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Chapter 2: A Castle far from Home

A vast distance, for now, from the band of dragons there was a boy, tossing and turning in his sleep. He had unruly black hair on his head, and many scars scattered about his body. The most prominent was on his forehead, above his right eye. His life, since he was a toddler, had never been easy. As a child, he was forced to work hard around the house where he lived. He was underfed, and forced to sleep in a space most people would merely keep cleaning supplies. He had no friends until he was eleven years old, and the relatives he stayed with made sure to constantly let him know he was neither wanted nor loved.

Many nights, nightmares plagued his sleep, leaving him tired for the next day. Long experience at his “home” had taught him to have them silently. When he left his home to come to a boarding school, life was better in many ways, but worse in others. He had as much food as he wanted, though it took time for him to realize that. He had many people that wanted to touch a legend that had existed with him not knowing, not benefiting from for the last ten years; and many opportunities to meet children his own age without his cousin beating them away. Sadly, the lesson life had taught him was any attention was bad and would see him hurt. He wanted to have friends, but somehow only managed two; though they were close. Except when they weren’t.

Since he’d come to the school, the boy had found himself fighting possessed professors, the apex predator in the basement, and demons that lived only to destroy all the happiness and joy in the world. Last year, he’d been forced into a tournament, made to compete in what was almost a blood sport because someone else had put his name into contention. He’d flown on a piece of wood against a dragon, and survived both a maze a duel with a madman. When he made it back with nothing but a bit of luck, having brought a corpse that had once been a fellow competitor and student, he received no comfort, no counseling.

The only man that could have cleared things up, instead of being questioned, was summarily executed. A strange move for a society that had a viable truth serum. The boy was sent back to live with people that made a point in their day to let him know he was despised, and cut off from communicating with any person that actually cared about him. He was only let back into the loop when someone, probably the same government that had silenced the man that could have validated his story, tried to, and nearly did, not just murder him, but destroy his soul.

When he had been ‘saved,’ as par for the course, after he had dealt with the danger himself, he found that all his friends had been living together with his Godfather, (Who was only prevented by living with Harry all the time by the fact that he had an unwarranted kill-on-sight order from this same government.) hiding in an invisible house without him. He was greeted with the news that, once again, no progress had been made in getting his Godfather’s name cleared, but instead he was about to head into a show trial; as he had become a pawn in the chess game between his headmaster and the government.

Naturally, instead of celebrating his continued life-with-a-soul, he was moved into cleaning a house as apparent busywork. Now in the house, he received the normal amount of love and support from the adults around him, with the addition of a godfather who was not wholly in his right mind but was trying. No counseling was offered, no trip to a certified healer to be sure he was healthy after his ordeal. Just the knowledge that everyone who read the paper was slowly being convinced he was dangerously insane.

As the year had progressed, things continued to get worse. He was told to keep his head down and bear it as insults and hate were piled atop him. Just recently, he had been convinced to fight back, to teach his fellow students that were deliberately being left defenseless in the face of a coming war. Now though, his night had become a bit strange. His regularly scheduled nightmare had just been banished and now he was lucidly dreaming of a forest bathed in moonlight. He saw figures in the distance, blurry. He felt peaceful, relieved of all his burdens. Suddenly he awoke, with purpose flowing in his veins, rested and full of energy like he’d rarely felt before. Quickly and quietly he sprung out of bed and grabbed pants, no time for a shirt.

Stepping into the bathroom of his dorm, he called for his best hope. “Dobby!” What came when he called was a short, very strange creature with huge eyes and long, drooping ears. The boy, Harry Potter, was quick to silence him. “I need help, Dobby. I need you to go to the girls dorm and get Hermione for me without waking her roommates, okay? Just tell her to bring her wand and some shoes and to meet me in the common room now. Tell her I need her and that it’s important.”

Seeing how serious his favorite human was, the little elf popped away, much more quietly than he arrived. Harry only stopped to grab essential items, his wand, an invisibility cloak, a magical map that would help with avoiding unwanted interruptions, and shoes without socks. He tore down the stairs, invisible. Only a few moments passed and his friend came down the other set of stairs. Her hair was incredibly disheveled, and as she came towards him, him having tossed the hood of the cloak off his head, she was not happy. As she started to wind up a head of steam, he quickly covered her mouth with his hand and spoke in an urgent whisper.

“I need you to trust me. Just for tonight, okay? I need my best friend to believe me and give me help when I need it. Can you do that?” Shocked by his seriousness, she only nodded and slipped under the cloak with him. It was very, very rare that her friend was so serious.

It took her longer than it should have to notice that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. As her mind slowly woke more and more questions flared up, begging to be asked, but that would defeat the whole point of sneaking. When the reached a crossroad and saw a dot labeled Argus Flich approaching on the map, she was shocked when Harry simply pulled out his wand and sent a quiet stunning spell that dropped him instantly. In fact, she froze in shock until he carefully gripped his arm and guided her away. As they continued she heard him whisper. “Dobby, can you get him into his bed? Maybe do something to make him think he got drunk or something?”

Unseen, but still heard the small elf whispered back. “Mean Filchy will get to bed, no worries Great Sir Harry Potter!”

Unable to contain all of her questions at this point, Hermione blurted out the first thought on her mind. “What was that! That was so aggressive, just attacking him like that!” She expected Harry to start spluttering immediately, instead he just turned to face her calmly from where he’d been reading the map.

“I think there’s lives at stake tonight. He’ll be fine in the morning, I can’t let anything get in our way tonight.”

“Harry, if that’s true we should get a professor right now.”

The young man let out a snort. “Think for a moment Hermione, when has that ever helped in any situation we’ve been in? No, I don’t have time for Snape to insult me and a father I’ve never known, Umbridge to give me detention, McGonagall to dither and do nothing and say that Dumbledore will take care of it and then for Dumbledore to give me a long speech that says nothing important and then coyly wink and let me do everything myself with no useful help. There isn’t any time, just trust me for a little longer, please.”

As her brain continued to unfog, Hermione had to admit that while she didn’t like what he said, he wasn’t exactly wrong but somehow her mind started building small arguments against what she accepted as true almost immediately. This should have been a red flag to her, but somehow it wasn’t. Her mind became embroiled in argument and counter-argument and she trusted in Harry to guide her, having had a good deal of practice sneaking under this very cloak.

Eventually, the two reached the seventh floor, and came before a certain, very odd portrait. After one last check of his map, Harry left her behind with a whispered “This might take a few tries to get what I want, just watch the map for a few moments.” She watched him move back and forth, muttering for a few moments, no door appearing for a time, until the third attempt.

Quickly following him in, she was shocked when the room was pure black obsidian, something she’d read was used in certain specialized ritual rooms. Seconds after they entered, the door faded away until the only thing left in the expansive room was a circle that looked to have been carved in the floor and then had molten gold poured in. Around the edge of the circle was a complicated rune array, in a language she had never seen before. She watched Harry walk to the edge, place his hands over two specific runes before they started to glow. That glow slowly carried around the edge until the circle and golden runes were all lit by a gentle blue light.

“Okay Harry. Explanation, now.” She said as sternly as she could. As the glow from the runes became the only lighting in the room she realized that this was the first time she’d seen Harry without a shirt on. There were far more scars than she thought there should be on his back and arms.

Letting out a deep breath, Harry began. “We’re early. Okay, do you believe in life on other worlds? And that there’s probably some where the people live better and some that live worse than us?”

“Yes, the sheer number of stars, of likely worlds make that almost a certainty. But the distances involved are such that science still has no idea how…” Her head snapped around and she stomped around the circle to look in his eyes, his hands were still on the circle, not having moved yet. “Harry, are you, right now, contacting another world? Is that what this circle does? And what is this runic language?”

“I don’t know what language it is exactly, just that it matches another one far, far away that is about to activate. I was having my usual nightmare tonight, when it just stopped, and I knew I was dreaming, and then I was far, far away. I saw figures in the distance, pleading with something. I can’t really explain the rest, but I felt something touch me, and then I knew how to get this room set up.”

He looked up and Hermione saw tears in eyes that did not shed them easily. “They’re desperate Hermione. If they don’t get away they’re going to die. Tonight, I can help them.” Another deep breathe and he continued. “That’s all I really know, that they’re desperate and trying to flee. And I can help them.”

Many, many thoughts of how this was a bad idea flowed through her mind then. Yet, somehow she thought she could trust her friend tonight. Despite the dangers, there was an excitement in the air as she watched the cadence of the light flicker momentarily, then start to grow. “Was that it, is it starting?”

“No, but I think it’s started to pull from something now. It’s drawing power from the castle now. And something deeper too.”

With a breathy gasp, she connected the dots in her head. “The ley-lines! Seven lines meet under the castle, that’s why it was built here. It’s the most magically powerful location in the world. You must be able to feel something through the runic circle, can you tell how much power it’s going to take?”

“You’re right, I can feel something from the circle, it’s like it was made just for me, I can feel it starting to suck up as much power as it can to break through.” Closing his eyes again, he focused for a moment. “Holy crap! I don’t know how to express what I’m feeling, but this is a huge power requirement. Like if I stopped halfway through the castle, Hogsmead, and the nearest mountain would be gone from the backlash.” Not even seeing his best friend’s face pale, he continued. “And! That’s nothing, nothing, to what’s powering it on the other side. We’re mostly just receiving what’s been sent, I think.”

