Chapter Nineteen
Forked
Viktor Krum had been busy. The other two of-age champions had their own questions, of course, with Cedric Diggory the most confused. He had related the stories that he'd had to the others and there had been more and more questions asked. Of course, it was his school so he'd asked himself those questions and got nowhere.
Dragons. Miss Delacour was intrigued with them after finding out that they weren't the mindless beasts that she and the others had grown up thinking they were. Only the Common Welsh Green one was able to speak French given the fact that there were many French operas that she particularly enjoyed. In fact, she was able to sing Florival's serenade L'amant jaloux quite well despite the fact that the translation charm butchered the male role in an amusing way.
Personally, Viktor didn't quite see it the same way. The things that made Rhiain tear up just bored him. Granted, the musical dragon knew a few drinking songs that he also knew, and while he didn't imbibe often he appreciated those better than the operas. The idea of a bar tab that big wasn't as appreciated, however.
So, considering that the young Potter shouldn't have been in the Tournament in the first place, then why was he in it still? He decided to find out and how better to find out than to go to the source? Cedric agreed, and so did Fleur, so they decided to set out to look for the boy.
It was a problematic endeavor, to put it mildly.
The students in the library said that neither he or Hermione had been there, which confused Cedric.
The few in the Great Hall said Hermione had been there, but not Harry.
They didn't bother at the Quidditch Pitch, since Cedric said that Harry wasn't there practicing his usual. When asked, Cedric shrugged as he pointed at the sky and said, "He's not practicing his usual performances of death-defying derring-do in the air and Hermione's not screaming at him for doing it, so neither one's there."
There was some kind of screaming there, but Cedric shrugged again and said, "That's not Hermione. She may be a screamer, but there's no promises of dismemberment and reattachment to do it again. I wouldn't put it past her ability, however, and I don't want to find out. Plus she has a typical sound. It's this..."
Cedric might've not even bothered with the description. Viktor's thoughts on what the other boy was referring to was rudely interrupted by the sentence with the word 'reattachment.' His English might have needed some help at times, but the implication had been quite enough for him to follow through to the logical conclusion.
Fleur snorted in amusement at the sight of the professional Quidditch player hunched in on himself. There were a few French curses that fit that bill nicely and maybe she would find some time to have a quiet tête-à-tête with the bushy-haired witch. The 'boys' didn't need to know anything about it, of course. In fact, she might have some of her jolies amies to help out with some other things as well.
After all, femmes doivent simplement rester ensemble dans des moments comme ceux-ci, non?
There was a group of students at the Dragon's Lectern – which was quite interesting in itself – but their quarry wasn't there either. Viktor did note the presence of the younger Fireball, who gave him a filthy look from across the length of the field.
"Maybe we can find the other dragons?" He quickly asked with a fair bit of trepidation while trying to hide behind the skinnier Cedric.
"Works for me, Vik," Cedric said, after a moment of shaken thought. He knew that the scarlet-scaled dragon hadn't been looking at him exactly, but he didn't like his present position. She seemed grumpy at the best of times.
They had struck up a friendship in all the hoopla when Viktor expressed amazement that Harry had to deal with so much. Cedric had shrugged and said he was used to hearing about that by now, before sharing some of the stories that hadn't gotten out of Hogwarts' walls. In fact, he had indulged in the Weasley Twins' betting pools a time or three.
Viktor was so amused at this admission that had he dragged the other boy to the Twins to arrange his own bets. Fleur sniffed at this and rolled her eyes. She didn't feel the need to gratify such silly things with her presence. The fact that Madame Maxime had her own money tied up in some of those things went totally unremarked upon.
Both Cedric and Fleur looked at Viktor.
"Vat?" His accent tended to come out in odd moments.
"Your idea, mate. We're waiting for you to lead the way to the dragons."
The Bulgarian was nonplussed for a beat then realized that it was reasonable. He just hoped that he didn't find the Fireball first. She was understandably still somewhat upset with him.
