A/N: WARNING: Author is in a philosophical mood.

I'm always thinking. I can't help it. And as I took a walk the other day to clear my head, I found myself reflecting on this story, a story that is supposedly already written for the most part. I find I can't stop tinkering with the darned thing. Even this chapter, I've spent about eight hours reworking it and rereading it, changing a line here, a word there. Adding something. I even removed a paragraph because I managed to say it better with a snide remark.

I don't know how it is for other writers. For me, writing a story is like a zipper on a jacket. Each link on the zipper is a possibility of what could happen. Each chapter is the joining of some of those links. The possibilities become less because s of those possibilities that did not happen.

For those of you who are wondering what the Aich Eee double hockey sticks I'm talking about, I did warn you that I was feeling philosophical. You either end up going "oh, yeah" or (and more likely) "yeah, right". Besides, it is a stupid analogy. I should have gone with water and stone.

Chapter 15: A Great Amount of Nothing

Arthur Weasley looked out over the lake. He was sitting on the rock that Draco had occupied so many times. His excuse was that he wanted to ask Draco about something or other. Since Doctor McCudgeon needed to talk to Dumbledore, everyone else was still in Hogsmeade and the dragon had decided to take a nap. Draco didn't complain. He had too many questions of his own to ask.

"My first question, Mister Malfoy, is this. What is going on?"

Draco laughed. "That's my first question, too. Mr. Weasley, why'd that lady come off the train asking me if I wanted to change schools?"

"Curious, that," Arthur said. "The Minister personally told her to take you with her when she left. She didn't like that. And then she offended the Minister by saying she would consider it. They did not get along."

Draco refused to believe that was all. Arthur confirmed that he did mention Draco's name once or twice during the trip to Hogsmeade. Particularly after Doctor McCudgeon demanded to know everything about 'this boy'. In the States, the Boy-Who-Lived was a curiosity and nothing more, on par with the man who can fit eleven pool balls in his mouth. There was a pause while Draco explained what a pool ball was. Arthur continued by saying that Draco Malfoy was a name in the trivia books for most Americans.

What Doctor McCudgeon found out was that she had stepped into a hornet's nest. She remembered hearing about a boy who killed a basilisk. She did not notice or recognize the name. As for the Dark Lord, she had heard rumours. There were always dark wizards around. Even in the States. Most were of the criminal mind. There were currently no competent wizards across the water who were trying to take over the world. When she learned about the Philosopher's Stone, she understood that she had walked into something, for lack of a proper word, unexpected.

Arthur smiled at Draco. And the dragon? That was Charlie Weasley's excuse why he was at Hogwarts. Did Draco know that the first task was supposed to involve dragons? Draco caused him to laugh when he said that was why he brought his own. Then he mentioned the Veela girl who was the Beaubatons champion. Arthur shook his head, saying his son still had the roving eye.

"How many other girls has he looked at?"

"All of them, sir. Fleur Delacour's the only one he asked about. The only one he asked me about."

The next question the boy had to answer was if anything was new. It was known that Voldemort was planning his return. That the return was to coincide with the conclusion of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. That Rodolphus Lestrange was expected to wait at the school until that happened. Draco told him that the tournament was fixed. He went into detail about the conversation between himself, his godfather and Ludo Bagman.

"There could be a connection," Arthur suggested.

Draco gave a derisive laugh. He also forgot to use his fancy voice. "Ain't stupid, ye know. Rabastan Lestrange even said it last year. 'e wants me dead. Me an' Potter an' Longbottom. An' if 'e can only 'ave one, I'm firs' on the list."

"Then why did you agree?"

"Somethin's up. Me godfather'd never suggest it if'n . . ." Draco took a deep breath. "Rodolphus Lestrange made an unbreakable vow to my father to help me whenever I needed it. He wouldn't have suggested I do this if it weren't the safest course. Safest for me, that is."

"Do you think you'll win?" Arthur's question was more than curiosity.

"I have to," Draco answered sadly. "There's this prophecy . . ."

"About lying?"