More trepidation built in both of them, though neither said anything else for a time as the light increased and an odd hum built in the air. For Harry, this was a great experience as he felt the vast amounts of magic ebb and flow, ready to be sent forth at his command. Then he felt it.

“Hermione, get back! It’s coming now!” Trusting her to stay back far enough, he directed his circle to grab the “line” for lack of a better term, and meld with it. A great light show caused him to focus momentarily on the center of the circle. In the air above, a circle formed. For a moment it was perfectly round, then it distorted into an ellipse.

Inside the ellipse there was nothing for a moment, and Harry felt like something was fighting him. In response, he directed more and more power through the circle, and called for more to be brought up from the earth below. Sweat started to bead on him as the air inside the ellipse shifted, warped, and then finally tore and suddenly it was done. A great rush of hot, humid air swept through, carrying with it the scent of dust and others unknown. However it worked, the feedback from the runic circle told him it was stable and would remain so for some time. He stood up, stretching his sore back and realizing he had nothing to wipe the sweat off himself.

As he started at the portal, he felt an odd sense of calm and anticipation flow through him. It was about six feet tall, and four feet wide at the widest point. The exterior was was a dark blue, cobalt some might call it. Inside that border, it was sky blue and slowly swirling. Looking to his best friend, he saw he standing beside him, looking hesitant. When she briefly met his eyes before turning back to the work of magic before them, she spoke to him.

“Well, at least it doesn’t look like something that’s going to bring in demonic armies or something such. It’s actually sort of beautiful.”

Grabbing her hand as they watched it continue to swirl calmly, he responded. “You’re right. When I stare at it, I feel calm. And there’s something else, but I’m not sure how to say it.”

Not looking away, she prompted him to share when he’d felt like this before. “Like when I was waiting on my broom for one of those early games second year. When I knew I could win if I played well, and I didn’t need to worry about being the ‘Heir of Slytherin,’ at least for a while. When all that stood before me was something I could accomplish if I played hard and worked for it.” Maybe Hermione didn’t fully understand what he was saying, but she could grasp the general idea. She just held his hand a bit tighter as they waited.

They didn’t have long to wait, standing there before the gently shifting blue light. With no apparent change in the portal itself, a mostly purple quadrupedal figure came through, stumbling on the last step. It seemed as if he was in great pain, as he didn’t even seem to see anything, simply walking a dozen feet from the portal before his legs gave out.

As he met the floor, his eyes seemed to track between the portal, the runic circle below, and the two teenagers standing before it. He briefly took in the scent of sweat before tiredly raising his right claw to his face and speaking towards a small stone clasped in his claw. He spoke in Draconic, not having any idea what language the humans might speak, and not rightly caring just now. Đ: “Come on through, just keep your wings tight and help Talion through first, bring all the supplies, especially the sphere. And leave the speak-stone paired with this one behind in plain view in front of the portal.”

Ignored for the moment, the two teens were gaping in shock. This was a dragon, albeit much smaller than the ones they’re seen the previous year. And it was speaking. Quickly pulling out his wand, Harry nudged Hermione. “Get ready to use a levitation spell. I caught something there about wing placement and maybe an injured one coming next.” Not even really surprised at this point, she had her wand in hand as a second dragon, this one black and what would probably be brilliant orange after some cleaning came through.

Instead of walking, this one seemed almost to have been thrown, but was luckily caught by the bare chested teen. With a bit of care, he was levitated further from the portal, near the first one that came through. A third came through shortly after that, dark blue with just a hint of a purple strip along it’s side. Harry quickly noticed the bandage on her throat that seemed to be leaking a bit. This one carried several bags and a pink sphere about three feet across, an odd item to be sure. Especially since, upon closer inspection, it matched a much smaller version around the first dragon’s neck. Fourthly, and last for now, was a purple dragon with the same colors and markings as the first. She was positively laden with bags. Once through, she sloughed some off and fell to the floor, breathing heavily.

The two teens could see the first one stand on trembling legs and check on each of the three as they now all laid on the cool stone, breathing heavily. Reaching the blue one, he looked to the filthy bandage in dismay, the light in the chamber revealing the dirt caught in it. He looked at Harry, having guessed him as the leader and then looked back at the filthy bandage.

Replying to that silent request, Harry muttered out: “Well, if that isn’t a request for help, I don’t know what is. Dobby!” After the small guy popped out, startling only Hermione, he spoke in a commanding voice. “Dobby, I need clean bandages, hot water, disinfectant and some towels. After you get that, I need some water for these guys here. Be careful not to startle them; they’re capable of speech but they’re not in such great shape, okay?”

With a silent nod, the house elf popped away. “Hermione, give me a bit of help with the throat wound and then start looking over the orange one, okay? And if the room can conjure books, give me a phrase that would get us any relevant information to help them.”

Finding herself oddly happy to follow her best friend’s lead, she nodded and thought for only a moment. “We could use an indexed collection of guides to treat injuries of reptilian magical creatures. Sorry, but that’s the best I can think of, these four might look like dragons, but they’re different enough that any specialized spells would probably be wrong.”

Acknowledging with a nod, he decided to just ask the room verbally for what he needed. Low and behold, a wall appeared laden with books, with one on a pedestal in front with a guide to what was there. Also a few drains, because he figured this was going to get messy. Dobby came back quickly bearing buckets of water and towels, followed then by bandages and then more water that he carefully floated in front of the dragons.

Four sets (minus one that was swollen shut) of eyes watched them mistrustfully, as Harry approached what he figured as the leader, towels and bandages under his arms and steaming buckets in his hands. Locking eyes, the dragon motioned for the most injured one to lay down, and gently coaxed her when she hesitated. “Harry, I’m concerned that the orange one has broken ribs at least, and possibly internal injuries. As soon as this one’s safe I’ll see what I can do. Shouldn’t we get them some help beyond the two of us? There might be serious injuries here.”

Sighing as they reached the blue female, he gently started to unwind her old bandages under the watch of the vigilant male. “Who? Hermione, Hagrid can not keep a secret for the life of him even if he was here. In third year, the Ministry wanted to kill Buckbeak on Malfoy’s whim, just to hurt Hagrid. What do you think they’ll do to these creatures now with Umbridge here now?”

That was enough for her to actually wince. “You’re right, other than a few students, who, once again, probably couldn’t keep the secret you’re right. Where will we hide them?”

“We can worry about that later. Just remember not to make any sudden moves or startle them. They’re obviously intelligent, but have been through a lot. I’d guess a war, looking at some of those older scars. I don’t think they were winning either. I just hope Dobby can get everything we need here.”

For a long time, words weren’t needed. Between so much time spent in the infirmary and Hagrid’s creature care class, they were able to work quickly and effectively. Some infection had set in on the neck wound, but apparently the creatures understood disinfectant because when Harry motioned to the watchful one to hold her still he did while he poured it on. The wound was quickly dried and wrapped in clean bandages, and Hermione moved on while Harry stayed to check for other wounds. He cleaned her as he went, using a spell to conjure hot water to wash scales as he found that she liked it hot best. There was a lot of steam coming up as dirt and grime came off.

By the time Harry had finished cleaning her, and he knew for certain now she was a female, everywhere and binding a few other minor wounds, she was soundly asleep. The one watching snorted when her wing, with a membrane that really wasn’t as delicate as it first looked, tried to hold Harry close as she slept. He thought their anatomy was a bit odd, certainly they were like no species that lived on Earth as far as he knew. Seeing Hermione sitting cross-legged by the side of the orange and black dragon with a book in her lap and tapping her wand he figured she had that one under control for now. He moved on to the other purple dragon, guessing from knowing himself that the watcher would want his friends cared for first.

He supposed from the markings that this one was at least a full sibling maybe a twin or however that worked with their kind, of the one that was watching them as if daring the teens to hurt his friends. He heard Hermione stand up and walk over to him after casting a few spells he didn’t catch; when she joined him, she ran her hands along its purple side, frowning.

“Yeah, I know. The blue female was too thin also. What do you think to start them on as far as food? Maybe rabbits if we can get them?”

“Hmm, something small like that would probably be best to start. We really have no idea what might make them sick, but if that doesn’t hurt them, we can move them up to deer pretty quickly. I wanted to ask how you got the hot-water Aquementi to cast.”

“Slow down during the last third of the wand movement and focus on getting it hot. She liked it really hot, like almost hot enough to burn my skin, so stand back far enough it doesn’t splash back on you.”

“Well, she certainly looks more comfortable now, I think I’ll try it over that far drain a few times. You found a few other things to treat under all that grime, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, these guys haven’t had time to take care of themselves for far too long. Just be careful, I thought she might be going into shock or something like this one is, see the tremors? Enough hot water helped and she nodded off. But stay far away from the nose, I had to use some cloths instead when she started to panic.”

There weren’t any major injuries on this one, some odd scaring though. A few minor things that needed some treating, but the hot water did the trick and she was sound asleep, not even waking with the minor touches of antiseptic. It took time, though. As Harry stopped and stood, he saw his best friend had nodded off right there on the floor. Concerned, he knew why when he felt the bone-deep comforting heat seeping off the orange dragon.

Hmm, a different breed, species, race? than the others I guess, even if they have mostly similar features. Well, Hermione did a good job here, his breathing sounds good and it looks like she found something to help with the bones. I wish I had a… Out of nowhere a blanket appeared and he cast a quick cushioning charm on the floor before draping the blanket over his friend and slipping a pillow under her head quietly. Turning back to the lone dragon still awake he motioned them over to the far drain. He could tell it was hesitant about being touched, but it had a good idea of what was coming, and hot water would feel so much better than slipping into a cold creek as he’d been doing his whole life.

