- "Granddaddy?"

Arthur Weasley looked up and ran a hand over his face to dismiss the torpor that benumbed him.

- "Yes, Al?"

He smiled at the little boy curled up in the big pillow and took the small hand laying on the sheet.

- "Did you sleep well? Do you want something?"

Your hand is so cold ...

Albus' green eyes, fringed with long dark lashes, seemed immense in his pale face. His lips were chapped and the wheezing in his breath was something difficult even to hear.

- "Where's Mummy?"

Arthur patted the messy black curls.

- "She's at the Burrow, with Lily and James and Granny. She'll come later. Are you thirsty?"

Albus shook his head. He looked around him.

- "And Daddy?"

- "He's outside with Uncle Ron", patiently answered the old man while helping the child to sit and giving him his medicine anyway.

The little boy took a sip, then began to cough, feeling nauseous again. Arthur settled him back against the pillow and rubbed his grandson's chest, slowly, until the end of the fit.

- "Your hand is warm", Albus said when he caught his breath, with an air of deep contentment.

But you are freezing, while the fever consumes you.

- "Toothless?"

Arthur turned on his chair in the direction of the dragon.

- "There he is."

The creature was now the size of a locomotive and Harry had had magically expand the room for the dragon to be able to come in. But Hermione had been the one suggesting the idea to add the magic ceiling on which thousands of stars twinkled.

Her lips pursed, Ginny had not given her thought on that, and it had been Ron, with his usual clumsiness, who had said out loud what the others didn't even dare to think.

"If Al is never going to Hogwarts, at least he will have seen this once in his life ..."

Mr. Weasley was trying to keep hope. He refused to think of his daughter going through the same pain her parents had had to face with Fred's death. As for Molly, she was as talkative as Ginny was silent. She drowned them in a constant flood of words, cooked tons of food and played with the children - Rose and Hugo too had ended up at the Burrow.

Arthur knew she was doing it to hide her anguish and her grief. Hermione and Ron took turns beside Harry, making sure he'd rest from time to time.

Ginny, when she was not under the influence of a calming potion, was in her son's bedroom and held him in her arms – and this was the reason why they had been reduced to drug her. Her fear and sorrow scared Albus and she wouldn't let him sleep quietly.

Plus, her animosity towards the dragon was so dense the stars would darken on the magic ceiling.

It had been six days now, since the night when the plush toy had been abandoned in the grove of trees. Some of the healers had said Albus' disease had perhaps been awakened because of the trauma, but most claimed it had no connection with it, and that only cold and snow had been be triggers.

All of them agreed on three things, however.

Nothing could have prevented the child from getting sick.

It was useless to keep him at St. Mungo because no treatment was possible.

Albus was going to die. It was only a matter of time.

- "Are you crying, Granddaddy?" asked the little boy, reaching out to touch the old skin dotted with freckles.

Arthur shook his head with a smile.

- "No, I have eye crusts, that's all. It happens when one is my age."

- "Ah ..."

The dragon stood up and came closer to the bed, diverting the child's attention with perfect timing. He gently lay his black head on the comforter, let his beard be grabbed, blew tenderly when small fists dug into his large nostrils. He pulled away slowly, picked up the child in the crook of his wing and climbed along the wooden pillar that supported the ceiling to a high beam on which he settled.

That was what drove Ginny crazy. From there, the two friends were unapproachable, perched among the stars.

Arthur did not try to stop him. He had seen how the creature was careful and knew she took great care of her fragile cargo.

The dragon curled his paws under his fluffy craw and folded his long neck to watch over the child nestled inside his wing. His Ace of Spades shaped tail swung lazily under the beam, blurring the magical stars like petals floating on water.

Albus was talking to him and, as often, it looked like a conversation. Except the answers of the other speaker were inaudible.

Mr. Weasley sighed. First, they had thought the fever made the child believe he heard Toothless speak, but he was beginning to think that the bond between Albus and the dragon was much deeper, much more mysterious then appearances were making it look.

Someone quietly knocked on the door and he got up to open.

- "Dad?"

His eyes widened in surprise.

- "Charlie? What are you doing here?"

Harry, who was standing next to the stocky red-haired man, let go of a bitter snort.

- "He came back from Romania earlier than planned, to give you a surprise, and he found the Burrow in this state."

Charlie nodded, preoccupied.

- "How's Albus?" he asked, looking at the empty bed in front of him.

Arthur pointed at the magical ceiling.

- "With Toothless on his branch", Harry sighed. "To think we wanted to ask you about the creature ... it's no longer our priority..."

Charlie threw his neck back, scanning the enchanted sky over them. He discovered the shadow of the huge dragon curled up on the wood that creaked a little and frowned.

- "By Merlin, what on Earth is this ..." he muttered.

The jade eyes split with gold opened in the glittering darkness and the dragon's gaze dived into him.

I was waiting for you, Scaler.

Charlie shivered violently.

- "You okay?" Arthur asked, putting a hand on the man's shoulder.

