Draco Familiaris
Despite their rather shaky start, Severus found he enjoyed Amelia's company. So much, in fact, that he didn't want their conversation to end. But his stomach was telling him in no uncertain terms that if it didn't get fed it was going to stage a mutiny. It felt like days since he'd eaten toast and scrambled eggs before Apparating from the Three Broomsticks out here and then climbing the rest of the way up to the glen.
He pulled off his rucksack to grab out a honey bar, halting just in time to remember that it was rude eating in front of a lady (or anyone) without offering her some. "You hungry, Amelia? Because I'm starving."
"Same here. And I didn't even hike up here like you did."
"Oh, I didn't walk the whole way here, if that's what you're thinking," he admitted shyly. "I Apparated, than hiked the last five miles. But it's been quite awhile since breakfast." He found his package of honey bars and offered her one. "It's not Grimauld's Gourmet feast or anything, but it'll take the edge off."
"They look wonderful. Homemade, I'll bet."
"Uh, yes. My own recipe." He pulled out a Nymphadora's Spring Water. "Something to drink?"
"Thanks. You're a handy guy to have around, Potions Master," she said, taking the bottle of water.
For some reason that compliment pleased him immensely, probably because he wasn't used to receiving them from attractive females. "It's only honey bars and water."
"Manna from heaven, far as I'm concerned," she said, biting into her snack with relish. "Mmm . . .these are fantastic. You can cook for me anytime, Severus."
He bit back a laugh. "Don't say that too soon, Amelia. That's all I know how to make, unless you count chicken noodle soup."
"Aw, come on, I never knew a Potions Master who wasn't a closet chef with ten secret ingredients to make some fabulous recipes."
"Maybe American Potion Masters are like that, but not me. Oh, I could take a bunch of ingredients and throw them together, but the results would put you in the hospital."
"You really can't cook?" she repeated, astonished.
"No."
"Didn't your mother teach you how to make breakfast?"
"Toast and cereal. We ate out a lot," he laughed. "Can you cook, Miss Amarotti?"
"Ever known an Italian who couldn't?" she demanded, pretending to be insulted. "My grandmother taught me how to make meatballs as well as mend pots with spells when I was five. And none of that cheating with quick-cook spells, either. That was a cardinal sin. Magic's fine for cleaning up, she used to say, but never for cooking—that you did the old-fashioned way. I make a pretty mean lasagna, thanks to her."
"Oh? Someday, I'll see if that's true, signorina."
"That a challenge?" she asked, her little chin thrust out. "All right, Professor, you're on. Dinner's on me tomorrow night. My place, 110 Gryphon Way, 6 o'clock sharp."
"Hey, I was kidding," he held up his hands. "You don't need to prove anything to me."
"Wrong, buster. You aren't getting away that easy. I heard the skeptical note in your voice."
"You imagined it."
"Tsk. Tsk. Never lie to an empath, Sev old boy, you'll lose every time."
"Fine, I'll up the ante, see if you're as good as you claim. Dinner and dessert too."
"Done, and if you lose, I get to give you cooking lessons. It's a crime for a Potions Master to not know how to boil water."
"Now wait a minute. I'm not that dumb," he argued. "I can make soup."
"From scratch? Or do you just pop open a can of Ready-Spell?"
He scowled at her. "What the bloody hell's wrong with Ready-Spell?"
"You'll know the answer once you taste Nonna Amarotti's chicken orzo. Still game?"
"You bet."
"For now, I can supplement our snack a bit." She rolled up her sleeves and clapped her hands twice.
A red and white checkered cloth appeared on the grass. A snap of her fingers had a jug of sweet iced tea and a plate of ham and Swiss sandwiches pop into view, along with two cups and napkins. "Best I could do on short notice."
He was staring at her in amazement. "You don't use a wand to conjure?"
"Nope. American Magical Association prefers gestures to wands, mostly. Claims that wizards who rely too much on magical apparatus get sloppy with casting. Also, you can disarm a wizard with a wand, but the only way to disarm one of us is to break all our fingers."
