The World Across the Pond

by James Wright

For reasons long forgotten, the Dragons of Draco Isle and the wizarding community have remained distant for centuries. The return of the Dark Lord has sparked the need for these two worlds to once again reunite or surely be destroyed. Jake and his allies are chosen to observe and guard Hogwarts, but they'll soon learn that not all wizards and dragons share their peaceful desires.

31. All Good Things

Emerald: I can't tell, was that a good guttural noise or a bad one? You know what, doesn't matter.

OMAC: The sequel potential is strong in this one...

We're at the end, people. I present the last complete chapter of the story. There will be one last update (probably in a few days) with an epilogue for finishing touches, but I'll also include my thoughts and take on the story! SO, if you have any questions or ideas you want me to address in the last update, leave them in a review or PM and I'll be happy to discuss it. Otherwise, read/review/follow/favorite as usual, and enjoy!

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"...a considerable amount of damage, and not just to the Department of Mysteries. The Prime Minister himself closed half of the Ministry just to deal with the situation."

"Indeed. I do not envy his position at this hour."

"By all means, save your pity. Fudge brought this on himself. I won't be surprised if he resigns once the Daily Prophet has its way with him."

Like rising out of tar, Jake's sight and hearing sluggishly returned to him. He could feel the soft linens wrapped around him and the down pillow beneath his head, but he also slowly began to notice the aching in his chest and the throbbing pain his ribs. His arms felt raw, his joints were stiff as ice, in fact there was very little of Jake's body that didn't hurt at the moment.

"And the dark wizards? What became of them?"

"Yes, the Death Eaters. We managed to capture a fair number of them, but we had our own...losses." A chair scraped against stone, and the woman's voice returned more loudly. "Though it would have been far worse had you two not been there. Isn't that right, Mr. Long?"

The light was so bright it felt like Jake had his face pressed to the sun itself. He squinted into the burning day and saw above him the rafters and arched windows of the Hogwarts Hospital Wing where was currently lying in a corner, blocked from view by standing curtains and dressed in itchy white clothes that reeked of bleach. Lao Shi sat on a cot to Jake's right in his dragon form, while Professor McGonagall stood erect at the foot of Jake's bed, leaning on a cane with her right arm cradled below her chest in a sling.

She tilted her head toward Jake. "Good morning. You're looking well, all things considered."

"Yo...'sup, McGonagall." Jake pushed himself further up the bed, groaning from the pain in his side. "You don't look so bad yourself. Aren't you supposed to be at a hospital or something?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Aren't you supposed to be a mute?"

"Oh...yeah, about that..."

Lao Shi put a clawed hand on Jake's knee. "You need not explain if you do not wish to, young one."

"It's cool, Gramps. I should've come clean a while ago." Jake turned back to the Transfiguration professor. "Besides, I think you're really gonna like this."

Professor McGonagall cocked an eyebrow. "And by 'this', you mean...?"

Jake closed his eyes and focused inward. Within his chest beneath the aching bone and muscle, he could still feel his seed of dragon chi. It wasn't as bright and powerful as usual, but he only needed to divert a portion of the energy up through his neck to feel the magical flames transform his head.

He snapped his eyes open and smiled a toothy grin. "Ta-da!"

Professor McGonagall was unfazed. "Well, that's a relief."

Jake's pointed ears drooped. "Say what?"

"Had I known that I was not teaching a wizard, Mr. Long, I would have taken your poor performance in my class much less personally." The corner of her mouth perked up. "So thank you. Now I won't have any guilt over the results of your O.W.L.s."

Flames sparked out as Jake drained away his chi and returned his head to normal. "You're welcome, I guess?"

"You see now why I was reluctant to corroborate the Death Eater's story," Lao Shi sighed. Soft flames that looked more like smoke engulfed him and left behind a short, old, white haired man in a blue robe. "The nature of our identities is not a subject we discuss lightly."

Professor McGonagall nodded. "Even so, it is good to know that Malfoy's testimony harbors some truth, though I had admittedly hoped otherwise."

Lao Shi bowed his head. "As had I."

Jake waved his hands. "Hold up, I'm out of the loop. What testimony are we talking about?"

"The one given by Lucius Malfoy, the leader of the Death Eaters," Professor McGonagall clarified. Her voice took on a morose tone. "The Aurors found him and several of his comrades when they arrived, along with the two of you. Malfoy was trapped in chains, but was still conscious and had seen most of what transpired. We promised to lessen his sentence if he gave us information, though I was skeptical of his credibility when he mentioned one of the students fighting by transfiguring his arms."

Jake leaned forward over his sheets. "So he talked? What else did he say?"

Professor McGonagall's face fell a bit further. "That's...what I came to discuss with you."

"Please, allow me." Lao Shi stood and bowed to her politely. "I can relay all that you have told me. I'm sure you have more pressing matters to attend to."

She paused with an uncertain look before returning a curt bow. "Very well. Take as much time as you need."

Professor McGonagall turned and walked toward the hanging curtain that surrounded their section of the Hospital Wing. Slipping through the curtain, there was the sudden introduction of heated conversation from the rest of the ward. Jake recognized the voices but could not divine the context of their conversation before they abruptly cut off as the curtain closed again.

Jake looked away from the enchanted enclosure and back to his grandfather, who had returned to his cot with his hands folded and his eyes closed. It was strange to Jake how natural he felt with Lao Shi beside him, as if he had never run away from the man and the rest of his family months ago. Just having him near sent pangs of joy through Jake's chest, yet he could think of nothing to say.

His Dragon Master, it seemed, was struggling as well. So they sat together for a while, sharing their artificial silence so long that Jake began to pick at his scabs and bruises. The skin of his forearms was cracked where he had blocked the Killing Curse, and an itching rash shaped just like the sphinx hair rope circled both of his wrists.

"Forgive me, Jake."

"Huh?" Jake looked at Lao Shi, utterly perplexed. "Forgive you? What are you talking about, G? We both know this is all my fault."

From the pocket of his robes, Lao Shi pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and began to smooth it out. Shame crept through Jake as he recognized the note he'd left on his desk when he'd left.

"Everything changed after Chang escaped. I was so focused on capturing her that I failed to see how burdened you were until it was too late. And even then, I only pushed you further away."

