DRAGON'S GAZE
Something incredibly happy was bubbling inside Wendy's heart, like if a swarm of fluttering butterflies was hidden under her sweater. The ridiculous decorations hanging from the ceiling of the supermarket, the soppy song that was on the radio, the advertising interruptions made by someone who obviously did not know how to articulate, the strong smell of trouts mixed with the sweet scent of pastries, the used batteries bin, the vegetable shelves, the orange plastic bags and the hubbub: everything was wonderful.
She was walking next to Hermione, a hand on the cart, and occasionally let her gaze trail on their reflection on the frozen bank glass.
Their brown hair and their smiles were almost the same.
- "I suppose we should also take beans", Hermione muttered, checking her list. "They'd rather have only sausages, eggs and bacon, I know, but we will need something solid in our stomachs to hold all night long."
She took two cans on the shelf, then decided to get all the stock. They were a lot more people than just a family, after all.
- "Are we going to cook roast?" Wendy asked, piling up two sacks of potatoes and a net of apples in the cart.
- "Why not? Ron's very fond of it and he hates fish, that'd lift his spirits..."
Hermione realized she had answered more than she wanted and cleared her throat to get rid of the blushing of her ears.
- "Harrumph. Lieutenant Colonel Weasley, I mean. He's such a boor, one would have thought that he wasn't a picky eater, but it's just the opposite."
She pushed the cart in front of her in a brusque gesture.
- "Let's see... we need desserts. And chocolate."
Wendy followed her into the next aisle after thoughtfully weighing the leeks and turnips. She slipped behind the woman who was checking the different varieties of Cheddar, knitting her eyebrows.
- "Darren quite likes cheese..."
Hermione rubbed the tip of her nose, crossing her arms. Wendy watched her a moment in silence. She did not want to miss a beat of the warm and soft feeling snuggled into her chest.
Tied to a utility pole, the pony was grazing outside, next to a couple of bikes and an old motorcycle. It had not taken very long to get to the village, even with the precautions taken by Hermione.
Hominum revelio.
Wendy knew the spell quite well, now, after hearing it at every clod of earth. She had firmly held onto the woman's waist, her cheek resting against her back, breathing in the honeysuckle smell of the woolen pink sweater.
She wanted the ride for hours, but the pointed roofs covered with dark blue slates had appeared at the turn of the hill faster than expected. Clean walls, a flat road on which clanked the hooves of their pony, well arranged vegetable gardens, everything was perfect and peaceful in Glenegedale.
You never could have imagined that war was raging just four or five miles to the south...
An old man wearing a checkered cap had welcomed when they had dismounted: "Hey, isn't tha' the little missus from Killeyan campin'? How're these tourists doin' with the wild life? Is tha' your girl? Never thought you'd be ol' enough to have one this age! My, she's quite the pretty one."
Wendy had shot him a radiant smile before passing through the sliding doors.
The old man was beautiful.
The day was beautiful.
The supermarket sticky floor was beautiful.
Hermione was pouting over on a bottle of milk.
- "If we had a fridge, I'd have made some custard... Dean misses his sister's cooking."
Because they were both Muggle-born using words like "fridge", being there, wasn't not weird. It was one more thing they shared.
And Wendy did not want to break the moment, but the question came out of her lips before she could swallow it.
- "The Head Auror... he's your husband, isn't he?"
She had carefully avoided the words "Rose's father".
- "He was my husband", corrected Hermione, looking away.
She focused on the yogurts shelf.
- "But you're not fighting", noted Wendy, thinking about the sharp exchanges of her uncle and aunt over the Christmas turkey, each year.
- "Ron is..." the woman began – then she stopped talking, frowning.
Insufferable? A dollophead? Not the kind to bring personal matters to the battlefield?
He had been. But he wasn't anymore. But he still was…
Quick to say words he will later regret and slow to understand that he should have spoken up sooner? Clumsy, selfish and still eager to do his best in all circumstances? An adult man who always acted like a teenager in full hormonal confusion in the heat of the moment? A diligent father who tended to forget that fighting for the heart of his children's mother was never over?
She breathed in deeply and put four chocolate mousse series in the cart.
- "Ron and I are a perfect match in times of crisis - but it seems that we aren't able to refrain from arguing when the world is at peace", she gruffly explained.
