On the Wings of Dragons

by Bobmin356

The Weyr prepares for the step of going public against the backdrop of heightening international tensions and increasingly complex personal issues. And is Britain really secure now that the Ministry has been conquered? Sequel to The Queen Who Fell to Earth. Harry/Hr/OCF

14. Chapter 14

Standard Disclaimer:

Bob walked out onto the stage and faced the audience. He held up a sign which read, "We don't own Harry Potter or the Dragon Riders of Pern."

"What?" screeched Alyx. "You can't do this to me! I had plans! Draco and Snape were going to do a remake of Apollo 13 and get fired into space inside of a giant who who!"

Bob shuddered and slowly lowered the sign. He sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry folks, but I tried to avoid the Who who madness," he said softly, then he walked off the stage.

Alyx eagerly rushed forward. "Picture this," she said, then she started drawing scenes on a white board.

"Harry! What's wrong with Bob?" exclaimed Chekiath.

Harry turned away from looking at the audience who were slowly turning green from Alyx's images. "I think he's about Who who'd out Mate."

"Hey! No talking!" Alyx shouted, then she started to talk about Snape's weightless dance scene.

"Harry, perhaps we should start the chapter?" whispered Chekiath. "Alyx is starting to scare me."

"Me too," replied Harry.

---

Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it's the only thing that ever has.
- Margret Mead

Lee Jordan's quarters, Campbeltown Weyr, April 26th...

Lee slipped from the bed slowly.

"Where are you going?" asked Mariah sleepily.

"Just getting up for the day, Mari. I want to check on that box of supplies Lord Mills sent over yesterday."

"Remember what Doctor Sheppard said. Take it easy," she murmured, then she drifted back to sleep.

Lee smiled at her still form on the bed and marveled at the changes in his life. His Soranth had covered her Buth when she rose for the first time, though they'd slipped into the friends with benefits relationship before that happened. After Buth rose, their relationship had become a bit more committed, but neither knew just how serious they were until Lee had nearly been killed in the shoot out in Diagon alley. After that, Buth had calmly informed Mariah that Soranth had picked her as consort and she was very pleased by that.

When Issac finally released Lee from the Weyr clinic, he was still in a great deal of discomfort. Mariah met him at the door and escorted him to his cottage where, to his surprise, he'd found that she had moved in and gotten one of the wizards to expand the dragon stall for both dragons.

She had been a little fearful of his reaction, but he was personally delighted and just a bit grateful. He was by no means healed completely and even with magic they couldn't make all of the problems go away. His hospital stay, then three extra days in the clinic, left him weak and easily fatigued. Even with Issac visiting him three times a day to check on him, he was glad for her company and happy to have her there.

The only real benefit that Lee could see was that the crisis had allowed them both to examine their feelings and realize they were deeper than they originally thought.

He walked over to the small desk that held his computer and looked at the pile of books and note from Lord Mills. Picking up the note he read;

Lee,

Harry asked me to pick up some items that would make it easier for you. I spoke with the manager of the PM's Public Affairs office and he suggested a wide list of software designed for producing images, newsletters and videos. I have, with Harry's full approval, purchased some of the recommendations and had one of Major Atkins' people install the software on your computer. The books are mostly manuals for the programs and there are two basic books on the media and public relations.

I have also provided you with the email address for the PM's Public Affairs office. They have graciously agreed to either answer any questions you might have or point you in the direction of the answer. I have been told quite specifically that with the date set for the public announcement, it would be in the Weyr's best interests if you were to spend your time putting together a press kit.

I have included a sample kit from the PM's office for you to look at. Call me if you have any questions.

James.

P.S. Issac says you are scheduled to undergo a series of hospital x-rays on May 15th. Assuming the scans show normal, Issac will approve you for Between shortly after that date.

"Cool," Lee murmured, then he placed the note to one side and turned to examine the box of books.

Opening a book that sounded interesting, he started flipping pages. It was nearly an hour later when a hand holding a cup appeared in his vision and he jerked back in surprise.

"Easy, Lee. I'm just offering you some tea," Mariah said softly. "What's got you so engrossed this early?"

He took the cup and handed her the note from James. After she read it her brow furrowed. "A press kit? What's in it?"

Lee shrugged. "I don't know. There's a box at the bottom of all that," he said, waving his hand toward the pile. "I assume that's it. I got sidetracked with this photo editing program."

Mariah smiled seeing him wave the manual for one of the premiere photo editing programs in the world and nodded in understanding. Lee was very artistic by nature and was drawn to anything that could help with that. In fact, she had discovered that he had made a few, very accurate hand drawn nudes of her before they had even gotten together. It angered her at first until she realized he hadn't used magic. It was merely his imagination, his talent and his eye for detail.

Lee's drawings were in great demand in the Weyr. The most popular being one he had drawn of Harry on Chekiath, leading a wing of dragons as they dove on the tanks at Lac Logipi. At least half of the non-bonded dragons had that image hanging on the wall of their stalls, much to Harry's embarrassment.

Lee's forays into computer graphics would have implications that none could have predicted at the time.

Harry's Quarters, Campbeltown Weyr, April 26th...

While Lee and Mariah discussed the start of a totally new office and function in the Weyr, Harry was mulling over a problem of his own making and wondering what to do about it.

May stepped from the bedroom and she smiled spotting, Harry sitting on the couch. He was facing away from her and seemed oblivious to her presence. She took another step then she heard Chekiath rumbling merrily in his stall. She glanced over at the large dragon and wondered what he was laughing at. Another step into the room and she skidded to a halt and looked at Chekiath again. Or more exactly, she looked at his stall.

"Harry?" she whispered.

When he didn't answer she repeated her call again, only louder. "Harry?"

Harry grunted. Like May, he was staring at Chekiath's stall.

"This gives me room to stretch," Chekiath announced.

"I'll say. There's room in there for half the Weyr," May muttered in response to Cheki's comment, then she turned to Harry. "What did you do?"

"I tried to expand the space out to fit three very large Horntails," he replied with a cringe.

She turned back to the stall with wide eyes. Chekiath's stall used to be space enlarged area of roughly forty feet by forty feet. It was large, but not enough to cramp the large dragon who curled up in the spot. The interface between the stall and the main living room was enchanted such that the stall didn't affect the size of the living room. It was one of the more unique features of the spells enlarging the area such that the opening appeared to match the size of the rest of the room. It made the living room a little larger than it actually was, but that was a limitation of the magic involved.

Harry, it seems, didn't know that particular enchantment and he had tried to expand the stall, which now made the living room appear cavernous! The dragon stall area was at least two hundred feet long by sixty feet deep. Add in the normal sized living room, which had expanded to match the one opening in the wall, and you had a room bigger than the Weyr Kitchen Hall.

"Norendrath?"

"Yes, Weyrleader?"

"Is Sirius busy?"

"No, Weyrleader. Smelly Dog and Brown Runner are done shagging for the morning," replied the dragon cheerfully.

Harry turned red and May laughed. He gave her a reproachful look, then turned back in the direction of the dragon, who was sitting on Sirius' cottage a block away. "Would you ask him if he knows of a way to reverse a space enlarging charm?"

"One moment, Weyrleader."

"I guess I should have realized there was more than one enchantment involved," he said ruefully. "I thought it was built into the enlargement charm."

May looked confused at his explanation, but it was clear that Harry was just as equally confused.

"Harry, what have you done?" exclaimed a very sleep tousled Hermione. She stood in the doorway wearing her pajamas, which Harry thought were quite cute. He also thought May looked cute in her pajamas but he wasn't about to bring that topic up now.

"I was applying a space enlargement charm on Cheki's stall so we could fit all three dragons in there," he said with a wince.

"And now I can stretch all the way out," exclaimed Chekiath, who continued to rumble heavily. The large dragon stretched out to his full length as if to prove the point.

"You're not helping, Cheki," Harry muttered. Chekiath only rumbled louder in response, then he moved as the door to the stall opened and Comaloth stepped into the enlarged area.

Hermione's dragon looked at the enlarged space and then turned to Harry. The enlargement charm had not affected Cheki's bed, so the rest of the space was barren.

"It's not finished," she complained with a very Hermione like huff in her voice.

"Don't worry. Harry will fix it," Chekiath proclaimed. "He is a powerful wizard. Dobby says so."

Harry sunk lower into the couch and glared at his dragon sourly.

"Weyrleader?"

"Yes, Norendrath?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Smelly Dog says he doesn't know, but he and Wolf will be right over to help with your problem."

Harry groaned. "Remus. He's going to get on my case about this, I just know it! And Sirius will use this as blackmail material for weeks."

"I still don't understand! We could fit eight dragons in this area. Why is it so large?" complained May.