"G, it's not like that-"

Lao Shi shook his head. "I failed you, young dragon. A dragon master must be there for their dragon student, but I was not. It was I who lost perspective, not you."

A strange feeling bubbled within Jake, as if he were taking a breath of fresh air for the first time in weeks. It felt like he'd just taken off his training collar, and before he knew it he was laughing. Even as his side screamed in pain and his head pounded, he couldn't stop himself from giggling like an idiot.

"Oh man...that's rich!"

"What?" Lao Shi asked. "Did grandpa say something funny?"

It took Jake a moment to catch his breath. "Just...just let me get this straight. I'm a minute late for training or I miss a spot cleaning the floor and I get my backside handed to me, but I ditch dragon duties to play hookie in Scotland and you wanna take the heat for me?"

Lao Shi looked at him quizzically. "This is different, I-"

Throwing off his covers, Jake slid out of his bed and embraced his grandfather. "You're something else, Gramps. You know that?"

Briefly stunned, Lao Shi returned the hug and chuckled as well. "I am just glad you are alright. Now, care to explain what you were doing all this time?"

"It's...kind of a long story." Jake stepped away and sat back on his cot. "It was back on New Year's, right, and Dumbledore met up with me in Central Park. He was talking about how he'd seen Chang and came up with this plan to have Stout...Stout!"

The flash of white light, the cracks in the archway, watching Stout being dragged into the inky veil, it all ran through Jake's mind in reverse like a tape jammed in a VCR. He'd been so absorbed with his grandfather, he'd nearly forgotten to ask...

"Where's Benjy? Did anybody find him? What about the Dark Dragon, and that creepy arch, and...and..."

Lao Shi held an unnerving stare with Jake, his expression inscrutable. The look alone spoke volumes, but Jake still waited for Lao Shi to take a deep breath and patiently explain.

"From what Malfoy and the students reported, it appears that Benjamin, Chang, and the Dark Dragon all vanished through the archway. The artifact itself has been destroyed, though no one is certain how or why it happened." He sighed. "At least for now, we are safe."

"So...he's gone. Benjy's really gone." It was as Jake feared, as he'd known things were. He'd seen it all himself, but some stubborn part of him had kept hoping it weren't true.

"I know how you must feel, Jake, and I know you do not wish to hear this, but lives were at risk because of Benjamin. He was just as responsible as Chang and the Dark Dragon-"

"-and me? Even if I didn't mean it, I helped too. But that doesn't mean Benjy deserved it! He only did it to bring his family back, and he even saved me from getting dragged in by the Dark Dragon!" Jake scowled at his hands, the creases still caked with ash. "It...It should've been me."

He had expected some argument or retort, but instead Lao Shi joined Jake on his cot. He sat beside him and placed a hand on Jake's shoulder. "I'm sorry, grandson. I was not aware Stout had other intentions, and you are wise to look beyond the surface." He turned and squinted up at Jake. "Can I ask you a question, Jake?"

Jake shrugged. "Shoot."

"Why do you think Benjamin helped the Dark Dragon?"

The query surprised Jake, mostly because the answer seemed obvious. "It's like I said, he was trying to save his family. The Dark Dragon said he could bring them back if Benjy did his dirty work."

Lao Shi nodded. "That may have been Benjamin's goal, yes, but what drove him to such lengths? What would have been powerful enough to turn him against the magical world?"

Groaning, Jake leaned back and rubbed his eyes in thought. "Come on, G, is this another one of your Chinese proverbs or something? 'Cause I gotta say, I'm so not in the mood right now."

His grandfather chuckled. "Not this time young one. I have no clever sayings for this lesson. It something you must learn on your own."

"Yup, it's a proverb." Abstract thought usually wasn't his cup of tea, but Jake tried to think of some philosophical answer to appease his dragon master. "I don't know Gramps...Loneliness? Hope? Wait, it's love, isn't it?"

Lao Shi nodded with each answer. "Close, but not quite. Let's try again." He pointed a finger at himself. "A week after you disappeared, the Dark Dragon's activities began to escalate. I left New York by myself to search for you, and the first place I visited was England. When my search revealed nothing and Benjamin himself claimed to have no knowledge of your whereabouts, I traveled further still. For months I flew alone throughout the world, crossing oceans and continents in hopes of finding you."

"Gramps..." Knowing that he'd driven his own grandfather to such extremes exaggerated Jake's remorse tenfold. "I never meant to put you through that. And you've seriously been flying for months? That's...stubborn."

"Where do you think you get it from?" Lao Shi smiled. "Even so, I was growing weak and desperate until yesterday, when I finally decided to return to the Isle of Draco."

Jake sat up. "Hang on, if you were back with the Council then how did you show up at the Ministry of Magic?"

Lao Shi tugged back the sleeve of his robes, and Jake was mortified at the sight of the pink jeweled bracelet dangling from his wrist. "I never made it to the Council. You see, I-"

"You didn't." Jake clapped his hands to his head in horror. "Tell me you didn't go to Hong Kong!"

"My grandson goes missing and I need a hunter's help tracking him down, of course grandpa went to Hong Kong!" Lao Shi muttered some garbled Mandarin under his breath. "And it's a good thing I did! Were it not for Rose's dream charm, I may never have found you!"

"And it took you this long to use it? Or did Rose not give you the manual?" A long blue tail materialized from beneath Lao Shi's robes and snapped out, flicking Jake on the forehead. "Ah! Yo, what was that for?!"

"Do not sass your Dragon Master!" Lao Shi snapped. "And I did try, more times than I care to remember, but every time your mind was guarded! Even yesterday, when I made one last attempt to reach you, I had anticipated failure. Yet as I arrived, your mind was open."

"It was? Just like that? Well that's convenient - ah! Enough with the tail!"

Jake's forehead stung where his grandfather had lashed at him again. His tail fading away, Lao Shi said softly, "It was no coincidence. When I entered your dream yesterday, I heard something that guided me through your mind." He smiled at Jake. "It was your voice, and you were asking for help."

Jake felt his cheeks burn and looked away toward the windows, running his fingers through his hair. "Well I...that's, uh..."