"I could put a Petrificus Totalus hex on you or a Stunning hex and you'd not be able to wriggle your finger," he pointed out.
"You could try, but I'd counter them with a twitch," Amelia argued, then broke off and sighed. "Look, let's not get into the whole gesture vs. wand debate. That argument's been going on since 1776. I do magic one way and you do it another. Whatever works, right?"
"Right. Results are what matter, not method. Except in potions," he added quickly.
Amelia nodded, then gestured for him to sit down on the picnic blanket.
He hopped off the rock and started to walk towards the blanket, when an enormous shadow fell over them.
Snape froze.
What the bloody hell is that? his mind screamed in panic.
"What's the big idea, Amelia baby?" a bass voice boomed from above them, setting the rocks trembling. "You decided to eat lunch without me?"
Lunch? Severus gulped and looked up . . .to see his worst nightmare hovering over him.
There was a gleaming bronze-scaled dragon above the glen, its wings nearly blocking out the sun. Without conscious thought, Snape whipped out his wand and pointed it at the great beast.
"No, Severus!" Amelia yelled, springing forward. "Put your wand down! This isn't one of your crazy English dragons, this is my friend Fireflash. He's a bronze dragon, a sentient species."
Snape lowered his wand a fraction.
"You tell him, honey," the dragon snorted. "Draco familiaris imperialis. Native to North America, like the quetzalcoatl is to South America. We're the only intelligent dragon species left in the world." His azure eyes narrowed. "Quit pointing that wand at me, wizard, or else we're gonna go a few rounds."
"Sorry," Severus tucked his wand back in his jacket. No way he was going to antagonize something the size of an airplane.
"That's better. I'm much friendlier if you're not waving a wand in my face, threatening to curse me." The big dragon flew higher, gaining altitude. Then he dipped his wings and glided in on an updraft.
For all of his size, he landed lightly, touching down on three talons, perfectly balanced.
"Humph. How's that for a textbook three-point landing, Amelia sweetie?"
"Show off," the American mage reproved, then she flashed the huge lizard a smile that would have melted stone. "Severus Snape, meet Fireflash, my sometimes partner, and my ride over here."
Fireflash lowered his head, his long neck curved into an S-shape. "That's me—Dragon Express." He extended a long-fingered forefoot, the four-foot talons retracted, like a cat's. "Pleased to meet you, Severus. Sorry I scared you. I forgot you Brits aren't used to talking dragons that can eat you."
He smiled toothily at the young wizard, displaying teeth the size of long knives.
Snape, who had started to shake the bronze's foot, blanched and stepped back.
"Only kidding," the bronze chortled. "I don't like human flesh. It doesn't taste like chicken."
Amelia rolled her eyes. "Dragon humor. You're a laugh a minute, Fireflash. Now behave."
"Yes, ma'am," Fireflash said, pretending to look contrite. "Got no sense of humor, that one," he muttered out of the side of his mouth.
Severus grinned shakily and touched the dragon's scaled foot gently. "Nice to meet you too, Fireflash."
"Pleasure." Then the dragon exhaled and blew a misty cloud over Severus. Fireflash's breath smelled oddly minty, not at all what he'd expected dragon breath to smell like. A sudden inspiration struck him.
"You're a vegetarian, aren't you?"
The dragon gave him a sheepish look. "Aw, figured it out, did you? You're a quick one, kid. Actually, I do eat fish, eggs, and the occasional ostrich when I can get one. But otherwise I eat roots, nuts, and sea kelp. The sea kelp are what gives my scales their natural coppery luster."
He tilted his head slightly, so the sun struck his scales, making them blaze a brilliant golden red with bluish highlights.
"Look at him, preening and primping, just like a sixteen-year-old going to the prom," Amelia teased. "Thinks he's Casanova."
"I am Casanova. All the females love me," Fireflash boasted.