Against his will, Ralion felt every muscle touched by the water relax as the human mage stated to clean him, of all things. He didn’t understand why he’d do this, why he was being helped, being comforted, after all the horrific things he’d done. Tendrion had said he’d hoped Ralion would understand someday, he didn’t know his brother had hated him.

His friends, his little flight, were free of their world. Well, he thought as his eyes turned towards the portal, as long as it didn’t follow them. To be honest, Ralion had felt the veil in his mind start to pull away as he arrived but had focused on those his brother had trusted him to look after, only now as his body’s tension started to ease did he start to look inward.

So many memories, so many times he’d killed, caused pain and reveled in it. He could see so much more wisdom in what Tendrion had tried to teach him now. He was a monster. He couldn’t imagine why his brother had stayed with him. Those last words of Cenarius, Tendrion had probably been helping the ‘good guys’ for a long time now. I wish I’d been there, helping to wash some of this blood off my hands. He started to scrape at his forearms, quickly becoming frantic.

Harry didn’t know quite what to do when the dragon he was cleaning started to shudder before starting to scrape at himself, quickly drawing blood. Not wanting to have those talons turned on him, they were sharp, but not being able to ignore the self-harm he cut off the water and moved to his front and gently moved the dragon’s head and found himself looking into wide, terrified eyes.

Shit. I have no idea what I’m doing here, dear Merlin let my best be enough. Making sure to keep his face welcoming, he focused on the creature before him and spoke from his heart. Ƥ: “Stop. Stop Hurting yourself, please.”

Never having encountered a magical language other than Draconic, the shock was enough to get Ralion to stop tearing into his own arms long enough for Harry to quickly clean the new wounds and bandage them. Those kind eyes that kept looking into his didn’t hurt either. He didn’t actually understand the whole phrase, but “Stop” and “Please” were enough to grasp it was a request to stop the self-mutilation.

As the boy did some spell to dry them both and the ground below them he suddenly felt heavier than ever before. Aggravating a few bruises, he let his weight go out as he hit the floor. Đ:”And why not? I’m a monster, I’ve always been a monster, I just never saw it before.”

Harry was able to make out the words “Why,” “monster” and “see” out of that. He could guess the creature thought he was a monster but was confused by the rest. Nevertheless, keeping him talking seemed like a good idea. He was pretty sure he’d slipped into Parseltongue there, so he looked into those scared blue eyes and focused on making himself understood.

Ƥ: “Tell me why you’re a monster, I can only get a few words out of what you’re saying, but try, please.”

At least one of them was getting better at whatever they were doing, Ralion thought. He looked the boy right in his far too caring eyes and spoke as slowly as he could to make him understand why he should hate the creature before him. Đ: “I’m a killer, I’ve killed and tortured and enjoyed it! That’s what I’ve done and thought all my life! I’ve served evil in it’s most true form! I enjoyed it! Never even had a second thought!”

Back in Harry’s head he mulled over what had been said, and what he understood. It was painting an awful picture. Suddenly he thought back to his lessons the previous year, and what was a toss-up for both most effective and most evil Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. (Remus got points for teaching the Patronus, but in hindsight that should have been taught to a lot more students. Voldemort was pretty evil, but lost points for existing as a boil on the back of Quirrel.)

This gave him an idea, because he was pretty sure his new acquaintance was describing something similar. Ƥ: “My people have a spell, an evil spell that earns its caster life imprisonment. It forces a target to obey any command. It can make people kill their families, end their own lives, commit any crime. But, it’s the caster at fault, not the one it’s used on. The one it’s used on is the victim, the same as anyone they hurt while it’s in effect. Do you understand?”

Đ: “Say that again, please?” And Harry did. At this point he was willing to repeat himself as many times as he needed if it would help.

After a third repetition that was easier to understand than the one before it, and in turn better than the previous; Ralion thought he understood. Đ: “But I can feel the whelps flesh tearing in my talons, the fear of drakes with torn wings falling to their deaths. I felt joy! I was happy being the cause of their deaths!”

Harry had heard that almost perfectly. He gently interrupted. Ƥ: “And what changed? You don’t seem happy about it now.”

Comprehension was catching, it seemed. Ralion answered as best he could though the answer bothered him. Đ: “I stepped through that portal. I’m so far from home, only Elune knows. I, never, never want to go home. I can’t...”

Ƥ: “If whatever magic was done to you only let you free once you came here, then no, you can’t. I’ll help you however you can, but life’s not perfect here either. There’s people in this castle that would have you killed because only because it would hurt me, that it would be one more time where I couldn’t save someone. I can get you out, but people would look at you and only see an animal, an animal that they can’t let most of the world see. We have things we call dragons, and they’re sort of like you, but as far as I know they’re actually just animals. But trusting what I’ve been told, what I’ve read… Well, don’t tell my friend this, but those sources can be wrong.”

Đ: “I can’t go home. All my kind, all the dragons that look like us, we’re evil. Maybe my brother wasn’t, but he’d have been the only one. We’ve been hunted by a band of the ‘good’ guys for months now, as we were trying to flee. Soon, they’ll find the cave, the portal. I don’t know how I can convince them to spare us. Or even if I should. I had Vespiona,” He gestured to the peacefully sleeping purple drake. “my sister, leave the other speak-stone by the portal.” Here he handed the small stone still adhering to his right talon until he removed it to Harry. “I just don’t know what to do, I’m so tired. So very worn.”

Ƥ: “Get some sleep then. I had a weird dream just before I came here to open the gate on this side, I’ve got enough rest in me to be fine for a long time yet. Tell me how to use the stone and I’ll try to talk them down.”

Ralion was so rung out at this point he could barely keep his eyes open. Đ: “Just channel a little magic in and speak. It’s a simple version cause I don’t have great control of my magic. As long as that Wyrmrest team doesn’t touch the water they’ll be fine. And, thank you, so very, very much.”

He was asleep before he even finished laying his head down, but Harry was quick with a cushioning charm. At a ‘loud’ thought, he had some heated blankets to place over the drakes, a little extra heat ought to at least keep their muscles relaxed, if nothing else. That done, after quietly checking that his best friend was still asleep he stripped quickly after asking Dobby for a few things from his room. Though, the Room beat the little guy to some comfortable lounge-wear. Poor little Dobby was a bit ticked at that.

He was thinking of so many other things he didn’t think to ask the room for a screen or shower head, just washed in the spray from his own wand. The room had warmed from all the steam so he didn’t think much of leaving his shirt off. He didn’t have any homework with him, or any urge to do any either. Before he sat down and tried to think, he asked Dobby to fetch the small mirror his godfather had given him. With it in his hand, he spoke directly into the mirror he spoke one name: “Sirius Black.”

It took a few moments, but a man with a clear case of bed-hair and a beard that looked much better than the first time they met answered. “Harry! Is everything all right? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine Sirius. But I’ve had a long night, and could use someone to talk to. Before that, I need to do something, can just do me a huge favor and not say anything for a bit? I need to check something and you can see what I’ve been up to.” Giving Harry a nod, so pleased to be a part of something, to have some news, Sirius silenced his end of the mirror, and was glad he did. He did not see anything close to what he expected when his godson called without a shirt on at four in the morning.

Harry gathered up some bandages, and walked back to where the dragon who’s name he still didn’t know was soundly sleeping under a heated blanket. Setting the mirror down, Sirius saw him remove the bandage, clean the wound again and carefully wrap it again. Swinging the mirror around, he showed Sirius all four drakes, Hermione asleep on a cushioning charm, and the slowly swirling portal. Moving to the farthest corner of the room, he sank gratefully into a plush recliner that appeared as soon as he had a need of it.

When he sank down into the chair he turned the mirror over to show his godfather’s gobsmacked face. “Yeah, I know. That’s sort of how I feel right now.”

Quickly waving his wand to dispel the one-way silencing charm, Sirius really didn’t know where to start. “Those are real, breathing dragons. That you’ve bandaged up, and put to bed like little kids. You have had an interesting night.”

The teenager let out a short laugh. “You don’t know the half of it, godfather. I think I also just talked one down from killing or at least maiming himself. I’ve never been so happy to be a parselmouth as I was when I talked to the male with the purple wings tonight.”

“They speak parseltongue? Wait, why would a dragon kill itself? Why would it listen to you? No offense.”

Harry shrugged. “In order: They don’t, not exactly. But we started out hearing a word or two when the other spoke, then it got better. The last time he talked, I only missed a word or two, and not the important ones. For why it was tearing its arms apart, I think it’s been a victim of something like the Imperious, but worse. For a really, really long time. Years maybe. Or it’s whole life. I don’t know, didn’t seem important at the time.”

“Wait, worse than the Imperious? I’m going to regret this, but how do you get worse than an unforgivable?”

“Well,” Harry started ticking off points on his fingers. “apparently, it’s race wide. He said all the dragons that looked like them were evil. Also, there’s only been one of them that might, might have been free of it, and it was that one’s brother, but he might have meant brother not in the blood relation way. I don’t know what happened to him, but he’s not here and they don’t seem to expect him to catch up. Oh, and apparently whatever spell he was under didn’t just make him do horrible things, it made him like doing horrible things. He talked about feeling joy as he killed what I think is a child in their species.”

The horror was starkly written on Sirius’s face. “Yeah, shit, I can see that being worse. And it explains the suicide attempt too. I’d watch them all, something like that is going to leave scars like Azkaban did to me. Shit, that’s even worse. How’d you talk them down? And where are you? I’ve never seen a room with a blue swirling thing in it at Hogwarts before.”