"But back to grandpa's story!" Lao Shi hopped off the cot and folded his hands back into his sleeves. "For months I tried to find you. During that time loneliness kept me focused, hope became endurance, and love gave me the strength to keep flying. But do you know what made me leave on a fool's errand, alone and without direction?"

Surprisingly, Jake realized he did know. He knew because his grandfather had already confessed to it, and he knew because he'd felt exactly the same way. "You thought I left because of you."

His grandfather nodded, suddenly looking far older and more tired. "Guilt. Shame. I allowed my mistakes to torment me and made choices that were selfish and rash. And in the end, those choices only led to more grief."

The explanation plucked at the strings of Jake's memories. "When Stout was getting me ready to come back here, he told me how he couldn't stop his wife and kid from leaving. And when he explained that they were dead yesterday, he said it was the wizards' fault. He said he was working for the Dark Dragon for his family." Jake squinted at Lao Shi, the truth becoming clearer as he spoke. "But it wasn't just to bring them back, or for revenge, was it? It was because he blamed himself."

With great care, Lao Shi slipped the dream charm off of his wrist and placed it in Jake's hand. "Loss is a powerful thing. It can make you stronger, and it can tear you apart. Even when you're an old man like grandpa."

He curled Jake's fingers around the charm. "So please, Jake. Learn to forgive yourself."

In a flash, Jake felt like he was back in the room of mirrors from his dreams, surrounded by glass shards that replayed his countless faults with unbearable clarity. He clenched his eyes shut and clutched the dream charm. "I...I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do." A breeze brushed against Jake's cheek, and he turned to see Lao Shi standing tall in his blue dragon form. His Dragon Master stared at the ceiling. "Imagine what could have been avoided if the English Dragon had come to terms with his tragedy, or if I had accepted my shortcomings as your Dragon Master."

Jake grimaced. "Or if I hadn't run away like a selfish jerk."

"Running is easy, young dragon. Forgiving is hard." Lao Shi walked toward the curtain and looked back at Jake, his muzzle smoothed into a melancholy smile. "Now that you are awake, I must attend to matters on the Isle of Draco. Something tells me the Dragon Council will be very interested by what has happened."

The spontaneous farewells caught Jake off guard. "Wait, you're leaving already? And why am I stuck here?!"

His grandfather grinned. "Do not worry. From what I understand, the students will be returning to London tomorrow by train. We'll meet there and return to the Isle of Draco, together. In the mean time, rest and think over what I told you."

"Wait, Gramps-"

Lao Shi paused with his claws on the curtain. "Yes?"

"How do I do that? The...forgiving, thing." Jake fought to speak through his embarrassment, still repulsed by the memories drifting through his head. "Every time I think about the stuff I did, it get's even worse. What if...what if I can't do it?"

Lao Shi scoffed. "Preposterous! Who was it that came to your rescue, even when you forbade it? Who was it that gave me the charm that would lead me straight to you?" He pushed open the curtain and stepped through, continuing over his shoulder, "With such caring friends beside you, I am certain you will find a way, young dragon."

Once again, a swell of voices flowed out from beyond the curtain and were immediately silenced as Lao Shi left. In the wake of his departure, Jake still felt uneasy. His grandfather made it sound like shrugging off his greatest insecurities was the easiest thing in the world, but that was precisely what Jake had spent months attempting to do with no success. Maybe he would find the answer with time, but how long could he wait before he made even more disastrous mistakes?

The one comfort to Jake's building headache was his grandfather's parting sentiment. Even when he pushed them away, Jake's friends had ultimately been what saved him. Whether they were old ones like Rose, who he'd helped free from the Huntsclan, or new ones like Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who had stuck with him through the likes of shade demons, Umbridge, and Death Eaters...

"UMBRIDGE!" Jake clapped a hand to his mouth and sprinted for the curtain. "She's still in the Den! Yo Gramps, wait-!"

He threw aside the cloth and came to a standstill. Jake wilted as, instead of his grandfather, he found the inquisitive stares Neville, Luna, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione, all of whom were lying in cots with outfits similar to his own. They appeared mostly uninjured with only cuts and bruises from what Jake could see, but that gave him little in the way of relief as they all turned at his outburst.

"Uh...hey guys." He gave a half-hearted wave. "Wassup?"

"Jake!" Hermione shot up from her bed and hurried over to embrace him. She wrapped him in a tight hug, but flinched away as he gasped in pain. "Oh, sorry! Are you alright? I didn't mean-"

"No, no, it's fine!" he wheezed, grimacing through the discomfort. "Some pulled muscles, a few broken ribs, nothing major."

Ron jerked up in his bed and glared at him. "And you'll have plenty else broken if you don't keep your hands off her!"

"Yo, you are not still pissed about that whole kissing thing?" Jake snapped. "And you can't tell me what to do! What are you, her keeper?"

The ginger threw off his covers. "Alright, come on then! Just you and me, man to freak!"

"Oh, it's on freckles! I could take you down with one wing tied behind my back!"

"Unbelievable," Ginny muttered from her bed.

Hermione rolled her eyes and jabbed a finger at Ron. "Enough! You, quit acting like a buffoon and sit down! And you!" She turned on Jake. "Stop encouraging him! As if he'd have a hope of winning anyway."

Jake gaped at her. "But...but he started it!" He found himself smiling as Hermione fell into laughter. "What? What's so funny?"

She shook her head, brushing hair out of her face. "Nothing, it's just..." An edge of sadness mingled in with her smile. "I'm just glad you're alright. We...heard what happened."

"Oh." Jake's chest twinged with sorrow, but he merely shrugged. "I'll be fine, I just need some time to think about it. I mean it all happened so fast...but thanks, for worrying."

A flash of joy crossed Hermione's face before falling back into melancholy. "I just hope Harry is able to cope that well."

Jake furrowed his eyebrows at her. "Why wouldn't he be? Him and Stout weren't exactly BFF's." He looked around the ward and realized the one missing body he'd forgotten to count. "Where is he anyway?"

"Dumbledore's office," Hermione answered, looking equally confused. "You mean Professor McGonagall and Lao Shi didn't tell you?"

"Tell me?" Jake looked between the students, who had all adopted a disturbing solemnity. "Tell me what?"

