Chapter Fourteen
Remediations
Quiangya shuffled up to the entrance to Tessaies' nest. It was time for her to have a conversation with her old friend. She had a lot of things on her mind, Quiangya knew, but it was evident that there was a particular thing that she had been chewing over for the last few days. The mother Horntail had been short and snappy with all of them. It was getting to be a concern for them, especially since her fire was a bit hotter at the moment thanks to her draconic rhythm being at a certain point.
She scratched at the hollow steel post standing outside the opening to the nest and waited. The Fireball amused herself with the thought that elsewhere, the dragon wranglers were now trying to shake the screeching noise from that action out of their ears. She was wondering if she could get away with doing it again when she heard the now-calm voice from within.
~~ Come in! ~~
Quiangya paused for a moment. This wasn't good, if the translation charm wasn't working on the dragontongue command. She eased her way in, looking around carefully and wondering what had changed.
~~ Mother Eminence? ~~
Tessaies jerked her head toward a pile of… something. Quiangya wasn't sure exactly what it was in the somewhat dim nesting area. Some kind of wood, but not branches or leaves. She noted that there was a similar pile under the Horntail and her eggs, and she wondered how she kept from setting it afire.
The Fireball noticed that her Mother Eminence was fiddling with something mounted on two very stout posts. It looked like a sign at first glance, but it was two large runes carved into a granite slab. Tessaies held a talon up to her lips in a distinct 'be quiet' gesture, and Quiangya nodded. She watched as Tessaies tapped the leftmost rune with a talon.
Immediately, she could feel a change in the air around her. It felt familiar, and she thought about it.
"Tessaies, what…" She cut herself off, her eyes going wide.
"Useful, isn't it? Now we have a way to keep secrets."
Quiangya looked at the slab again, eyeing the details.
"This controls the translation charm?"
"More precisely, this controls whether it's nullified, and only in here."
The younger dragon thought about that.
"And the only one we know of that could understand us either way is the Speaker. Very interesting!"
"And any other Speakers, not just young Harry," Tessaies added. "There aren't many of those around and the one I'd be the most concerned around wouldn't trouble himself to be nearby long enough to spy on us."
Quiangya's face molded into a dragon's frown, which would have terrified anyone of the Hogwarts staff or students who saw it.
"Yes, this… what did Harry call him?"
"'Snake-faced bastard' is what he said, although the fact that Harry can talk to snakes and we dragons makes me want to think of something else to call him. I don't want to risk having any association with him no matter how tenuous."
"I'll think of something."
"I'm sure you will."
There was a moment of silence as Quiangya regarded the slab.
"How did that get here? I don't remember it yesterday."
Tessaies shrugged. "Something from the time this area was built. Some conditions were met for it to appear and don't ask me what those conditions were. I don't know if it has to do with just our presence or a combination of our presence and the Treaty being activated."
"Or something we don't know about yet."
The Horntail looked at her subordinate dragon in agreement.
"Or something we don't know about yet. We're feeling our way through this process just as much as the wizards are. I hope that we don't find that out at the most inopportune time, since there's so much that needs to be done."
"How can I help?"
Tessaies nodded over to the far side of her nesting area without a word. Now that Quiangya was facing in that direction, she could see a list on a large slate board. It was written in one of the lesser Draconic languages that lent itself to more concrete concepts than some of the more popular ones. Those dealt with more abstract and artistic ventures – something that Rhiain and Annika was more prone to use. It also allowed for more security. She looked it over and nodded to herself. Quiangya looked over to see Tessaies waiting for her comment.
"This is good for a start," the Chinese Fireball judged.
"Then we start soonest."
"Good. Now, what is that pile over there? I've wanted to know ever since I came in."
"It's something that one of the students mentioned early this morning. It's used for bedding for some of the smaller animals they have."
"But what is it and how do you keep from burning it up? It's obviously wood."
"It's something called red cedar and used for a lot of things. As for not burning, the little professor took that as a challenge. He devised a series of charms that interlock to keep it in that shape."
"That one named Flitwick? I want to snuggle him. He's cute and has nice hands."
Tessaies raised an eyebrow. Was Quiangya getting soft and not so grumpy? She decided not to comment about it – not right now, anyway. It wasn't something that she wanted to think too hard about anyway. It was hard enough with some of the things Annika pulled.