Hermione shook her head and tried not to laugh, but the look on Harry's face was causing her to giggle. "It's Harry. He over powered the spell. Several elves could make the space this large, or a couple wizards. But Harry's a mage and if he isn't careful about how much power he puts in things," she replied, waving her hand toward the cavernous room. "Well, you see the results." Shaking her head, she turned and raised an eyebrow at Harry, who sunk even lower in the couch.

Hermione summoned her robe and put it on just in time as they could clearly hear a faint echo of someone knocking on the front door. The door, and the small table with phone, was now two hundred feet away instead of being only six feet from the couch.

Hermione waved her wand to open the door, allowing Remus and Sirius to enter.

"Oh, just shoot me now," Harry said, then he threw his arm over his eyes.

The two men slowly approached the couch where Harry sat, pretending he wasn't there. They were obviously examining the large room and bantering among themselves.

Finally, they reached the couch and Harry peeked one eye over his arm to look at them.

"I'm impressed, Harry, but don't you think your wives are going to be upset with you for turning the living room into an indoor Quidditch pitch?" Sirius asked innocently.

Hermione turned away and stifled a laugh, while May looked on and tried very hard to hold in her laughter.

"Hush, Sirius. This is big mage stuff. He might not be done yet, so don't interrupt his concentration," Remus said with a grin. "Besides, this isn't a Quidditch pitch. The ceiling is too low. He must be planning on an indoor ten pin bowling alley."

May lost it at that point and sat heavily in a chair, snickering. Hermione joined her a second later.

Harry pulled his arm down and looked at the four of them, then turned to Cheki. "Mate, you want to take care of this for me?" he asked.

The large dragon rumbled and Comaloth started rumbling right along. "We don't eat friends, Harry, and it's bad manners to eat our consorts' riders," replied the dragon.

"So, this is why you wanted to know about the space enlarging charm?" Remus asked.

Harry looked at his godfather. "Why can't you learn this stuff so I don't need to ask him?"

"Why not just learn it yourself?" Sirius asked. "It's not like you have anything better to do with your time!"

"Ha. Funny. Really funny." Harry then turned to glared at Remus. "You could have warned me about what would happen to a room that's attached to another."

"I could have, but you didn't ask me about that. You asked me to teach you the charm and I was so pleased to see you wanting to know any kind of magic that I completely forgot about the limiters you needed to learn," Remus explained mildly.

"So, this is your fault then?" asked Harry hopefully.

"Nope, this is one hundred percent Harry," Remus replied airily. "If your dad was here he'd be laughing himself silly and your mum would be proud of the size of the enlargement, then scold you for not doing your homework."

"Yeah, and then she'd tell you that size does matter," Sirius added.

Harry grimaced when both girls and Sirius howled in laughter. "Did you have to bring him?" he asked of Remus.

Remus grinned. "Of course. I have to be the straight man for someone," he replied.

Harry crossed his arms and sunk back into the couch glaring at everyone. Some days it just didn't pay to get out of bed!

The city of Gringault, May 1st...

Harry scratched at the back of his head and ran a few figures in his head, then he looked at Polenth. "Are you sure about this? This is a considerable sum of money."

"Our needs are few, Weyrleader, and if the Weyr uses the money to further your plans, then we shall have done our part. We may no longer fly the skies, but we remember what we are."

"Very well. I'll have Karen put half of those funds into a special account for your clan. That way we'll have them on hand should any special needs arise," he replied, then he turned to Ragnok. "It's a shame that goblins are too different from humans. Your people would be ideal to be riders for Polenth's people."

Ragnok leaned back in his chair and smiled tightly. "We might not be able to impress as you humans do, but we have arranged for some of our youth to be trained together with the hatchlings from Polenth's clan. Friendships are forming that Polenth and I think will be strong enough to act like an impression bond. We might not be able to impress a hatchling, but we can form a tight connection nonetheless.

"Harry," Karen said from his side. Albert Ford sat next to Karen, although he had been silent for most of this discussion. He had pointed out to Harry that, since he had been involved with the goblins from the start, perhaps it would be best if he attended the meeting merely as an adviser.

He looked over to her.

"According to the figures provided by Lord Ragnok, even when you count in the fact that Campbeltown will be supplying food herds to augment what the Goblins provide, the amount is substantial. I'm guessing just the reinforcing of existing tunnels here in Britain will net..."

She paused and tapped a few keys on a small calculator that had been provided by the British Ministry. It was shielded so that it could work around magic. The display changed and she gasped, then she looked at Ragnok. "Lord Ragnok, this figure of eleven thousand miles of tunnels in the UK alone, it can't be accurate."

Ragnok chuckled and reached for his glass of chilled Dubog juice. "My dear, you are thinking like a surface dweller. A dragon rider flies where he may and doesn't follow any clear path. A mundane drives his motorcar along a road. The UK has nearly two hundred and fifty thousands of miles of roadways and you're shocked by our eleven thousand miles of tunnels?"

Karen swallowed nervously, "I meant no disrespect, Lord Ragnok. Our tunnels tend to be rather small and quite limited. I was applying what I knew when it obviously wasn't accurate. If I gave offense, I apologize."

Ragnok laughed softly again and he nodded regally from his chair. "No offense was taken, my dear. I find myself enjoying my dealings with the mundanes more than the wizards. While everyone has their prejudices, the mundanes at least are willing to work to overcome theirs. Now, what was your wonderful little device telling you?"

Karen blinked at him for a moment, then she glanced down at the calculator. "Roughly eighty eight thousand pounds just for the reenforcing effort in the UK alone. Other countries have many thousands of miles of more tunnels. Driving new tunnels is worth far more and when you factor in..."

She trailed off when Harry reached out and gently gripped her hand. He was concerned because she was practically hyperventilating. "Easy there. You've sold me. Just record your figures to show James when we get back. I'm sure he'll be excited to see them, as well.

"Polenth, if your clan needs anything, let me know and we'll get it for you. In the meantime, continue as you have been, and encourage your clan to make friends with the goblins. We have several non-bonded dragons who have very close friendships with humans who were too old to impress."

"Thank you, Weyrleader," replied the senior dragon.

Satisfied that the Gringotts Clan of underground dragons was settling nicely, he could now turn his attention to other matters.

"Lord Ragnok, I understand that your tunnel masters have been examining certain Weyrs worldwide. Might I know when we can hear results of their endeavors?" Harry asked.

Ragnok leaned back in his chair and glanced around. With Chekiath, Polenth and Neruth being the only dragons in the square, a number of goblins had gathered to witness their lord deal with the lord of dragons. He even noted a small cluster of children standing near their teacher and he knew that the people were listening.

"I don't have the complete report as yet, Weyrleader, but you were right about Disko Island and Nevado del Huila. Disko has been dealt with, for now. Our master tunnelers have managed to open a channel into the primary magma chamber that is allowing the lava to drain off. Master Tunneler Brusk believes they have put off any eruption for a least a century. And if they intervene again at a later date, maybe longer. There are some experimental techniques they would like to try."

Ragnok's expression turned serious. "Nevado del Huila is a different story. I'm afraid that Weyr is due for an eruption very soon. Our master tunnelers say the magma chamber is too deep to reach even with our spells. We have six months at the earliest, perhaps as much as two years at the latest before the next eruption. With our monitoring spells, we can give you a definite warning, but that warning is limited to only four weeks. When we note the ward triggering, we treat it as an immediate eruption.

"As to the other places, some of them are harder for us to reach. We have sent out teams to survey the dozen you listed. I hope to hear back from them within the month."

As Ragnok spoke, Harry pulled out his list and quickly added a new entry. He grinned sheepishly when he noted Ragnok had stopped speaking and was chuckling softly. From a goblin, it was a chilling sound.

"I'm sorry, Lord Ragnok. I just needed to put a note down to evacuate Nevado del Huila. If I don't write it down...," he trailed off when Ragnok raised a hand.

"It is a good habit to have, Weyrleader," Ragnok said, then he gestured to the goblin sitting behind him, busily scribbling on parchment. "I have a scribe who records my every word. Much to my embarrassment, he had even recorded some fights I have had with my mate."

Harry shuddered at the idea of someone writing down such private moments. There had been moments of pillow talk between him and the two girls that he'd hate to see become known, especially to someone like Sirius.

"One thing I would like to bring up, Weyrleader. Your dragons have proven themselves most useful to us. I have spoken to Polenth about increasing the number of dragons that share our tunnels, but he says he needs your permission. Originally, the bank had roughly three hundred dragons. We feel we have ample room to increase the population to many times that amount," Ragnok said carefully.

Harry nodded and looked thoughtfully at Polenth, the near black senior dragon. It was an unusual color for a Horntail and Harry had noted it was common for the underground dragons. He figured it was a result of the lack of sunlight.

"Polenth, you've been following my directive to limit the egg production?" Harry asked.

"You did not single us out as being different from our flying brethren, Weyrleader. As I once said, you lead us, just as you do the other dragons," Polenth replied with dignity.