---

The silver paperweight soared and struck the wall, shattering into bits of metal that littered the office floor.

"Harry..."

He snatched a bronze trinket off a shelf, some strange bauble that looked like a multi-leveled set of scales, and hurled it toward the fireplace. It crashed into the ashes, the plates flying loose of the contraption and bouncing out over the stone floor, clamoring like cymbals. Orange light from the rising sun outside flickered from their dented surfaces.

"Why?!"

Harry scowled at the Headmaster who sat at his desk with his phoenix Fawkes dozed on a swing over his head. Harry felt like he was going to burst, uncertain whether his heart would erupt from his chest before his head exploded and covered the room with his fevered brains. His nails dug into his palms, and he began to search for something else to throw.

"Why what?" Dumbledore observed him over the rims of his half-moon glasses, his face a monolith of impossible patience. "Talk to me, Harry. Or do you wish to continue dismantling my possessions? I would understand you if you did."

Harry grabbed the chair meant for him and tossed it aside. "I was there! Right next to him! We were fine, Sirius was fine!" He clawed at his dirty, matted hair. "So why is he gone? Why?!"

Dumbledore was infallibly calm. "He's gone because Bellatrix Lestrange killed him, Harry."

Heat pooled and stung Harry's eyes. He hated himself for it. "But why was he there? He wasn't supposed to be there!"

"He was there to protect you," Dumbledore answered. "He was there because he loved you."

Harry shuffled to a stop. It felt like a great hand were crushing him in the silent aftermath of Dumbledore's words. He'd come to the conclusion that, deep down, he'd known to be true all along.

"Sirius was there because of me." He turned back to the Headmaster. "I'm the reason he's dead."

"No." Dumbledore swept up and around his desk. He placed his hands on Harry's shoulders. "You had nothing to do with this. No, Harry, listen to me. Voldemort and his Death Eaters killed Sirius, no one else. And if anyone is to blame for Sirius's involvement, it is me."

Harry eased his struggle against Dumbledore's grip and looked sideways at the old wizard. "You've been gone for weeks! How could any of this be your fault?"

"Because I knew it was going to happen."

"You...what do you mean you knew?"

Dumbledore waved his wand, still expressionless, and Harry's chair drifted up from the ground and righted itself. The headmaster returned behind his desk and nodded toward the replaced seat as he took his own. A lingering flame of defiance urged Harry to refuse him, but he couldn't deny the fatigue in his legs and so took his seat. Dumbledore nodded with gratitude.

"One year ago, after your first encounter with Voldemort, you began to experience disturbing dreams. Sirius dismissed them as a harmless manifestation of your grief, but I suspected they were of a more malicious nature. I also surmised that they would only grow worse as Voldemort grew in power, and possibly, I feared, even grant him access to your mind. So, I took precautions."

He slumped a little further in his chair, his fingertips pressed together in thought. "I thought if I distanced myself from you I would avoid drawing Voldemort's attention. Yet it was not enough, and come winter the truth of the matter was revealed, both to you and to Voldemort. My worst fears were being realized, and it was only a matter of time before the Ministry deposed me. If...no, when that happened, there was no telling what Voldemort would do."

"Then why didn't you tell me anything?" Harry rasped, though he felt he already knew the answer. "You didn't trust me, you never did! You thought I was just some stupid bloody fifth-year!"

"Control yourself young man!" a voice heckled above. Harry craned his neck to see the portraits hanging about all listening intently. The tart looking witch that had spoken glared at him through thick-lensed spectacles from one of the nearer frames. "And mind your tongue!"

"No, no, no." Dumbledore leaned onto his desk, pressing a hand through the wrinkles of his forehead. "Any fear, any stress could have triggered a far worse reaction. Divulging the truth was too great a risk, a risk I was spared when I chanced upon Benjamin Stout during a visit to the Ministry. When I mentioned my predicament, he proposed an alternative solution."

The memory of Stout's transfigured arm from yesterday's battle drifted through Harry's mind, along with the near escape he'd had from Umbridge's office. "Stout was a dragon. Just like John - Jake, I mean. It really was you that brought him back?"

"With his permission, of course, but yes. Benjamin told me where I might find him, and Jake agreed with my plan. With him to restrain you and Professor Snape's Occlumency lessons to build your mental defenses, I felt your safety was assured." He breathed heavily and closed his eyes. "How foolish I've become with age. I played right into their scheme."

"You weren't the one tricked by a dream!" Harry blustered. "You didn't go charging straight into a Death Eater trap!"

"But I did, Harry." Dumbledore took off his glasses and laid them on his desk, still focused on them as he spoke. "I was too trusting. The attacks on Hogsmeade and Azkaban would have required Ministry intelligence, but not once did I doubt Benjamin. Instead of protection for you, I gave the enemy leverage. I put my faith in the wrong people, and that mistake almost cost us the prophecy, the Order, the dragons...everything."

Harry chuckled mirthlessly. "So all things considered it turned out pretty well, right?"

Long gray hair drifted over Dumbledore's mournful expression. "I'm so sorry, Harry. Right now, I know you must be feeling-"

"No, you don't," Harry said scathingly. He fought to stop the trembling in his chest as he seethed, "Don't pretend like you know how this feels, because you don't! I thought I was doing the right thing, I even checked Grimmauld place before I left! But Sirius died anyway. Occlumency, Jake, the Floo Network, none of it mattered..."

"Of course it mattered," Dumbledore interrupted. "Bellatrix Lestrange had informed Kreacher of Benjamin's plan. He drew Sirius toward the attic with Buckbeak, and answered your call alone to lead you astray."

Rage sparked within Harry for the house elf he'd once shown kindness. "Kreacher lied? But I thought-"

"-that house-elves cannot lie to their masters? True, but he lied to you, not Sirius. Only later when Lao Shi arrived at Grimmauld Place did Sirius question Kreacher and learn the extent of their plan." The Headmaster leaned closer over the length of his desk. "Had you not called, Harry, Kreacher would have had no lie to reveal and Sirius would never have known you and the others were in danger, or worse, he may have gone unprepared. Because of you, members of the Order coordinated in time to stop Voldemort and the Death Eaters."