"Um… yes, that one. He tried those charms after some trial and error and I could feel magic reshaping the molecular bonds of the wood. The chips got darker, but the scent was unchanged. A regular wood fire and a few dozen puffs of my fire together didn't burn it, but he was sure to say that he didn't know how long it would last. That's why I have mounds of dirt nearby."
Quiangya looked. She hadn't seen those when she came in.
"Works for me." It didn't since she didn't think dragonfire would be suffocated by simple dirt, but Tessaies seemed to be in a better mood and she didn't want to risk changing that. The tip of her tail was still a bit tender.
"So try that pile and see what you think. If you like them, I think I'll ask lángoló haj to find some more for everyone else. Professor Flitwick would be willing to repeat his work, I'm sure, but I would like to repay him by teaching him a draconic charm or two."
"Will he be able to cast it?"
"Were he human, no, not easily, but as he has goblin ancestry it'll be something he can do. It's one of the magical overlap areas between our species."
"I see."
Quiangya carefully stepped onto the pile and turned around a few times in both directions. The gracefulness with which she did it made the older dragon feel clumsy, even if she wasn't. Tessaies watched as the red scales of the other dragon seemed to blend into some of the wood.
The Fireball settled down into the wood chips and took a deep breath. The Horntail could see that the other dragon was relaxing more than usual.
"What do you think?"
"I like this a lot. It smells nice too. It's different from what I know as cedar. We should get more and you should definitely do the teaching for us to have plenty available."
Quiangya closed her eyes for a moment and a contented sigh issued forth, along with some smoke from her nostrils. Tessaies wondered if she was going to regret her next sentence. There was only one way to find out.
"Or, since I'll be busy with checking off things on my list as I work them," she waved a talon at the slate slab, "you could be the one to teach him."
"Can I?"
Tessaies listened to the unusually enthusiastic Fireball and sighed to herself. Yes, she was going to regret this. She just knew it.
"Before you get all gooey-eyed over there, I have some information coming in soon, and I'll want to get your opinion about it."
"As long as I can stay right here for a while. I may go right to sleep."
Quianya was so comfortable that she forgot what she had really come to talk to the Mother Eminence about, which wasn't the things they had talked about.
Tessaies smiled to herself. She knew Quiangya had been concerned, but she also knew how to sidestep her old friend, too.
|:-:|
Arthur Weasley sat at his desk, thinking hard. It was not unusual for him to do that, even if others looked at him and thought much differently about it. One didn't raise seven kids and stay married to Molly without being able to think. Molly knew he was a lot smarter than he looked, but even she got distracted and forgot that at times.
The things with Harry had always bothered him. The boy's size, for once. James wasn't a big bruiser type, but he also wasn't a tiny doll either. James had been pretty solid and a bit taller than Arthur – if he wasn't pulling the shoe prank, that is. That had been a funny one, but one that he was glad Fred and George hadn't had the opportunity to know about, much less Charlie and his own pranks. He especially didn't want to think about Ginny knowing about it – she would break it down and use it for something particularly vicious on anyone who displeased her. That didn't bode well for her brothers if they made her mad enough. Everyone else, well, they were in trouble with a capital 'T' and maybe an underline or two.
He was waiting for a couple of visitors to arrive so he could keep his promise to Harry. These two were the 'trustworthy people' he'd mentioned to the boy. Arthur hadn't gone into law enforcement like the soon to arrive visitors had, since he didn't quite have the mindset or the fit for the job. He enjoyed playing with his Muggle devices too much.
These two had studied at both the Auror Academy and some of the schools of criminology in the Muggle side, and brought some of the instruction and learning back with them. They didn't have all the Pureblood ideology nonsense that some of the others they and Arthur had attended Hogwarts with did, and still had. They didn't put up with it and found innovative ways to express that view. In fact, there was that time they had…
His musings found themselves interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Come in!"
The door opened and he watched as two people walked through. The man was slim and wiry, and looked like he was fizzing with energy. His blue eyes categorized everything he looked at, even though this wasn't the first time he'd been in this office. The woman was more calm. There were more than a few laugh lines around her eyes and her face fell into a natural smile. She looked at him with big brown eyes that somehow had always made Arthur feel like he was about to be burped and put down for a nap.
He chuckled at the mental image and resolved to never tell Molly. There was no telling what she'd do with that sort of thing. Of course, after dinner every night he had to escape to his shed to let out a burp, so there was probably more to that than he wanted to admit.
"Stevie! Monica! Come in and take a load off!"