Draco's look answered the question. "You remember Jack? He's a Trelawney on his mother's side." Draco related the limerick the American boy recited. As well as the true events in Gringott's vault.

"Odd," Arthur said. "Prophecies are always slightly obscure. This one seems straightforward. The cup you took was destroyed by dragon's breath. By the very same dragon that keeps looking in our direction. And the second one: the cup takes you; it restores a wizard's name. You do understand, Draco, that the boy has told us what HIS plans are. This second cup, probably the trophy cup, is a portkey. Or it will be. My guess is that it will be set to activate when the winning champion grabs it." Arthur stood up. "This is amazing. We know what the Dark Lord is planning to do." He frowned.

"Whot?"

"The last line: fortune demands that you choose true." Arthur sat back down. "You have to choose. But what?"

It was because he was Draco. He had to smirk. "I'll find out after I grab the portkey." He looked at his pickle watch. "It's almost five. Should we head back, yet?"

"We could chance it. Mildred and Albus should be finished by now. And, Draco, we are going to have to be more careful if we continue to meet. I've been slipping little tidbits of information when I thought they would be useful. People are curious about my sources."

"How bad is it?"

Arthur smiled. "They have doubled the size of my department. I'm now the boss of six people."

Draco nodded. "Oh yeah, forgot to tell you something the last time. You know a man named Travers?"

Arthur shuddered. "Met him, once. Taught me to be thankful for shielding spells. Why?"

"Ran into him in Diagon Alley that day. He asked me to say hi to my godfather for him."

They were about halfway back to the castle at this point.

"Draco, Sirius Black told me that you remember everything. Last year . . ."

"Yeah, I remember killing Simon Nott. He meant that spell for me."


Four Gryffindors walked down the stairs on their way to the Great Hall. Two of them were twins.

"Well?" Hermione asked.

"Americans are stuck up and stubborn."

"Then you'll fit right in."

"They don't want me. All because the Minister told them they had to take me."

Fred and George laughed. One of them said, "and now you wish you could go."

Draco tried to frown, but they were right. "'mione, what them other two Yanks like."

"I talked with Professor Adrem, mostly. She's wonderful. Tomorrow, I'm giving her a tour of the library . . . and the school. Do you know, her first question was why you called me 'mione instead of Hermione. I told her you were from London."

"I call you Hermione."

"Only when you use your fancy voice."

"Yeah," Fred continued, "otherwise it's 'er, 'mione'. You always stutter when you use your regular voice."

"Actually, Fred," George countered, "with his accent it's more like, 'uh, 'mione'."

Draco started to object. His objection was that he always called her Hermione. Justin was the one who started calling her, 'mione.

Hermione stopped to face him. "Think, Draco. You always drop your aiches. You always called me ER - MI - O - NE. Justin assumed that ER was your way of saying excuse me."

"But Draco never says that," George noted. "Excuse me, that is."

Fred patted Draco's shoulder. "It's true, mate. Even we thought you called her 'mione. That's why we thought you fancied her."

"And," Hermione reminded him, "Professor Pettigrew (may he rot in hell) referred to me several times as your girlfriend."

As they continued walking, Draco made a promise. He would always make it a point to call her by her proper name. Hermione told him not to bother.

As they neared the entrance, Pavarti Patil was asking Ron Weasley if he knew how long Dean and Lavender have been seeing each other. They paused briefly as Ron said hello to his brothers and Draco and "Mione". Pavarti told "Mione" that Dean was seen kissing Lavender in Hogsmeade. She'd tell her later what she found out. Justin greeted Draco and "Mione" as he saw them come in. They arranged to sit close to where he was. At the last minute, Colin Creevey and his brother took the seat across the table from them. Dennis at once said, "thanks, 'mione, for helping me. McGonagall told me I really improved."

'mione looked at Draco. And smirked.


Albus Dumbledore stood up as the last students entered the hall and took their seats. He very politely introduced Doctor McCudgeon and her two assistants, announcing that they would be staying at the school to see how well their candidate did in the tournament. The doctor stood up to more than modest applause. She sat down almost at once. She did not smile. Not until the food appeared on the tables. Draco barely paid attention as he at once began to fill up his own plate.