"All right then, let's do this. Rather than release your females for unrestricted egg laying, let's see if we can figure out what we want as a maximum population. From there, we can figure out a hatching schedule that will gradually raise the population to that limit over several years," Harry said, then he turned to Ragnok. "I'm not against the idea, my Lord, I just want to make sure that the ability to maintain the dragons productively matches the population, otherwise you'll end up with dragons sitting mostly idle."

Karen smiled to herself. She didn't expect Harry to become an expert in business, but the times she had spent explaining the financial matters of the Weyr had been time well spent.

"Thank you, Weyrleader. More dragons will make things easier," replied Polenth.

Baju, Azerbaijan, Former Soviet Block State, May 4th...

"Come!"

The door opened and Janus walked into the dingy room.

Jin Tan Mu stared sourly at the man. "Well?"

Janus smiled broadly. "I have spoken with a friend in Russian Navy. He knows where we can put our hands on a boat big enough for a hundred, maybe a hundred and twenty men."

Mu scowled. "We don't have that many men," he snapped.

"Ah, but we can get them. Men are always available for US Dollars," Janus replied, then he gestured to the large trunk sitting off to one side. Janus had seen the money and had thought briefly about killing the Chinese man for it, but he had also seen that Mu was an expert martial artist. He was not someone he wanted to tangle with.

The case contained millions of counterfeit US Dollars. Mu knew that if he paid his mercenaries with that money and they discovered it, they would come after him.

"My friend," Janus said jovially, "I have looked at the area you want us to attack. You and I both know that most won't return from this mission. They'll spend your money on cheap vodka and cheaper whores. If you offer two thousand US Dollars each, I can get you forty, maybe fifty more men. Maybe not as good as Spetznaz, but they know which end of gun to point.

"My boys can cover the exit. The rest would be..." Janus trailed off and smiled knowingly.

Mu nodded in understanding. The rest would be expendable. "I can obtain the weapons. How soon can you obtain these additional men?"

He already had forty former commandos at his disposal, but more men would increase the chances of setting the Imperialists back years in their disgusting efforts.

"Two weeks, and then we'd need some time to train them up and move them near St. Petersburg where my friend can get us a ship," Janus replied.

A month or more, mused Mu. It can't be helped. Attacking Campbeltown with poorly trained men would be suicide.

"More men would be a help. We'll do it as you suggest, but I will come and join in the training. I want us ready to go before July," Mu replied.

Janus smiled. "Of course, of course! We can use your help with the training."

Office of the Director, DMLE, Ministry of Magic, May 5th...

"Kingsley do you have a moment?" asked Stokes.

Kingsley looked up from his desk, grateful for the interruption. "Anything to avoid reading another memo about budget costs! What can I do for you, Ben?"

"You know that Weasley was called to another meeting last night?" asked Benjamin Stokes. He was a senior Inspector of CID and Kingsley's counterpart. His chief task, until recently, had been to see that the returning aurors were trained in proper police procedures. With that task running on its own, he was finally able to turn to his preferred field of investigative crime and running the undercover operations of the DMLE, while Kingsley ran the uniformed aurors.

"I heard that. He sent us an email last night before he left the building," Kingsley replied.

Stokes nodded. "Yes, and he should have sent a message via owl when it was over, but that message never came. I checked with his office. He hasn't shown up for work this morning and no one, not even his father, knows where he is."

Kingsley frowned, stood from behind his desk and walked over to a cabinet against one wall. Opening it, he withdrew a small spinning object, which was puffing black smoke.

"Albus Dumbledore taught me how to make this. It's keyed into Weasley using a bit of his blood and tells me he's still alive, but in bad shape," Kingsley said unhappily.

"Does it say where?" pressed Stokes.

"Unfortunately, no, it doesn't, but he does drink a monthly tracer potion. Assuming he had his May 1st dosage, we have the rest of the month to find him before it wears off."

Ben nodded and walked over to his desk. He flipped through several pages on a clipboard, then he looked up. "One of our other informers told us that Carlos was planning a big shakeup in his organization. You don't suppose Weasley has fallen victim to that?" he asked worriedly.

Kingsley shook his head. "I hope not. Carlos the Gerbil isn't known for leaving many people still breathing after he's done with them. I better tell our uniformed officers to start casting the tracer spell," he said, then he walked towards the door. The tracer potion was very limited in range, so it would have to be cast many times by the Aurors in the hopes of getting a response.

"I'll alert our undercover people and see if they can squeeze some information from their informers," Stokes said. "But what about his father?"

Kingsley paused mid-stride and his shoulders slumped. "Let's give it a few days of searching. I know Arthur very well and I would hate to have to tell him his son lost his life volunteering for a dangerous spy mission for the DMLE."

"Your thingy is still puffing out smoke," Stokes pointed out.

Kingsley nodded. "Yeah, but for how long?" he asked.

Stokes grunted in reply. There really wasn't anything he could say to that.

Campbeltown Weyr, May 10th...

"Hi, are you busy?"

Harry looked up to see Sirius and Katherine standing in his office doorway, then he glanced down at the open textbook on his desk and a pile of notes. He sighed and stood. "I could use a break," he said. "My brain is about to turn to mush. I was fine reading about the historical conferences and watching the tapes, but Albert Ford and Lewis Franklin want me to delve deeper into things. They gave me a book on reading body language and psychology."

Harry shook his head. He'd get it eventually, but right now he wasn't sure how he was supposed to interpret the difference between someone scratching an itch and someone being nervous and unsure of their position. Sometimes an itch was just an itch!

He turned to the pair. "So, what's up?"

"Well, we thought you'd like your first driving lesson," Katherine offered. "I have May and Hermione outside in a land rover waiting for us."

Harry immediately perked up at the unexpected and welcome diversion. "Sure!"

Katherine held up a hand to stop him. "Lord Mills is handling the permits. You're still fifteen and the girls are sixteen. That means you're limited to driving at the Weyr only, for now. And I'll personally break..."

Chekiath lifted his head to look at Katherine and a small puff of smoke drifted up from his fist sized nostrils.

Katherine paled. "Erm, I'll be very disappointed in you," she said, trailing off weakly, then she noted Sirius smirking at her, so she turned and glared at him until he flinched and looked away.

"You don't need to drive one of those noisy machines, Harry. You have me," Chekiath said.

Harry glanced at his dragon, then turned to the others. "I think he's jealous," he said softly, then he turned back to Chekiath. "I'll rarely drive a car Cheki, but it is a skill that most people are expected to learn. Besides, it would be nice to be able to drive to the science buildings when its raining. This way you wouldn't have to go outside."

"I still don't like it," Chekiath replied. "A car can't go Between. I can."

"I don't like it either," Comaloth added, "but Hermione's egg mother has fond memories of something called a back seat that has Hermione interested. If it's really that important, I suppose I could tear one out of a car for her."

Harry smirked to himself. Even inside his office he could hear Hermione's shout of embarrassed outrage. Sirius was chuckling to himself and he looked at Katherine.

"Back seat?" he asked.

"I'll explain later," she replied, blushing slightly, while recalling her own teen encounters in the back seat.

"So? Are we ready?" asked Harry, had who missed the byplay between the two adults.

Harry followed the pair outside where May, Hermione and two other dragons waited. The dragons seemed particularly unhappy with what was happening.

Seeing the military land rover, Harry arched an eyebrow and looked at Katherine, who smiled tightly.

"It's not a tank, but it is better built than the pickup trucks we have here. Also, this is a standard stick. It's better that you learn on a stick before going to an automatic."

Katherine turned to face the three teens and she looked at them seriously. "Driving a car is a big responsibility. There are laws that you must obey for your safety, as well as the safety of others on the road. You must always be aware of where you are and where other cars are in relation to you."

Sirius stood behind Katherine pantomiming. Katherine watched the three teens for a moment, then she quickly spun around and grabbed him by his shirt. With a deft flip Sirius was on the ground looking up at her and blinking stupidly.

"Pay attention, Sirius. This is as much for your benefit as it is for theirs. I'm not going to drive you around for the rest of our lives," Katherine said.

"Point to Katherine," muttered May.

"I'll say. I wonder if she'll teach us to do that too?" Hermione added.

Harry turned to stare at the two girls and swallowed nervously, then something Katherine said penetrated the spike of worry Hermione had created. "Erm, excuse me? Is there something about your relationship that you'd like to share?"

Sirius stood and wrapped one arm around Katherine's waist, pulling her closer. "Sharing is something you do, Harry. We're into a more adult commitment," he said pompously.

Katherine and the two girl broke out into giggles. "Really, Sirius? Then explain your fondness for sock puppets in bed," Katherine replied.

Satisfied that she had won yet another round in their eternal game of one-upsmanship, she opened the door to the driver's side of the Land Rover. "Now, pay attention. I know May and Hermione know most of these controls, but I'll go over them so everyone is clear on the topic."