They did and Arthur busied himself with providing tea to them. He absently wondered what their reaction would have been if he'd given them something else, since tea seemed to be the go-to for any meeting. He'd have to ask Hermione later if there was anything different Muggles had and try that. That might be amusing, as long as Fred and George didn't get into it first.
Of course, that might still be amusing, assuming he survived the fallout.
They all took a few sips of tea, grimacing at the lowest-bidder blend the Ministry had available as they caught up with each other and the lives their families had led. Arthur could tell when his friends decided that it was time to get down to business when Steve's eyes changed.
"All right, Arthur. I know you wouldn't call us without a good reason. What's on your mind?"
Arthur sighed. He waved his wand at the door with a sharp jab at the end. Everyone felt the magic flow as a privacy shield erected itself. His visitors were surprised when he overlaid that with a Weasley family spell to buttress the shield.
"I've got a boy that's in need of some help – your kind of help."
"The twins do something they can't get out of?" The question was amused, but it was quickly cut off when they saw Arthur sigh.
"No, it's not the twins and it's not one of my redheaded brood."
Monica's head cocked as she thought about the way Arthur had phrased that.
"Hmm. 'Redheaded brood.' Taken in a stray or two, have you?"
"You could say that. You know how Molly and I are. That 'stray' as you call him, revealed some things that I feel bound to do something about. He doesn't have a father or mother to help him and well, Molly and I do what we can to help fill that hole for him."
"Molly hasn't stuffed him full of food, already? And for that matter, who is this 'him' that you're referring to? No, wait a minute before you answer that."
Steve had been listening to the tone of his partner's voice and caught the line of her thinking.
"Yeah, why involve DMLE investigators when you have Ministry Child Welfare to call?"
Arthur sighed again and sat back. He scrubbed his face with a hand and looked at them.
"To answer that, I don't know who I can really trust, considering his identity. It's important. He asked for a Weasley Family Meeting and this… stuff… came out."
The investigators looked at each other. Obviously the child felt comfortable enough with the Weasleys to ask for a Family Meeting and the fact that the Family Magic accepted him into the Meeting said something.
"Arthur, just to be sure, this boy isn't a Weasley?"
"No – well, maybe by blood but a good bit distantly. You know how family relationships are in the Magical Britain part of the world. Maybe that's why he was able to join in. His friend with him isn't. She's a Muggleborn witch, but the Family Magic accepted her too and she's not part of the Weasley family by blood. She's been at his side through thick and thin since they rode the train to Hogwarts for their first year, so maybe that's it. Acceptance through association."
There was a moment as they pondered that oddity. It made as much sense as anything else in that regard.
"Well, besides that intriguing item but not what we're here for, what can you start telling us?"
"Abuse, to start with. Beatings, starvation, imprisonments, being attacked by animals, for more. He's undersized, not like his father was in school."
They could see the line of Arthur's jaw squeeze tight, along with the tips of his ears get a bit red.
"For how long?" Monica's voice was soft, but they could see through the calm face and witness the anger thanks to the long friendship they'd had. Steve wasn't in much better mood as they could relax some of the professional mannerisms they had around Arthur, but it was still something that none of them liked one bit. The welfare of a child meant a great deal to them.
"Years, Monica, years. He was hidden away in the Muggle world since 1981 at not even two years old and had not one clue about the Wizarding world until he got his Hogwarts letter. In the years between he had to work as a slave – cooking, cleaning, yard work, you name it. Plus the beatings that left scars and marks, getting attacked by dogs, not getting enough food if he was even fed, having to wear clothes not fit for a scarecrow, and this is almost the worse: all that time having a cupboard under the stairs as a bedroom. No Healer visits at all and I'm not sure he's even had his childhood immunizations, come to think about it."
Monica gasped, her clinical detachment broken and fire could be seen in Steve's eyes. Those eyes narrowed to match Arthur's, although they were focused on him. Arthur was staring at a corner of the ceiling as though he could burn a hole there by staring at it.
"For years? How old is he?" From the sound of her voice, she was itching to ask who it was so she could start hexing, cursing, and jinxing whoever did that to a child. Both Arthur and Steve could practically see the whirring of her brain slotting pieces of information onto a list that narrowed down identities. They had no doubt that she knew some things from Merlin knew where that was going on that list. She was like a sponge, pulling in bits and pieces of things they had no idea about and assembling them into things they couldn't argue against without a great deal of brain sprain pain.