The sun rose in earnest behind Dumbledore, the bright light silhouetting his exhausted slouch. "Your love for Sirius and your friends was stronger than any protection I could give. In the end, your love was the reason Voldemort could not possess you. And I say all of this because what happened isn't your fault. If nothing else, Harry, you must believe that."

There was a pause, and Harry tried to appreciate what Dumbledore was trying to do. He knew it wasn't fair to assume sole responsibility with so much working against him, but the fact remained that he'd chosen to leave the safety of Hogwarts. He'd put himself in harms way, and Sirius had paid the price.

"I thought they were after a weapon, but it was this all along." Harry slid his hand into his robes and removed the dusty blue orb they'd found addressed to him. It still felt strangely warm in his trembling fingers. "All of this, Sirius, just for this?"

Dumbledore answered with a regretful tone. "I kept you uninformed because I wanted to protect you, Harry. I realize now that I made a mistake, one which I intend never to make again." He held his hand out toward Harry. "The orb, please."

As he handed Dumbledore the glass sphere, Harry couldn't help but feel like he was surrendering a part of himself. The headmaster took it in his hand and held it up in the light, examining the dull object.

"This orb contains a record of a prophecy made to me by Sybill Trelawney many years ago, when you were but a baby. I was not the only one present to hear it, however, and it found its way to Voldemort. It was this prophecy that drove him to kill your parents, and for the past year he has struggled to retrieve it for knowledge on how to do the same to you."

Dumbledore took out his wand, rested the tip over the orb's crusted surface, and watched Harry closely. "If you wish, Harry, I would like you hear it."

Thinking about it, Harry realized he didn't know what he wanted. Between his fatigue and grief, he felt too numb to care about the figurine or its contents. All he knew was that ignoring the prophecy would be a waste of the only thing they'd been given in exchange for Sirius, a notion that only filled him with more guilt. He nodded.

"Very well."

Dumbledore tapped his wand against the orb. A brilliant line of light curved down its side, and the orb split neatly into two perfect halves. Drifting up from the casing, a cloud of glowing blue smoke tumbled and churned into a shade of the Professor Trelawney's tremulous, spectacled face. Harry felt himself drawn to the edge of his seat, a foreboding dread coming over him as the apparition's mouth cracked open.

And then she spoke.

---

The Great Hall was filled with the din of chatting students, enjoying breakfast and merrily conversing about their vacations to come. There were no exams to prepare for, no assignments to complete, and the House Cup was claimed and out of reach. Slytherin's triumph did little to dampen the atmosphere, however, and it was plain to see the carefree hopes of summer hanging over the school.

Jake observed it all from the farthest corner of the room, accompanied at his table by Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Neville. After suffering a day in the unyielding care of Madam Pomfrey, they had been set free of the Hospital Wing to enjoy their last morning of the semester. Yet even as he watched their classmates laugh under a bright, enchanted ceiling, Jake couldn't feel an ounce of joy in their group.

Neville was the first to look up from his cold food. "Wonder how Harry's doing."

Ginny shrugged, tapping a knife against the table. "He probably wants to be alone."

Jake shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Harry never visited the Hospital Wing, and they had yet to see him since they'd arrived at the Great Hall. It left them all concerned, and the worst part was Jake knew there was nothing he could do about it.

"Cheeseburgers."

Hermione squinted at Jake. "Pardon?"

"Cheeseburgers," he repeated, grimacing as he pushed a fork through his plate of beans, eggs, and sausage. "First thing I'm gonna do when I get home is get a cheeseburger with fries and a shake. No offense, but I won't miss the Hogwarts cuisine one bit."

"And here I thought dragons went for cattle and royalty," Ron quipped.

Jake leaned over the table and hissed, "I am seriously this close to dropping you off the Astronomy Tower, Weasel-boy. And try to keep it down, okay? The whole 'dragon' thing is still mostly a secret, and I kinda want to keep it that way."

"Or what, lizard breath? You'll toss me in some dungeon?" Ron snapped back. Overhead, the ceiling rang with screeches and hoots as the daily flood of owls poured in through the rafters, descending on tables with package laden talons.

"Hey, I'm not above slipping you a little memory potion if you start blabbing," Jake said, looking around at the others as well. "That goes for all of you. Snitches get stitches, ya heard?"

"You cheeky-"

"Oh no."

Jake looked sideways at Hermione, who had just unraveled her delivered newspaper and begun to read the front page. "Oh no? That doesn't sound good."

She showed him the cover of the Daily Prophet and looked over her shoulder at the other tables of students. "You might want to put the collar back on, just to be safe."

He understood her concern as soon as he saw the enormous article heading reading "YOU-KNOW-WHO HAS RETURNED" with pictures of their ransacked Ministry just below. They flattened the papers over the table and crowded around it, and Jake sifted through the eye-witness accounts, the reports of a Death Eater plot against Harry Potter and Dumbledore, and the official response from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. There was even a casual mention of a certain Department Head's mysterious disappearance, yet in all of it Jake found no mention of the Dragons of Draco Isle or the Dark Dragon. He counted it as a blessing, albeit a small one.

"We knew this would happen eventually," Ginny sighed.

"I'm surprised they even delayed it this long." Hermione said. "Still...one more day would have been nice."

There was a clinking of glass, and Jake peaked up from the table. The hall had fallen into revered silence as the other students read over their own copies of the Daily Prophet. He couldn't imagine how most of them were reacting, if they were terrified, angry, or doubtful, but already a few heads had turned in their direction. They were looking to catch a glimpse of the boy who they'd called a liar for almost a year, whose only crime had been receiving visions he'd never asked for.

It was then that a thought occurred to Jake, and he realized that maybe there was something he could do for Harry.

Ron flinched away from Jake as he hurriedly flung his legs over the bench and stood from the table. "Oi! Just where do you think you're going?"

"I've done the whole 'watching everyone stare at you' thing, not a big fan," Jake said. He turned and paced out of the hall, slipping his training collar out of his pocket and dropping it over his neck. The tingling weight that came with it was barely noticeable.

The castle was devoid of life, far emptier than Jake had ever seen it before. In only a few hours, its inhabitants would be crammed into a scarlet train and taken away from the moors and fields of Scotland, and nothing of their presence would remain within the ancient walls. Jake climbed up the empty stairs and felt a certain sadness about his scenery, as though he were watching some great creature wilting away.

