"Charlie! Who's the newbie?"
"Hey, new girl!"
It was like all of the bad Muggle high school movies, Shay though, suddenly remembering a summer spent with her half-blood friend where televisions were not unheard of. Once she had gotten over the strangeness of the things, it had been a pleasant enough experience.
"Don't be too worried," Charlie said as he nodded toward the food line. "They're just…undersocialized."
Behind a long counter just ahead of them, platters kept refilling as their contents were picked and chosen for individual plates.
"There's usually a pretty good variety," Charlie said, passing Shay a plate. He seemed distracted, eyes scanning the tables as he spoke. His voice was still flat with the giving of information. "We have a really wide variety of cultural diet restrictions, vegetarians, you name it. So there's always something for everyone."
He moved along the counter, selecting a large chicken drumstick, potatoes, and vegetables. Shay followed behind, selecting mixed vegetables, a small dinner roll, and a cut of chicken.
"By undersocialized, you mean…"
"They don't see new people often enough. We're kind of enclosed, in case you couldn't tell."
"No need to be rude," Shay said softly. It was her first admonition of him, however slight, and it felt strange. Charlie seemed to think the same – he glanced at her, seemed unsure of what to say.
"You're right," he admitted finally. "Sorry."
The silence that came afterward was uncomfortable. They joined a table – Shay was glad to see that Claire was a member of the group there, along with a group of men and one other woman.
"Shay, this is Derek Hunt, Clifford Morrison, Henry Reed, and Felicity Richardson. Everyone, this is Shay More."
"Oh, winged horse girl!" the first man, Derek, said. He had a ropy scar running across his face. It began at the left side of his forehead, cut across his nose, and down to the left side of his chin. He seemed to notice her glance. "Nearly got my face torn off by a crazy Welsh Green, coupla-years back." He explained.
Clifford Morrison and Henry Reed were both taller than Charlie and Derek, but while Clifford's muscles were bulky and more pronounced, Henry had more of a lithe strength to him. If translated to animals, Clifford would be a bear, Henry a panther.
"I take it you haven't really met any of our lovely beasts, yet?" Claire asked.
"Not yet," Shay replied. "Just glimpsed, really."
"I thought we should ease her into the first day," Charlie said. "Let her get used to them, first."
"I did kind of meet the Horntail, though," Shay put in. "And kind of felt like I was staring death in the eye."
"You've got that right," Clifford grunted. "That thing is death. Death personified."
"Oh, stop being dramatic," Claire chided. "It's not a Grim."
"Might as well be," Henry put in. He had an accent that Shay couldn't immediately place, though she knew it to be some version of American. "Don't get on the wrong side of it, that's all I'm saying. Actually, keeping away from it entirely might be a better option."
"Oh, stop," Claire said. "You boys are just going to scare the poor thing off."
Poor thing?
"Don't worry about me," Shay said with a smile. "It'll take far more than that. Though speaking of which, why do people think I'm going to run screaming?"
Claire glanced at her, then at Charlie and the others.
"No offense, love," Clifford said with a smirk, "but you're kind of little."
"Compared to you lot, maybe," Shay said with a huff. "But you make me sound like a bloody hobbit."
Charlie snorted and Shay, surprised, glanced up at him with a tentative smile.
"A what, now?" asked Henry.
"A hobbit," Charlie said, speaking to Henry but still looking at Shay. "From a story Muggles like about a magical world. Almost like a fairytale. Hobbits are little people with furry feet."
Clifford looked at Shay oddly. She laughed.
"I promise, I bear no similarity in that regard. Or any other, really."
""It's really because you look kind of – don't kill me – delicate. Whether or not you actually are doesn't matter," Claire said, bringing the conversation back to where it had begun. "You look like a china doll."
"Thank you?"
Claire giggled, lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Just being honest," she said.
After lunch, the group of five headed back to the dragon dens. Claire had taken Shay's arm, and was happily chattering about the dragons.
"We'll get you right into the swing of things, now," she said. "Just wait. We've got an old, OLD Welsh Green that you can start off with. He's mostly non-dangerous, because he has no teeth, but he's still clever so it's not an insult or anything…"
Shay grinned, listening to her new friend talk. Claire's voice was pretty, melodic in a way. If Shay had been any good at music, she probably could have translated the rise and fall of it to musical notes.
"Don't forget that he doesn't need teeth to spit venom," Henry said with a smirk.
"Venom?" Shay asked.
"They don't spit venom," Charlie said, rolling his eyes. His shoulders had relaxed, Shay noticed, since they had fallen in with this group – he was no longer carrying them by his ears. "They secrete it beneath their tongues and they kind of…drip it on you, if they can."
"…So they drool venom?" Shay asked, trying not to giggle.
