Speculations

All around the area set aside in the Forest for the dragons, there was quiet. The dragon handlers welcomed the respite, since dragons can be quite grumpy but they still wondered what was going on. They debated softly about it, especially about the Horntail. She was sitting on her nest, untroubled as could be. They could tell that she wasn't dead, which a couple of them had wondered out loud when they saw how still she was.

What worried them about it was the fact that the other dragons were being almost as quiet. It was a funereal atmosphere and it creeped them out.

"Hey, Charlie, any idea what they're doing?"

The two handlers were staring at the Horntail more than the others as they talked. It seemed to both of them that it wouldn't be a good idea to be louder than a whisper, even though all the dragons knew them. All the handlers had been wondering the same thing for the last few hours.

"Beats me. I mean, just look at her. She looks like she's meditating, for want of another word."

She did, too. Her tail was curled up around her body, which was upright in the nest as much as her skeletal system allowed. They could see that her wings draped over her legs while her head was extended. The dragon's nose was pointed toward the sky, with the eyes closed. Only an occasional breath released smoke, which Charlie was a bit surprised to see formed rings.

Huh. He never thought he'd ever see a dragon blowing smoke rings, of all things. The image of a dragon sitting in a chair with a corncob pipe had to be repressed before he guffawed and disturbed the big dragon they watched. The relative peace in the area was still creeping him out, and he turned to look at his partner.

"What do you think they're doing, Stan? It's just too quiet around here."

"I asked you that, remember? We know they communicate. They're all smart devils and I wouldn't be surprised if they're trying to pull a prank on us or something.

The thought of his younger brothers instructing dragons on pulling pranks made him grimace. Somehow, he knew that Fred and George would do just that if given the chance. The idea was so ludicrous that he resolved to never mention it out loud in their hearing. If he did, he'd be hearing about it from his mother and be deaf for the next day to boot. That and be the butt of jokes for the next week, since entertainment on a dragon reserve was sometimes where you found it. The fellow dragon wranglers would be entertained for sure, until something else happened to take the attention off him.

In fact, he'd probably have to ask his younger brothers to come up with something. It would only be fair, since they'd be the reason he'd be in that situation to begin with. Charlie shook his head at the thought. Sometimes there wasn't any fairness in the world. It wouldn't surprise him to learn that the twins started something themselves in order to provide for fixing whatever they started. In fact, that explained some of their behavior in the past.

There was a change in the air pressure around them, and they saw a faint nimbus grow around the dragon's head, which was still pointed toward the sky. A dragon's magic still wasn't completely understood even after hundreds of years of study. Some things were common between the different types of dragons, but everyone at the reserve knew that each breed had some things that only that specific breed could do.

Apparently, here was something else that a Horntail could do.

"What's she doing?"

Stan sounded nervous, fingering his wand. Charlie wasn't too settled himself, still feeling jumpy. He stooped to check the ground-based wardstone that fed this section of fence to make sure that it was still charged.

"You're asking me? I've never seen any dragon do that."

The nimbus grew in radiance a bit more before settling into a silvery orb that suspended itself above her head. She seemed to be talking to it somehow. For what purpose, neither Charlie or Stan could puzzle out. They watched as the orb slowly spun around with gentle chimes, then rose up over the treetops and shot off to the south.

The dragon's whuff after it disappeared sounded… satisfied? Relieved? Ready?

Neither knew.

"Uhhh, Charlie…"

"I know, I know. She just did something and I don't know what she did or why."

"No, not that. She's looking at us."

"What?"

Charlie looked up to see that the Horntail was doing just that. The golden irises in her eyes regarded them before one of the eyes containing them drooped.

"Um. Did she just wink at us?"

"I think so, Stan. She's gotten into that habit lately." Charlie didn't want to think about what Harry had revealed in regards to himself and his sadly lacking love life. It was bad enough with his own mother dropping an abundance of hints, but a dragon mother making plans too?

He couldn't stop the grimace from forming on his face. It was a good thing Stan didn't see it, or he'd have to explain that, too. Then he'd be the butt of jokes for a while and not because of the twins this time.

The Horntail puffed some smoke out at them and settled down on her nest. They could hear her making noises that didn't sound like anything that indicated hunger, pain, boredom or anything else. In fact, it sounded… amused?

"Charlie, I don't want to sound like I'm stupid, but…" Stan sounded apprehensive.

"But what?"