“Still in the castle, for now. There’s a room here I just found that becomes whatever you need. I had a really strange, peaceful dream tonight, and after an hour or so of rest I feel more rested than I can ever remember being. I raced here with Hermione, and I got the Room here to make this runic circle on the floor over there.

“It turns out it’s some kind of receiving rune array, not in any language Hermione’s ever seen before though. It sucked up a HUGE amount of power just to open the portal on this side. When I was using it, I could sort of feel what was going on. There was more power than I can express opening the door on the other side. As for talking him down, I told him about the Imperious curse, how the people who are under it are victims, them and the people they hurt. I think he understood, cause he gave me this little stone and passed out.”

“What’s the stone do? And if it took as much power as I’m thinking, people will definitely have noticed. It came to you in a dream? I have no idea what to make of that, but in that case the peaceful and restful part is probably a good thing. But Harry, opening a portal to, it sounds like, another world? The Ministry will-”

“I KNOW what they’ll do Sirius!” Harry snarled out, losing his composure. “I know I’m in the middle of the war and I have no one that’s both willing and able to help me! I know I’m one wrong step away from Merlin knows what with Umbridge, and she’s picking at me EVERY time I see her! I know the headmaster won’t help me!

“It’s not like he was there with Voldermort my first year, and while I was really grateful Fawkes showed up with the sorting hat when I was fighting a GIANT FUCKING BASILISK my second year, a rooster would have been more useful. OR a squad of TRAINED AURORS! Or any plan that didn’t involve stabbing the world’s DEADLIEST SNAKE with a fucking sword! It’s not like it didn’t BITE ME! At least Fawkes saved me, but for a while there I was so sure I was going to die. I didn’t even get to keep the sword I pulled out of the hat!

“And when I told him you were innocent, he gave me VAGUE FUCKING HINTS, and locked me in the infirmary with my best friend. Yeah, at least you didn’t get your soul sucked out, but you’d think the GRAND WARLOCK that people seem to GODDAMN WORSHIP could have told people you didn’t get a trial and ACTUALLY gotten you one! And last year speaks for itself. What help did I get from the staff? Oh Harry, there’s dragons! Everything else I got from the fucking death eater hiding as Dumbledore’s BEST FRIEND! And the rest of the staff, when everyone thought I’d cheated to get into that death trap, when I was the heir of Slytherin, a few moments to make an announcement was too much to ask.

“Not to mention that all these people knew my parents, and Hagrid’s been the only one to tell me anything about them really. Remus pretended not to know me, like I was just some other student he was teaching.” Harry was starting to wind down now, but he felt a little better, like he’d been holding that in for far too long. “And Snape’s hated me since the first day I got here, and he shows it! And it’s not like he even teaches, just puts things on the board.” He took a few slow, deep breaths.

“I know, I know what will happen if the ministry knows about this. I know I can’t expect any help from any adults. I know that you’d try, and that means so much to me, but they’d do worse than kill you and I can’t have that on my conscience, please.” He took a few moments to calm down, focusing on calming his breathing helped. “I’m sorry about that, I shouldn’t have lost my temper. I know I can’t do that where anyone can see me or it’ll be even more ‘dangerously unhinged Harry’ all across the papers. It’s just been getting to me.”

Unknown to the conversing two, five sets of ears (well, one set of ears and four sets of armored bone plates that served the same purpose) had heard everything since he started shouting. Only one understood, but the others had heard some of the desperation and had exceptional memories. When they learned to speak this language, they’d know what had been said. After making sure they’d remember what was said they started to fall back to sleep, one by one. Ralion thought back to what the human said about people that would kill others just to hurt him. He seemed like a good man, but he wasn’t among friends.

Sirius suddenly felt very old and very useless. In that rant he saw a boy under massive amounts of stress, barely holding it together now. If things kept up like this… Well, that wasn’t a nice thought. Everyone breaks eventually.

“Harry,” He started out, as serious as he’d ever been. “do you want to leave? All this mess, it shouldn’t be your job to fix. You’ve only had four years of magical education so far, and I’ve heard at least two of your Professors were shit. I can probably get us out of the country, if you can make it to Hogsmead. Heck, you might be able to get the minister to kick you out if you asked, maybe stick him with a magical contract with fine print to get your new friends escorted out. At least we could hide them in a trunk and take them with us.

“The Blacks have an island we can fortify the hell out of, hire tutors and everything. You wouldn’t have to come back to England ever if you didn’t want to. This war shouldn’t be your burden. I hate to say it, but if the people don’t fight for themselves, they don’t deserve your help either. If you want, I can be in Hogsmead tonight. Give me a little practice with making illegal portkeys and we can be out this time tomorrow.”

It took a few moments of thought for Harry to realize that the offer was far, far, more tempting than it should have been. When he spoke he was hesitant, and he turned the mirror around to show the portal.

“I can’t go yet. The portal needs to degrade, not be forced closed. If it destabilizes, say goodbye to everything for at least a few miles. And there’s the problem of what my new friend called “the good guys,” that are hunting down dragons that were evil until they entered that portal. They’re due within a few days, and there’s some kind of magic stone that’s sorta like these mirrors on the other side matching the one I have in my other hand. I at least need to talk them down, or use the room here against them if I can’t. Let me get past the weekend and I’ll let you know, okay?

“I just feel like I could use a few days away from everything going on. Since I might need to use this room, I might move the dragons into the Chamber of Secrets, but there’s a cave-in I’m not sure how to deal with blocking the way. Oh, and the big snake’s probably still there. I’m not sure what to do about all the students and rumors that’ll pop up though.”

“I’d ask the twins to help you. They seem like good guys, if you can slip them a note they can probably think of something. If you can trust me, I think I can get some help to deal with a cave-in. Hard part will be getting them to actually listen to me.”

“Don’t you have an insane house-elf? Maybe you could get him to help with a careful direct order. Or, make him tell you what he’d want in exchange for helping you? I’m not all that comfortable with how a lot of pure-bloods treat their elves to be honest. They are people of a sort.”

“Good idea Harry. I, I have a lot of bad memories involving Kreature. But, I should remember that house elves can’t disobey orders. He’s still probably a miserable being, but he didn’t have a choice in much in his life. Thanks again. Anything else you want to get off your chest? Or that I can give advice for? I really don’t know how to help with those dragon hunters, if all else fails and you can’t turn them around you might let them into the castle proper. Let them be Dumbledore’s problem instead.”

“No, thanks Sirius. Thanks for listening. I really needed a chance to vent. I need to get something for these guys to eat, and to get a hold of the twins now before most people wake up. I’ll let you know things go here, okay?”

“Please do, now let’s go manage some mischief! Padfoot out!” Sirius signed off with a stupid grin and a salute that actually made Harry smile.

After thinking for a moment, he tried to make the Room of Requirement produce some food, but got nothing. Giving up on that after a bit, it turned out that Dobby was more than happy to deliver notes and collect some food. “Dobby, thank you so much. I don’t think I could have pulled this off without you. Is there anything I can do for you in return? I can pay you or just give you my friendship or something else if you want.”

“Dobby is so happy to be helping a good wizard. Dobby not want pay, but maybe some day the Great Wizard Harry Potter would bond Dobby to his family? Dobby is loving being free for now, but thinks he would miss Purpose and Family later.”

Even through the elf’s odd speech and inflections, Harry caught the capital letters in those words. This was food for thought. “I’d have to think about it, but I don’t think I’d mind if it was really what you wanted. I give you my word to be a better master than the Malfoys, if you decide this is what you want. I don’t know how to convince Hermione though. She has strong feelings about house elves.”

“She-who-knits does not understand. Dobby not know how to make her either.”

Internally amused and horrified about Hermione’s hyphenated title, Harry tried hard to keep his face blank as he wrote out a clear, concise note to the twins, asking them for a bit of help covering for him and Hermione’s absence for a few days. Thankfully it was the weekend. Looking back at the dragons sleeping, he tried to think of what else he should be doing. A bit of effort later the portal had a slightly opaque barrier around it, and some sleeping potions ready to throw in through small holes.

As he got comfortable in his chair he asked for, and got, a book on mind-healing, specifically dealing with long-term Imperious victims. There was a lot he didn’t grasp at first, so he started to make notes in a binder that showed up as he needed it, and started using another book that was suddenly to his left side to make sense of the terminology he couldn’t decipher. At another thought, and kicking himself a bit for thinking of this after getting clean, the Room added a full bath to the corner. Not even looking, he decided to ask, as vaguely as he could, for working toilets for the dragon’s anatomy.

.........

Back in a dark depressing house in London, Sirius got to his own business. Deciding to be direct, he called his unwilling servant. It took some time for him to appear, but eventually he did. Clearing his throat, he decided to be direct. “Kreacher, I directly order you to tell me what I can do to earn or gain your loyalty as a Master you would be willing to serve.” He did not expect the answer. By the end of the whole tale, he really wished he could stop and get drunk. Instead he looked the small guy in the eyes and held the house-elf’s defiant, angry gaze.

“Kreacher, if you agree to serve me and my heir, I will help you complete my brother’s Last Task. I wish he’d come to me that night, I wish we’d been close enough that he would have. I loved my brother, more than I’d admit to most people. If you give me a week, we can see how that locket stands up to Basilisk venom or Dragon fire. You think one of those would do the job?”