The others gathered closer while Katherine sat in the driver's seat and started to point out the many controls and what they did.

As she spoke, Chekiath decided to join them. The land rover suddenly lurched violently and there were four sharp bangs. Harry looked up at his dragon, who now looked down at the flattened wheels. "There's not a lot of room up here for me to be comfortable," the dragon observed. His back was arched high in the air so that he could get all four feet onto the roof of the car.

"Cheki," Harry said with a groan.

Sirius doubled over laughing and Katherine slowly climbed out of the rover and she looked up at the dragon, glaring at him.

"I'm sorry," Chekiath said. "I didn't think it would do that."

"You did that on purpose!" Katherine said.

Harry looked sharply at Katherine and then turned to his dragon. "Cheki?"

"He could have been light as a feather or he could have crushed the rover," Katherine said, throwing her hands up in the air. "That means he deliberately controlled his weight."

"It was amusing," Trath offered.

Katherine groaned. "How am I going to write this up. Four exploded tires due to jealous dragons?" she demanded. "The supply sergeant at the motor pool is going to buck this up to his boss!"

"We're not jealous," Comaloth said, correcting her. "We just don't like these smelly boxes on wheels. They are dangerous. If you're going to teach them use such a thing, then at least use one of those big boxes that we can ride on too."

"Big... oh! Lorries," May said with a giggle. "Trath, I promise we'll try to learn how to drive a lorry, but first we need to learn and practice on the small cars."

Trath shimmered into view. She was sitting on the roof of the administration building. "So you need to learn on something smaller first? Like learning to shag before learning to lay eggs?"

Sirius barked another laugh and all three teens colored.

"Something like that," muttered Katherine.

Ministry of Magic, DMLE, May 12th...

"Kingsley?"

Kingsley looked up from his desk. "Arthur! Do come in!"

Arthur Weasley looked terrible. His robe was rumpled as if he had been sleeping, badly, in his office. He had been informed about his son being missing, and had finally been informed of what his son had been doing for the Ministry.

On the first day of the news he had gone home to inform Molly. Since then, he had been spending his nights in his office, not wanting to be far away when news came of his son.

"Tell me you have good news, Kingsley?" pleaded the balding red head.

"A little Arthur. In cases like this, we usually never have good news. But along with the good news, there is also bad news," Kingsley replied heavily, then he motioned to a chair. "Please have a seat."

Arthur sat nervously on the edge of the chair.

"As we told you, Percy approached us months ago with information that he had been asked to join an anti-ministry group. He offered to provide information about the group for us in exchange for protection if he needed it, and for our endorsement when he was done. I think we both know that your son's standing in the new Ministry was less than stellar and it was only with your intervention that he found a position with the ministry."

Arthur nodded. He knew Percy was rather unpopular with his fellow workers and held with suspicion by many of the department managers. An endorsement from the Director of the MLE would go a long way in helping his son reestablish his career in the Ministry.

"My counterpart, Benjamin Stokes, implemented a few special changes that have allowed us to better help our undercover operatives like Percy. When Percy turned up missing, we immediately began searching for him. Fortunately for us, Percy is a rather meticulous individual, so when we gave him a supply of tracer potion, he took his like clock work."

"Our other informants told us that the man running Percy's group was testing loyalties. Last night we managed to locate Percy, alive, but only barely."

Arthur surged to his feet. "What? Where? Where is he?"

Kingsley held up a hand. "Wait a moment, please, Arthur, and understand what I'm trying to tell you. Your son was buried in a coffin. Were it not for a blood monitor that monitors his life signs, the healers would have declared him dead. He's been dosed with a draught of living death and then ennervated. You know what that does to a person."

Arthur sank back into the chair and for a moment the world seemed to spin around him. Kingsley watched him in alarm as the man paled until he was white as a ghost. He was about ready to summon the department healer.

"What can be done?" Arthur breathed.

Unlike most victims of the draught of living death, with Percy being awake and virtually locked in his own mind, he risked insanity if he couldn't find something to grab hold of and concentrate on. It didn't take long for the mind of such a victim to start hallucinating until it reached a point where it couldn't tell reality from fantasy.

"The counter potion for the draught of living death will take a week to create. In the meantime, I have asked Albus Dumbledore to visit Percy and try to perform a legilimency spell. If he can reach Percy, he can make it known that we understand his condition and are working to cure him. If Albus can reach him and make him understand, then we just have to keep him focused while the healers are working on the cure.

"I can assure you, Arthur, I am bringing all our resources to bear on this. This morning we raided the building where we thought we could find Carlos, but he had already vacated the place and no one know where he's hiding now," Kingsley added. He watched Arthur nod mutely. The man had taken a severe shock and now all he could do was try to get through it.

"Arthur, why don't you go home and talk to your wife. It would be a big help if someone Percy is comfortable with could spend some time with him. Right now, he's in a secured room at St. Mungo's with an auror guard for his protection. I've instructed the guard to allow family members access. Just go to the spell damage ward and they'll point you to his room," Kingsley said gently. "If Albus can reach Percy with his spell, then your son is going to need his family very much to stave off the madness."

The door opened and Albus walked in looking very serious. He took in the scene with Kingsley's grim expression and Arthur's pale, trembling form and knew instantly that Kingsley had told him the bad news.

"Arthur, I have spoken to Minister O'Hearny and he expects you to attend to your son. The government knows of his efforts and wants you to be with him," Albus said, "Go home and break the news to Molly. Let her know that as bad as this is, it could have been so much worse. I will meet up with you at the hospital in a few hours."

Albus stepped closer to Arthur and gripped his shoulder tightly with his hand. "Go, Arthur. Your family need you."

Arthur stood shakily and nodded. "Yes, yes, I'll talk to Molly. She's been beside herself with worry since Percy vanished. Maybe I'll call Minerva and ask for the others to come home as well," he rambled.

"I'm sure Minerva would be willing to allow that," Albus replied.

The badly shaken man nodded again and walked from the room.

Once he was gone, Albus turned to Shacklebolt. "How bad is this?"

Shacklebolt leaned back in his chair and rubbed a hand over his bald head. "It's not good, Albus. We had been hearing rumors about Carlos and his group planning a major move. Percy was our only inside source who was high enough up to have learned about it. Even if we cure Percy, he can't go back to working for Carlos again. He's been outed as a spy and someone decided to use him as an example."

Albus nodded. "Yes, it is a particularly brutal message they are sending. Percy is a resilient lad. I'm sure I'll be able to convince him that we do know he's alive and he's not hallucinating. If I know Molly, she'll sit by his bed until she collapses, reading anything she can get her hands on just to keep him focused."

Shacklebolt smiled at the image. He could easily imagine Molly doing that. "She won't be the only one. After I explained to our people what Percy was doing, they all want to help. As far as my aurors are concerned, he's one of ours now and we'll be there to help. In the meantime, we have a countrywide alert out for Carlos and his people. We missed him at his old place, but we didn't try until after we realized that Percy was missing."

"Still, Kingsley, your people are to be commended. You knew he was alive and in trouble and found him fairly quickly," Albus said softly. "The Minister wanted me to point that out to you and to give you his personal thanks. You and your counterpart have totally turned around the old DMLE and made it effective again."

Kingsley darkened and nodded, embarrassed by the praise. "Thank you, sir," he said quietly.

Albus smiled. "I best be off. I think I would like some quiet time with young Percy before his mother shows up."

Shacklebolt chuckled and gave the man a wave, then he turned back to the papers on his desk. It was all the information they knew about Carlos and his organization and he was certain that somewhere in the mess of apparently unrelated facts was the key to finding Carlos and bringing him down.

St. Mungo's High Security Ward, May 12th...

Albus looked down at the form lying on the bed and shuddered slightly. The man's eyes were open, and for all he knew, Percy could see him. It was known that victims in his condition could hear, which was why the most common treatment was to talk to the patient until the counter potion could be brewed.

"It is a shame that potion is so finicky, Percy," he muttered. He bent over and locked his gaze on Percy. "Legilimens."

Albus seemed to drop into darkness. The drop seemed endless and then ended abruptly. He grimaced in pain. Even in someone's mind, pain was still pain and his knees did not appreciate being dropped from a height.

It was equally dark in all directions, leaving him with no visible reference, but a moaning sound could be heard coming from over this left shoulder. Turning towards the sound, the old mage shuffled forward with outstretched arms.

It seemed that he walked for several miles before the sound became louder. "Percy!" he shouted into the darkness.

The sound stopped for a moment, then started again.

Heartened, he shouted again. "Percy! Percy Weasley!"

The moaning stopped. "Is someone there? Why can't I see you?" asked a tremulous voice.