"He's Ron's age, Monica. They've formed a friendship."
She jumped up with rage in her voice. Arthur spilled the last bit of tea left in his cup on himself when she did, surprised by the sudden movement. He saw the exact moment that her mind made the last connection and the look on her face made him very uncomfortable. It was doubly so when he belatedly realized that she was between him and the door.
"Arthur! Do you mean to tell me that Harry Potter is the one that you've taken in? He's been abused? Tell me who I have to kill!"
Arthur stared at his friend and wondered if he would get away with stuffing a calming potion down her throat before she neutered him. It didn't look likely.
Steve however, took a different route.
"No need to wipe the floor with Arthur. He's only trying to help the boy the best he can, and besides Molly wouldn't appreciate it. Sit down, Monica. Let's see what we can do to help him, yeah?"
It took a moment but she sat, snorting like a horse that had run a long course. Her eyes locked on Arthur and promised him that she would bring the pain if he didn't fess up to everything she wanted to know and soon. He winced, knowing all too well what she could do it, too.
He'd made the mistake in his younger years of loudly asking for a demonstration after an unusually potent Firewhiskey. Arthur would never do that again. It had taken two days in a hospital bed and he swore off Firewhiskey for a few years too. She hadn't spoken to him for a month, either, and he hadn't been too sure that he would have survived ticking her off again. The Healer that reminded him a lot of Madame Pomfrey had put him back together and tsk'ed at him a few times. He hadn't seemed too sympathetic once the story came out.
When she was sitting and somewhat more calm, he started to relay what Harry had told him when Steve stopped him.
"Arthur, how long was your Family Meeting?"
"Several hours, why?"
The investigator nodded and dug around in a pouch on his belt. It was wizard spaced and Arthur wondered what he was looking for. That question was answered when Steve put one of the tiniest Pensieves he'd ever seen on the desk.
"Something new that the DOM came up with that the two of us and a few others are field-testing. It's like a solicitor's model but with time and relative dimensions modified from other pensieves, which is why it's so small. Solicitor models only do a little over two hours, but this one can do six and display that in a half-hour of real time. You can do the math on that, if you're interested."
Arthur shook his head and grimaced. There was a reason he had never been interested in the Arithmancy of time calculations. Steve went on.
"If you're willing, as Head of House Weasley, we can view your Family Meeting memory in this, then leave it with you."
It didn't take long for him to agree. Soon, the investigators had immersed their consciousnesses in the memory and Arthur waited for them to finish. He took the time to clean up his spill and refresh his tea. He took the opportunity to do the same for theirs and placed a warming charm on the cups. When they came back, there would have to be some plans made.
Steve sighed and his eyes were hard with anger. Monica looked the same way but with a note of surprise, which Arthur wondered about.
"Okay, Arthur, I know I said I could leave this with you. However, you showed us something that gives us probable cause to act. It can be considered evidence, in a way. We've got to talk to him at some point and probably soon. Can we take this with us?"
Arthur waved it back to him. "Be careful with it. Too much stuff goes on in this building that I don't approve of, but nobody asks me of course."
Rolled eyes met that statement. They knew that feeling, too.
"Tell us about it. Got to go, Arthur. You dropped a hot one in our laps. It's good to see you."
"You, too."
They picked up the mini-pensieve and hustled out after quick goodbyes. Arthur looked at the closing door.
"Harry, I hope we can help you with this, son," he muttered to himself.
|:-:|
Charlie Weasley was unaware of what his father was doing at that moment, and if he had any thoughts about what had transpired in the Family Meeting it was quite disrupted by what he was seeing now.
"Malcolm, I think it's time to lay off the Firewhiskey."
"You say that every time something's happened in the last month or so, and so do I to be honest here, but do we?"
"Would it help if we did?"
Malcolm considered that.
"I don't know and that's what worries me."
They had been watching Annika laying out in the sunshine chatting with a small crowd of mostly Hogwarts students, although there were a few Beauxbatons students and a couple of Durmstrang students there. Regardless of any school rivalries, there was plenty of parchments being scribbled on as fast as the students could ask questions and get answers. Annika was doing her own asking, and had coaxed one of the older girls to stand up and sing a song. It was lovely, although Charlie grimaced at the thought of Annika attempting it if the reactions of the other dragons in the past were any indication.
From what Rhiain could be heard muttering every so often, Annika was far, far from having perfect pitch. Both dragon handlers knew better than to ask for examples. They felt that the Welsh Green would be happy to have Annika demonstrate.
