mathilda asked.
Harry shook his head. "Not really."
"What do they prefer?" she asked, picking up a quill and holding it over a piece of parchment, ready to take notes.
"It differs," he shrugged. "The dragons in Romania prefer caves, whereas the dragons in Australia weyr in the hollows of sand dunes, but it is a lot warmer there. From what the Greens and Blacks that have lived around Great Britain tell me, they traditionally found valleys or the tops of hills and mountains that suited them."
"And Papa Stour has none of those things," Mathilda frowned, looking down at her notes. "Do you have any suggestions?'
Harry had been considering the problem since he'd first seen the island; he just wasn't sure if what he'd come up with was even possible. But then he shrugged, he was talking to people who could do magic! If they couldn't find a solution, then no one could!
"I do have one idea," he admitted. "I just need you to tell me if it's possible."
"Go on," she said, looking expectantly at him.
"Rocks. Bring in lots and lots and lots of rocks. The bigger the better and then let the dragons move them around however they want," he suggested.
"Rocks?" she asked doubtfully.
"Yes," he nodded. "If you bring in enough of them, I'm betting that the dragons could build their own weyrs, maybe like nests or even caves. Enough rocks would give them a chance to cut down the winds in winter and shelter from the rain, probably even heat up during the summer, too – I know dragons love lounging in the sun."
"Rocks," Mathilda repeated slowly, writing the word down and underlining it three times. "You think the dragons would be happy with that solution."
Harry shrugged. "I think so? I'd have to ask them to be sure."
"Then please do so," she said. "If they will be, then I'll make it happen!"
Harry grinned at her. She wasn't what he expected a person in charge of a Weyr or a Reserve would be and there was no comparing her to Alexander or Andy, but for Harry, she was the perfect person for the job. The only problem with her was the fact that she wasn't a dragon handler and didn't have a Beast Mastery. But maybe this Weyr needed something different? It was something that he decided merited talking to Charlie about and seeing what he thought of the unconventional idea.
/ ( 0 v 0 ) \
11:10am
Friday, 27 August 1995
12 Grimmauld Place, London, England
.
"Master has received a letter," the raspy voice of Kreacher said.
Sirius looked up from the book that he was reading in the Black Family Library and blinked. A letter? That sounded eminently more interesting than the dry tome detailing a list of Black properties around the world.
"Thank you, Kreacher," he replied, snapping the book closed with a puff of dust.
Taking the letter he opened it, sped read through the contents. Stopped. Blinked at it. And promptly reread it, this time much more slowly.
"Well, well, well," he mused, tapping the parchment on his chin.
His initial reaction was to jump up and to apparate to wherever Remus was and to crow in his face. He'd known that he was right! He knew it!
Of course, the answer all depended on Harry, but … he … had … been … right!
He'd just leapt to his feet and taken a single step towards the door when Kreacher cracked back into the room.
"Another letter, Master," the ancient house elf said, sounding irritated that he'd had to deliver it.
"Another one?" Sirius asked.
Even before Kreacher had vanished, he was ripping it open to scan its contents. He hadn't even gotten halfway through it before he'd thrown his head back and laughed.
This was brilliant! he decided, inwardly crowing in delight.
Oh, there were sacks of gold to be made here. And not just off of Remus.
"Sirius?" the man in question asked, sticking his head into the room. "What's got you in such a good mood?"
The arrival of Kreacher with a third letter prevented him from replying.
"You're not going to believe it, Mooney!" Sirius exclaimed, holding all three letters up and waving them about in the face of his best friend.
"What aren't I going to believe?" Remus asked, attempting to snatch the letters from his hand. "If this is another one of your schemes to get scantily clad witches doing something highly inappropriate …"
"Do I look like a teenager?" Sirius pouted.
"No, but when has that ever stopped you?" Remus retorted.
"You may have a point," Sirius allowed but quickly waved it away. "Here! Read! I was right!"
Remus gave him a dubious look before taking the letters. Sirius watched Moony's eyes darting back and forth, pausing, widening, and starting again, faster this time. Each letter was read quickly before being shuffled to the back to give the next one its time to shine.
"This is amazing!" Remus finally said. "Did you put them up to this?"
"I may have sent a letter to Gambol and Japes months ago, but when I hadn't heard anything back from them, I gave it up as a lost opportunity. For them, at least," he replied.
"And Tewsbury's Books and Publications or The Magical Artiste?" Remus asked.
"Nope, never contacted them before," Sirius replied with a shake of his head. "Mind you, I was thinking of sending an owl to Tewsbury's as soon as Harry had finally caved."
"I told you, Paddy, the more you pushed, the less likely it'd be for him to agree," Remus frowned.
"But this isn't me pushing!" Sirius protested. "They sent those letters on their own!"
"What do you intend to do with them?" Remus asked.
"I'm going to show them to Harry and hope to Merlin that he agrees. You know as well as I do that his confidence levels are still too shaky, that it's only the dragons that have helped him to start believing that he has some worth. Those offers? Seeing that he and his ideas and what he can do independent of the dragons…"
"Not exactly independent," Remus interjected, emphasising two of the letters with a wave.
"Beside the point," Sirius said, waving the thought aside. "He needs this. And you know that it's not just him who will benefit. Yes, he'll make a lot of gold on those deals if he accepts but it'll also help kids, parents, everyone. Knowledge and understanding will explode!"
"You know that I'm not arguing with you," Remus said, "I agree. But will Harry?"
"I hope so, Moony, I really hope so," Sirius said seriously.