Albus smiled slightly. Percy was still in dire danger of losing his sanity, but it hadn't happened yet. Perhaps they'd been lucky and had found him in time, or perhaps young Percy was made of stronger stuff than anyone suspected. He wouldn't discount it. It wouldn't be the first time someone underestimated a Weasley and was surprised.

"Percy, it's Albus Dumbledore. Keep talking. I am trying to find you in this darkness. Then we have much to discuss."

"Headmaster Dumbledore? Where is this place? Where is everyone?"

Albus paused and replied to Percy, then he quickly took off in the direction of his voice. He would repeat that process several times before he nearly stumbled over him lying prone on the dark floor.

Percy sat up and gripped Albus' hand in a death grip, then he wept in relief. "I kept hearing people but when I shouted no one replied. I thought I was dead or something."

Albus pulled the young man to his feet and gently pat his back. "I know, my boy. It's a terrible thing that has happened, but there is hope. You have been hearing the voices right?"

"Yes, sir," Percy replied, then he sniffed.

"Good, good. Listen to me carefully, Percy. Someone has done something very cruel to you, but we can fix it. I'm not really here at the moment. Not physically. I am using mind magic to communicate with your mind. It will take six days to make the potion that will free you from this prison your mind has been forced into. You need to be very strong and listen to the voices.

"Your family has been called to your side. They will be spending the next week talking to you, reading to you, playing the wireless for you, doing everything they can to give you an anchor so that you retain your sanity."

"A week?" Percy said faintly.

Albus nodded, then frowned. In the blackness, Percy would not see him nod. "Yes, a week dear boy. But you can be cured. Hold onto that thought and hold onto the voices of your family. They will be your anchor."

"You won't stay with me?"

Albus couldn't stop the tears that slid down his own face. "I wish I could, dear boy. But even I cannot keep this spell going for that length of time."

Percy straightened and squared his shoulders. "A week isn't too bad," he murmured. "Will you take a message to my parents? Tell them..." He choked up for a second then he continued. "Tell them I'm sorry to worry them, but I was doing what I thought was right."

Albus pat his shoulder gently. He could feel his spell starting to waiver. "You'll be able to tell them yourself, lad. Stay strong. You're a fine example of a true Gryffindor."

Albus felt a wave of exhaustion sweep over him and suddenly he found himself slipping away from Percy. He was back in the hospital room and a pair of arms slid until his armpits and pulled him to a chair.

"Molly, get a healer or a medi-witch," Arthur snapped.

"I'm fine, Arthur. Wait, Molly," he panted. "Just give an old man a moment. Reaching out to young Percy and explaining his situation took more out of me than I thought it would."

The two Weasleys watched Albus for a moment, then he smiled. "Your son is made of sterner stuff than anyone knew. I feared that I would be telling you that your son had already lost his sanity, but he is holding on and now he understands. I explained his situation to him and he knows people are working on a cure."

"You spoke to him," Molly asked, "Oh, Arthur. He must be so frightened." She wrung her hands and stared at the still form on the bed.

"I did and he knows you'll be speaking with him. He knows that his family will be the anchor he will cling to. He misses you deeply and is sorry for worrying you," Albus replied.

Molly's eyes filled with tears and Arthur took her into his arms, then he turned to face the bed. "Percy," he said in a loud voice, "your mother and I are very proud of you and what you were doing. Hold on there, son. Someone from the family will be with you every minute that you have to wait."

He turned to look at Albus. "I spoke with Minerva and she'll be escorting Ginny, Ron and the twins here in the morning. She's excused them from classes."

Albus nodded and slowly stood. He was seriously tired and wanted nothing more than a chance to lay down. "I will leave you now. I wish I could stay but..."

Molly broke from her husband's embrace and gave Albus a gentle, tearful hug. "Thank you, Albus. From all of us."

He nodded and pat her on the arm, then he walked tiredly from the room.

Arthur watched the man leave and frowned. He couldn't recall ever seeing Dumbledore look so old and tired before.

Molly sat in the chair next to Percy and pulled out a book. "You're a little old for 'Babbitty Rabbitty and her Cackling Stump', but I do remember a book you read many times from your great Uncle's collection," Molly said with a slight smile.

"Moby Dick, chapter one," she said, then she paused and tapped the book with her wand. It opened to the correct spot and floated in front of her. Arthur settled into a seat next to her and placed his hand over hers.

"Call me Ishmael. Some years ago- never mind how long precisely- having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world..."

Percy lay motionless in the bed, confined within his mind and yet once again he was sailing the seas with Captain Ahab, thanks to Molly Weasley and Herman Melville.

North Fambridge, Essex, England, May 13th...

To the ordinary muggle, the building appeared to be a ruin that was at least one hundred years old. To a magical, it was hidden entirely behind an unplottable ward and had been hidden for the past three hundred years. No one knew it existed, except for the members of Anna's family, and she was the only living member left.

No one knew of it's existence until Anna broke a promise she had made to her grandmother on her deathbed. She and Carlos had moved into the home on May 8th when word came via his network informing him that the British had issued a capture or kill order on him.

At first, Carlos had been extremely dubious about the building when Anna took him there using a family portkey. Even to his jaded eye it looked like little more than a ramshackle hut. To his surprise, the interior was huge and better appointed than the suite he had occupied in Knockturn Alley.

Warmly decorated, the interior was different than what the exterior suggested. Anna shrugged and told him her family had been living there and running their business from the location for the past four hundred years.

"What did your family do?" exclaimed Carlos.

"A little of this, a little of that," she replied, idly brushing some dust from a lamp shade.

"Anna," he said warningly.

She shrugged. "My family has a colorful past, Carlos. If it's illegal, they've done it. Gun running, slavery, kidnapping, contract killing, fencing. My grandmother ran one of the largest brothels this side of London." she replied with a proud smile. "I even have several great great grandfathers who made their fortunes racking up a higher kill count than you as privateers. We've never been a magically powerful family, but it only takes a little magic to really succeed at muggle or wizard crime."

Carlos sat in a chair he found comfortable in the sitting room and looked out the window. This wasn't the first time a law enforcement agency was out for his blood and he was certain it wouldn't be the last.

He glanced down at the charmed book in his lap and reread the entry carefully again, then he shook his head.

"Carlos, since we arrived here, you've been looking at that book. What is so important about it?" Anna asked. She placed a tray of drinks on the table between them and took a seat on the sofa.

He caressed the spine of the book for a moment, then he held it up. He wouldn't explain it to her, but the simple gesture nullified the lethal hex on the book. "This, my dear, is how I pass orders to Alberto and he passes information back to me. He has a book just like this one and what he writes in that book, also appears here, just as what I write appears in his book."

Anna blinked in surprise. "Alberto can write and read?" she exclaimed. The man was a huge, solid muscle from head to toe and gave the distinct impression of having his skull filled with mostly bone.

Carlos smiled. "Alberto is smarter that many realize. Very early on he learned that people underestimated him due to his appearance. It might surprise you to know he holds a mastery in charms, which he uses as part of his private entertainment.

Anna shivered slightly. Alberto was a sadist of the highest order who reveled in pushing people to the limits of their endurance for pain. He tortured Percy for a full day before shoving the draught of living death down his throat. Anna didn't like the implications of someone masking their true abilities like Alberto did.

"So, what does Alberto have to say," she asked, gesturing towards the book.

Carlos dropped his gaze and considered the book in his lap for a moment. "It seems that our spy might have been more important than we originally expected. I was certain he was just a little informant, dropping a few secrets here and there, but the response to our treatment of him suggests otherwise. In short, we have kicked over a hornets nest and they aren't happy about it. Alberto and half of our network are in hiding."

"And the other half?" Anna asked warily.

"Some might be hiding, unable to contact their cell leadership, but I fear we lost quite a few. Fortunately, only no one higher up than our little informant," Carlos said with a touch of anger.

Anna reached for her tea and added a little bit of fortifier from the whiskey decanter, then she sipped thoughtfully. "How does this affect our plans?"

Carlos scowled. "It's not good. We lost some of our best muscle in kicking this hornets nest. If we kick it again, we need to be prepared to flee the country," he said, then he paused for a moment. "Perhaps that is a better idea, anyway. We go forward with our plans and, once they're in motion, we escape to France. We can lay low and rebuild our network."

"If that's the plan then we'll need to make a change to it," Anna said firmly.

He turned a hard gaze on her. "Oh?"

"Let Alberto or one of the others lead the attack. You are too important to risk," she said, refusing to back down.

Carlos contemplated that statement. Alberto would certainly enjoy being able to vent, he mused. These past months of skulking have rattled him, He prefers a quick kill of an assassination, rather than trying to ferment a revolt. I can easily send him on his way and know he'll be his usual efficient self and other than me, no one else that's left is as good in a fight.

But what about Anna? Do I bring her with me or dispose of her?

Carlos smiled and nodded at Anna. "I will consider your suggestion, my dear. It does have some merit," he said smoothly.