"But is that dragon laughing at us?"

|:-:|

Tessaies snorted in amusement at the sight of the two dragon handlers trying to figure out what she was up to. The flame-headed one was her favorite, even when she was not in the mood to be bothered, but the other one needed some work to be a good dragon handler in her opinion. He tried hard, she knew, but maybe in a few years he would come into his own. Too bad her favorite couldn't speak like young Harry could. She imagined he would have plenty of stories to tell. The ones she overheard about the antics of his brothers made her laugh in private and reminded her of a few of her clutch mates.

It was a shame that so little Speakers walked the land here. She had heard from the Welsh Green the handlers named Rhiain that Speakers were considered evil here. That was rubbish, they'd all agreed. Even Rhiain, as young as she was hadn't had any problems with her agreement. Speakers had a role in Dragon Hierarchy.

The news that young Harry was a Speaker sparked a discussion between the nests. The dragon handlers had always suspected that dragons had senses of hearing a great deal more acute than they'd thought, and it was true, but none of them let on that it was true.

The Swedish Short-Snout had a name assigned to her that she particularly liked. Being named 'Annika' made her feel pretty, she had confided to the others, but privately the others thought that being addressed as 'Dumb Ditzy Bitch' by the handlers on occasion had more truth in advertising than they wanted their noble species to have. She didn't even realize it, either, having no idea what that was or even cared. But for all that, she was an excellent mother. She even took in orphaned hatchlings and dragonets and raised them as her own. Some would come back to visit her from time to time.

It just hurt to have to listen to some of the things she chattered about all day, every day. Annika enjoyed seeing the British Isles and burbled to her eggs about what they were missing. It was when the Hogwarts multiple ley-lines had interacted with her physiology that things got strange. Swedish Short-Snouts had very hot fires, and it didn't take long to figure out that the large amount of medicinal grain mash that were fed to all the dragons had an effect no one really expected. Normally it was intended to maintain their health and correct the random problem that cropped up during a dragon's day to day life.

By nature of the presence of more ley-lines than in the preserve and the Short-Snout's hotter fire and body heat, the grains mixed in with the regular bloody meats and British apples to ferment much quicker than in the other breeds. The results turned out to be a bit predictable, but thankfully one fact made it work out better than it otherwise would have.

Annika was a happy, happy drunk.

By now, the wrangler in charge, along with Hagrid, had figured out the problem and adjusted her feed to a mixture somewhat more lean than the others. It was taking a good bit longer than they'd hoped to start working. Until then, the Forest was treated to a drunken dragon trying to sing things she heard the students sing.

Annika couldn't carry a broken tune in a busted bucket and didn't realize how bawdy some of the songs were. Unfortunately for the others, she had the prodigious memory dragons usually did. The centaurs had noticed and taught her a few more using sneaky means. One of the centaurides, named Kateira, contributed the majority of those. Some of the house-elves in the castle noticed and taught her even more from centuries past and just as obscene. The Head House-Elf, named Alfred, tsk'ed at them in a distinct British way but privately conceded that there was some humor in it. There was even a Goblin that contributed a few filked lays brought in from the Muggle world before sending a message to his uncle in Romania to have more waiting for her to learn.

Goblins weren't above pranks with long payoffs from time to time.

Annika also didn't have a filter, either. The others wondered how they were going to dry her out and introduce Harry to her. The handlers wondered if the greater ambient magic of Hogwarts was going to have an effect on her eggs before they hatched.

Both groups wondered if when the eggs hatched, if they were going to take after Annika in everything. If the hatchlings did, they were going to make sure their feed was adjusted very carefully. As for their probable singing ability, there would be a lot of earplugs ordered. The dragons were resigned to having to suffer.

Quiangya, the Chinese Fireball was a fireball, to use a term. She didn't contribute much and was possessed of a bad temper when she did. She was grieving the loss of some of her eggs, but oddly hearing Annika make a fool of herself trying to sing was helping her mood. Not so much for the other two, but at least Quiangya was improving. The thought of embarrassing a human Speaker with Annika tickled her rarely-used funnybone. That and she wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

The mother Horntail thought about all that and decided that she wanted to see that, too. If she was going to watch over the young Speaker, she was going to claim the prerogative to embarrass him too. No reason to treat him any different than all the others over the centuries. The young female he was with might help, if she could find a way to communicate with the girl. It was too bad that she didn't possess the same talent as young Harry. Ah well. She had harder obstacles in the past.

Some way down, Annika tripped over a stout root before she started with some song about a Scotsman's kilt. Tessaies groaned and tried to cover her ears. Once was fine, maybe, but not six times in a row and missing half the notes each time!

|:-:|

Later that night, the Headmaster sat in his office with a larger than usual tumbler of Firewhiskey. Minerva had been by to deliver her opinion on the task and thankfully hadn't discussed the points awarded. All the other items on her discussion agenda had been hit with all the vigor available to a Highlands woman in full verve. The portraits had found excuses to be elsewhere, even the ones that didn't have other frames to visit.