Smiling at the enthusiastic head nod, he continued. “But, you will work with me until then. If I fail I don’t expect your help ever again, but if we do I want your real loyalty. Harry Potter is my heir, and he’s the best chance the house of Black has. The only other possible heir is a pathetic snot named Draco Malfoy. If you agree to serve me, after today I want you to go to Hogwarts and, without being seen by anyone compare the two. See which would make the house stronger. You might not know this, but Harry is a parselmouth. He’s doing something interesting right now actually. So, will you agree to work with me?”

“Kreacher agrees, for now. He will even follow if bad master can do what he said.”

Smiling at the elf, even though it turned his stomach to do so, Sirius gave the first commands he actually expected the crazy little guy to follow. “I need a room cleaned a bit. Later in the day you’re going to ‘invite’ one of the professors from Hogwarts that seems to have continually failed my heir. She won’t need her wand. We’re going to have a discussion, and she’s either going to sign a contract that will force her to give my godson some god-damn help, or she’s going to be obliviated and I won’t mind if she’s a bit bruised on the way back. Grab me a book on contracts and then go ahead with your first task. We can’t let anyone know what’s going on, especially the ‘guests.’”

Kreacher left quickly after that smiling. It wasn’t a nice smile, but Sirius got his book and got to work. Since he had a basic idea for a framework already it didn’t take long. It was a bit of trickery, he was essentially going to get Minerva to agree to help Harry hide his new friends and give him some actual support. He was pretty sure he could get her to sign something that would make her trust Harry to handle any situation so long as he had dealt with a worse problem on his own before.

Considering that Dark Lords, Dementors, and giant snakes had already been taken care of in the past; that ought to give Harry some real leeway. He’d check with Harry first. Poor boy could really use a say about something in his life. About four hours later he stretched and stood. He was done, and he’d grab a bit of food and come back to call Harry.

.........

Time passed, and a lot of what Harry found boiled down to that it was going to be a long road for recovery, that having someone to talk to was important, and that finding a purpose could help victims going forward. When the breakfast hour came, he found Dobby had slipped into the room without him knowing about it until he caught a smell that made his stomach rumble. On a small table was all the fixings of a full English breakfast, heavy on meats; on a different table was a pile of rabbits, some cleaned and some not.

Shrugging, Harry gathered himself a plate and went back to his research. He’d been marking on the pages in some places, folding others. Usually he’d be more careful, but it seemed like this was a conjured or some such book, so he marked as felt useful. As he went, he found himself more and more intrigued by the path of the mind-healer.

Bent over the book as he was, he didn’t notice his best friend until he felt her hair brush his face as she leaned over his shoulder. Seeing she was reading, he asked the room for another chair and that his table be a little longer. Still rather tired, she simply slid in and he turned the book as he pulled out his wand and summoned a pitcher of coffee and two mugs. When her eyebrows went up inquisitively, he just looked at her a moment. “You look like you could use something stronger today. It was a long night. You did a great job on the orange one by the way. What all was wrong with him?”

As she finished chewing on a strip of bacon stolen from his plate, and taking a small sip of hot coffee, Hermione finally turned her attention from the book. “A couple of broken ribs, a little internal damage, I don’t know if that would have killed him or not in the long run. There was a few smaller things wrong with the legs on one side, but they’ll heal pretty quickly with a bit of treatment. I thought spells rather than potions was the way to go, we don’t really know how they’ll affect them. Do I want to know why you’re studying this book harder than I’ve seen you study anything before? The contents and your notes seem... ominous.”

Harry concisely filled her in on what the dragon had said to him in the night. “I’m glad that we can understand each other a bit better now. I helped him as best as I could, but I’m not a trained mind healer. As soon as they’re up, I think we can get their names. I only know the female with the purple wings is “Vespiona” so far, and that she’s the leader’s sister. It’s an interesting name.”

Hermione chewed her lip a little, looking over at the dragons that seemed to be waking up a bit more, shifting in their sleep. “Hmm, it is. I wonder if there’s any meaning to it. I think you have the general right idea for helping them through this. If they never had a choice, they shouldn’t suffer for their actions.” Looking at the portal for a moment, she shuddered. “It’s terrifying that something could even do that, let alone would. How else can we secure the portal?”

Sharing her anxiety, Harry had some coffee himself before continuing. “I’ve asked the room to seal it for the moment, there’s some sleeping solution that can be poured in. If the room did what I wanted, the potion should release a gas and knock out whatever comes through. On the plus side, we’re sort of expecting the “good guys” to catch up to these dragons shortly, so that might keep any horrid evils from coming in.

“I’m not sure how things are going to go when they turn up, but things seem safe enough for the moment, I think the portal’s in a cave on the other end from the scents that first rush of air brought. I wanted to ask you for your thoughts before I tried anything else.” He stood for a moment, taking his now empty plate and returning shortly with two full ones, after sitting near her for over four years now he knew what his friend liked in her breakfast.

A companionable quiet bloom as they ate and thought. Finally, Hermione spoke: “I think a Fidelius charm on the other side of the portal would work best but I doubt we could cast it. That would probably keep us safe, and maybe some wards to act behind it? Aversion wards or such. I’ll see what I can find in the...” She paused as a two thick tomes dropped to the table in front of her. Harry took the old, untitled one and pushed the other, titled ‘A Collection of ye Most Useful Wards’ in front of his friend. “Library. Okay, I admit that’s handy.” She completed her thought before diving in, Harry passing her some paper and a pen for notes.

By now the first reptilian eyes had opened. Talion was the first awake, unfamiliar places had become his norm so he was cautious as he came to, checking his surroundings as best he could before standing to see around. It briefly amused him that he shook off a blanket that was... warm? Well he certainly appreciated the thought, and he’d think more about that later, but breakfast called. He certainly didn’t expect what he found.

Those teens were pouring over a collection of books, and he thought back to the previous night, where the female spent a lot of time trying to find the right spell. Given that he could breathe much easier and even stand with almost no pain, she had done well. Ignoring the food for a moment, he moved to stand before her, across the table and bowed. With his anatomy, this consisted of moving his front low, curling his head to show his neck, and spreading wings wide. When she smiled at him and motioned to the food he rose, nodded at her, and moved to finally fill his stomach. Hmm, they had rabbits? Not something he’d had before, too fast, too little meat to bother chasing. But as he bit the first one in half and swallowed, it wasn’t bad.

Harry Potter had a smirk on his face as the dragon with the beautiful (or handsome, possibly) orange markings turned away. He was about to make a snarky comment at Hermione, when he saw her go a bit green. ‘Ah. Well, certainly a natural carnivore then. If the teeth and talons didn’t give it away.’ “Try not to let it bother you, we can talk about table manners later. They’re going to be staying, at least on this world, so we have time.”

Going back to their books, neither tried to listen in as a second, then a third of them stirred. Harry had begun reading the casting requirements of the Fidelius charm before he noticed the lead dragon bringing a cleaned rabbit over to the one that was still laying down, having apparently proven too weak to get up on her own. Putting a loose page in the book to keep his place he went over to see how he could help.

Seeing that her conscious was a good thing, though she was very weak. Quickly getting a pitcher of water and a bowl, he shrugged and snagged the rabbit from the Leader and after a thought, and having seen the other eat the rabbit bones and all, he used a spell he’d seen Molly Weasley use in her kitchen, but certainly not on a whole rabbit. Now with a bowl of rabbit paste he motioned for the Leader to help keep her head up, then poured in the paste slowly. He refilled the bowl with water several times to get all the pieces in, then repeated with another rabbit mush. Moving away briefly for something else, he returned with some bacon. When he showed a small transfiguration of a pig and got a nod tore them up and placed them in her mouth and let her swallow.

Her throat injury might pose a problem going forward, but he could still make out something like “Thank you.” Not even noticing his slip in Parseltongue, he let out a muffled “You’re welcome” before quickly checking her wound, very glad to see it had stopped leaking pus, and smelled much better than before. There was a scale or two that would be lost by the time it was completely healed, but it was looking up. ‘God I love this room.’ He thought as he stepped back. A soft pillow had appeared under her, and Harry helped her rest her head on it. Harry cleaned her wound again with hot water, dried it with a soft towel and left it open to the air for now.

Getting the Leader’s attention again Harry spoke as quietly as he could. Ƥ: “I want her wound to breathe a bit. We’ll put fresh bandages on if it starts to bleed. I’m not sure how much she should eat right now. She needs enough in her to start replacing her blood. You guys are all too thin. And I remember that if you let someone who’s been starving eat too much too fast it can make things worse. Are the rabbits okay with you guys?”

Đ: “They’re fine. Are you worried about something making us sick? Unless it’s poisoned, you don’t really need to. Our guts are tough. We have rabbits at home, but they’re too small to bother hunting normally. Usually we eat deer or elk or something. Anything without tainted or poisoned meat; and I’m pretty sure we’ve all survived eating some of that too. For Caliona, don’t worry, she’s tough. We might need to baby her for a few days but after that she’ll be fine.”

Ƥ: “That reminds me, I don’t think I’ve really introduced myself yet. My name is Harry Potter, and my best friend over there is Hermione Granger. Right now you’re standing in Hogwarts Castle on the planet Earth.”

Ralion gave a short bow. Đ: “I am Ralion of the Twilight Dragonflight of Azeroth. Formerly a servant of what we call the Old Gods and their Cult. I was brother in blood and spirit of Tendrion, our former leader. Vespiona is my clutch-sister,” He gestures to the purple female. “Caliona here with the wounded neck is also a Twilight Dragon. Talion is a Black Dragon, the first group of dragons to fall to the corruption of the Old Gods.”