Now, however, there was a small flight of dragons on approach to the field next to the Quarters. Hermione had gotten the idea of setting up a sixty-five foot wide packed-dirt runway in the field with bluebell flaming flares positioned every fifteen feet for a distance of three hundred and seventy-five feet. No one had much idea how much space a dragon would need to land or take-off, but from what Hermione had seen from the formation landing they did, they didn't need nearly as much as a comparatively same-sized airplane. Their draconic magic helped in that regard. No one had asked the dragons, since they wanted it to be a surprise.
It had been, and Tessaies seemed pleased. She did mention that a bit wider would help and another twenty feet longer would seem positively luxurious, but as long as she didn't put on much more weight it was perfectly fine. No one felt it was a good idea to comment on that last part.
Now, Charlie was looking at the small flight of dragons that was landing on the runway and trotting down the full length in curiosity. It took him a moment to realize that 'small' was the operative word, as these dragons were tiny in comparison with Tessaies. A couple had landings that was a bit wonky and ungraceful, to be kind.
"I think that lead dragon looks familiar."
"Looks very familiar. It looks a lot like Little Mama. If it is, what's she doing here?"
"Your guess is as good as mine."
"Do other dragons know about Hogwarts' Dragon Quarters? We could handle those four, but no more. There's no more room since we only saw eight stalls."
"I don't know if they do know, but apparently these four know. Does the Castle make more if needed?"
"You're asking me?"
"I gotta ask somebody."
"If you're in the mood to ask things, go find Harry and ask him if he can come out here."
"Class is in session, you know? I don't know what class he's in, but would you want to interrupt Professor McGonagall while she's teaching?"
Charlie winced.
"No, I learned my lesson about that my second year."
Malcolm paused.
"What did you do?"
"Errrr, never mind what I did. It's really not that important, at all. All I'll say is that she taught me an important lesson that stuck with me."
"Oh, now I see. You want me to go interrupt her if he's in her class and suffer the consequences. I see how it is."
"Well, if we're right and that's Little Mama, she gets along with me better than with you, right? I don't think she ever forgave you for stepping on her tail that time."
"Well, okay, you have a good point. I don't feel like having to explain to Madam Pomfrey why certain parts of my body have been roasted before."
"You'd have to mention that it was Christmas at the time and Little Mama had just heard the chestnuts song. It'd be true and explain why it's so tan there and nowhere else, you know?"
"Oh, shut up."
Malcolm trudged off after a few more jibes at Charlie's educational misadventures, and Charlie responded in kind. Neither of them realized that two of the Hogwarts Dragons, as they were starting to consider Tessaies, Quiangya, Annika, and Rhiain, had been listening from a distance.
"This could be interesting," Quiangya whispered to Tessaies. The translation charm triggered but it was still too softly spoken for the humans to be able to hear.
"Maybe you and Professor McGonagall could have a nice chat about lángoló haj and his time here. It might be entertaining," she whispered back.
A shadow flitted across the ground and Charlie looked up to see Rhiain soar overhead, headed for the runway to meet the new arrivals. He walked faster, hoping to get there as she arrived. It took him a few minutes, as Rhiain moved much faster in the air than he did over the ground. She had landed and was talking to the new arrivals while he was trying to catch up.
When he got there, Charlie could see that it was indeed Little Mama, and she hadn't grown in size a bit. He wondered if it was a genetic anomaly in her case, then realized that the translation charm had accepted the new dragons.
"Hello, sweet Charlie. I'm so pleased that I can talk to you in your own tongue. Rhiain was just explaining it to me."
"Hello, um, Little Mama. Sorry, I don't know if you have a name and that's what we called you. How are you? And yes, I like it too, and I've been learning new things I hadn't ever imagined."
Charlie felt a little silly exchanging pleasantries with a dragon as if she had dropped by for tea. For all he knew, she had done just that!
"I like the name 'Kirsa.' It flows off the tongue."
"Kirsa," Charlie said, weighing it. He didn't know what meaning it had, but it was short and had a sweet sound much like the little dragon in front of him. "I like it, too. I'll tell the others."
"Good!"
"So what brings you here, and who are the others with you?"
He motioned to the other dragons, who looked at him. They were a bit smaller than Kirsa and looked a lot like her.
"These are my babies. They haven't chosen their names yet, but don't worry. They know I know who they are when they're in trouble."