"Uh-huh. Keep dreaming, big guy." She reached out to pat him affectionately on the ankle.
Fireflash was larger than most of the dragons Snape had studied or read about. But his body was not bulky, like the Swedish Short Snout, nor spiky like a Hungarian Horntail. The bronze was long and sleek, reminding one of a lazy dozing cougar. His tail was wrapped neatly about his hind feet and it bore a reddish plume on its tip. Small ridges stood up along his back and neck, these acted like solar sails, drawing down sunlight, for bronze dragons drew some nutrients from solar energy and thus spent a large part of their day basking on some mountain top.
Azure eyes, slanted like a cat's, peered intelligently out of a broad forehead that tapered down to a narrow muzzle. The dragon's ears were two upright points, enhancing the resemblance to a feline. Along the side of the face were two frills, these could reflect sunlight at an enemy or cool the dragon if he were hot.
Fireflash's wings, similar to a bat's, were colored a light gold mixed with iridescent blue and green, creating beautiful swirled patterns across the leathery membranes.
He was, as he had said, a most awe-inspiring and beautiful creature. Severus felt as if he were in the presence of a legend, which in fact he was, for all the records at Hogwarts said bronze dragons no longer existed.
"Come on, Sev, sit down and eat. He's already got an ego the size of the United States, keep staring at him like that and it'll double."
Flushing, Severus sank down on the picnic blanket, accepting a cup of iced tea and a sandwich with a thank you from Amelia.
For ten minutes all was silent as they ate. Fireflash tucked his forefeet beneath him and drowsed, his eyes slitting to a thin blue line on his face.
Snape finished the last bite of his sandwich and took a large gulp of tea, feeling pleasantly full. "That was very good. Better than the stuff they serve at the Three Broomsticks."
"Of course it is. That's because my food's not conjured. Vito's Italian Market can beat any spelled sandwich you can name ten to one."
"You're right," he agreed reluctantly. I think I'm going to be sorry I ever made that bet, he thought ruefully. Then he shifted his attention to the recumbent dragon, who had thin streamers of smoke trickling from his nostrils. "He asleep?"
Amelia glanced in Fireflash's direction. "Napping. Bronzes take cat naps, mostly. Especially when they're far from their home territory or den. The only time they sleep deeply is if they're utterly certain they're safe and hidden from enemies."
"What on earth could be a threat to a dragon?" Severus wondered. "He could swallow me whole in two seconds and I wouldn't amount to a bite. So who's left to fear?"
"It's an old habit, made back when his kind were hunted without mercy by every would-be hero and dragonslayer hoping to make a name for himself," she explained. "Fireflash says that once bronze dragons lived all over the world, not just the U. S. They were well respected by the wizarding community. People consulted them on various subjects, because they were known for their wisdom and magical abilities. Occasionally, a bronze even took an apprentice wizard and trained him or her. But all of that was before dragonslaying became vogue and every king in Europe bought into the propaganda the Dragonslayer Guild spouted—that all dragons were cruel evil monsters that ate babies for breakfast, stole princesses and kept them prisoner, and had mounds of treasure which they guarded selfishly."
She sighed and poured herself another cup of tea. "I think it was the gold that made people turn against the dragons so quickly. Greed is a great motivator. The sad thing is that the bronze dragons trusted the wizards to stand by them, and we didn't. Instead we joined right in. Overnight, everybody and his brother wanted a dragonscale shirt or a dragon claw necklace, and suddenly whole product lines were developed that used dragon's blood as a major ingredient.
"There was a potion they made during the Middle Ages that's been banned in America since Columbus discovered us, called Dragon's Breath."
"I've heard of it. It's a restricted item, very difficult to brew, you can't make it without express permission from the Ministry of Magic."
"Do you know the main ingredient?"
"A dragon's heart."
"Yeah. But not just any dragon's heart. Specifically, a bronze dragon's heart." Amelia growled. "They were our friends and allies, the teachers of our children, and how did we repay them? In blood and ashes.