He was just passing the third floor landing when Dumbledore appeared around the corner. "Ah, Jake. I was hoping I'd run into you."

Dressed in his usual violet robes and cap with his beard hanging freely down to his waist, the Headmaster seemed unchanged by recent events. He had remained as distant from the Hospital Wing as Potter, and before now Jake had not considered searching for him. Still, given that he'd ultimately failed to guard Harry and the others, it was only natural the old wizard would expect an explanation. Jake moved to remove his necklace, but Dumbledore raised a hand to assuage him.

"No need, Jake. I only wish to apologize for involving you and your grandfather in our affairs, and to thank you. Your efforts over these past months have been more valuable than you can imagine." He lifted an arm up and reached within the folds of his cloak. "I also thought you may be interested in what I recovered from the Department of Mysteries."

He withdrew his hand and offered its contents to Jake: his wand, and a small leather book with singed edges. Jake took the wand that had saved his life and stowed it in his pocket, and then took the damaged Replitome. Though the cover had seen better days, the pages inside were perfectly intact. They turned easily as Jake flipped through Stout's Replitome, smiling despite himself at the arguments and banter he'd shared with the English Dragon.

"I have one last thing, a favor to ask." Dumbledore chuckled at Jake's abrupt look of exasperation. "No need to worry, this one is quite simple. When the World Dragon Council asks for your recount of events, as I am sure they will, I want you to be completely honest about my actions."

Jake shook his head in protest. Revealing Dumbledore's plan, despite its good intentions, was a sure fire way of destroying any trust they'd managed to build with the wizards. It was an outcome Jake wouldn't accept, even if it meant he'd have to take the blame himself.

Dumbledore, however, appeared unconcerned. "This is how it must be, Jake. Witches and wizards are about to enter a trying time, and the Dragons of Draco Isle have already suffered enough for our follies. For the time being, it is best that we remain estranged." He bent down lower and spoke softly into Jake's ear. "But know that your invitation still stands. Should you ever need to return, Hogwarts will welcome you back with open arms."

The Headmaster brushed past him and down the stairs toward the Great Hall. He halted a few steps down. "Oh, and thank you for taking such good care of Madam Umbridge. Unfortunately, she is still recovering from shock at St. Mungo's psychiatric ward. Something to do with monsters and shadows in the Dragon's Den."

With that, he turned and walked out of sight. The man was a mystery to Jake, but he couldn't deny the logic of his request. Still, it was a matter Jake had some time to think on, so he slid the extra Replitome into his robe pocket and resumed his climb toward Gryffindor Tower.

As he neared, The Fat Lady turned in her frame and grimaced. "Oh, it's you. Well what's the password written on today? A dirty handkerchief? The sleeve of your shirt?"

Jake rolled his eyes and took off his training collar. "Deo volente. Now hurry up, would ya? I'm kinda in a hurry."

Her eyes popped open beneath her curly hair. After watching her gape listlessly for a few seconds, Jake sighed and pushed his way into the tunnel beyond. The common room was as empty as the rest of the castle, and Jake paused just long enough to look over the familiar cushions and furnishings before heading toward the dormitories. He hadn't been sure where to find Harry, but his gut instinct was rewarded as he heard his voice outside their dorm room.

"Sirius!...Sirius Black!...Sirius Black!"

Jake pushed open the door and instinctively flung his arms out. His manipulation caught a square object flying toward him mid air, and he carefully lowered it into his hands. It was a small mirror, about the same size as his Replitome with a thick border and dusty surface. Jake looked up from his reflection to see Harry standing beside his bed, panting and glaring at him with pained rage.

"Woah, careful there Potter," Jake called, waving the object. "You almost bought yourself seven years of bad luck."

Harry turned away from him and sat on his bed, resting his head in his hands. As he sat motionless, Jake looked around at the uncommonly clean room. Dean and Seamus had already removed all of their belongings, and Harry's area was nearly as pristine. The only thing left was an open trunk at the foot of his bed.

Jake stepped forward and offered the mirror to Harry. "So what's the deal with this thing anyway?"

It took a moment for Harry to uncover his face and limply accept the fixture. "It's a magic mirror," he said. "Sirius...he gave it to me during holiday so I could talk to him, in case I had trouble with Snape's lessons. I forgot about it though, I only just unwrapped it."

Jake looked more intently at the mirror. "So, when I heard you saying his name-?"

"It's how you activate it," he explained. He scowled and glared again at Jake. "I know he's gone, okay? I just thought that if I...maybe he'd..."

"I know what you mean, dude." Jake dug in his pocket and pulled out his training collar. He showed it to Harry. "Stout was the one who gave this to me, to help me stay undercover. Every time I see it I think of him, even though he's not around anymore. Here, give me your hand. I wanna try something."

Curious, Harry lifted his hand and Jake gripped it in his own. Jake held his other hand above Harry's mirror. "Okay, I've never tried this before but something tells me it'll work. Think of some time you were with your Sirius dude. Try to make it something important, like when you cast that light shield spell. What is it, the Pamotus Charm?"

"Patronus," Harry corrected. "But why-"

Jake shook his head. "No questions, just trust me."

Harry considered it for a moment and closed his eyes in thought, holding still as if in prayer. Some time passed where his face twitched and tilted before he squeezed Jake's hand and nodded.

"Here goes nothing." Jake imagined his dragon chi flowing through him, from one arm to the other, and tapped a finger against Harry's mirror.

The glass surface rippled beneath his touch, and Jake held his breath as he watched the undulating wave spread over the mirror and turn it into churning black. Then, from the shifting surface, a picture arose that he did not recognize. All he could see was two dirty hands clinging tightly to a coat of fine white feathers.

Harry gasped at the sight. "That's-!"

In the mirror, the perspective changed as Harry's past self looked up and over his shoulder. Jake could see the large feathered wings of whatever creature he was riding beating in a dark night sky, and perched just behind him was a gaunt and ragged version of the man he knew to be Sirius Black. In this memory he was emaciated and poorly groomed as a wild beast, yet he looked nothing short of ecstatic. A wide grin of pure bliss split his pocked face, and a roar of fervent laughter escaped him as he lifted his hands to the stars above.

