Harry Potter - Hellion!

 

May seventh, 1982

Early that morning, Harry walked out of the forest, feeling refreshed. He had taken his Arctic Fox fur and looks, unaware that the species was a total unknown in these woods. White foxes did occur, but not that late in spring. He made his way to the pond, took a drink at the edge, and hunted down a rabbit. A nap on the warming rock he had met the little kid might be a good idea, as he digested his breakfast. He added a fat rat on his way to said rock, and lay down.

From the second floor window, Narcissa noticed the strange fox, and added ‘fox’ to the list of shapes available to Mr. Potter. She walked down quickly to make sure the garbage was on the way out, and to keep them from snooping around and lay eyes on the fox. Alecto would go nuts for a white fur coat. She would not mind seeing the Carrows converted to steaks, but that was not something Draco needed to contemplate.

"Dobby?"

POP!

"Yes, mistress?"

"Is the garbage out?"

"Not yet, mistress. Two are not morning persons."

"The Carrows. I will deal with them. I have had enough of Death-eaters to last me for a life-time. If Draco is up, make sure he does not get close to his window."

"Yes, mistress." And a pop later, Dobby was gone.

---

Narcissa made her way to the tea room, to find the Carrows being difficult to Rosier. Alecto thought dawn was too early to wake up, and Amycus kept snoring away, as Evan kicked him repeatedly in the ribs.

"What is the meaning of this, Malfoy?" hollered Alecto, pointing to Rosier, who ignored her arrival in favor of trying to wake Amycus from the dead.

"That, Alecto, is the terms of hospitality you and the others agreed to last night. You are to be out at dawn, and it is now half past. I hereby rescind hospitality. And, Alecto. Do not ever come back. This goes for your brother as well."

"When the Master hears of it, Narcissa, your son will pay for your disrespect."

That infuriated Narcissa, but she kept quiet. She took three tiny copper coins, showing them to Rosier.

"Where do you want your portal to deliver you?"

"Scotland. Say the alley behind the tavern that leads into the magical enclave."

"So be it. Portus!" The spell repeated three times, each coin became a portkey.

"Alecto! Catch!" Narcissa said, unblinking, as she threw one copper coin at Alecto, whom vanished on touching the portkey.

Narcissa then quickly landed the second on Amycus, whom vanished as well.

"Before I go and touch that death-trap, Narcissa, where did you deliver them to, really?"

"In the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, by eleven thousand meters depth. They are crushed by the water by now, no thicker than crepes. Threatening Draco sealed her fate, and I know Amycus was no better. He will not wake up on this side, but wonder how come his nuts are getting roasted."

"You are one dangerous person, Narcissa. I shall remember never to cross you... or take a portkey from you. I shall take myself out the front door, if you do not mind. I plan to stay alive for a while still."

Rosier made good his escape by keeping close watch on Narcissa. He was well aware she only needed to throw the portkey on him for it to activate on contact, as the two Carrows had clearly demonstrated. On the other hand, Narcissa was deeply frustrated. She had hoped to rid the world of Rosier, but it seems he might need a more powerful ‘herbicide’. Once Rosier was out of the ward, she denied him entry on their lands. They would be safe until he returned with the Dark Lord, if he ever found the shade. Maybe, by then, Potter would have grown enough to really finish him off. She needed to understand what kept the bastard anchored to this world. He should have taken a trip to report to his master, one with horns, red, scaly skin, and bad breath worthy of a skunk’s ass. Narcissa deactivated the left-over portkey. Draco liked the sound of coins, and that coin could kill him as well as an Avada Kavadra spell could.

---

"Itsy!"

POP!

"Yes, mistress?"

"Clean up the tea room from ceiling to floor, as well as the water closet nearby. Banish everything touched by the visitors. Even the carpet and tables. I want both rooms bare to the wall, except for the portraits. Redecorate in green and blue, a sea theme if you would. And ventilate. I want the smell of these... skunks out of my house!"

"Yes mistress! Gladly!"

POP!

---

Narcissa made her way to her boudoir, took her breakfast quickly, looking outside. The fox was still there, leisurely enjoying the sun. Then, without notice, it changed to a snake form, an adder, if her eyes were not mistaken. Potter, it seems, was full of surprises. The snake coiled on the warmer rock, soaking in the heat.

Draco made his way to his mom’s rooms with Dobby, wearing long pants, a long-sleeved shirt, a sweater, socks and shoes. The manor was cold in the early hours of the day, as the fireplaces had not had time to diffuse their heat around. Wood fires might have a touch of romanticism to them, but they sure were difficult to maintain all night, even with house help.

"Dobby, play with Draco inside while I go out to the owlery to send the mail." That was one thing she disliked about the Malfoy manor. The owlery had been built in a reconverted bell tower, and reaching the owls was a nerve-racking experience, not for the faint-hearted. Draco hated the climb up there, suffering from repeated bouts of vertigo. She had taken this excuse so Draco would not do a scene and ask to go out with her.