Dumbledore was of two minds on the verb 'hit.' He was unsure if the points had been hit or he had been. His resultant headache was bad enough that the Firewhiskey actually helped. As the Tournament ground on, he hoped that Madam Pomfrey had something that took the edge off since he didn't want to be reduced to drinking every day. If he did, then Mundungus could do his job as well as he could!

The aged wizard grimaced. As Plans went, his probably could had used a bit more je ne sais quoi in the works, but it was the best that he had at the time. Obviously, something was going to have to change. What, he was unsure as yet but he'd think of something.

Over his head, he could hear the Sorting Hat and Fawkes chuckling together. The both of them had been around much, much longer than he had been and there was no telling what had amused them this time. He lifted his aching head to listen to them.

"What? You've got to be kidding. The Potter lad was talking to the dragon? Never mind the stupidity of whoever suggested having dragons in the first place," the Hat grumped.

Fawkes chirped, the sound stabbing through Dumbledore's temples. The look that the phoenix shot him proved that he'd done it on that note on purpose. Damned flaming chicken.

"And you say that she took him in like he was a stray?"

A burble of notes.

"And got him to admit how he felt about Miss Granger?"

A crescendo rippled.

"Well. It's about time, I'd say. Although I've noticed that Potters down the line have been either stupid about seeing what everyone sees beforehand or stupid in how they did it or stupid in what they should have done in the first place. It must be something in the bloodline."

A series of rough notes. Fawkes started wheezing. The honking noise made Dumbledore want to throw up as his head pounded.

"Take a breath before you laugh while you talk and choke yourself again. You know it's true about those Potters."

Dumbledore had to admit that it was true, even if he wasn't part of this conversation. The Hat went on.

"Considering what Fate has in store for him, he needs her if only to knock some sense into him when he needs it."

There was a few notes, then a distinct breath, then more phoenix laughter. A moment later there was a glissando of notes.

"What? So it's actually true? Young Malfoy found that out the hard way? Dammit. I wish I'd seen that. You know I didn't want to even be on that lad's head at his Sorting? I thought I'd slide off from all the gunk in his hair. Reminded me of his father, his grandfather, and his great-grandfather. You don't suppose the Malfoy family have a giant vat of whatever substance they call hair gel that they can't use up fast enough, do you? And it gets passed down from father to son through the centuries?"

Dumbledore had wondered that, more than once in fact. He took another sip and grimaced as Fawkes chirped again. It seemed that the phoenix had been wondering the same thing but like him, couldn't come to a decision.

"Well, I'm sure Miss Granger would consent to show me the memory. She has the most organized mind I've seen in a while. Mister Potter is smart, too, don't get me wrong but he's going to have to be on the top of his game in years to come unless he wants to sleep on the couch."

Fawkes squawked.

"What? You know it's true. I said it about every Potter male that walked these halls. Was I wrong?"

A thoughtful chirp that didn't make Dumbledore grimace.

"See? No, I wasn't. For his sake, I hope he remembers the important dates in his life."

Fawkes sniggered. The Hat sighed. The folds that nominally denoted eyes shivered in what Dumbledore was sure was exasperation.

"What am I saying? He's a Potter. She'll be the best fit he could ever find, but he's still a Potter. Sooner or later, he's going to forget."

Dumbledore couldn't decide if that was bad or good and resolved that maybe he needed to schedule some quality memory management lessons for the boy. He could see the similarities between Miss Granger and Mister Potter's mother, whose temper was legendary. The Hat chortled again as a thought struck.

"Hmm. If she gets her smarts from her mother, then he's going to be outnumbered and outgunned for the rest of his life when they plot together. And his mother! Why, her temper was legendary! If Miss Granger who definitely reminds me a lot of dearly departed Lily Evans Potter, if she's like Lily was, young Mister Potter is going to need help."

Fawkes turned to stare at Dumbledore and chirped at a level most didn't usually hear. Some of the portraits had cautiously returned earlier found themselves wincing in pain.

"FAWKES! Was that necessary?" the old wizard moaned as he spilled the rest of the expensive Firewhiskey.

The look he got was 'are you stupid?' The Hat chuckled at the byplay and went back to his conversation/gossip session with the immortal phoenix. The Headmaster decided that he might as well go back to work with painful chirps in the background.

|:-:|

Elsewhere in the castle, both Harry and Hermione sneezed once.