Ƥ: “It is nice to meet you Ralion.” Harry gave a small bow. “Right now, we’re working on magic to keep anything else from coming through the portal. I’ve found a charm, but I doubt I have enough power to cast it, so I’m thinking of touching the circle on the other side to draw enough power to do so. Am I right in assuming there’s a sister to the one here on the floor back where you left from?”

Briefly examining the circle from behind the barrier, Ralion answered. Đ:”Where did you get this?! The Draconic runes are the perfect receiving array for what we did, unless you know of Draconic on this world, but without my kind...”

Ƥ: “I had a dream last night. I saw a forest in moonlight and figures in the distance, then I woke and knew I had to come here, to get this Room in this configuration to open the door. I was in a bit of a rush. I had to stun one of the adults that usually walks the halls at night, but he’s an asshole anyway.”

Looking around, he saw that the three mobile dragons had walked over to him and he had their attention. Seeing Hermione from behind her book he asked for another chair and some comfortable mats for the dragons, and he decided to start a group therapy session. That book had said that repetition might be needed to get patients to believe that some things were not their fault. He started by repeating his spiel about the Imperious from last night. Quickly his whole focus became talking with the dragons, trying to insure they understood, and that they didn’t feel the need to harm themselves.

Hermione stopped researching for a time, enjoying how the stress of the year so far seemed to fade from him now that Harry had a task he could accomplish. She simply observed how he threw himself into helping people so wholeheartedly. Suddenly thinking back to last night, she decided to do everything she could to help Harry help these, well aliens would be the most accurate word. She knew her friend cared deeply, and he didn’t deserve to be hurt again. These four didn’t deserve it either.

She was still listening when the mirror laying on the table started to vibrate and let out a quiet “Harry Potter.” Luckily she knew that voice. Answering it wasn’t difficult, at least there wasn’t a strange password to it.

“Hello Sirius.” She answered with a small smile. “Is there anything pressing that you need? Harry’s… Well, I don’t speak the languages, but I think he’s having a group therapy session right now. And how strange is it that Harry’s having a counseling session with formerly evil dragons from another world, and it’s not enough to freak me out.”

Sirius couldn’t help but snort at that last night. “I’m still not completely sure what to make of that. When he mirrored me at four this morning without a shirt on, yourself and four dragons tucked into blankets on the floor was not what I expected. Is he doing alright? And also, if he’s busy, can you check a few things for me? First open the Marauder’s Map if you have it handy and see if the castle is going crazy or not outside where ever you are.”

Having no reason to argue she did. “He’s doing better than usual actually, he said something to me last night about tasks he could accomplish. It’s like he’s in his element now, like helping people is really what he lives for. Give me a moment. Hmm, Dumbledore is having a staff meeting in his office, everyone’s there but Umbridge. Where is… There she is, she’s meeting some Aurors at the gate it looks like. I see Tonks. Is this about the power flow through the wards with the portal?”

“Yeah, I’d imagine so. I’d stay in there for now if I were you. The Ministry will kill, or do worse, to your new arrivals if they get a chance. Don’t trust any students from the Death Eater families or anyone close to the Ministry. I think you mentioned something about a Defense Association? I’ll send you a book I have on magical contracts so you can whip up something. Focus more on making it so they can’t betray you rather than penalties for when they do. Because, trust me, with the Ministry so big, they will find someone to lean on, even if they have to threaten loved ones to get to you.”

Seeing the way her face fell, Sirius managed to guess what had happened. “Already put out a contract with that problem? Come up with a new one before the first meeting, copy it to a clean sheet of paper in front of them, and burn the old one with Incendio after they sign on to the new.”

“Thanks Sirius. Seems like that would have bit us at some point. Is everything well with you? Anything new you can tell us?”

“You mean is the Order doing anything? Anything at all? No, we’re doing nothing other than guarding the thing we have been. I can’t get them to even bother guarding muggleborn families. It’s like when I’m talking they’re hearing Greek instead.” She could see he was frustrated as he drug a hand through the stubble on his face. “Hermione, the more I find out about what his life had been like the worse it gets. Did Remus not tell Harry that he knew him? Did the staff not do anything to dispel the rumors during the Tournament?”

“I don’t think Remus said anything to him, Harry had to beg him for Patronus lessons. And no, they did nothing then or when most of the school thought he was the “Heir of Slytherin” in second year. I’ve thought about asking Harry if we should move the dragons down into that chamber eventually.”

Sirius Black was uncharacteristically silent for a while. “Hermione, it feels like the whole world went mad while I was in hell. What you just confirmed about Remus and the staff, that’s unforgivable. It’s like the people I used to know are completely different people now. Even my brother, I was so sure he was a die-hard Death Eater; then this morning I found out the story of how he died. Turns out, Regulus turned on Voldemort and paid with his life.”

Silence reigned for a time after that. Hermione, not having anything to say to that, turned the mirror so he could see Harry hissing off and on, now reaching out to touch a dragon that seemed to be breaking down into tears. Whatever the language the dragons spoke was an odd one, full of harsh tones. After a long time of observing, Sirius spoke again.

“He really is something, isn’t he? Hermione, I have a sort of plan. I think I can get Minerva to actually help Harry like she should have been doing for all these years. I’d like Harry to sign off on it first though, let him have some input on things that effect him. Can you tell him that I think I can get your head of house to sign a contract so that she’ll do her damn job and help, not pass the buck or go tattle so long as he’s handled something worse before. Given the Basilisk at twelve, I don’t think she could have any argument that he couldn’t manage a few little dragons.”

“I’m not really comfortable with that. But, if it helps, I won’t complain. Looking back a few words from her or the Headmaster could have dispelled most of those awful rumors and lightened Harry’s load considerably. I don’t know why they didn’t, to be honest.”

She turned the mirror back to see Sirius’s face when she heard him snort. Seeing her “Explain!” eyebrow come up, he voiced his thoughts. “I do. Last year it was easier for Albus to let Harry suffer being thought a cheat than admit he didn’t know what happened, to let anyone think it was his failing that let The-Boy-Who-Lived be placed in danger, that the students under his care might not be perfectly safe. He didn’t even need to lie, his silence was enough to let people deceive themselves. And the only one it hurt was Harry. Does that sound about right for your second year too?”


Hermione could only nod, she’d long had a habit of trusting those in authority, and those habits left a sour taste in her mouth now. Needing a moment, she saw that Harry’s group was taking a break. As she saw Harry motion to bathroom in the corner in response to some question, she stepped up to him as his group broke for relief and some water.

She did see that every kind of meat from the breakfast platter was gone, but she helped herself to a slice of melon as she walked over. “Hey Harry. Everything going well here? I’m sort of jealous that you can understand them, but I was watching and you’re doing great.”

“I think we’re doing as well as can be expected really. Would you be willing to do a bladder and bowel spell on Caliona? I’m not sure I could get it as right as you on the first cast. She lost enough blood from that neck wound that she’s too weak to do much. Ralion, the purple male, and the others are confident she’ll be fine in a few days, that she just needs some help until then. I feel iffy about that, but they should know their biology better than I do. Oh, and we have names for all four.”

Harry said, passing over a book dog-eared to a spell for human patients that lacked the ability to use the bathroom on their own. It was rather simple, but with the wand movements and positioning, she could see why he preferred a female to do it. Not that she was terribly comfortable doing it herself, but given that this was for medical purposes she’d manage. “I’ll introduce them all properly in a moment. I’ll give her the general idea of what you’re doing.”

“Thanks Harry. Sirius is on the mirror, so you should talk to him after you explain.” While Harry was hissing away she looked over the spell for a time. It was very simple really, and she was sure it would work the first time if she was careful. By the time she was ready to go, Harry was back at the table in discussion and one of the purple dragons was back. Taking a close look, Hermione was fairly sure this was the female that she had a name for.

“Vespiona?” Turning her head, the female gave Hermione her full attention as Hermione turned her book around and began to get her point across that she needed Caliona to shift onto her side for a moment.

Catching the gist of the conversation, the two male dragons chose to move towards Harry, not trying to listen in, the words didn’t mean much. They did hear their names once, but shrugged that off. After conferring a bit, both of them believed Harry about people wanting to hurt them, after all, they’d seen the worst parts of people their whole lives already. All four had agreed to at least give this Harry Potter and the woman he was courting their tentative trust in their discussion over breakfast.

It was one thing for a person to give them shelter or a bit of food, but he’d taken the time to tend their wounds and wash all the filth of their old life away with his own hands. He seemed to trust the one he was talking to, eventually ending the conversation into a mirror. A few moments later, Caliona let out a shrill wordless exclamation. At that, Talion let out a snort. He’d had a fair bit of outside magic pumped into him last night when the female treated his injuries, and it really was a strange sensation.

.........

As most of those in the Room mentally prepared for the inescapable discussion that would soon need to take place, something interesting happened in the same castle, but only briefly. Minerva McGonagall found her wand taken from her hand as soon as she entered her office, then hastily and forcefully apparated elsewhere.

.........

Oddly enough, the stern Professor didn’t expect to suddenly find herself sitting in what looked to be a small, plain room in Number 12, Grimmauld Place. This inference was backed up by one Sirius Black serving her a cup of tea. Taking just a moment to sip at a decent cup of tea, she turned her most stern countenance onto her host.

“Sirius, while I appreciate the tea, I really must inquire what you think you’re doing here. This is most out of the ordinary.”