"Thousands of bronze dragons were hunted down and slaughtered to make that vile potion, a potion that was used to give a wizard the ability to breathe fire for a short time.
"It makes me sick to even think about it. Fireflash's grandmother lived during those times and she still remembers the atrocities that were committed. They were betrayed by the wizards they'd helped, who told the dragonslayers where the bronzes laired, and their habits, and how to kill them with dragonbane laced weapons or poisoned meat."
"But surely they fought back?"
"Sure they did, but we outnumbered them fifty to one, and they couldn't reproduce fast enough to replenish their numbers. D'you know how long a dragon lives?"
"Five hundred to a thousand years, I think."
"Yeah, a thousand's the average lifespan of a bronze. And a dragonet's not an adult till he's a century or more old. So when those dragonslaying butchers and their wizard allies killed a bronze dragon, they destroyed centuries of knowledge as well as an intelligent feeling creature. What a damn waste!"
"But not everybody thought it was okay to hunt bronze dragons," Severus pointed out.
"Yeah, but their defenders were few and far between. The best they could do was damage control. That was when the bronzes decided the best solution to the Dragonslaying Guild was to leave Europe and Asia and return to their original home in the United States.
"The New World was vast and mainly wilderness and the Indians who lived there didn't bother the dragons. Some tribes even worshipped them. So the bronzes settled down and raised families again, but they made damn sure they kept the location of their lairs a secret. To this day, no bronze will ever reveal the true location of his lair to any wizard, not even one they trust.
"I've known Fireflash there for over four years and he's saved my life numerous times, but even so he'd never tell me where he lairs. And it's been over five centuries since the Dragon Exodus and the American wizards have lived in peace with them since the founding of Plymouth."
"Dragons have long memories, I guess."
"Can you blame them?"
"No. It's a good thing for us that they don't hold a grudge, else we'd all be crispy critters."
Fireflash snorted loudly, amused. "Now that's what I call a sensible fellow. Better hang on to this one, Amarotti, he's better than the last guy you dated."
Severus shot a sidelong glance at Amelia, who was bright red, though whether with embarrassment or anger, he couldn't tell.
"Flash, when I want an opinion on my love life, I'll ask you. Until then, kindly shut your trap."
"Hmmm . . ." the dragon said, tapping a nail thoughtfully under his chin. "She never gets this riled unless I'm dead on target with my observations. Must be serious." He cast a searching eye at the two young wizards, who were looking everywhere but at each other. "Love at first sight, maybe."
"Shut up, Flash! Mind your own business, wonder wyrm."
"You are my business," the dragon said slyly. "I'm your partner."
"Exactly. My partner, not my mother. Now quit poking your scaly nose where it doesn't belong," she said exasperatedly. "See what I have to put up with? He's worse than a reporter from The Magical Times."
"Hey, if the shoe fits . . ." the dragon began, smirking.
"Swear to Christ, if you don't button it, I'm gonna magic your tongue into a knot," the Dark Hunter threatened, glaring furiously at the big beast.
Fireflash snickered. "Got to watch that Italian temper of hers, kid. It makes her unpredictable."
"I've noticed," Severus remarked, unable to resist.
"Does she scare you then?"
"No. I've got a nasty temper myself sometimes."
"Oh?" the dragon's ears perked up at that. "A match made in heaven. Assuming you don't kill each other during your first argument, that is."
"I'm far more likely to kill you first, Flash. Just on principle, because you annoy me to no end," Amelia put in tartly.
"I've heard that one before. Her bark's worse than her bite," he whispered to Snape.
Amelia shot the loquacious wyrm a look that could have cut glass.
Fireflash merely smiled, a toothy grin that was only mildly scary. "Okay, now simmer down, Amarotti. But one day you're going to see that I was right. As usual." He stretched, arching his back. "Think I'll take another nap. Wake me if it gets interesting."
Then he curled into a ball, tucked his head beneath a wing, and fell asleep, snoring rhythmically.