Wendy nodded, but in fact, she did not understand. She wandered for a moment on Hermione's heels, silent, helping to fill the cart with food, lost in her thoughts.
A friendly nudge startled her and she realized they were at the checkout. She lifted her eyes and met Hermione's intrigued and sympathetic gaze.
- "Do your parents often fight?" asked the woman, readjusting her small beaded purse on her shoulder - she had had to dig in it for several minutes before finding her Muggle wallet.
Wendy shrugged.
- "No. Never. They don't see enough of each other for that."
The joyous feeling under her sweater was gone. Hermione did not insist. They loaded their shopping in plastic bags and left the supermarket. They were carrying so many things that Wendy thought they were never going make it to the electric pole where the pony was waiting.
Hermione cast a quick glance around, then opened her purse again and started to shove in it the bags one after the other, under the amazed eyes of the girl.
- "Extension Charm", explained the woman with an amused smile that suddenly gave way to a sad frown.
- "Very useful when you need to quickly run away - or when you're shopping on Oxford Street with your teenage daughter..."
She paused, closed her eyes for a moment, biting her lower lip.
- "I miss Rosie... and Hugo... oh, if I..."
She opened her eyes and mistook Wendy's appalled face for something else.
- "Oh, dearie... your mum's probably worried to death. She must miss you so much!"
Wendy took a step back.
- "My mother passed away when I was two. I don't remember her", she said abruptly. "I don't think my father would notice if I disappeared, he works all the time. And my stepmother's got the twins, she's better off without me."
Tears welled up in Hermione's brown eyes.
Wendy gritted her teeth because even if she was craving for the woman to take her in her arms, she did not want her to do it out of pity. She stepped forward, picked up another shopping bag and dropped into the bottomless purse.
- "It's a cool spell. I'm sure Terrence would love to learn it. He's always lugging around too much stuff, it'd be super helpful to him."
- "Wendy..."
- "It's weird to think we're Monday four o'clock in the afternoon", continued the young girl, forcing a light tone. "At this hour, if we were at Hogwarts, we'd be in class with Persnickety Pal... Seems like it was a century ago we were just students..."
Hermione swallowed hard.
She knew only too well that impression. She remembered vividly her younger self running away in an England devastated by Death Eaters, trying to achieve something impossible when she should have been at school working on her NEWT like any other student, if the world had been at peace.
She had thought no one would ever again experience such a feeling of injustice and helplessness after the fall of Voldemort.
- "Was it... was it like that too, when you were at war at the time?"
She looked up, surprised Wendy had made the connection.
- "On the radio", clarified the girl, chin gesturing towards the supermarket. "They say an oil slick caught fire near Islay last night. The Muggles have their own version of what's happening..."
Hermione nodded.
- "Yes. There's a department in the Ministry of Magic that deals specifically with this kind of communications."
She hesitated.
- "Wendy? Terrence told me you'd like to get your hands on a broom. We do have one, somewhere, although it's in poor condition, but I can ask Nigel to fix it if you'd like."
She smiled.
- "Seems you're quite the Quidditch player. Would you teach me? I'm no good at sports, though. I spent a lot of time reading during my studies and - not that reading is not a good thing, on the contrary, it's very important to read - but I'm thinking, I've been putting on weight lately and I'm still young so..."
Wendy grinned at the woman's mumbling. The late afternoon sun was caressing her face, sparkling on the carbuncle at her left eyebrow.
- "I'd love to teach you", she said.
The sea wind was entangling her long brown curls and playing in Hermione's bushy hair.
The warm feeling had rekindled under her sweater.
oOoOoOoOo
Under one of the few trees that still had some leaves, sitting on a stool with his arms crossed, a frowning Harry was watching the Aurors who were training. He had not noticed his right foot impatiently tapping the ground.
- "Can I sit here?"
He turned his head and smiled to the teenager leaning on his crutches.
- "Of course", he replied, magically pulling over one of the straw-stuffed chairs from the dining tent.
- "Albus woke up", said Terrence, sitting down. "But Charlie said he wants to talk to him alone for a short while", he hastily added, seeing the man make a move to get up.
He dropped the crutches beside him and pushed his glasses up on his nose.
- "Scorpius is a little better. Mr. Weasley was with him, but Lizzie kicked him out a moment ago."
- "Ah", said Harry.
His face wasn't betraying any thought.