Apologizing to a dragon wasn't covered anywhere in the syllabus at Durmstrang.
|:-:|
Tessaies had herded Neville and Luna back to her quarters after taking care of the business that the Castle needed help with. She didn't bother notifying the Headmaster about his new personnel headache, since as far as she was concerned that was his bailiwick. For now, she had a few things to talk to Sturdy Grower and Moon Child about.
She didn't engage in any conversation with them, just watched as they walked ahead of her with their hands entangled. Tessaies grinned to herself. She could have flown ahead, but had she done that, there wouldn't have been such a sweet thing to witness.
Despite her fearsome appearance and deserved reputation, she really was a romantic at heart.
There wasn't any incidents along the way, although one of the red-edged children had nearly fallen over himself with that device to get a 'picture,' whatever that was. Tessaies could see that Neville noticed this and sighed to himself, but why, he didn't say. It was doubtlessly a very entertaining story to hear. Maybe that one would benefit from some draconic attention too.
Not from her, of course. The Speaker and Wildness of Mane was going to be plenty enough for her. Maybe Annika, or Rhiain. Quiangya was too strict for one of that youth. She might ask an opinion of the pair just ahead, after dealing with the other subjects at hand.
She stopped for a moment anyway and waited for him to do whatever he did. Tessaies shook her head at the way the child ran back to the Castle. All excitement and chatters, but she couldn't see to whom he was calling to.
Some human children were strange.
There was a glowing orb on her nest, the shimmer gleaming off the convexic surfaces of her eggs. The pair in front of her hadn't noticed yet, mainly because they were concentrating on each other. For some reason, Moon Girl was convinced that the encroaching darkness of her nest was suitable to pin Sturdy Grower under herself.
The Horntail shook her head. Humans could be odd at the best of times. It was clear what was on her mind, but it seemed to the dragon that the stone floor would have been less than comfortable for those without the physical padding that a dragon possessed.
Maybe it was a human thing that she hadn't understood yet.
In any event, she had mail to read and the dragon ignored the humans, except to tap a talon near them from time to time to remind them where they were.
Mother Eminence,
This letter will serve as a notification that there will be a duly assigned DMLE team visiting your residence to discuss the care plans for one Harry James Potter, tomorrow at 10 AM. As you are based at Hogwarts, we will be notifying Headmaster Dumbledore of our arrival as well.
Tessaies checked the date with a wave of a talon. Draconic magic reported that it was sent yesterday. She sighed in exasperation. Wizards. If they weren't silly in being unorganized, they were silly in the other direction. Consistency in this was apparently hit-or-miss. She went back to the letter.
Also and in a deviation from standard protocol, there will be two others in addition. Please do not consider this as a commentary by the Ministry of Magic on this situation. One of which will be Madam Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement…
Tessaies nodded. That was a name that she recognized, although why she was included didn't make sense.
...and one other, whose identity was not revealed to this department but was included under Madam Bones' authority in her role as Head. As such, we bear no responsibilities for the inclusion or actions of this mystery person. However, we are duty-bound to inform you of this matter and this letter discharges that obligation.
Who was this fourth person? The thought rolled around her mind. Annika would be attending this meeting. Her mental talents would be needed, again, and Tessaies hoped that her talents for disruption would be set aside.
Madam Bones will also serve as the Ministry's point of contact in this matter. At the time of this meeting, please provide her with all relevant documents regarding the health, lodgings, and care plan for Harry James Potter, and the relevant documents regarding your citizenship in Magical Britain, your suitability and five references as caregiver, and medical records to ascertain your physical, mental, emotional, and financial health.
We wish you well in your endeavour and thank you for being willing to undertake care for the lesser-advantaged in Magical Britain.