Sipping his own cup briefly, just to observe the niceties, Sirius succeeded in not quailing under her gaze. (Though it was significantly harder than he’d ever admit.) He began with care, putting as much quiet malice into his words as he could. “Well, Minerva, I felt we needed to have a discussion of certain failings of the staff at Hogwarts. I’ve recently become concerned about the welfare of my godson, you see, as the guardian his parents chose in the event they could not be there themselves. Granted, Alice and Frank Longbottom were the preferred choice, and if things had been different I doubt I would have had any objections to them. I’m sure they would have done a far superior job raising Harry, but I digress.

“You see, the administration of Hogwarts Castle has failed to protect Harry from becoming a pawn in the battle between the Headmaster and the Ministry. The professors have continually failed to provide a safe environment for learning, or even basic safety. And, this is most personally vexing you see, Harry feels that not one adult in that entire castle is actually in his corner, who will do anything to help him if he needs it. I don’t feel this is a situation that can be allowed to continue.

“I’ve always held you in a great deal of respect Minerva, even back when I was young and stupid. But learning what’s been going on in that castle for the last five years has reduced that respect to,” Here, Sirius leaned forward and put as much venom as his Black heritage afforded him into the last word without breaking his flow. “ash.”

Sirius held up a hand to stop her objections for a moment. “In a moment, we’ll go into why I feel this way, but first I want to inform you of something and let you read over a contract I wish for you to sign before you leave here today.”

“Sirius Black! You are acting preposterous! Hogwarts is the safest place...”

The exceedingly stern professor was cut off just as she was gathering steam by Sirius slamming his fist on the table hard and thundering over her. “DO NOT give me that shit, Minerva. I know plenty of schools where students haven’t had to deal with evil spirits, BASILISKS in the dungeons and the unadulterated hatred of their professors. You and all the rest have failed that school! You have failed the students!

“This is your last chance, Minerva. The Blacks have safe places all over the world. You will step up, starting today, or in a week’s time Harry and his closest friends will be gone from that castle!” (Unsaid was the abysmal odds of keeping the spawn of a Marauder inside the castle on his own, much less with outside help trying to extract him.) Here, Sirius calmed down and slumped back into his chair, looking and feeling as he had after his talk with his godson that morning. “I talked to him this morning, Minerva. He’s not having an easy time of it, and you lot aren’t helping him. He’s so close to breaking. I won’t let that happen. I’ve failed him so much already, it has to stop now. It will.”

“The Headmaster will never allow you to...”

With a snort, Sirius interrupted her again. “He won’t know until Harry’s already gone Minerva. Either you sign this contract to ensure you give him the help he needs,” Here Sirius’s voice dropped very low, barely audible in the quiet room. “or I’m going to Obliviate you before Kreature takes you back. And no, I’m not very good at the spell, but I can bury my sentiments and do what’s needed. I want you to have a glance at that contract, listen to what I have to say and then think before you choose. I’ve respected you for a long time Professor. Please, I don’t want to do something drastic, but there are so few good options.”

Minerva McGonagall was shocked. This was not how she expected her morning to go. “Sirius, there was something of an emergency last night. I’m needed.”

With a real smile, Sirius waved off her objections. “Something to do with a huge flow of magical energy into the castle and through the wards? Harry’s already taken care of it. He showed me what caused it on his mirror, it’s stable and slowly leaching off energy. He tells me it can’t be rushed without causing disaster, and given how much power is involved I’d say that’s a given. Since Hogwarts apparently uses students to solve all its mysteries and fight any monsters as a matter of course now I see nothing wrong with letting him take care of it.”

Refilling their cups as he waited for her rebuttal he let a devilish smirk cross onto his face. They both knew that last statement, while perhaps not completely accurate, wasn’t wholly wrong either. He was surprised when Minerva just sighed and reached for the document in a folder he’d moved next to her teacup after he finished speaking earlier. “I will want to know what is going on, Mr. Black. Most of this doesn’t look unreasonable. I could be accused of favoritism for any of it, but from a rational perspective it’s not bad. Why do you want me to tutor Harry in Transfiguration? He does quite well as it is.”

“I want you to teach him how to use your art in combat. He has the power for it, if you’d seen, felt, that Patronus from his third year… Also, I want you to start laying groundwork so he can learn the Animagus transformation. Just the groundwork, don’t let him look for his animal yet; I’ve heard of a potion and if it’s real I want him to take that first. For both of them, the reason is because I want him to live through all the shit that happens in his life.”

“I wish that he didn’t need it, but given how his life is, I can understand. But what potion? I can’t think of what you’d mean.”

“It’s something I heard the American Indians use, well in stories anyway. Something about heroes of their people proving worthy and being gifted the right to wear the form of a Thunderbird. I’m not sure if it’s true or not, so I’m going to send Remus out to find the truth. Harry could make good use of a surprise up his sleeve.”

“Hmm, I always thought those were myths. However, even if this is impossible an animal form could prove exceedingly useful. I do want Harry to have a long life, so this is more than acceptable. Now this last part is worded oddly. Can you tell me why you want me to follow a minor’s lead in this current adventure? I can get why you don’t trust my judgment, but the secrecy seems just a bit much.”

Taking a long sip of tea, Sirius gathered his thoughts. “Harry called me on the mirror I gave him at Four o’clock this morning. When he showed up either sweaty or just having rinsed off without a shirt on and said he’d had a long night, I’m sure you can guess where my thoughts led.”

Shaking his head at the indignant expression on his once-favorite Professor’s face, he continued. “There’s four more lives in the balance in your castle today Minerva. In the night, Harry received an urgent call for help, that’s what caused your problem too. I don’t think you’ve ever been biased against non-humans, so I’m comfortable telling you that they’re certainly not human.

“I’m guessing they’ll learn English eventually, but for now, Harry can only communicate through Parseltongue. I don’t think he’s ever used that ability willingly, so he hasn’t noticed yet but when he was having a little counseling session, his Parseltongue was going strange. I’m guessing his new acquaintances have some kind of magical language of their own, and it’s interacting with Harry’s. How that works, I have no clue, but it seems to be.”

“I see. With the ministry in the castle, this is a poor time. Why does Harry think they need counseling?”

“Harry didn’t have the complete picture yet, but it looks like they’re victims of a nightmarish version of the Imperious, they were kept under their whole lives, maybe from their their first breath. For them, it was like up was down, black was white, and good was evil. This spell that they just got away from, it made them do all the worst things our version can do, but it made them enjoy it. Harry talked one of them down from tearing the veins out of his arms last night.”

It took a good five minutes for Minerva to respond to that. “That… That is truly vile, unconscionable. To do that to children! Not even Grindlewald was that twisted! And the poor souls! Who could do such a thing!?”

“Evil, is the only answer I know for sure. Harry’s doing a good job so far, but it might be needed to move them through the castle soon. Harry and Hermione are thinking of taking them into the Chamber of Secrets soon, but there was a cave-in down there when Harry killed the Basilisk, so I’m not sure it’s safe. I’m guessing you can handle permanent transfigurations, or at least enough of them to secure a tunnel. Might try making it a teaching moment. Anyway, there’s still a Basilisk, dead, down there probably. I’m not sure if it’s still good for anything, or if it’s rotted to nothing.

“Anyway, the important part about this is that if the wrong people get wind of this, I don’t trust the Ministry to do the right thing, the logical thing, or even stay away from the evil thing. Whatever their origins, they are intelligent enough to know regret, but we both know that would mean nothing if they’re found in the castle. Hell! It wouldn’t mean anything if they were found anywhere in the country if the Ministry found out hurting them would hurt Harry.” Again, he sagged into his seat, feeling tired and worn.

“Minerva, what the hell happened to the country while I was in Azkaban? I’m still not okay with getting chucked into there without with no trial, just Crouch’s desire for notoriety at my expense and probably Malfoy gold. But, the government has become an enemy of the people, and the people are just stupid sheep that do nothing about it. This wasn’t what I fought for in the last war dammit!”

Minerva really had no idea what to say to that. For a moment, she was confused why Malfoy would have wanted Sirius in prison, but then she remembered who his wife was. With Draco, the whole of the Black family would be in his father’s hands. Suddenly she felt worse about Sirius’s imprisonment. Thinking back on the history she’d lived, she tried to come up with an answer.

“Too many of those that followed Voldemort got out of their just sentences and we never cleaned out the Wizengamot of the loyalists entrenched there. Too many of the good people that should have led the charge were dead, and the rest of us were so tired of fighting. I admit, I thought when we won that it was over, that I could be a teacher and just teach. I trusted the people in power.

“That was a mistake, it seems. And now, looking at what our government has become, it feels like we’ve lost already. I really don’t know how to fix any of this Sirius. I think, if we win this war we’ll need to completely clear out the old guard, throw them in prison, use veritaserum on everyone with any scrap of power. Arguments about not having enough just cause seem so very hollow when the Ministry can act like it is with you.”

“Not to mention it tried to kill my godson over the Summer.”

“Sirius, why would you think… Surely, they’re not that dark?”

Refilling their teacups again Sirius bought a little time while he ordered his thoughts. “First we have the Dementors themselves. If Voldemort is keeping a low profile, calling on them would be an odd move. While the Ministry doesn’t have as good of a control over them as they think, it’s odd that two would go rogue and only target my godson. If they were truly loose, they would have had more victims along the way. Next, the timing of the expulsion note is far too quick, and there’s no way it would have been generated without some investigation. The only one who saw the Patronus in the first place was Harry’s cousin after all. And that trial had nothing to do with getting the truth and everything about destroying an enemy.