As everyone sat back to rest before the desserts appeared, Dennis decided to ask his question. "Draco, are you really going to a girls' school."

"No, he isn't," Hermione said. That made Draco wonder how much she knew about what he and the doctor talked about, but she added, "they became 'co-ed' four years ago. Plenty of boys go there, now." She then explained to Draco that co-ed meant coeducational. She then added that it meant that they taught both boys and girls. She concluded by telling Draco that he was old enough that she shouldn't have to explain words to him anymore.

Hermione was smiling. "What did you and Mister Weasley talk about?"

"Um, girls. He noticed his son eyeing that girl from Beaubatons. What did you talk about with those teachers?"

"You. At least that's what I talked to Professor Adrem about. Professor Duracam had Justin give her a tour of Hufflepuff. I'm guessing they talked about the same thing." She turned around and called Justin's name. When Justin turned around she asked him. He told her she was right. Draco tried to ask his own question but Dennis beat him to it.

"Why'd they split you up? Was it a test or something?"

"I asked," Justin called back. More than their small group was listening now. "They each get our own stories then compare notes. That way they know where the lies are." As the laughter died down Justin added, "they're curious about you, Draco. To them, you were a nobody. Here, you're the center of attention."

Hermione nodded in agreement. "There's another reason, too. Professor Adrem let slip that being part of the tournament is what she called a big ego boost to the school. Everyone knows they're a good school, but being here gives them an international reputation. I think they want to make a good impression so that they're invited back."

Draco understood something that no one else at the table knew. Doctor McCudgeon's first act as a guest in this country was to argue with the Minister for Magic. The Minister would make sure they were never invited to return.


After the meal, Draco stayed behind. So did the other champions. Rita Skeeter and Harvey were back to take pictures of the Americans. First, the three witches posed. Next, Draco was added. Then there was the group picture. All four champions with the head's of their respective schools standing behind them.

Once the pictures were done with, Rita tried to interview the witches. Professor McCudgeon said in a polite tone that she was grateful to Albus Dumbledore for permitting them to come. Professor Adrem said she was grateful to Draco Malfoy for giving them a reason to come. Professor Duracam won Draco's heart. She said she was grateful this interview was almost over because she was dog tired and wanted to go to bed.

Rita smiled and turned to Draco. "We'll talk later."

"She'll make us look like fools," Professor Duracam said to no one in particular.

"You read the Daily Prophet?" Dumbledore asked her.

"For the sports section, mostly. But I have read some of her articles. Including the one where she called you a barmy old coot."

"I missed that one. My favorite was the one where she said I was addlebrained. I like the way that word sounds."

"She always says nice things about me," Draco noted. "Except my second year, when she called me that crazy escaped lunatic." As the Americans stared, Draco added, "that was just after I ran away from the asylum."

Doctor McCudgeon eyed Draco carefully. "We'll talk later."

"They like you," Angelina Johnson said as she walked with Draco back to Gryffindor. "I know you're going to have a wonderful time at your new school."

"Um, what if I don't go? I know everyone's being nice to me because they think I'm leaving, but . . . what if I don't go?"

"Why wouldn't they take you?"

"Things."

"But," Angelina paused. "It was in the Daily Prophet. The Minister said it was already decided." Another pause. "Why? What did you do?"

Draco couldn't help himself. "The Minister said that before he talked to anyone. That Doctor McCudgeon told me. She also said she told the Minister she would think about it. Then she asked me if I wanted to go."

Angelina didn't say anything. She was thinking about how to answer, and it seemed she wanted to give an honest answer.

"As far as Hogwarts, it won't make a difference. Your friends will still stand by you. Your enemies will still hate you. And the rest of us will still put up with you. I'd worry about the Minister. He hates you for what you did, putting your name in. If they don't take you, he'll get rid of you some other way."

Draco nodded. It was what he should have expected. He gave the password and both of them entered the common room.