Wilma Firerock
Director
Magical Children's Welfare
The Horntail stared at the letter. Surely, they could not be serious? All Ministry interactions between herself, her dragons, and any other dragons that visited for the guest lecture came under the purview of the Dragonborne Treaties and Treatises sub-department, and went to the attention of Philo McClemont.
Another exasperated sign escaped her. Philo was a wonderful man, for a human. He was still having trouble getting used to the idea of conversant dragons, but unlike a great deal of the other wizards and witches, he was trying his hardest. Quiangya had gotten along with him well, especially when he had introduced her to hot peppers.
The surprise in the Fireball's eyes before she had practically scarfed down shovelfuls had encouraged Tessaies to seek out Dumbledore and ask about getting more or perhaps a place on the grounds to grow more. That had led to a winding path to Sturdy Grower, which should have been obvious but in her defense, she had been busy. Hagrid seemed interested, too, but judging from the expressions on the faces of a few of the students this was something not to look forward to.
Speaking of Sturdy Grower, he and Moon Girl was making too much noise in their corner and that was ruining her concentration.
A tiny puff of flame twenty feet over their heads splattered off the stone walls, and they sat up quickly, blushing and brushing off the dirt. She looked at them.
"Do either of you know how to take dictation?"
Neville looked at Luna with an unreadable glance, or so he thought. Tessaies rolled her slightly glowing eyes. Drakons. Always thinking with the wrong head.
Luna stood up.
"I do!"
"Would you be so kind as to take a letter for me? My usual method will leave me sluggish, and I will need my wits about me. It must be delivered post-haste. Within the hour, if possible."
"Of course, Mother Eminence."
She rummaged around a small bag that had been set aside for a moment and pulled out several parchments, an ink pot, and a frankly fluffy quill. Tessaies looked at it.
"Is that what I think it is?"
Luna smiled.
"A feather from a Neuerurvogel? Of course."
Listening, Neville could feel his tongue seizing up in sympathy as he tried to repeat it to himself, but the name of whatever it was flowed from Luna's lips in a liquid stream of syllabic motion.
"How about that," the Horntail mused, but didn't explain any further. She waited for Luna to get set up and nod at her.
"Dear Philo..."
|:-:|
It was a stroke of bad luck on their quest. They needed a dragon, but they hadn't expected this. Viktor turned a corner and found himself face-to-face with Quiangya, who looked like she had been waiting for him to stumble right where she wanted him. There was a rustle of motion behind him and from the sudden chill it felt very much like Cedric and Fleur had dived off to opposite directions away from their spots following behind him.
"Um… I'm very sorry?" It was a bit weak, considering the way his throat had suddenly closed up.
From the look in her eye and the puffing smoke streaming from her nostrils, he needed to say much more very quickly. Her very strict voice rang out, bracing Viktor to a very stiff position of attention.
"We have much to discuss, Viktor Krum. I am very, very displeased with you!"
Viktor gulped.
|:-:|
Among all the other things that had warped Albus Dumbledore's view of the world was this latest thing. He'd just found himself conversing with a dragon, Rhiain specifically, about a very undetected imposter in Hogwarts. Rhiain had related everything that she had witnessed of the interrogation and afterwards he was glad that dragons hadn't yet decided to find a way to make use of pensieves. At least Rhiain had the foresight to have comfortable chairs in her Quarters.
"You're saying that the imposter was a supposed dead man named Bartemius Crouch, Junior, Miss Rhiain?"
"That is correct, Headmaster. He was a marked Death Eater, as I think you call his group."
Dumbledore winced. 'Group' was a trite single word that didn't have the sheer power of disgust that he would have used to describe them, but as Rhiain was a lady he did not want to descend to that kind of language. Well, she was a dragon, but Dumbledore figured that it was better to be courteous. She was a mother, after all.
There surely wasn't many 'ladies' he knew personally that could snip him in half with a snap of her jaws and burn him to ash, a further reflection within his mind had noted. Some came close, but not like this.