The memory went on for a minute or so before slowly fading away. Harry stared at mirror after it had gone, stunned into a awed silence. "Jake...I..."

Jake let go of his hand and pointed to the mirror. "Remember him like that, or however you want to. Just don't forget him."

He hadn't been sure how Harry would react to the memory, but his words seemed to reach him. Harry grabbed a crumpled sheet of parchment nearby and wrapped it around the mirror, placing the package carefully at the top of his trunk. He lowered the lid and clasped it shut, and when he stood again his shoulders sagged just a bit less than before.

"Thanks," he breathed. "And...I'm sorry. I should have listened to you when-"

"Nope, nuh-uh, no more apologies!" Jake snapped. He split away toward his own bed, tossing dirty shirts and stray materials into his own suitcase. "I'm sorry, you're sorry, everybody's sorry, enough already. Only thing I'm worried about right now is finally getting out of these goth clothes. I don't know how y'all ever get used to them, I swear I've had a wedgie for the past-"

"Are you excited?"

He looked back at Harry, his hand buried in the cluttered mess of his suitcase. "Excited for what?"

Harry nodded to his haphazard packing with a knowing look. "Going home, being with your family. It must have been lonely, not being with the other dragons for months."

At first Jake wanted to agree. He'd felt far from welcome before Hermione had learned the truth, and even then it wasn't the same as when he'd been able to hang with Nerk and Haley. But then he remembered his moments with the DA, studying for exams with the Gryffindors and learning how to fly on a broom, and he realized that he didn't regret a second of it.

"Ha, you kidding?" He pulled his robes over his head and smiled back at Harry. "I had the time of my life."

---

The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he shall have power the Dark Lord knows not...and either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives...

Harry shook himself out of his trance, and Professor Trelawney's voice faded away.

The sun blared and birds chirped as he shuffled along with the crowd of students. Ahead Harry could see the train platform with the scarlet engine of the Hogwarts Express, steam already rising from its smoke stack. He absentmindedly ran a hand over his scar, which hadn't so much as twinged since the attack at the Ministry. All around him students conversed in low voices, and more than once Harry heard his name whispered in hushed tones.

The latest Daily Prophet and its recount of Voldemort's return was the only topic of discussion. In some ways it was nice to have finally been redeemed in the eyes of his peers, but Harry still disliked the excessive attention and gossip. Despite the inconvenience of it, he knew it was a step in the right direction. Now, the wizarding community could recognize the threat Voldemort posed in full and work to stop him. Their world had been changed forever.

And yet as he looked around, Harry realized that it really hadn't. His heart ached for Sirius, his mind reeled with the insurmountable challenges of his preordained fate, but there was still ground beneath his feet, still clouds drifting in the sky. The world was still spinning as though nothing had changed, and if Harry wanted to have a chance of living up to the prophecy, of meeting the destiny set out before him, then so would he.

He had nearly reached the stone platform when someone pushed him aside and toward a dirt side road. Harry stumbled back and turned to see Malfoy scowling at him venomously with Crabbe and Goyle just off to his sides.

"You're going to pay, Potter, just like Black!" Malfoy seethed, slowly drawing his wand from his pocket. "The Ministry tore our house apart, shipped my father off to Azkaban! All because of you!"

Harry answered clearly, "Funny, I don't remember putting that dark mark on his arm."

Malfoy's wand arm twitched back before a deep voice boomed just behind him. "I'd be more careful if I were you, Malfoy, or you'll end up right next to yer dad!"

The three Slytherins whirled around to face the towering form of Hagrid, covered in his usual skins and staring down at them through a thick head of shaggy brown hair. Malfoy sneered, "Is that a threat, you filthy half-breed?"

"Oh, no threats. See, I've been to Azkaban me'self." Hagrid leaned further down, swallowing them in his shadow. "And believe me, yer snake of a father deserves every bit of it."

Malfoy glared at him briefly before stomping away through the dirt. Crabbe and Goyle followed him to the platform, and Hagrid grumbled as they left. "Rotten seeds the lot o' them. I gotta say, I'm not sure I got it in me to keep teachin' kids like them."

"If they don't take your N.E.W.T. class next year, you won't have to," Harry said. He smiled up at the half-giant gamekeeper. "You're back at Hogwarts already?"

Hagrid nodded with a sheepish smile. "Well I had to see you off, didn't I? Couldn't let you go without making sure you had everything in order, so to speak."

Instead of the usual tightness in his chest, Harry felt lightened by Hagrid's concern. "I'm fine, Hagrid, really. And thanks."

There was a hesitance in Hagrid's grin, but the whistle of the train pierced their conversation and brought him to attention. "That time already? Blimey, Harry, you'll miss the train!"

Harry gave no arguments, and together they hustled to the platform. Joining the other stragglers, Harry gave one last wave to Hagrid and slipped into the train's narrow corridor. All of the compartments were filled as he peered inside them, occasionally receiving the same startled stares from before, but soon enough he found the occupants he'd been searching for.

He slid open the compartment door as Ron burst out incredulously, "That's bollocks, we wouldn't have even been close to winning if it weren't for me!"

In the seat across from him by the window, Jake scoffed, "As if, Carrot Top. The person who won the match is the one that made the winning goal. Oh, right...that's me."

"Oh, because carrots are orange like my hair, that's so clever-"

"Harry!" Hermione chimed loudly, waving him into the compartment. "I was beginning to wonder when you'd arrive. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fi-" He lurched forward onto the seat beside Ron as the cart jerked into motion. "I'm fine, just fine. And Ron, I don't think it's got to do with actual carrots."

"Oh don't you start too."

They shared a nervous laugh, and several more throughout their journey. Harry thought about sharing the prophecy with the others, but something told him it wasn't the right time. Instead, they argued and reminisced, joked and teased, and all the while an inescapable tension surrounded them. At first Harry was annoyed, thinking that they were still tiptoeing around the subject of Sirius, but when Jake even seemed lackluster while demonstrating his partial transformations, he realized what they were really avoiding.

The fields outside were beginning to grow sparse when Hermione said to the three of them, "Make sure to write over the break. Three times a week at least."