"This has to be a joke, Sirius." Evelyn Brown said that so loudly that it could be heard from their hiding spot even without the Extendable Ear. Hermione told Justin and Draco to be quiet so they could keep listening. Her original intent in following them was to berate them for trying to eavesdrop on someone's conversation. She now wanted to hear the rest of it.

"There's two closed doors and a hallway between us," Draco pointed out.

"And if you're talking I can't hear what they're saying."

Evelyn Brown had just repeated herself. There was anger in her voice. "This has to be a bloody joke. Yes, I studied Psychology. Human Psychology."

"The first task is only a few days away. If we can't get rid of it this weekend, the Minister will have to delay the task."

"Then delay it. Cancel it. Or do you honestly expect me to go out there and play psychiatrist to a dragon? If I even consider that, then it's obvious that I'm the one who needs a psychiatrist."

"Could you at least try to reason with it or something?"

Even Hermione giggled at the noises Evelyn was making.

"REASON? REASON? SIRIUS, IT'S A DRAGON. IT'S AN ANIMAL. IT'S A BLOODY FOUR STORY TALL WAG YOUR TAIL AT DINNER TIME ANIMAL. YOU CAN'T REASON WITH IT."

"Draco can, sort off," Sirius said in a calm voice. "He's bonded with it."

"You want the dragon to leave? Send Draco somewhere else. It's like the nursery rhyme. 'Draco had a great big dragon / Its scales were black as ink / And everywhere that Draco went / the dragon was sure to go."

"That doesn't rhyme."

"SIRIUS!"

"Fine, I understand. And I remember that poem. It even followed him to school."

"Good. You remember it. And why does the dragon love Draco so?"

"What?"

"Why . . . does . . . the . . . dragon . . . love . . . Draco?"

The three were trying not to laugh too loud as they could hear Sirius Black singing to himself, "and why does the lamb love Mary so, love Mary so, love Mary so."

"This is amazing," Professor Duracam said from behind them, then quickly put her finger to her lips to tell them to keep quiet. She whispered quickly, "next time, close both doors to a classroom when you're trying to hide." By this time, Sirius Black was almost to the end of the stanza. Except that he stopped. They heard his voice again.

"No. That can't be the answer."

Draco swore he could hear Evelyn Brown smirking as she said, "because Draco loves the dragon, you know."

"You do?" Hermione asked.

"Well, like a sister."

"Or a mother?" Professor Duracam asked. Draco meekly nodded his head.

From the ear, Sirius's surprised voice came. "Do you think Draco's aware of this?"

"If he wasn't before, I'm sure he is, now."

"What do you mean?"

The anger finally disappeared from her voice to be replaced by surprise. "You don't know? You're the one who called him a scheming runt. You're the one who said he shouldn't be trusted. You're the one who spotted him walking down that corridor and suggested we come in here to talk. And you're the one who told me he had that Extension Ear or whatever you call it."

"Uh."

"I would wager all the money I have that he is listening to us right now."

"You are wrong," Sirius said with authority. "He was with Hermione Granger. I know her as well. She would never let him . . . What was that?"

It was no use doing anything. Justin let out a howl of laughter as Hermione began to blush fiercely. Draco heard the door to the classroom across the hall open. He heard the angry footsteps cross the hall. He saw the door they were crouched behind open up. He saw Justin, who was leaning against the door, fall onto Sirius' feet, still laughing. And he heard Professor Duracam say, "I wish I had a camera." He couldn't help himself. He pointed at Hermione and said it was her idea.


"It was not my idea," Hermione insisted.

"I do believe you," Sirius Black answered.

Everyone was walking toward the main doors. And attracting attention. Mostly by Draco and Justin singing, "Mary had a little lamb". Sirius was furious but Evelyn was telling him he deserved it, after insisting the two boys keep singing.

"May I ask, Dolores" Professor McGonagall said as she walked up to the unlikely group, "what in Merlin's name is going on? I received your message."

Draco made a note that these two were already on a first name basis.

Professor Duracam answered. "Minerva, Dear, I've an idea on how to convince the dragon to leave. I'm hoping it works. Half-hoping to be honest. Evelyn, here, was saying how dragons don't think. They feel. My guess, from what they told me, is that the dragon is worried about Draco. All we have to do is convince her that he'll be fine."