The calm relating of the actions of young Mister Longbottom and Miss Lovegood and Rhiain's observations of those did make him wish that dragons used pensieves, regardless of his earlier thoughts on the matter. He tried not to think about the fact that the presence of dragons and the things they did was making him think so many contradictory things in close proximity to each other. It was tiring and he debated asking the portraits in his office if they'd had to deal with this before.
"And you think that they formed some kind of bond?"
"I'm sure of it, Headmaster," Rhiain sang happily. It was spoken, of course, but he'd noticed that she tended to sound like she was singing whatever she had to say. It was calming, actually. Maybe he could get her to help with the never-ending angst of a large group of teenagers.
"Do you have any speculation on what kind of bond?"
"A few. I could see their magics interlace with each other. It was as though the situation that they were in and the emotions that… person… brought up was turning out the magics of Longbottom and Lovegood into a woven 'tartan' of such strength and durability that there would be no victors among those who would oppose them."
A white eyebrow rose at the dragon's speech. He'd caught the pause as she obviously had been searching for a suitable word. As he was paying her courtesy, she wanted to return it without coarse language. He appreciated that, but he was quite sure that not using coarse language right now in her presence was not as easy as it had been before she asked to speak to him.
The purple hues of her eyes stared at him, the unhappiness evident by the darkness in the depths.
"What do you think about this bond?"
The darkness was brightening into a light violet at this question and she grinned. He tried not to think about the sight of the razor-sharp teeth this presented to him. At his age, that was something that could easier lead to an embarrassment for him.
"It's wonderful! He's my favorite, you know," she confided. Dumbledore didn't realize that and wondered how that was going to affect things for the rest of Neville Longbottom's life. It was something that he was questioning now. How was Augusta Longbottom, a fiery dragon herself (not that he was brave enough to actually say that within the range of her hearing) going to handle Neville befriending an actual dragon?
It was something that he was going to have to think about later and he was trying not to think about who else had been befriended and why. Too much of that line of thought and he would be trying to raid Minerva's hidden liquor cabinet. Too much of that and he would be seeing triple again.
"So, this was brought to your attention by the Castle herself?"
"Yes. She said that she had had quite enough. You have some groveling to do, so don't tarry. Hogwarts is upset enough."
He stared at her, nonplussed. There had been many things that he'd done in his long life, but this was something completely out of his experience. Considering what he'd been dealing with since the First Task, this was saying something. He couldn't help but wonder one thing, among all the rest, in the depths of his mind.
How exactly did one go about groveling before a magical castle?
|:-:|
Tracey Davis was wondering things herself. Why was she given the dragon name 'Quietly Trapping?' It had been something that she had puzzled over. Daphne's name was evident, of course. Hers? What had the dragons been thinking?
Okay, she didn't make a lot of waves in the Slytherin space of Hogwarts. Too many braggarts, one in particular. That one came to mind all too easily and she grimaced at the thought. Or in class. She took her notes, watched her class lectures, and did her assignments. If it weren't for the clearly written name on her parchments, Tracey would think that even her professors would forget it. Easily, too. Or outside on the grounds.
Okay, that was understandable. She'd rather stay inside where it was warmer, more or less. She and snow didn't really get along, no matter what others thought. They had an understanding. Snow didn't get on her and she didn't bother with making snowmen.
So why was she outside?
It was a question that she was asking herself until she turned around the edge of the Castle's walls and saw an odd sight, even for the things that happened at Hogwarts.
Annika was dancing.
Tracey was surprised, as were the other students gathered around. Annika couldn't really sing even for trying, this was true, but her dancing was better. The sinuous waves of a dragon's skeletal system and the strong muscles helped. The flow that translated to a powerful flight and a lithe swim also applied to such things as dancing.
Unfortunately for the Short-Snout, 'better' was a relative term.
Rhiain was the much better singer, this was true, but there wasn't another dancer in the 'troupe,' so to speak. Tessaies wouldn't do it because she had an image to uphold as the Mother Eminence, and Quiangya didn't see the sense in it. It was all silliness to her.