Charlie had a sudden mental image of Molly yelling at the twins or at him for something they did. He shuddered and just barely noticed that the three younger dragons did the same thing. Kirsa went on, apparently not noticing which Charlie knew better.
"We're roaming around the countryside and had stopped in Romania to find out that you were here at this castle. It's a very imposing place, don't you think? Maybe that's why the Mother Eminence likes it better here. Children, why don't you look around. Best behavior, just like I've told you about. You're here to learn, just like the children here are doing."
Charlie resolved not to mention that description to Tessaies, although as a Horntail it fit a little too well despite her generally more placid behavior. He looked at the little dragon. He noticed that Rhiain had shuffled the younger dragons off to show them around. The look on Kirsa's face the moment they turned the corner clued him in.
"There's something else, isn't there?"
"Yes, sweet Charlie, there is. There's been a complication to the Treaty and I'm here to help."
|:-:|
It was a quiet day at a certain home in Crawley, without any idea in the minds of the residents about what was happening around a Scottish castle hundreds of miles away. Dan and Emma Granger had a rare day off together, thanks to the alignment of their schedules. They did make their own schedules since they owned their practice, but didn't use that to give themselves more days off than the younger dentists. They worked their shifts and lead by example.
So when days like this came around, they were thankful for it. Marie was a splendid dentist in her own right and as it worked out, today was a slow day anyway. There wasn't any worries about her being overloaded with appointments, barring an emergency or three. That had happened, of course. Every so often a kid got into a rough scrape or someone fell onto concrete or something and did damage to themselves in some form or another. It happened and that was what they did – fix the damage.
The telephones and pagers had remained silent all day and it seemed that it was going to stay that way. Dan heard a knock at the door and went to answer it. The sight of the people at the door elicited a delayed gasp of surprise.
"Well, there's a face I haven't seen in a little while! Come in, sister!" He looked at the badges. "And Chief Inspector now, how about that. Emma! We have family dropping in!"
Emma came in, wiping her hands on a hand towel and dropping it on a counter top before entering the hallway. The front door closed behind the visitors as Dan shook the man's hand.
"Monica! Who's this, another long lost relative like you were?"
The siblings had been separated at Monica Wakefield's birth in the sixties when Monica had been kidnapped from the neonatal ward of the hospital. The police had an unsuccessful search for her, not knowing that the kidnapper had been a wizard that specialized in magical human trafficking. She had grown up with a Wizarding family with a diplomatic posting to Magical South Africa that had no clue about her origins or her placement in what they thought was a reputable adoption agency. It had taken a random encounter years later with a grown Dan Granger to note the very strong resemblances for Monica to make the connection. A Muggle DNA test four and a half years previously was the catalyst to a shocking conclusion.
They had made up for decades of lost time together and felt as close to each other as if they had actually grown up together.
"No, Danny. This is my partner Steve Wilson. We're in the know, but didn't know," her voice lowered, "that Hermione was a witch." As she spoke, the partners traded glances before she waved a wand and her uniform changed to a Master Auror's uniform.
Dan stood at the doorway, scratching his ear in thought at yet another surprise from his sister. Emma was doing a pretty good imitation of a fish.
"Well, then. That explains some things," he finally said.
"Yeah, I'd say so. I didn't even know Hermione had magic until something came up that was work-related."
Dan looked at her revealed uniform and sighed.
"And of course we both had to adhere to the Statute of Secrecy. I had to pretend I didn't know about magic or even talk about it to anyone not living in the house, and you had to pretend not to be magical since legally – thanks to that kidnapper and two different bureaucracies – you wasn't related to me by blood even though we both know differently."
"We'll have to go to Gringotts and straighten all that out. I'm surprised we haven't already."
"Life gets in the way. So what brings you here? You mentioned work and Hermione. Is she okay?"
"As far as I know. It's been a long day, Danny, but thanks to lot of wading through all kinds of paperwork, I've found out that there's some things you and Emma need to do."
The siblings had done everything that they thought they needed to do within the bounds of Muggle and Magical law and Dan snorted at the memory of the cramps that followed all the paperwork that he'd had to fill out.
"More paperwork?"
"Not quite, Danny. It's something else that's magically related and not involving paperwork or parchmentwork as the Magical world would call it."
"Well, what can it be?" So much for his day off.
Monica chuckled at the sour look on Dan's face.
"How would you and Emma like to meet and talk with a dragon?"