"And what do you need from me?"

"The way I see it, that dragon thinks it's Draco's momma. All we have to do is let her know that Draco's with family. It's OK if he's with family. Then she'll leave. But she doesn't know people. And you're an animagus."

Professor McGonagall was impressed. "She doesn't trust humans but she'll trust other animals."

"I hope," Dolores answered.

"One moment."

Professor McGonagall cast a patronus spell and a ghostly cat went flying away up the stairs. Draco asked and was told that the patronus was delivering a message for her. He then asked for lessons on how to do that. She told him to attend all of his classes regularly. Even the DADA classes. Only then would she even consider it.

Faster than they expected, Albus Dumbledore came down the stairs and joined them. He said was surprised at the idea and upset that he wasn't the one to think of it. It was now a small crowd that began to exit the building, with McGonagall admonishing the would-be spectators to stay inside the building because it could be dangerous. This resulted in more potential danger as the students crowded around the windows, particularly the upper floors.

The dragon was looking at Draco. He could feel its concern. Dolores Duracam pushed Draco forward and ordered him to think about his momma, about how he felt about her. He stepped forward until he was just out of reach of her now lowered head.

This close, he couldn't help but smile. He knew it was the bond, but he always felt good when he was close. Something brushed his leg. He looked down. It was Professor McGonagall in her cat form. Something butted his other leg. Sirius Black's dog sat down next to him. He glanced behind as he heard his name called. Professor Duracam said she wanted no surprises. As he watched, she began to change. Before he could react, she was gone. A mountain lion was standing there in her place. It padded over to him and sat on his other side. The cat was sitting in front of him.

Pride. That was what he felt. She was proud of him for making such friends. Then both looked up as a musical sound was heard. A scarlet form appeared from between two of the towers. It slowly circled as it dropped lower. In the gentlest possible way, Fawkes, the phoenix, landed on Draco's shoulder. As it continued to sing, he felt another emotion. Relief.

He could sense it. She had what she wanted. An assurance she could understand. And she was ready to leave. Underneath all the other emotions was another coming to the surface. Longing. Longing to be with her own kind, with other dragons. But. There was something missing. Instead of leaving, as she clearly wanted to, she was looking around. Draco started looking around, too. He didn't understand. It wasn't here. No. He wasn't here.

That's it! He's not here.

"KREACHER."

Draco had to laugh. That was the last piece to the puzzle. As the house elf came running out of Hogwarts, he could feel what she was feeling. It was safe to leave him.

"Master?" Kreacher was looking at the animals. Especially the phoenix.

"Kreacher. It's Mum. She wants to say goodbye."

"To Kreacher."

"We are family, right?"

Kreacher smiled and took his position in front of Draco, and behind Professor McGonagall. All of them were looking at the dragon. She reared on her hind legs and let out a roar. Flames shot straight up, reaching as high as the tallest tower.

She leaped. Suddenly, flapping wings were creating a small windstorm. The dragon quickly gained height. It circled the school once before flying away.

Everything was wonderful.

Life was good.

Fawkes leaped off his shoulder in anticipation, as Draco drew his wand. Both boy and Dragon gave out a roar as flames from both leaped high into the air.

Taking their cue, a half-dozen dragon tenders rose on their brooms to shadow the dragon on the way back to the preserve. They were going home.


"It was Evelyn's idea," Professor Duracam was saying. "I just knew how to put it into practice."

"For which we are all grateful," Albus told her. The small group, with two additions, were now gathered in the headmaster's office. "Mister Malfoy, how do you feel?"

Draco looked up. He had been staring into his cup of tea. "Homesick, sir. I miss her." He wiped away an imagined tear. "I know that doesn't make sense."

"You are wrong. It makes perfect sense. I could see it in your face when you stood close to her. Your worries faded away as though they never were. I think that was the first time I saw you truly happy."

"You are an amazing young man," Doctor McCudgeon told him. "Albus, I think I should let him know what we've decided."