Severus stared at the sleeping leviathan for a moment, then said softly, "Is he like this all the time?"
"No. Sometimes he's worse. He's the reason I don't date much. He's frightened away every boyfriend I've ever had. I think he does it on purpose."
"I'm not afraid of dragons."
She eyed him speculatively. "That's a first. He can be pretty intimidating when he wants to be, and I'm not just talking about claws and fangs. If he doesn't like you, he can be wickedly insulting."
"I believe you. I just don't think you're the kind of woman who needs a dragon defending her. Seems to me you're perfectly capable of telling a guy when to get lost."
"True. Though some guys have a hard time believing I mean what I say. The old no is yes syndrome. Those are the ones who need a little "encouragement" from my partner."
"Not me. I won't stay where I'm not wanted, dragon or no dragon," he asserted.
"I'll keep that in mind," Amelia chuckled.
Severus decided a change of subject was in order. "Does he breathe fire like the other dragons?"
"Yeah, but he's got other breath weapons too. Bronzes are the most magically talented of all the dragons. He can also breathe a vapor that will knock a man—several men probably—or a dragon out. And that's not all. Since the Exodus, the bronzes have become, um, fanatical about secrecy and they've been using their third breath weapon a lot more than they used to. Fireflash can also spit a cone of amnesiac gas, to make a person forget they ever saw him."
"Now that's real useful with Muggles."
"Or anybody who stumbles upon a bronze's territory. Fireflash and his kind don't like killing for no reason, and the harming of innocents is particularly abhorrent to them. But hurt one of their own or someone they care for . . .well, they're still dragons when all's said and done."
"Any wizard fool enough to challenge a dragon deserves whatever he gets," Snape pointed out. "Ours might not talk, but they can tear you to pieces quick enough, or burn you to a cinder if they're feeling cranky." He shook his head. "That's why I think dragon handlers are insane, either that or they have a death wish."
"Dragon handlers!" Amelia snorted. "I'd like to see them try and handle Fireflash. He'd send them on a one way trip to the moon without a wand."
"Damn straight I would," Fireflash spoke up, not opening his eyes. "No jumped up animal trainer's gonna tell me what to do, by George! And they ought to leave my lesser kindred in peace too, they're not trained seals, they've got their pride, even if they can't vocalize. Only human arrogance assumes otherwise."
"Why can't they talk?" Severus queried. He wished he'd brought a notebook, he could've taken notes on this fascinating subject. Oh well, his memory was excellent.
Fireflash fanned himself with a wing tip before answering. "Brain development. For some reason they never developed higher brain functions, like the need or desire to vocalize with humans. But don't ever make the mistake of thinking they're stupid or "mere animals", young one. They're smarter than dolphins or apes and they resent the way you wizards over here have treated them, stealing their eggs and enslaving them for your tournaments and such. You lost respect for them as an intelligent species, and that's why they're so quick to attack first and ask questions later. They figure anybody who makes a career of capturing dragons and treating them like dumb beasts isn't worth preserving."
"I never knew that," Severus admitted, ashamed. "We were always taught that dragons were nothing more than dangerous predators."
"Dragonslayer Guild propaganda." Fireflash growled. "You European wizards bought that line of bull hook, line, and sinker. Then you added insult to injury by stealing away their eggs and selling them. According to the Guild, dragons were good for only two things—ingredients for a potion or exhibition in a circus. With that kind of attitude, is it any wonder that most dragons saw humans as food and flamed first and asked questions later?"
"Not when you put it that way. I have to tell the Ministry about this. All these years we've been committing genocide," Snape murmured, feeling sick. "Maybe they can pass a law or something."
Fireflash shot the distraught wizard a pitying look. "Kid, they already know all this. It's old news to them. My people told the Head of your Order the truth of our lesser kindred centuries ago. It didn't make a damned bit of difference. The Guild offered gold and all we offered was morality. Guess who won? That was when the Guild pointed the finger at us and said we were too dangerous to exist. It's far easier to kill than to admit you've made a mistake."