"Essentially, yes,"
The Welsh Green in question was as old as the hills, if not older. His scales were even rimmed with silver, a paler shade of green than they would have been on a younger specimen. And his eyes were slightly clouded, though they gave the impression that they could still see just fine.
Well enough to spot you and kill you, anyway.
"What's his name?" Shay whispered, gazing at the creature through the den's magical barrier.
"Dracul," Charlie said with a shrug.
"Yes, because we're just so creative around here," Claire said sarcastically.
Shay laughed, but was too preoccupied with watching the dragon shift on its pile of gold to laugh much.
Clifford touched Shay's shoulder from behind.
"We're going to take down the barrier," he said. "To let you get used to dragons. But we'll all be here, just in case."
Shay nodded, swallowing her nerves as the space between her and the dragon began to crackle, and then to shimmer as the magic faded. The great, scaly nostrils twitched and the head raised, watching Shay closely. She gulped, but was careful to show no signs of fright or submissiveness. She was safe, she reminded herself. There was nothing to be afraid of – still, her fingers tightened reflexively on her wand. Though what spell she would use on a dragon, she had no idea.
Strangely, this felt no different than engaging in mind battles with Altair. The power of the dragon was greater, as was his intelligence. She could feel it like she could feel magic.
"Alright, big guy," she whispered, the others fading into the background as she focused in on the creature before her, "This is just you and me."
Shay took a cautious step forward, watching the dragon carefully all the while. His eyes followed her, his head swaying on his neck.
"Just you and me," Shay sing-songed. There was a special magic for use with animals. Something she had been taught long ago. And it had nothing to do with wands. Everything was in the mind, and therefore particularly suited for a Ravenclaw.
Now, Shay focused her mind on the consciousness of the dragon, feeling the way his curiosity played through the air with vibrations like guitar strings.
"Who am I, hmm?" She whispered, "This puny little human?"
He growled, and there was a spark of fire in his eyes. The restless ripple of his apprehension caught Shay slightly off guard. He didn't understand what was going on – everything was unfamiliar.
"I know," Shay murmured. "but I won't get any closer than this, okay?" True to her word, Shay halted her advance and let the dragon grow accustomed to her presence. So far, so good, she thought. But she had to remember that this would be easier with such an old, wise dragon. He was more willing to accept this than a younger, wilder creature would be. Than the Horntail would be, for example. This dragon had seen more, it couldn't exactly be surprised. And it was far more accustomed to humans.
Suddenly, the dragon's gaze went beyond Shay, and focused on the group behind. The growl began again, low in its throat.
"Hey," Shay said, sharply. "none of that, please, mister. Just you and me, remember? You and me. Right here. Keep your eyes here."
She focused her gaze on the dragon's eyes, both fascinated and repulsed by the unblinking gaze.
"That's right," Shay whispered when their gazes locked. "That's right, you beautiful thing."
The great head began to lower, lower, lower, until the eyes were level with Shay's eyes. His breath was hot, like the breath of an open oven. Shay couldn't breathe beneath its heat.
Behind her, Charlie, Clifford, Henry, and Claire tensed.
"Shay," Charlie growled warningly. Shay fluttered a hand at him, a shushing motion. And the dragon continued to watch her, the scaly nostrils mere inches away.
"Easy, easy," Shay chanted. The dragon made a rattling noise in the back of its throat. Suddenly, there was a burst of magic, Shay was jerked back by a strong arm, and the dragon was left snorting smoke, disoriented and confused, behind a magical barrier once again.
"What are you doing?" Shay screeched, pushing away savagely. Charlie had yanked her back behind the magical barrier with an arm around her waist, pressing her against his chest in the effort to keep her away from the dragon. "Are you crazy?"
Shay was livid, flushed and wild eyed.
"Am I crazy?" Charlie bellowed right back, "Are you crazy, you nutcase? He was about to kill you!"
"He wasn't!" Shay protested. "Couldn't you see, it was working? Just like for the horses! It was working, and you stopped it for no reason!"
"Working?" Charlie's voice had dropped dangerously. He was growling again. "Working? Are you mad? That rattle was the poison…"
"But he wasn't aggressive!" Shay let out all of her breath out in a huff, and pulled a hand through her hair. "He wasn't aggressive," she repeated. "he wasn't even anxious. The thing was just damn curious, and now I'll be lucky if I get near him again."
Shay and Charlie glared at each other following her final words. Charlie looked away first, shoving his hands into his pockets. Shay hardly felt the victory – her pulse was pounding too loudly.
"I expect that's enough for me, for one afternoon," she said coolly. "Claire, I'll see you later."
Clifford, Henry, and Claire were watching her with mixed shock and appreciation.
"Charlie, mate," Clifford said with a laugh as Shay disappeared up the stairs, "I think you've met your match."