"You're going to take him after all?" Sirius Black asked with a hint of hope.

"Yes and no. I've cut a deal with the Minister of Magic . . ."

"For Magic, Mildred," Professor Adrem corrected.

"Whatever. Anyway, the deal is that we accept Draco into our school. In exchange, we are a permanent fixture in all future tournaments. But we did leave a loophole. Draco did say he wanted to stay, so if he can present a suitable replacement, we will be forced to accept that student instead, as the Board has only made allowances for one additional student. I've assured the Minister that the replacement will have to be exceptional."

Draco was thinking that the Minister must have made a very bad impression on the Doctor.

Dumbledore nodded. "And I have invited a certain American family that Draco met during the holiday to attend the first task. They have a son who is exceptionally talent."

Professor McGonagall snorted. She had heard that the family was related to the divination teacher, once or twice removed. Sirius Black grinned into his tea. He knew the boy in question. He hoped to have the chance to coach the boy so that he seemed impressive. In fact, almost everyone was smiling. The young boy, Jack, would be offered Draco's place at the school because of his amazing talent, whatever it was. Hermione and Justin both promised to help if they could and to say nothing about the plan.

Draco was not smiling. He knew what Jack was capable of. And he was worried that the boy would do something.


It was the day before the first task. Dolores had already told Draco to use her first name in private. And they had a wonderful conversation. Draco now wanted to go to America, if only to visit certain parts of Arizona. That parts that she talked about. But now, Draco was in the kitchens talking to Kreacher. Dolores said talking about home was making her think about the foods. She told Draco he probably knew it as Tex-Mex. She then explained what Tex-Mex was. She then explained what a burrito was.

Anyway, Kreacher was now assuring Draco that everything was under control. One American teacher would find out how well one dedicated house could prepare a meal.

That done, he made his way back to the main entrance where almost everyone was waiting. Almost everyone being Hermione and Justin with Professors McCudgeon and McGonagall. The main doors opened and Sirius Black led in a family of five.

"It's him, mom." number three said, pointing at Draco. "Did Dad lose his wallet again?"

Everyone politely laughed, except for Draco. Professor McGonagall had just assured him, "We'll talk later."

Introductions were made for the adults. The nine-year-old came up at once and held out his hand, "Thanks, Draco," he winked, "for everything."

Draco smiled back and shook his hand, "You're welcome, Jack. And these are my best . . ."

Hermione was staring at Jack. Jack's sister was saying, in an annoyed tone of voice, "Mom, he's doing it again."

Draco turned back. Jack's face looked like it was made of stone. As he started to speak, Draco spoke first.

"Bloody Hell."

"A favor being done / all know it's for fun / She has no doubt / She has to shout / this is number one."

"Limericks?" Professor McCudgeon asked.

"It's the Irish in him," Draco suggested.

Jack blinked a few times. "Are these your friends? I mean mates." He saw the stares. "What did I say this time?"

It was Abby. She was still annoyed. "Somebody does some lady a favor and she likes it."

"Oh, why can't it be anything important."

The father was explaining that his son had made dozens of predictions. The latest before this was that the waiter would make a mistake at breakfast and serve him poached eggs instead of his usual omelette. The daughter added that she liked the one about walking out the front door and seeing a cat in a tree.

When Draco heard McGonagall's comment that the boy did have the Trelawney gift. Even though she tried to say it in a nice way, he felt he had to do something. He put his arm around the boy's shoulder and told him, "Let me show you the dinning hall. You'll like that."

Justin and Hermione followed. As Jack's eye grew larger from staring at the ceiling, Hermione patted his shoulder, "isn't this great."

Jack turned to her and smiled.

"You must take what he loves." Still smiling, he added, "This is great."

Two things of note happened that night at dinner. Hermione pronounced that boy, Jack, as creepy. And Professor Duracam called Draco to the teachers table where she was sitting. She told him she loved everything, even the refried beans. "But the Salsa, and I know Salsa," She held out a corn chip and told Draco to try some. As the JalapeƱos in the dip began to burn his tongue, he heard her say, in a loud voice, "This. This Is Numero Uno."