"I'll send a letter anyway," Snape snarled, angry past bearing at the Ministry's blindness. "Someone up there should know what you told me. It's not right."
"Tell me about it," the dragon sighed. "I doubt it'll do any good, Snape, but thanks for trying. You've got a good heart, kid." Then he added roguishly, "Even if you are a British wizard. I like you, and I don't say that about just any magician."
"Thank you, sir. You honor me."
Fireflash colored a slight blue-green. "Hey, don't say that too loud. Got a reputation to maintain, y'know." He winked.
"Some reputation," his partner laughed.
"Better than yours. The sight of me alone makes dark wizards tremble."
"We could have used you against Voldemort," Snape muttered, still angry over the Ministry's betrayal. I don't think I'll ever trust them again. Not after this cover up. Does Dumbledore know of it? If not, he should. I'll send him an owl too, just in case.
"Even I've heard of that one," Amelia said darkly. "Wizard version of Hitler, if half the stories I've heard are true."
"He's worse than the rumors. Was worse, I should say, since he's dead now."
"I hadn't heard that. Who killed him?"
"He killed himself, or so they say. Cast Avada Kedavra—the Killing Curse—at a year-old boy named Harry Potter. Somehow the curse was reflected back on him, nobody knows how. But the boy lived and the Dark Lord died." Snape related. "Or at least, that's what the Ministry thinks."
Amelia cocked her head at him. "But you don't think so."
"No. I don't think he's as easily vanquished as all that. He was a powerful wizard, one of the most powerful in the world. He was cunning, cruel, and smart. He wanted a way to cheat death, become immortal. Who knows what blood spells he conjured in the dark of the night, what powers he called upon to get what he desired? He bartered his soul away long ago—if he ever had one to start with. Evil never really dies, you know. It just sleeps, waiting for the next opportunity to rise and cast a shadow."
"I know. No one knows that particular truth better, who has touched evil's mind and listened to his every emotion. Have you ever told anyone else your theory?"
Severus laughed. "Not a chance. They'd think I was out of my head. They want so much to believe he's gone for good, and all the evil he did is dead with him. I want to believe that too, I wish like blazes I could, but I know—I just know—this isn't over yet. We've won a battle, a great victory, but we haven't won the war. This is the calm before the storm."
"I'd have to agree with you. Necromancers like him are notoriously difficult to kill. You can slay their body, but if they know how, they can preserve their spirit and return again. You say no one saw him die? They found no body?"
Snape shook his head. "The only witness to Voldemort's demise was a baby. As far as we know, a body was never found, but if he was alive, he would have continued his campaign of terror. So the Ministry presumed him dead and those followers of his we've captured swear he's dead too, they claim he's marked them and would know if he wasn't."
"And you trust their word?"
"About as far as I could spit. They'd sell out their own mothers if the price is right," Snape sneered, his lip curling in revulsion. "They're only loyal to save their own skin."
"I'm not surprised. Loyalty born of fear never lasts. So you think there's a chance he might come back one day?"
"Yes. And I'm going to be prepared when he does," Snape vowed.
"Could you use a bit of help? If so, I'd be happy to assist."
"Thank you, but I'd never expect you to put yourself in danger because I asked you to," Severus began.
"You're not asking, I volunteered," Amelia stated firmly. "Hunting down dark wizards is my specialty, remember?"
"In the United States," he argued.
"Anywhere, if I so choose. Evil knows no boundaries, therefore neither do I. I took an oath as a Dark Hunter to fight evil wherever I found it. I choose to stand with you, Severus Snape."
"Amelia . . .I-I don't know what to say . . ."
"Just say yes, Potions Master."
"Very well." He smiled at her. "I couldn't ask for a better ally."
"Or a better friend."
"That too."
He reached out a hand and she clasped it. That unnamable something flared between them again, and Severus quivered at her touch, feeling as if he'd made yet another Unbreakable Vow, only this time it was his heart he had bound.