Narcissa made her way to the back door of the left wing of the manor, near the rock where she had last seen the snake, hoping it was still there. She slowly walked to the bench across the little stream that left the fish pond and sat down. How to get the snake’s attention without getting bitten, that was the question. She watched the snake sunbath, and then suddenly change to a runespoor. No more doubts could be held, the underlying entity was magical, as a runespoor was magical by definition, and only magical beings could produce magical beings, even if few mages could do so, and so fluidly. The snake had changed form during its sleep, for Merlin’s sake!

Narcissa decided to softly call out, hoping not to startle the snake, yet aware that snakes had poor hearing, if great ground vibration senses.

"Harry... Wake up, Harry..." she gently repeated, hoping her voice would bring some memories of Mrs. Potter to the surface and prevent an attack, or a run for shelter. "Harry... Wake up, Harry..."

The snake had been awoken long before Narcissa sat down on the bench by her steps on the ground, which had resonated like the drums of war to his acute sense of touch. He had monitored her actions, or, more to the point, lack thereof. As he listened to the musical voice, it triggered in him a long-lost feeling of longing. Someone had once called him Harry, in another life, someone that evoked safety, warmth, well-being, and so much more. Yet, it was not the one. It did not taste the same. So Harry the snake ignored Lady Black Malfoy.

After fifteen minutes of gentle calling, Narcissa decided the snake would not come to her call, and returned home, a bit depressed. As she turned around, she saw the snake change again, to a garden gnome, then to a Forest Elf? It seemed Mr. Potter was going through a review of the shapes he had acquired, totally ignoring her as a non-entity. Cat, dog, hedgehog, bear, squirrel, owl, fox, wolf, falcon, and some animals she had never heard of followed in very quick succession. A veritable menagerie flashed on that rock, taking a sleeping pose for a few seconds each time. Bipeds intermixed with quadrupeds, winged with land-locked. If a silent demonstration of power was ever set forth, she was a privileged witness to it. Voldemort’s power was a sham, compared to this. Then came the Phoenix, the Grimm, and the High Elf. That sequence shocked her to the core. Rebirth, Death, and Magic embodied in a single person. What Voldemort had tried to do but failed miserably in ever getting near. To think Evan Rosier had sent mere death-eaters against such a force of nature was laughable. Only missing was the symbol of Life, the Sphinx, and she realized it was not there because the two had not met yet. The High Elf flashed away, as a Hungarian Horntail appeared eight hundred feet above her home and flew away toward the Forest of Dean.

---

Deep underground, in a secret military base, the 502^nd RAF wing went on alert. Satellites had been focused by the dozen to cover the British Isles, in an effort to get a glimpse of the evasive Dragon, the only target of sufficient size to be ‘easily’ detectable from space. Every service went on red alert, and the commander called the Queen using his direct line to Her Majesty, something not used since the onset of World War II, when the Germans invaded Poland.

"Yes?" answered the MI5 official on duty.

"Notify Omega-One team. Forest of Dean. South-west edge. Visual confirmation of target by satellite, Loch-NESS Five-O-Five. Tracking. Out." (NESS: Near Earth Surveillance System, composed of low-orbit satellites numbering several hundred, and used for strategic monitoring of enemy troop movements on the ground.)

---

Less than three minutes later, the Longbottoms, Black, and Lupin, each side-apparating two muggles of the SAS, made to the first reported location of the dragon. A total of eleven made up the team. They found themselves on the south-west edge of the forest, just in time to see the dragon dive and poof out of existence.

"We have visual confirmation, DS-Alpha." radioed the communications specialist.

"Do you think it ported?" asked Frank.

"No, there was no telltale bang. It shifted to a less visible form, probably a bird of some sort. Let us go up that lane. It leads toward the coordinates calculated from the satellite pictures. Strange. There should be a mansion or manor visible from here. The muggle pictures are so clear it begs to wonder if if is safe to take a pee outside. I could have sworn I could count the grass blades in the front yard!"

"I am surprised you are worried only about that, Sirius. We did a lot of... push-ups on ladies in the open fields of Hogwarts. If they had really quick pictures, they could probably count the number of strokes before we fired away."

"Frank! Your wife is here!"

"Sirius, he took my cherry in the field, and the hay was not even dry."

"Let us walk up that lane and figure out what is happening. We have some questions needing answers and exchanging ribald comments about our school-years’ indiscretions is not helping us finding them."

Ten minutes later, the muggles began acting strangely, turning back every step, wondering what they were doing there, and making a nuisance of themselves. The mages looked at each other, wide-eyed: a muggle repellant ward was slowing their progress.

"Grab two, and you SAS guys, close your eyes. Let us guide you."

A tense five minutes later, the muggle leader relaxed.

"Can I open my eyes now? I do not feel that pressure to turn and run anymore."

"Yes, you are past the ward. There is another one ahead, that is an illusion ward, so ignore what you see. We are unsure of what lies beyond, but what you do see is not what is."

For the mages and the muggles, the view was a bit depressive: a ramshackle building, in ruins, and giving all signs of having been destroyed by a raging inferno, was visible from the lane. A trail led to a fallen gate that lay in ruins across the path, with a wall of darkened and eroded chalk could be seen from the road, its interstices eaten by a profusion of spiny vines.

"That looks abandoned," said one of the mundanes.