He didn't want his son to be weak in Harry's presence. The family needed to be strong to support Albus' parents.

Charlie blinked, stunned.

- "He talked to me", he dropped softly.

- "What?"

Arthur was frowning, but a glance at Harry surprised him more than the super sensitive reaction from the one of his sons who usually showed to be the bravest.

The young man was staring at his brother-in-law with intensity.

- "You heard him ?" he blew.

- "You too?" Charlie whispered. "Right now?"

Harry shook his head.

- "No, another day. Like a voice in my head ..."

Arthur did not like that at all.

- "Hearing voices, it was never good to anyone, Harry, 'he said reproachfully. "You're tired - Charlie, you too, after such a long journey. You probably..."

- "Wait a minute, Dad", interrupted the red-haired man, raising a hand and making a step towards the pillar in the middle of the room. "I wonder if ..."

From the beam, the dragon was still looking at him.

You're right, Scaler.

The voice was born in his head like a distant echo, smooth and powerful at a time.

Now you have to tell them ...

Charlie swallowed. He turned to Harry and Arthur and his face became serious.

- "There's something I must tell you. First to you, Harry. Alone. Then to all of you."

Harry felt a chill run down his spine.

Fear not, father.

The voice wrapped him with warmth and the discomfort subsided to this contact.

He looked up and met the eye of the dragon. After some hesitation, he nodded.

He didn't get an answer, neither a sign he was understood, but he was sure of it now.

Albus was not delirious. This was the voice of the dragon and his son, in one way or another, communicated with the creature.

In the hollow of the black wing, the little boy with the wheezing breath had fallen asleep again. He was dreaming of a wonderful boat sailing over the clouds next to a flying dragon, and thousands of bright stars were falling in golden rain around them, like a silent fireworks that had no end.

oOoOoOo

Charlie folded his hands behind his back and paced in the room. Then undid his fingers nervously entwined and stopped. He blew away a red wisp that fell over his nose and cleared his throat.

In front of him, they were all squeezed against each other on the sofa. Ginny was between Harry and her father, Ron was shoulder against shoulder with his best friend, Molly and Hermione were holding hands. Neville was the only one in the yellow armchair.

At the Burrow, the children were sleeping, cousins all jumbled in the grandparents' bed.

Upstairs, the dragon was watching on Albus, alone.

- "Come on, Charlie, speak" Ron said. "Why did you gather all of us in here? And what's Neville doing here?"

His brother nibbled his lips.

- "We will need his knowledge of botany", he said quickly. "But ... uh. First I must speak of the dragon."

Ginny's eyes sparkled.

- "It's him who caused all this, isn't it? I knew it!"

She made a move to get up, but Harry stopped her.

- "Wait, let him finish."

Charlie nodded.

- "No, on the contrary", he said gravely. "I ... I want to tell you one of our home legends, in Romania."

Nobody said anything, but from the way Molly shook her head, he knew she was thinking "why bother? We don't have time for this ..."

He cleared his throat again and focused on Harry who nodded silently.

- "There's an ancient creature, a dragon that nobody has ever seen - or rather that nobody can describe. It's called the White Shadow, the Healer, sometimes the dragon-phoenix, because it is said he lives only to die and give life to another being. They say it appears to children in need when the night cries golden tears ..."

A lump in her throat, Ginny was now staring intently at her brother, her eyes filled with tears. Molly, Arthur and Ron were leaning forward. Hermione was taking quick notes. Neville was listening gravely.

- "We don't know what it looks like, but I think it changes shape according to whom it comes. He ... this Toothless up there, belongs to no known dragon race and looks surprisingly like Albus' plush toy, isn't it?"

He paused, his voice slightly hoarse.

- "I think it is a dragon-phoenix."

- "Is he going to save Al?" Ginny whispered a barely audible voice.

There was a silence so heavy they felt like a lead coat had fallen on their shoulders.

Charlie closed his eyes, then opened them again.

- "I think he precisely come to do that", he said at last."

You have spoken well, Scaler.

The voice caressed his heart gently.

Keep going.

Neville raised his hand almost shyly.

- "What will we need to give him in return?" he asked slowly.

Charlie did not answer, his eyes fixed on the window behind the couch.

- "That ... what's the matter?" Harry asked, sitting up and turning around. "Why aren't you ... oh."

Ginny and Neville stood up too, gasping, imitated by the others.

- "It's ... beautiful", Molly whispered, clasping her hands on her ample breasts.

Her husband put his arm around her shoulders, very moved. Ron scratched his forehead to compose himself and sought Hermione's hand.

In the cold night, hundreds and hundreds of stars were falling to the earth in flaming raindrops, as if the heaven were crying.

Charlie pulled Harry aside.

- "The Fire Rain always comes the day before the last..." he murmured. "Tomorrow is the key. Are you ready?"

It will all depend on you, father. Will you have enough strength ?

Harry closed his eyes and addressed the voice that was gently pulsating inside him.

Yes, I will.

To save Albus, I would do anything.

TBC

(The next chapter will also be the last one.)