Tracey saw that the Weasley Twins had 'appropriated' a stereo from somewhere and it was hooked up to the largest… whatever that was… she'd ever seen. She couldn't even be sure that whatever that was that she heard was even music!
"What's going on out there? What in the world is she doing?" she inquired of a nearby Hufflepuff watching.
"They're teaching her a few dances."
"That's a dance?"
"Something called 'the Vogue.'
"Where in Merlin's Ratty Beard did they learn that?"
"Well, some of the muggleborn taught them and apparently they're teaching her."
Tracey could see the Twins now, mirroring the apparently happy dragon. It was an odd sight. Off to the side she could see Professor McGonagall watching the spectacle and shaking her head. There was a distinct sigh coming from her that Tracey couldn't remember having ever seen the stern woman ever releasing.
The music changed and the trio stopped for a moment to listen. It was a peppy song and the three looked like they were suffering agonies from the Cruciatus. Tracey looked at her companion, but the Hufflepuff looked unconcerned.
"Is that a… dance?"
"That's the funky chicken and the Jiggy."
"That's the… what?"
"Well, as much as she can do. It looks like the wings help, actually. I wonder who taught the Twins that?"
Tracey Davis watched in amazement. This was dancing? She didn't see why the school's healer didn't come out and check for something wrong with their brains or something. The Slytherin would have been aghast to know that at that moment, the aforementioned Madam Pomfrey was currently dancing around herself in the empty Hospital Wing, listening to the music from outside and stepping a lot more smoothly.
They watched for a moment until the music came to an end and they paused for whatever the next song would be. Tracey wondered what Fred (she thought) was doing at the liberated stereo. He fiddled with something and searched the growing crowd for a face, which happened to be the Hufflepuff next to her. An upturned thumb elicited a smile from the girl and Tracey wondered what was going to happen this time.
"Excuse me, that's my cue. It's my turn."
The girl bounded out without further explanation, with several others following her after a moment. Annika saw them approach and clapped her talons together in excitement. The Twins winced at the sound it created but the dragon didn't notice.
Tracey found herself wandering until she was standing next to Professor McGonagall.
"Professor… What…"
"What is going on? They're dancing."
The look on the elderly woman's face reflected her thoughts on that activity.
"But… that's dancing?"
"Of a sort, I suppose."
Neither reflected on the fact that there was a multi-ton dragon participating, as there was enough mind-bending things in the recent past to be going on with.
"They don't look like they're doing anything."
"I wouldn't be surprised if the Twins have messed something up. I sincerely hope that whoever that device belongs to gets it back in working order."
Tracey looked up. She could hear the sarcasm in the professor's voice.
"Er… working in what manner?"
Professor McGonagall declined to answer that question with a quick glance at the Slytherin. Tracey shut up.
She looked at the dancers. Was that the right word? They seemed to be arranging themselves as Fred (or was it George?) did something and scuttled back to a place next to his brother.
The music started and the Hufflepuff seemed to be leading them through a dance with everyone, even Annika, lined up. The dragon was well back from the others to be safe, but that didn't seem to bother her. Tracey listened to the lyrics, but it was confusing.
Well, the whole thing was confusing, to be honest.
Something about 'burn my clothes when I'm gone' from the male singer. Then 'joke about me on the phone?' What was a phone? She'd have to ask her mother.
The group proceeded through what apparently was the routine for whatever this was. It was intriguing, and Tracey Davis was rooted to the spot. She had to know more about what this was – minus the dragon, of course – and what was going on. She felt snared by her questions until she could find out more and plan out what to do next.
It was uncomfortably close to what she did with the idiot boys that thought they could outwit her when she had some information that they wanted. Tracey realized that now she knew what the 'trapping' part of her dragon name meant. She did the exact same thing to others but without them knowing it until it was too late.
|:-:|
"Zink he'll get on her good side by doing this?"