Carlos the Gerbil was not known for leaving loose ends, and Anna was definitely a loose end. The question for him now was whether she was worth saving.

Anna smiled, but already the gears were turning in her head. She recognized the signs. The ship wasn't sinking, but it was heading into dangerous waters and then it would be every woman for herself.

Campbeltown Weyr, May 15th...

Harry closed the book, then turned back to his computer and typed the last paragraph to the paper. Satisfied, he sent a copy of the file to Lewis Franklin and a second copy to Albert Ford. Franklin was officially tutoring Harry on diplomacy and politics, while Ford had been hired as the Weyr's official negotiator. Harry had also asked Ford to double check his work with Franklin and he had agreed.

He stood, then stretched. He had spent his morning working on Weyr projects before switching to his studies in the afternoon and now he was knackered from the effort. It was a weekend and most of the Weyr were relaxing or working on minor things and just generally taking it easy.

"I've been sitting too long," he muttered.

"You have," agreed Chekiath, "but you're done for the day now, yes?"

Harry glanced up towards the roof where he knew Cheki was sunning himself. "Yes, I'm done now. I needed to get that report done for Lewis."

"Good, then we can take our walk," Chekiath announced.

Harry exited the administration building and Chekiath flew down from the roof and joined him. The pair walked across the taxiway and headed in the direction of the science complex. Construction of the complex was largely complete. Now people were involved in their projects or involved in the installation of the power station. That wouldn't be fully complete for a few more weeks.

"Harry, I've been thinking about something," Chekiath said.

"Oh? What about, mate?"

"Do you remember when the Lady Holder said it was hard to separate a rider from their dragon?"

Harry smiled at the memory of Her Majesty's visit to the Weyr. "I remember," he replied.

"Well, you see, if it's hard to separate a rider from a dragon, then aren't a couple like Ronan and Karen also illegal? It does involve two dragons, so four people are involved."

Harry stopped and turned to stare at the dragon. What Chekiath was suggesting was central to the heart of the Weyr. Ronan and Karen were a couple, and Garanoth had taken Neruth as consort. What Chekiath was saying was a simple statement - the Weyr would never have relationships that involved just two people. He didn't know why he didn't realize it before. He had been telling everyone for months to consider the dragons as funny looking people. Now Chekiath was saying that even Ronan and Karen involved two other people - their dragons.

"Oh, wow," he muttered. Legally, British law might not see it that way, but the Weyr would. "I never really looked at it that way, but you're right, Cheki."

"So what do we do about it?"

"I'm not sure. I mean, there's not a lot that can be done when you think about it. We can't make the world change their laws just to suit us."

"Maybe you should ask Sirius to find you one of those druid persons?" Chekiath offered.

Harry smiled. "After the Weyr goes public, mate. We have too much on our plate as it is."

"All right."

The pair walked along for a few more minutes in silence and then Cheki said, "Look, there's Shiny Healer and his family."

Harry paused and glanced over where Cheki indicated. He smiled at the sight. Issac Sheppard had moved his family into the Weyr. His name came from the fact that the sunlight reflected off his large bald spot. Although a wizard and a muggle trained physician, his wife was a muggle and his little daughter was definitely a witch with a surprising amount of control over her accidental magic and a fondness for coloring charms.

It didn't help that Sirius was very taken with the budding prankster and had carefully coached her until she could pick the color she wanted.

Harry had been oblivious to all this until one day he work up to find his house and all the houses on his block had been changed to a wonderfully bright neon blue. Just looking out his window gave him a headache.

Issac spotted Harry and Chekiath nearby and waved to them, so Harry changed course and walked over to where he stood with his wife Margret and his daughter Frances.

"Hello, Issac. Out for a walk too?" he asked.

Chekiath moved around him and craned his long neck until his head was right in front of Frances. The little girl giggled and started to scratch Cheki's eye ridges to the dragon's intense pleasure.

Issac glanced at the sky. "It is a nice day for it. Come the summer, you'll not want to be out here in the heat."

Harry nodded and turned to little Frances. "How are you today, Frances?"

The little girl insisted that everyone call her Frances. Even her parents had dropped the more familiar Frannie a year ago when she suddenly announced only little girls would be called Frannie. In a way, it reminded Harry very much of Hermione, who would throttle anyone trying to shorten her name or saddle her with a nickname. Harry knew that Comaloth sometimes called her Mione, but no one else could get away with it, not even Harry.

"I'm fine, Harry," she replied with a big smile, then Chekiath pushed against her hand and she turned back to the more important job of scratching Chekiath. "You are very itchy today, Cheki," she scolded the huge dragon. "Have you let Sirius use his itching powder on you?"

"I don't think so. I just like it when you scratch my eye ridges," Chekiath replied seriously.

Harry made a mental note to stay away from Sirius, then he glanced over to Margret Sheppard and frowned slightly. "I keep telling myself that I should speak to you, Mrs. Sheppard."

The tall woman blinked in surprise. "Oh? What about?"

"You're a barrister, right?"

"Yes, that's right. Why?"

Harry scratched at the back of his neck. "Karen was telling me the other day that we should consider hiring a company to handle any legal issues. She says that after we go public there's going to be an intense interest in the Weyr and dragons. And it's not just Campbeltown. Each Weyr we set up is going to need some sort of legal help, and that needs to be coordinated from here."

"Harry," Margret said softly, "I'm only a junior associate of my firm. I'm not even a partner. I can't make those kind of decisions. And I work mostly in family law. You'd need someone with contract law, and government regulations and a whole host of other things."

Harry nodded. "I figured that out already. However, you've been cleared to know about the Weyr. You could be the one coordinating things for us with your firm handling most of the work, at least here in the UK. All I'm asking is that you think about it. Karen is practically having kittens because she knows the very next day after the Prime Minister announces our existence we're going to be swamped. Don't make your decision right away. Talk to Karen and Lord Mills. They've been bugging me about the Weyr needing this and you're the only person I know that's involved in law."

When Margret nodded slowly, Issac laughed, then shook his head. "You did say that you wanted to take advantage of the free housing we have here. Now you know what the price is going to be."

Margret smiled at him. Harry was offering her a ticket to senior partnership in her firm literally overnight. The amount of work for the company would be huge, and so would the payoff.

"I'll have to talk to one of the senior partners about this, Harry," she said quietly.

"Do so, but in vague terms. If you can attract his interest enough, Lord Mills can see about getting him cleared to visit the Weyr," Harry said.

Margret looked over to Issac, who smiled encouragingly. He truly liked working here at the Weyr. It allowed him to practice muggle medicine and dabble in magic without hiding it. It also allowed Frannie, and she would always be Frannie to her daddy, to be open about what she was.

With that solved, Harry gestured towards the science buildings several hundred meters away. "I was walking towards the science buildings, if you'd like to join me?"

The two adults nodded and Harry reached down and scooped up Frances and deposited her behind Chekiath's fourth neck ridge. She was too small to sit in Harry's spot, but the neck was narrow enough there to accommodate a very smart five year old witch.

Frances laughed and bent over to hug Cheki. The huge dragon rumbled with mirth and fell into step with the others.

Harry walked besides Chekiath and he looked up to see the small girl laughing on the dragon's neck. "You know, we're going to have to expand our school," he said softly. He gestured towards Frances. "Someday not too far into the future the riders are going to have their own families."

"Why not just send them to a regular school?" asked Margret. "Once the Weyr is publicly known, the children could be easily bussed to a nearby school."

Harry smiled. "Your daughter is a witch, and according to Spath, possibly a potential candidate. It's really too early to tell, but he thinks she will be a rider some day. Would you send your daughter to a school where she has to hide who and what she is? Hermione's parents spent a small fortune on some very painful tests for their daughter because they didn't know she was a witch. Here in the Weyr, she can be a little girl with an extra gift and no one would consider it strange."

"It's a good point, Harry, but I wouldn't do anything just for us. Frannie can go to a regular school next year. The riders won't be having children yet and even if they did, it would be years before you need an elementary school," Issac said.

"Frances!" Frannie said from her perch on Cheki.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Issac said with a smile for his daughter.

Harry chuckled, then scowled at a group of people standing in front of building fifteen, the main science building. "I wonder what's going on over there?" he muttered.

He switched directions and the small family followed behind him as he quickened his pace. There was a large group of people milling around in the front of the building and several men seemed to be setting up cameras on tripods pointed at a large 'X' someone had marked on the roadway in front of the building.

Spotting Sir Robert, he walked over to where the old man stood leaning on his cane and watching intently. "Sir Robert?"

The old man looked up and smiled. "Ah, Harry. You're just in time!"

"In time for what?"

"Places everyone! Twenty seconds!" shouted a technician who had been aiming a camera.

"We're testing a portkey on a dragon," Sir Robert said, then he glanced at his watch.