“We both know Harry’s become a pawn in the conflict between Dumbledore and Fudge. Fudge would prefer Harry be gone in a way that didn’t reflect badly on him. I’m... I’m not really sure what Dumbledore wants for my godson. Minerva, with everything going on his life, has Albus arranged special lessons for Harry? Anything that would help him stay alive with the madman that’s after him and has been for years now?”

“It’s hard to deny your logic. I believe the Patronus lessons are the only time Harry’s been given any special training.”

“I’m going to have words with Remus for that. Hermione told me Harry had to beg for his help, we both know how badly those blasted demons affect him. I can hardly believe that not only did my oldest living friend make a child he should have been an uncle to beg for help, but that he never checked up on him while he was growing up. If he would have bothered to check up on him maybe Harry would have a few less scars on him.” That brought up Minerva’s eyebrows sharply.

“Explain. Now.” She intoned harshly.

“I think the insanity of the situation got to him, and it was warm enough where he was not to notice, but that was the first time I’ve seen him without a shirt on Minerva. I’m no healer, but I had a bad enough childhood to recognize at least one significant burn scar and a fair number of belt lashes that have scarred. I, I don’t even want to know what his back looks like, I might have to go earn that reputation for killing muggles. Harry was such a bright, happy child once. Seeing him act so shy and withdrawn at times just makes me sure people who should have been looking out for him failed him.”

“Albus, I told him those were the worst sort of muggles when we left him there!” The old professor’s fury drained away to a small voice. “He assured me Harry would only be safe with his Aunt. That everything was taken care of. I don’t understand. I guess I’ll just have to trust Albus more going forward.”

It took a lot for Sirius not to argue with her on the last line, and instead he tried to think about that line. Either Minerva’s mind was broken from some trauma or age, or something had been done to it to make her want to reward a betrayal of trust with more trust. This, this didn’t bode well at all. Suddenly he remembered an older relation of his warning him to never trust Dumbledore or men that played the rest of the world like chess pieces. That power was a drug that made one thirst for more and more and the Headmaster was drunk on it. A terrible suspicion began to rise in Sirius at that moment.

Then, something started to whisper in the back of his mind. It wanted him to believe that this was all a misunderstanding, that he really should trust the Headmaster. That the Headmaster was so wise, that he was so kind and generous. Sirius reeled in his chair and he realized what was happening. His old, so very neglected lessons in mental defense pulling themselves to the forefront. They proved woefully insufficient.

A mental wall tried to form, but the thoughts that were a form of mental influence wormed under, over, and through. Sirius felt strangled as those foreign beliefs started to burrow back into his the deepest parts of his and mind and a comforting fog descend on him. As he lost the battle, Sirius made a last rally and tried to make the words he spoke true, not realizing he said them aloud as well. “No! I am the Lord Black! Protector of the Family! I will not abandon my Heir! I will NOT fail my family AGAIN!” In this case, in this house, those were magic words.

The Black family boasts a long and stories history through the ages. They’ve produced villains and heroes, but more than anything else they’ve produced cunning people who valued family above all. The last few generations had lost this focus, but two centuries of poisoned magic feeding into the family tapestry cannot destroy the weight of two millennia of people who, often with cunning and guile, used everything they could to ensure the Blacks continued. That believed that family came first.

The Family Magic, that font of power each Black fed their unneeded strength into, was a creation of ages past. A brilliant man, living with his family in the heart of the Roman Empire was beset on all sides and he was not strong enough to protect those he loved. With a great need before him, he stole his family to a tiny island in the Mediterranean where he created a well with a drop of blood from each member of his family, and his loyal manservant and his wife as well. They were slaves originally from Judea, but the first Black treated them well, never forcing them to work any harder than he himself did. Both men often worked long hours at the forge, feeding Rome’s hunger for swords and armor, enhanced with just a touch of magic.

After long work and much toil, the man created the Family Magic; which would take from every person who added a drop of blood to that Well as much magic as it could without harm and store it for use by the family head. (The need to bring each new family member to the physical location was removed with the weaving of magic to summon the needed blood from each descendant at birth.) In practice, this meant while they slept every magical would be slowly drained by just enough so that they’d recover their strength fully as they woke. Once the work was done, the man stood in front of the stone basin looking down at the seven drops of blood and added three of his own.

On that island he created the Creed that would serve the Blacks for a very long time. “Let me and every Head of my House to follow be bound true to this purpose! To remain always pure to this purpose! That every man and woman of this house be in this of pure hearts and devoted above all else! That our family will survive this day, that we will survive EVERY day! That we will look after one another! That the Blacks will endure in this purpose for every day that the sun rises until this world ends!”

The drips of magic that Well (Long since hidden beyond any mortal finding on the Island only a Black and those both invited and well-meaning would be welcome on.) pulled from every family member gave it life, gave it purpose! Every drop added to the well changed it, for good or ill with the very essence of what they were. Their hopes, their dreams, their fears, the very depths of the human soul never seen but in darkest adversity; that was what the fed the Well.

But, in the last few centuries, with each new generation, the drops turned to poison; the newest family members bound to that Well clashed horribly with the purpose for which it had been created. Those that would have been a comfort had been cast out of the family, and those whose influence it yearned for were broken, broken almost down to their very souls.

Though not a truly intelligent thing, the Black Magic that had given up hope for itself and the Family heard Sirius in his desperation through the fog it was falling into. Joy, Hope, Rage for all that been wrought by and to its Family, Fear for those in danger, and Rage that one of its Sons had their mind tainted flowed through it in a heartbeat. Unseen by any living thing, contained within a cave with no exits or entrances, behind a Fidelius of which the Well itself was both Keeper and the only Knower of its own secret, the Well surged. Magic roiled and thundered! The Black Family Magic roared!

.........

For the first time in over two centuries, the Black Family’s Magic had the three things it truly needed to influence the world. Firstly, it had enough magic to do so, if only barely. Second, it had a true Head; the Magic would never bow to the insane or one whose motivations was incongruous with its own. And third, it had a use for its Magic that aligned with its purpose.

In the mind of Sirius, the Family Magic swept aside the expertly woven compulsions. To protect the Head, the Family Magic used the bits of magic that were maintaining the compulsions to throw up a very narrowly specific spell for the caster to ignore the Black Head. Whoever had altered his mind would have a great deal of difficulty assigning any importance or even notice to the head of the Black Family.

This expended the Well’s available stored power. What was once a mighty gift that could turn the tides of battle was greatly reduced by both the decline of the family and the magic it had gathered from the majority of the Blacks in the last century. But it had hope now. The Family had a Head that knew what family should mean. He had an heir as well, and the young man had potential.

.........

As the Family Magic left him, Sirius Black, now the official head of the family slumped onto the table, desperately wishing for something to dull his headache. He could really only say one thing at the moment. “Well, that sure hurt.”

Sitting across from him, Minerva raised an eyebrow as she observed him again. From her perspective, Sirius had made a rather dramatic statement, frozen in place for several moments, then slumped like a puppet with cut strings. After several more moments with Sirius face down on the cool table, she cleared her throat. “Are you well, Sirius?”

Not raising his head just yet, he answered carefully. “Professor, I think we have either a traitor or someone trying to usurp the Order for their own purposes among us. My family apparently has some kind of defense that can purge outside influences from the Head’s mind. When I claimed the Headship just now, it activated and cleaned my mind out. I, I need to brush up on my Occlumency, I don’t know if that cleansing was a one-time thing or not. You should too, would you like me to send you a book on it when I find a good one?”

“Mr. Black, are you telling me we have another Pettigrew among us?” Minerva was more than a little shaken at that idea, she liked to think she could, at least, trust the rest of the Order.

“Yes, but this one is probably a lot smarter and is very skilled in the mind arts. I’ll have you sent back as soon as you sign the contract Minerva. You must tell no one until we know more. Remember that the walls might have ears, especially the ones at Hogwarts this year.”

“You will keep me informed Sirius. Send an elf with that book you mentioned in the evening when I’m alone in my quarters. Helping Harry prepare for battle would not be a terrible idea. There does seem to be a war coming and that boy attracts trouble like no one else I’ve ever seen. Do you have a quill?”

Though Harry Potter’s experience with them was neither pleasant or legal, unmodified Blood Quills were sparingly used for binding legal documents. A contract signed in ink was usually legally binding, but one signed in blood was magically binding. Sirius Black felt no joy as Minerva McGonagall winced and signed the contract in her own blood. He really, really hoped that this did not cause a clash with another binding contract or oath she may no longer remember. Only the thought that his godson was more important kept him from stopping her right then.

Sirius really, really hoped that somehow he was wrong about Albus Dumbledore; that the man wasn’t what he seemed in light of the compulsion spells. The Headmaster would be a dangerous enemy if he was a Dark Lord hidden in the light or an old man that simply thought that he alone knew the correct way forward and had no appreciation for the free will of others.

A/N: My personal head cannon is that Umbridge did not exactly invent the Blood Quills, as that seems beyond her usual level of competence. I mean, really, she was bested by a bunch of kids that she was continually antagonizing. If she had a half-dozen Aurors there loyal to her, how much differently would that have gone? Anyway, my head cannon is that being the awful person she was, she saw the Blood Quills used in rare circumstances to sign legal documents, took a good look at them and said “I can make this into a torture instrument pretty easy.” So she did.