"Dunno, Fleur. I hope so, for his sake," Cedric murmured. What went unspoken between the two was that they hoped not to get on the bad sides of their respective erstwhile dragon opponents, if this was the result.
They were watching Viktor Krum push a squeaky-wheeled metal wheelbarrow full of gravel toward his destination, which was Quiangya's nest. It was the ninth such load, and judging from the sweat that had popped out on his face and spread throughout his discarded robes, each load had been very heavy. She had informed him that he was to spread the gravel around and throughout her nest – by hand. Viktor had to very carefully move the eggs by thick gloved hand and arrange them just so according to her directions. She was very exacting and examined his work with a precision that reminded him of the Arithmancy Professor at Durmstrang. He didn't settle for sloppiness, either.
It didn't escape anyone's notice that she had heated up each load of gravel after selecting her preference before he loaded it into the wheelbarrow, spadeful by spadeful.
"Say, what's going on? Why is Viktor Krum toiling away bare-chested in this weather? And can we watch?"
The feminine voices behind them seemed more interested in the sight more than the answer, and it was confirmed to the other two Champions when the lack of answer went unnoticed.
It didn't take long for the auxiliary branches of the Hogwarts Rumor Mill (the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang ones) to report to the main branch that something interesting was going on. It was shortly after the second load started to its destination that the interest had been piqued, and not too long after the third load had been spread out with all due care that the robes had been discarded at the gravel dump site.
Viktor didn't know that Quiangya had specified that it be delivered on the other side of the field from her nest and that she had asked the Weasley Twins to come up with something to muddy the field in between the endpoints. They had delivered and she took great relish in directing them where to apply it. They noticed that she had a large loop of ground that had no muddiness whatsoever. Going this way would make it easier to walk from gravel dump to nest, even though it trebled the straight-line distance from one to the other.
Neither Fred or George said a word about it, however, as Quiangya was humming to herself in a frankly disquieting way. In return, she confided in them some things that would make their prank magic more viable and harder to dispel. They thanked her and left as quickly as they could, swearing between them to say nothing about whatever she was up to. Some things were better left unsaid, and this was one of them.
Viktor also didn't know that by the time he was struggling back to the nest with his fourth load that his robes had been 'liberated.' At least Quiangya had arranged for him to have something to drink to replenish his fluids, but she was working everything he drank out of him six times over to make her displeasure known.
He had a new appreciation for the plight of many house-elves.
The watchers had been joined by a few of the Professors, who had been brought up to speed on the happenings. There was general consensus that Viktor Krum was going to sleep very, very well that night.
"And we can't help him?" some had asked. Judging from the smirks on the faces, 'help' wasn't defined as 'transport gravel.'
"No," Cedric sighed. "She was very specific and promised that anyone that, er… displeased her… would be directed to do the same thing to one of the other dragon's nests. Think about it. Who wants to line Tessaies' nest like that?"
The quick dissensions shut that line of inquiry down with all due speed. Bigger dragon meant bigger nest. Annika was well-liked, but she was a bit chunky, and Rhiain was slim for a dragon. If they had to, they all hoped that they got hers.
Viktor headed back with what would be his last load of steaming hot gravel and swore he would never anger a dragon like that ever again. He didn't know if he was going to be able to climb the gangplank to the ship tonight. The crowd of onlookers and commentators hadn't even been noticed.
|:-:|
Elsewhere, Tessaies was waiting on pins and needles for a reply. Luna had written out the letter and sweet-talked Hedwig into delivering it as quickly as possible. She would make it up to Harry later for using his owl, but as she had mentioned to the snowy owl she needed speed and silence. As Hedwig was a mighty hunter, that was exactly what skills that applied.
Right?
Hedwig had thought for a moment about her logical argument and sped off with the letter, but made it clear before she left that she required tribute later in repayment. Luna had agreed solemnly and watched as the owl ghosted into the sky.