Harry stared at the man, then looked dumbly at the large marking on the road. There were a few seconds when the only sounds that could be heard came from the far end of compound where the new regiment was moving in, then suddenly Comaloth appeared with Hermione on her back. The large dragon staggered a few steps and abruptly sat down. Hermione was busy being sick on her perch and not really caring about the mess she was making.

Comaloth moaned and closed her eyes. "The world is still spinning," she whined.

Chekiath stepped forward, crooning at his consort. Issac reached up and removed Frannie from his neck, then he handed his daughter to her mother.

Harry broke from his shock and sprinted forward. With a wave of a hand he vanished the mess Hermione made, then gently floated her from her seat and own into his waiting arms.

Issac stepped up to his side and checked her quickly, then jerked his head towards the building. "Let's get her inside, but I think she'll be fine."

Harry nodded and looked at Cheki. "Stay with Comaloth. Bespeak to Trath and tell her May is needed at Building Fifteen," he sent.

"Yes, Harry."

A minute later, he had Hermione stretched out on a couch in one of the offices. "What's wrong with her?" he demanded of Issac.

Issac ran his wand over her, casting a few charms. He was a muggle doctor who dabbled in magic healing and knew just enough diagnostic spells to help in this case. Finally, he straightened up. "She's magically exhausted. If I had to guess, I would say that most of her magic was used to power the portkey. Dragons might be inherently magical, but they can't cast spells, so Comaloth couldn't power the portkey by herself. On the other hand, Hermione can cast spells, and she was sitting on the dragon wearing only her flight suit. She probably had direct skin contact, so the portkey used her magic."

Harry ran a hand through his hair and stared down at Hermione. He wasn't sure what bothered him the most, that she would risk her dragon, or herself in an experiment.

"Comaloth, are you all right?" he asked.

"Yes, Weyrleader. The world has stopped moving. Is Hermione well? She seemed to fall asleep very quickly even after she got sick."

"She's going to be fine. All she needs is some sleep," Harry replied, then he glanced at Issac, who nodded in confirmation. "Comaloth, if May insists, go to the infirmary to be checked over. Otherwise, go home. They'll be no more experiments today. I'll bring Hermione home as soon as Doctor Sheppard says she can be moved."

"She can be moved now, Harry. She's just sleeping," Issac replied. "She'll probably sleep most of the day. I'll send an elf by later tonight with a potion to help her sleep through the night, this way she doesn't get turned around."

Harry nodded and carefully scooped her up, then cast a wandless featherlight charm to make it easier for her to be carried. "I'll take her home then," he said and walked from the room, leaving Issac staring at his retreating back. The doctor knew Harry was angry, but he wasn't sure who his anger was directed at.

Several hours later, Hermione finally woke enough to hear the soft voices around her. She moaned slightly and opened her eyes. She was in the bed she normally shared with Harry and May! And both of them were sitting in chairs that someone had moved into the bedroom from the living room. "What's happening?"

"Awake, are we?" asked May.

She nodded and blinked sleepily. "Why am I in bed?"

"What I'd like to know is why you decided to risk yourself and your dragon?" Harry asked a bit coldly.

Suddenly she sat up. "Coma!?" she gasped.

May held up a hand. "Relax, she's fine. She had a major case of vertigo, but it quickly cleared up. She's in her bed and Cheki is watching over her."

"I'm fine, my heart," said Comaloth.

"Well?"

Hermione met Harry's gaze and she realized that he was very angry at her. "Harry, I..."

Harry stood and glared at her.

"Harry," May chided gently, "give her a few minutes to get her bearings before you jump down her throat. Why don't you go fix us some tea."

Harry looked at May, then over to Hermione again. Finally, he nodded and walked from the room. Since Dobby always had tea ready for them, he knew she wanted him out of the room so she could talk to Hermione first.

May watched Harry close the door behind him, then she turned back to Hermione with a frown.

"He's afraid, Hermione, and you're going to have to be very honest with him about this," May said intently. "He's angry that you and your dragon were sickened in a poorly conceived experiment and he's afraid because you took a big risk. By his reckoning, he nearly lost both of you. The Weyrleader in him is angry, and the man we both love is terrified because he nearly lost you."

"I thought it would be useful if we could move an injured dragon via portkey," Hermione admitted.

"It would be useful, but tell me this. Do you believe Harry when he tells you that he loves you? I know he says it to you as much as he tells me."

"Of course I do!" she protested.

"Then what would he do when someone he loves hurts themselves? You took a big risk today. Doctor Sheppard says that a witch can die from exhaustion. He loves you and you risked your life over an idea that turned out to be a bad one. He won't admit it, but he's afraid of losing you, he's just as afraid for me, but I'm not the one taking the risks here." May said.

Hermione looked down at the blanket in her lap for a moment. She finally started to speak when the door opened again and Harry walked in levitating a tray behind him. May stood and took her cup from the tray, then she gave Harry a pointed look. He sighed and nodded to her.

"I'll be in the living room going over my notes," May announced, then she left the room.

Harry let the tray with the two remaining mugs float to the night table. He sat on the edge of the bed and suddenly grabbed her into a crushing hug. Tears sprang to her eyes and she clutched him tightly. "Don't ever do that again." he said intensely.

She nodded against his shoulder.

Finally, he released her and reached for her cup, then handed it to her.

He leaned back. "Talk," he said.

She dropped her gaze. "I thought it was a good idea, Harry. If we could move an injured dragon via portkey it would make things easier for the Weyr. I didn't realize that the portkey would be so violent, or that it would tap my magic to power itself."

He nodded slowly, having figured that out already. "Now, what's the real reason?" he asked.

She blinked at him and looked away. "I just wanted to be as useful to you as May is," she whispered. This was the Weyrleader speaking, looking for the deeper motivation.

Harry frowned. "You're not May. You're only sixteen years old. Like me, you're still going to school and few of us know what we're going to be doing once we're finished. May knows what she'll be doing, but she's the rare one among us. Right now, you're one of the better Wing seconds, and my own personal tutor when it comes to magic."

She smiled to herself. That much was true. Whenever she learned a new spell, she sat down with Harry and took the time to teach him how to cast it. He might not understand the theory behind the spell, but with his power, he usually mastered every spell she taught him.

"You're already incredibly useful to me," he continued in a softer tone. "Both you and May see things from different angles and you both offer good advice all the time. And I won't even go into what we do behind closed doors. All my life I wanted someone to love me, now I have that in two beautiful women. But today was a reminder of just how fragile what we have really is. You could have died!"

Harry looked away and took a deep breath, then he continued. "Two years ago I would have laughed if someone told me I'd find someone as pretty as you could love me. I still can't believe that I ended up with you and May. It still scares me silly that I'm going to do something wrong and ruin what we have."

"But, Harry..."

He reached over and placed a finger on her lips, silencing her. "Have I ever broken a promise to you?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"Then believe me when I say the Weyr will help you become whatever you want to become. We are going to need so many things, from doctors to solicitors to engineers, and yes even witches or wizards to brew potions and enchant our crossbow ammunition. Your idea was a good one, but you talked to Sir Robert and his people, who thought it was worth trying. Had you asked me, I would have said I didn't know and sent an email to Albus or even Croaker, asking for their opinion," he said firmly. "I'm not going to say anymore about the subject, but I want you to know that I'm not happy with what you did. You risked your life and your dragon, neither of which I want to lose. I've lost too many people that I care for already."

Harry stood and looked down at her. "Now, instead of sending you off to paint the fence, you'll spend the next few hours giving Comaloth a good oiling and brushing. Chekiath will make sure you do a good job," he said with a touch of a smirk.

She smiled slightly and nodded. She was very relieved to avoid a paint brush, and taking care of Comaloth was something she enjoyed doing. Harry was letting her off easy because he knew she'd be brutally hard on herself for trying a risky experiment and she was still tired from the experience.

"Lordeth?" he said aloud, calling to Wayne Hopkins' dragon.

"Yes, Weyrleader?" came a startled reply.

"Will you tell Wayne that I want him to make sure all experiments involving dragons and magic are to be approved by the Weyr council or myself personally from now on?"

"Of course, Weyrleader."

Harry gave Hermione a weak smile and a shrug, then he turned and walked from their bedroom. She sighed and turned in the bed. "I guess that wasn't a very smart idea," she admitted to herself.

"I really didn't like the way the world moved," Comaloth complained, "but it's stopped now which is good. I couldn't walk very well when the world was tumbling like that. I don't know how everyone managed to keep standing while I couldn't."

ICW Headquarters, Paris, France, May 20th...

Albus closed the folder and slid it into a bottomless bag Minerva had given him for Christmas many years ago. The ICW was about to meet to hear the progress made by Yoshi and ICW to bring the conflict between Italy and Greece to a close.