- "I can almost walk normally. I'll be totally fine by tonight", Terrence continued with a hint of his former enthusiasm. "If I had been treated by a Muggle doctor, I would have been tied to a bed for a week! It's amazing!"
Harry only grunted.
Experience had taught him that magic recovery from an injury did not speed up the long process of healing the trauma it had engendered.
- "Wendy's not back yet?"
- "Nope."
Terrence leaned more comfortably in the wobbly chair and watched the perfectly orchestrated training, the accuracy of the spells, the swiftness of the Aurors almost dancing as they dodged and tackled.
- "Will we fight again tonight?"
- "Yes", Harry said quietly.
The boy chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment, then straightened up.
- "Why aren't you taking prisoners?"
Harry stared at him for a moment before answering.
- "Because…"
He looked for a better way to phrase his words and found none. His green eyes so similar yet so different from Albus' finally met the blue eyes of the teenager.
- "As soon as they're captured, MacFusty's men break one of their teeth and poison themselves. Without any hesitation", he said gravely. "Fanatics like that - or people subjected to a curse that forces them to do so - will not cease to fight as long as their leader's still free. This is why Bercelak is our target..."
He did not explain that making prisoners had led to MacFusty retaliating on the Muggles at the beginning of the conflict. According to Skyler and Darren, if they could get a hold on the old fool who had started this crusade, there might be able to negotiate with his eldest son.
But for this, it was necessary to overcome a major obstacle: the Anghenfil.
- "We won't win unless we kill the dragon, isn't it?"
Harry sighed.
- "Yes. We need to kill the dragon."
Terrence cast a glance toward the hospital and his shoulders tensed.
- "It's all on Al, then", he whispered.
The sun was setting down. Their shadows and the tree's were stretching on the grass. It was cold again, and they shivered.
oOoOoOoOo
Charlie sat on the bed and wrapped his nephew's hands in his own to keep them from shaking violently.
- "I'm sorry, Al..."
The teenager's eyes were staring at him like if they were hallucinating.
- "You don't know, Charlie... you don't know..."
The boy's voice broke.
- "He was crying so much... and it's my fault... I couldn't save him..."
Not so far in the hospital, Scorpius had opened his eyes. His fever was still high and he was taking in shallow breaths, but he was wide awake.
And in the dead silence of the tent, he could hear every single word – every single sob.
oOoOoOoOo
The Aurors were sitting in a circle. Some were chatting softly, others were content to watch the bonfire burning high and bright. Dean was playing a melancholic song on his guitar. Aretho was drawing figures from fairy tales in the flames with the tip of her wand, to the delight of the Scott brothers. Colchis was sitting cross-legged, very straight, his elbows resting on his thighs as if he was meditating. Dressed in a patchwork poncho, Lizzie was sipping her tea, holding her cup in both hands.
All were already dressed in their black breastplates and steel pauldrons. Shades of pink and gold were dying away in the vast sky above them. Only a few hours were left before dark.
Everything was peaceful.
Ron stepped over Nigel's shoulder and sat between Harry and Hermione. He had just brushed his teeth and smelled of mint toothpaste.
- "So, professor, what's Hogwarts last gossip?" he asked in a jovial tone that he hoped was natural. "Has Neville finally declared his love to Luna?"
Harry grinned. He took a sip of coffee before answering.
- "Oh no. You're outdated. If Neville marries someone, it'll be the school nurse, Hannah Abbot."
Ron opened big wide eyes.
- "Hannah Abbot as in that small girl from Hufflepuff with the round cheeks?"
- "She's not small! Harry protested while Hermione rolled her eyes. "She's taller than me."
- "Harry, it's not difficult to be taller than you", Ron sneered. "Your wife is taller than you. James is taller than you. And if Albus does a growth spurt like the one he did two years ago, he too will be taller than you."
He paused to cast an affectionate glance at his nephew, who was sitting on the other side of the circle.
- "By the way, Al's doing much better than both of us at the same age when it comes to girls."
Hermione giggled and Harry wondered if he was really pleased with this latest finding. It was bad enough having to worry about James' numerous conquests...
In front of them, Albus was pensively watching the fire.
Scorpius was on his left. The blond boy's expression reminded Harry a lot of Sirius. Malfoy's son had been allowed to get up, but he was still weak and they had wrapped him in so many blankets and shawls that he could barely see.