Tessaies was amused at the whole interaction but said nothing. She and Hedwig were cronies where their human was concerned. Communication wasn't the easiest, since she didn't speak Owl and Hedwig didn't speak Dragon but they figured out a way. She suspected old Gleamtalon, the Speaker of the Owlery, had asked the snowy owl to find that way.
She liked Gleamtalon. The old owl didn't put up with silliness. The oddest thing was that Stórmerki, the raven that stayed in the Owlery to work with the old owl, reminded Tessaies of her grandfather. It was odd.
The Horntail shook her head to clear the thoughts and resumed waiting for the reply. There was but a half-hour before the visitors were to arrive and she really wasn't looking forward to this. She had things to do and this was eating up the time for those things. One of the guest lecturers for that afternoon was bringing an array of animals, including dwarf tigers, snorkacks, and a strange thing called a sloth.
The lecturer's assistant was a truly odd specimen she was always spooked by. 'Odd' was a good choice of description as she didn't know were this 'Ood' came from. Tessaies wasn't even sure it was an assistant, just a prank that the others was playing on her.
A thought wended up through the depths of her brain and she smiled to herself. Tessaies didn't notice that Neville went quite pale at the sight as she turned to a side of her Quarters and scratched the wall on that side. She didn't know why she didn't think of this already.
Neville and Luna wondered what was going on. The Horntail obviously had something on her mind and had decided to do something, but what? They could see the tip of the talon illuminate and trace flames the same way it had during the first task. There was a shape completed there, burning on the wall in an azure oval, and she stood there waiting for something.
The guttural voice growling through the flame surprised them enough to fall over. Neville knew he was, but from the look on Luna's face, she was simply dumbfounded. It was something that he'd never seen her be and it made him very uneasy. He couldn't explain it. He also didn't realized that he'd started to act.
He jumped up and swept her behind himself, even as the voice spoke on in a language that make his hair stand on end. The short conversation between Tessaies and whoever it was in the flames was in something that he couldn't understand but he'd only heard snatches of before.
"You called, my lady?"
"Yes, dherlec shakhacis, I did. You're needed."
"It's happened? So soon?"
"Unfortunately."
"Wonderful. Lovely." From the sarcasm in the voice, it wasn't. "And here I thought all I had to worry about was that golden egg and who made it. I'll be there soon, with a few selected others."
"Quickly."
"We're on our way."
The flaming circle hissed out, and Tessaies turned back to Neville. A draconic eyebrow raised. She sounded very amused and impressed at the same time.
"And what was you going to do with that, Sturdy Grower? You seem very intent on protecting Moon Girl."
"What? Do with what?"
Everyone could hear the confusion in his voice.
"Look at your hands." The mother dragon sounded very pleased.
He did. The rune in his left hand, which was shielding Luna behind him was aglow, casting light on the stone floor and the curves of Luna's body. It was bright and everyone could see that he was drawing power from the ground. There was a slight pulse, and Luna was standing there behind him looking a bit cross-eyed. There were traces of a sappy smile on her face.
His right hand was similarly aglow with the same pulsing. What made him gasp in shock was the fact that his fingers were wrapped around the hilt of the Sword of Gryffindor, singing its welcome to him as it rested there. Its gleaming blade lit up that side of Tessaies' Quarters, as bright as his rune-embedded hand, and the rubies shone with the power that Neville was unconsciously calling up from the ground.
Had he not been so shocked at the sight, Neville would have been very afraid of the laughter of the very delighted dragon in front of him and all the teeth she possessed.
Author's Notes:
Fleur's comment to herself, "Femmes doivent simplement rester ensemble dans des moments comme ceux-ci, non?" translates as "Women just have to stay together in times like these, right?"
It's been a long, long time since French class and I needed help from M'sieur Google on this one. Rarely-used vocabulary fades with age, you know, and I don't really wanna say how long that's been...