"Right," Harry and Ron both muttered.

She turned to Jake, who was staring out the window and biting on his thumb. "I'll have to learn how to send international mail through the post. That'll be exciting, right?"

"I was just thinking the same thing." He smirked and twisted back toward her. "But I've got a better idea."

Before she could ask, Jake grabbed his green backpack from the overhead rack and yanked it down. He dug through one of the pockets and retrieved two small, nearly identical journals. He handed the less damaged of the two to Hermione. "Holla, two-way medieval walkie talkies. Way better than paying for all those stamps."

She took the book with poorly contained interest. "Your Replitome? So then that one-"

"-was Stout's, yeah. Dumbledore fished it outta the Ministry for me." Jake shrugged. "It'd kinda be a waste not to use it, right?"

Hermione tilted her journal open, visibly flustered. "It's a wonderful thought, Jake, but is it...right? I only mean there's already so much in here, between you and Stout..."

"Good point, let me take care of that." Jake grabbed Hermione's Replitome back and turned to the first page. "This'll just take a sec."

He grabbed a handful of pages covered in notes and ripped them free of the spine. Hermione stared wide eyed like she were watching a murder unfold as he tore out page after page from her Replitome, and then started over again with his own.

Ron looked sideways at Harry. "Complete nutter, just like I said."

Hermione was aghast. "But...why..."

The used up pages crumpled in his hand, Jake reached for the clasps to the window and slid the glass pane aside. He leaned into the wind that gusted through their compartment and casually flung the papers out into the breeze. Harry shied away from the blustering gale until Jake snapped the window closed again.

He sighed, dropped back into his seat, and handed back Hermione's Replitome. "I don't need copies of what's already a part of me. Besides, who wants to be stuck reading the same old story when we could be writing a new one?" Jake looked at Harry. "It was time to let go."

There wasn't much left to say between them, and they had little time left even if there were. The train was losing speed and their view was growing more crowded with the buildings and complexes of London. Even though he knew it was only temporary, the impending separation from his friends twisted Harry's stomach into knots like it did every year. Trying to appreciate their last moments together did nothing to slow the passage of time, however, and before he knew it they were walking out onto Platform 9 3/4.

"Good afternoon, young dragon."

"Yo, what's hangin' G?"

A short old man in blue robes weaved into the students and their carts to walk beside Jake. He nodded to the rest of them. "Once again, you have my thanks for watching over my grandson Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasley."

Ron looked at him cross-eyed. "Lao Shi? You're joking. Are all the dragons short or something?"

Lao Shi didn't seem to hear him. "The Council is expecting us, Jake. We have little time."

"Yeah, yeah, alright." Jake turned to Hermione with a somber look. "This is it guys, but peep game. You ever need anything, you let me know. New York isn't exactly the most low-key place in the world, but you're welcome anytime. Even you, Weasley."

They passed through the barrier to King's Cross Station, and Hermione pulled Jake into a quick hug on the other side. "We'll stay in touch, promise."

"And Jake," Lao Shi interrupted, looking uncomfortable. "I feel I should apologize in advance..."

Jake looked down at him questioningly. "Apologize? For what-?"

"JACOB LUKE LONG!"

Everyone within earshot flinched and moved aside as an older couple stomped across the platform. Jake paled noticeably. "Oh that's messed up, old man."

They came to a stop in front of their group. The man in the khaki's, button-up, and tie planted his clenched hands on his hips and glared at Jake. "Well? Care to explain yourself young man?"

"Moms! Pops!" Jake chuckled nervously. "I missed you guys like crazy! And I can totally explain, see - aaAAGHHOWOWOWOWOW"

The woman snatched Jake's ear in a vice-grip and yanked him away down the platform. "You bet your patootie you will! And then you're going to your room, because you're grounded for the next year!"

"No TV! No video games! No music!" the man added as he and Lao Shi followed after them. "The only thing you've got to look forward to is lots and lots of summer school, little mister! Homework, reading, essays...!"

Before they vanished into the crowd completely, Jake looked back at them and gave one last wave of farewell. Ron laughed beside Harry, "Were those his parents? Merlin's beard am I glad that - oh bloody hell."

Mrs. Weasley appeared beside them and promptly gripped Ron by the arm, oblivious to his squeak of pain. "There you are Ronald! What on Earth were you thinking, putting yourself in danger like that? Just wait, when we get home your father and I are- oh, Harry dear, how are you? I'm so sorry about...about..."

"Thanks Mrs. Weasley, I'm fine," he answered automatically. She still looked at him with concern, but attempted a hopeful smile.

"We'll have you at the Burrow first chance we get, and Dumbledore's said we can take you to the service in a few days time." She patted his cheek gently and then hurried off, dragging Ron behind her. "Now help me find your sister! Honestly, the two of you..."

Hermione laughed after him before turning to Harry. "My parents are waiting as well. Remember to-"

"-write, yes Hermione, for the hundredth time." He hugged her goodbye. "See you in a couple months."

He waited for her to reluctantly drift toward her mother and father before pushing his trolley further down the platform. With his trunk and Hedwig in her cage, he felt like a wanderer leaving his home behind him. It brought a sense of emptiness that he felt every summer, and this time he wasn't sure how well he'd be able to keep it at bay. Yet when he laid eyes on the hunched, jittery forms of the Dursleys, it was with a surge of pleasant surprise.

"Wotcher, Harry!"

Tonks, Remus, and Mad-Eye Moody all stood stoically beside his muggle family. Mad-Eye glowered at Mr. Dursley, who cringed at the sight of his swiveling glass eye, while Remus and Tonks greeted him with warm smiles. They were the same ones that Sirius always found when he and Harry would meet, and Harry remembered the wisdom Jake had given him.

Remus nodded toward him. "Alright, Harry?"

"Yeah, I will be," he answered, and this time he really meant it. Sirius was still there, and he always would be as long as Harry remembered him.

He would never forget that.

---

And that's that! The final update will be shorter and include a pseudo Q&A, so if you have any questions or ideas you want me to address (or just any thoughts on the story at all), leave them in PM's or reviews and I'll make sure to include them! Remember to follow if you haven't already for the last update, and we'll conclude in a few days!