On Albus' right, Wendy was hidden behind Charlie's broad back, which explained why she had felt safe enough to put her cheek on the teenager's shoulder. Terrence was sitting a little farther, in between Teddy who was munching crackers – he was in much better shape than the day before and his hair was purple – and Darren who was wearing his cloak as if not to break the quietness of the moment.
Inevitably, despite the melody of the guitar, despite the tacit promise they had made, the conversations came back to the war.
- "At least these damn dragons are so attached to their island that they would never leave", someone sighed. "Imagine if they had flown to London, taken the fight to the city..."
- "I'd rather not imagine the old MacFusty asking submission to Buckingham on behalf of the Anghenfil..."
- "He really is mad."
- "He made the mistake of looking in the dragon's eyes", Charlie said in a slow, deep voice that brought total silence. "That is something one should never do. They can read to the bottom of your soul. And then, they change it."
His gaze was deliberately avoiding Harry's. Potter had stiffened in front of him.
- "What d'you mean?" Skyler asked, putting a stop at his carving a piece of wood with a knife.
- "Whatever is dark in Bercelak MacFusty's heart is controlled by the Anghenfil. You do not tame a dragon. That's the first thing you learn when you start working in a reserve. They are beautiful, mysterious, ancient creatures, and you must not let them look at you."
There was a heavy silence. Some of the men stirred uncomfortably, making the grass crunch.
Albus kept staring at the flames.
- "What about him, then? What's he doing to us?" Skyler asked suddenly in a harsh tone, pointing at the boy.
- "Al's not dangerous!" Wendy protested fiercely, sitting up.
- "He never tried to control us!" Scorpius jerked in quickly, clenching his fists.
Charlie breathed in deeply. All eyes were on him in the tense silence.
The sky above them was slowly darkening.
- "Have you never seen creatures or people spontaneously come to him? Or noticed that when he looks into your eyes - when you're very angry or scared or sad or lost - then you feel different? That is the dragon's gaze."
Terrence had turned pale.
- "So... the elves?" he muttered.
- "The elves were fascinated by Albus well before they realized who he was, because they were being attracted by his power", Charlie said firmly.
The flames crackled in the middle of the circle.
In the Hogwarts Express, an eleven years old girl was deciding to open her heart...
Owls were flying into the Great Hall and coming to greet Albus even when there was no mail...
Fetloack was wringing his hands, repeating that he did not want be "looked at" by the Great One, regardless of the honor it meant to the elves...
Draco Malfoy was standing in the corridors of the school, feeling his wrath fade away with no apparent reason...
Albus had not moved. He did not seem to have noticed the glances thrown at him, the whispers, the tormented faces of his three friends.
- "I don't do it on purpose", he said at last, with a fragile voice.
Harry wanted to get up, to go across the circle to punch Charlie, but Ron stopped him.
- "Wait", he mumbled.
- "Of course you don't do it on purpose", Charlie said gently. "But when the dragon-phoenix gave his life to save yours, he also gave you a part of his heart. And of his powers."
- "The ferret", Terrence murmured.
Charlie nodded gravely.
- "And Teddy. And Scorpius. All getting better faster than expected."
Some Aurors blinked, not sure they understood what the boy meant.
- "Dragons can't heal. They do not talk. They have no fur either. They're beings full of power and their gaze can change the color of a soul, but they are magical creatures – only creatures. They know their limits, but can never overstep them. They weep, but don't know comfort. They love, but can't forgive. They're brave, but won't ever be heroic. They feel pity, but don't understand compassion."
Charlie paused, choosing his words with care, aware the night was fast approaching and they needed to be ready.
- "What you are, Al, it's much more than a boy who's half-dragon. What came to you in this form is a different being. And he did not come by chance. He came because of what he saw in you."
The fire was shimmering in the green eyes of the teenager.
He seemed far away, even though he was sitting among them.
- "Tonight, you can save us all. Men and dragons. It's a choice you have to make."
- "I know", Albus whispered.
Far above their heads, the first star was blossoming in the darkened sky. The Aurors now understood what was expected of them.
Distract the enemy. Protect the child. Let him face alone the Anghenfil and break the spell of the dragon's gaze.
Harry closed his eyes.
Why was history repeating itself again?
An unbearable feeling was strangling his neck like a snake.
TBC
Next chapter: FROM THE BEGINNING AND UNTIL THE END