Standing, he glanced around at the small office that was identical in form and function to the office that every delegate had. The only exception to that was the Supreme Mugwump office, which had the most comfortable foot stool that massaged one's feet under the desk. He so enjoyed that comfort, but had lost it when the British Ministry had resigned his position under Fudge.

He started to make his way to the door of his office when he paused and frowned. Someone had just erected substantial anti-apparation wards!

Without considering, he cast a shield just as the door to his office exploded inwards. His shield protected him from the blast, but he was still pushed back into the room and his hip smashed into the side of his heavy oak desk. There was a snapping sound and pain flared intensely. He fell to the floor.

Somewhere in the distance he could hear shouts of alarm and the sound of spell fire. He aimed for the door and with a negligent wave, the scraps of door still hanging on the wall transformed into a rock wall. It wasn't thick, but it would slow his attackers down.

"It is madness to attack here," he muttered, then he tried to sit up. Gasping in pain and realizing he was on the brink of blacking out, he did the only thing he could think of. "Fawkes," he gasped, then his eyes closed and he slumped to the floor, overcome by the pain of a badly broken hip.

The stone wall crumbled away and just as men rushed into the room, Fawkes flamed out with Dumbledore securely held in his talons. The men cursed loudly and attempted to activate emergency portkeys, but the security detail had already closed off that means of escape.

They would have to try to fight their way out against some of the best hit wizards in the world.

Hangar Two, Campbeltown Weyr, May 20th...

Harry sat in his place just in front of Chekiath's shoulders. In front of him was his Wing, Wing One.

"Today we'll start practicing evasive flying in an environment where people are using missiles," Harry said to the nervous riders. "These smoke rockets will create a lot more smoke than a missile would, but if you're careful and observant, all you need is two seconds to alert your dragon to jump Between.

"Fighter pilots are taught to rely on their equipment and their eyes. Unfortunately, you don't have missile detecting equipment, but you do have two sets of eyes, and one pair has vision far better than your own," Harry said with a smile. "Dragons, I know you've been trained to not go Between without a visualization from your rider. This is one of the few exceptions to that rule. In fact, I want each dragon to randomly go Between so that your rider will become accustomed to that."

"Jump to where, Weyrleader?" asked Garanoth.

"Here, or if the fight is here, then to another Weyr, like Disko or Maziang," Harry replied. "The point is, you dragons can see better than your rider and you might not have enough time to warn your rider. For the sake of yourself and your rider, you must be able to evade instantly. Am I clear about this?"

"Very clear, Weyrleader," replied several dragons.

"In today's exercise, we will fly up to about a thousand feet. The smoke rockets will be fired by Sergeant Nichols and his people from the firing range. For today's exercise, they will be mostly fired away from the wing formation. We'll be looping around the range. And in case you're worried, these rockets have a very limited range. We'll be at least three hundred feet beyond where the rockets can reach, but don't get smug about that. I will be ordering the Wing to lower altitudes as the exercise progresses."

Harry leaned back and noted May looking rather frightened. "Trath, please tell your rider that nothing is going to happen to her," he sent privately.

"She says she knows, but it doesn't stop her from being scared, Weyrleader."

Harry smiled at that. May was a true Gryffindor, even if she wasn't a witch. Somethings, like these smoke rockets and the fact that they were drilling to repel an attack, scared the daylights out of her, but she pressed on in spite of her fear. It was a quality that he found much more admirable than the usual Gryffindor urge to rush into battle with no regard for one's own life or limb.

And if she needed to be held closely afterward, he didn't mind at all.

It was a real difference between Hermione and May. Hermione would charge in, then spend hours afterward reexamining her actions and analyzing them to pieces. May would do what she had to do and then seek reassurance from someone close to her.

"Dragons, eons ago, your ancestors dodged thread by ducking Between. We don't have thread, but the idea is the same. By ducking away from a missile, you save yourselves and your rider. Now, let's do this," he said.

Harry smiled again and pumped his fist twice, ordering the wing aloft.

"Cheki, we'll head south until we're near the main gate. Once the wing is in formation, we'll swing around and head for the firing range. We'll make our first pass at one thousand feet, then a second one at eight hundred. Don't let the riders know we're bleeding altitude."

"Yes, Harry," replied the dragon. Harry could hear his dragon ordering the wing and knew they would be fine. The second pass would still be out of range of the rockets, but close enough to alarm some of the riders.

Nearly an hour into the drill, Harry was startled by Spath calling him.

"Spath?"

"Wolf needs you to land immediately, Weyrleader. He brings word of an attack against White Beard," Spath replied.

Harry frowned. "We'll be there in a minute. Cheki, tell Garanoth that I said Ronan should take the wing, then land us," he sent.

Harry heard Cheki echo his commands, then he broke formation with a sharp bank and peeled away from the wing, heading towards the administration building. A knot of worry formed in his belly when he saw Sirius, James, Remus and Katherine standing in front of the building, waiting for him.

Cheki flared out and dropped to the tarmac and Harry hurriedly slid down from his spot. He landed lightly and trotted over to the waiting adults.

"Harry, we got word from Hogwarts that Albus arrived there a short while ago thanks to Fawkes. Timath and his team have been watching the school. She heard Fawkes arrive in distress and asked Poppy what happened. Apparently, Poppy isn't used to having a dragon cling to the wall just outside of her hospital ward, but once she got over her shock, she explained that Albus had been injured in an attack. He wasn't even supposed to be in the country today," Remus explained.

Harry scowled and turned back to Chekiath. "Cheki, call in the wing. I don't know what is going on, but I want all of our manned dragons on standby. Call all of our magical riders to assemble in front of Hangar Two. Albus Dumbledore has been a friend of the Weyr since the beginning and we'll stand with him, even if it just means sitting around waiting for news from Poppy."

"Yes, Harry."

"What are you planning to do, Harry?" asked Sirius.

He shrugged, "Now? Not much. We'll go to Hogwarts and wait. There's nothing else that can be done now. As much as he angered me by his inaction while I was a student, since I impressed Cheki, he has done nothing but help the Weyr as much as he could. I, no, we, owe it to him to be there."

Remus and Sirius exchanged a look, then Sirius said, "I'll get my jacket."

"Me too," added Remus.

---

Author's Notes and Mockeries:

- First off, we're sorry that this chapter is a little smaller, but when I was cutting it from my mainfile there was a critical section that I couldn't cut up. That meant this chapter ended up being just 30 pages long instead of the usual 33-35 pages.

- We've been asked what does the Dragon flag look like. It is very simple. Each Weyr selects their own signature colors, but the flag itself is a silhouette of a dragon and rider in flight. For Campbeltown, its a black image against a white background. The colors are also used on the flight and dress uniforms as a way of identifying the home Weyr for the rider.

- A lot of people seem to have problems with the issue of autonomy. It isn't that difficult really. The Weyrs are still bound by the laws of their host countries. They may have internal laws that allow things but in the case of Harry/May/Hermione, Harry cannot simply declare it legal and expect Britain to say "Okay, we dig it." It's just not going to happen. Right now, the Weyr needs to play nice with their host countries and bucking social mores is not playing nice.

- Shaggy37 wants to know if there are other cross overs planned after this story is done. Sadly, no. We have no more crossover plots planned. We've been at this since 2005 and the well is pretty much run dry for Harry Potter. This isn't the end of our writing, but I intend to try our hand at something original for a change. There is still another book to get through before anyone has to worry about that. And yes, this book is complete at this point.

- This topic was covered extensively in our Yahoo group, but I'll repeat it here for those that do not belong to the group. Dragons are basically invisible to the human eye, but not to man's machines. There was a video shown in book 1 in which the dragons were clearly visible as a bright hot spot in the thermal cameras. Infrared seeking missiles would not have a problem locking onto that heat source and never know, or care if it were the exhaust of a Mig-29 or a dragon. Satellite thermal imaging does show a bunch of bright dots, but dragons are poor heat conductors, being cold blooded. So they appear as dots without any shape. Couple that with not appearing at all in a visible light camera and you'll find many photo interpretative analysts thinking the satellite is malfunctioning.

The biggest issue here is Harry's strong desire to keep the dragons out of any conflict. While the Weyr may have uniforms for special occasions they are not a military unit and never will be. That's why the dragons haven't been trying to pair up with the military police guarding the Weyr. And eventually the MPs will go away, replaced by a civilian firm.

- Short notes and disclaimer this time. We've under a snow advisory here and it's wreaking havoc with our net connection. There's so much snow falling at times that our microwave connection drops completely. We wanted to get this out while the connection was still up.

And for this chapter's recommendation.

The Last Potter in England by AlaskanKing
StoryID: 6028270

Yes I know this story is not marked complete, but it's done. Sometimes you want a light hearted tale that just leaves you with a warm and fuzzy feeling. This one does that nicely enough. 8K words in four chapters, it's a little gem that deserves to be seen by more people. Check it out and if you liked it, drop a review saying so. Definitely Harry/Hermione.