"Looks is the keyword here. It is an illusion. Follow us. Things could change at any step. We take that entrance-way, which seems to be an abandoned carriage drive," replied Frank, taking the lead.

"Try to keep in touch with us, in a row, guys. Dispersing yourselves might lead to getting lost, and I would not put it beyond those that went that far to have put in some rather nasty traps for the unweary," Sirius added.

After another three minutes, the ward was passed and the scenery changed again. There, in full view, was a perfectly formed gate made up of polished bronze and with a monogrammed initial: ‘M M’.

"Who goes by M M?" asked Alice.

"That is probably the Manor’s name. The real question is whom has a name starting with M?"

"Quite a few old bloods, most of which were either killed by Voldemort or by the Queen, my dear. Let us push the gate and get in."

"Should we not ring the bell before?" asked a little bit too naïve muggle.

"We are under Omega-One, and we can dispense with ringing a bell. It is also quite possible there is nobody at home, and we could take root here before getting an answer. The other point is, most magical manors, especially those of pure-bloods, dispense with electricity, as they see it below them," Black answered.

The intervention team walked warily along the well-maintained carriage path, composed of white marble gravel, and saw it curve gracefully toward a rather impressive manor. Along the paths were roses bushes that were beginning to flower, and, in the distance, a barn with white horses, too far to be identified. Trees centuries old were evenly spaced along the path, burgeoning with the new spring. Tables in cast iron, swings in fancy sculptured wood and tainted in deep red dotted the grass.

"I have a feeling I have been here before, but I can not remember. It has been years," said Sirius.

The group reached the porch steps, and aligned themselves in two five-wide rows, with Sirius in the lead.

"We may have Omega-One privileges, but I doubt the owner knows anything about it, its meanings, and how far-reaching our powers are. I suggest you follow my lead in all circumstances. A breach of hospitality would not serve us, and we shall fall back on the oldest etiquette ever created on the Islands, the Druids’."

Everyone nodded, even the muggles, that had no idea that Druids had etiquette!

"Do not look at me like that. The Druids took their lessons from the High Elves. As I have no idea of their etiquette, I am falling back on the one system I do know. Ready?"

A series of nods later, Sirius lifted the knocker, a small griffin, and let it fall three times.

"May the Gods help us", he whispered, loud enough to be heard by everyone.

---

Three minutes to the dot after knocking, the door opened. This confirmed to Sirius this house was ruled by Druid etiquette, to a t. A house-elf, wearing an immaculately white tea towel in the form of a toga appeared.

"Yes?" he asked in a squeaky voice.

"May we request a meeting with the Master of Rights?" clearly placing himself and his party under the rules of Druidic hospitality.

"Please come in and follow me to the hall of welcome." replied the house-elf, again conforming to said rules.

The elf led them to a rather wide room with seats along the right wall, that had another door at the end.

"Please wait here while I ask Mistress if she can receive you. There is wine and water on the table, along the left wall, as well as canapé." With that the house-elf left.

"Who is that?" asked a troubled muggle.

"A house-elf. Rule one. Take a small glass of wine, but not a bottle! Rule two. Take a canapé, no more than one. Rule three. Make sure you sip the wine glass, as it must last until the elf or the Master returns. Rule four: nibble on the canapé, as you will not get another until the meeting starts, if it does. You are not here to get drunk or pig on the food. These are finger foods, teasers if you wish, not a meal," Sirius explained. "Notice the rigid little round plates made of folded parchment? These are your plates. You are to take one at the near end, make your selection, and then progress to the wine. As Druidic hospitality dictates, there are three dishes, and three wines. You can ask me if you do not know what goes with what, but, normally, you decide by yourself. When your selection is made, move to the chairs on the other side. The first chair at the far end is mine, as leader of ceremony for our group. Notice the number three is recurrent: three knocks, three types of canapés, three wines, and we followed the elf to the third door of the hallway. Everything is in three, remember that. While I have you to myself, this is a lady we are to meet: a bow is in three steps: bend, hold, and stand up. The lady probably expects us to bend to forty-five degrees. Do so, whomever she is. We are under her hospitality, her roof, and are in her domain. Do not forget it. Follow my lead, please."

"Why not three canapés?" asked the muggle commander.

"Simple: Canapé one: introduction. Canapé two: reason for visit; canapé three: invitation to share a meal or to leave. Simple."

"So you say. We will do our best."

"I hope so."

The group sat at the chairs after picking their wine and morsel.

"How long do we have to wait?"

"The longer we wait, the better our chances of getting a meeting. That is the goal here. Generally, it is around half an hour. After all, the lady has to get ready as we came without warning. The fancier she is, the longer the wait."

"The more snobbish?"

"Yes, young man, but keep that to yourself, please."

Forty-five minutes later, the far door opened and in walked Narcissa Black – Malfoy, her regal stature and slow pace designed to get the message across: she was in Her castle, and no one would step on her toes. Sirius stood up, followed by the others. The mages barely managed to control their composure at the appearance of Narcissa. She made her way to Sirius, recognizing his leadership of the group.

"Lord Black. I did not expect your visit this day."

Sirius bowed, and answered truthfully.

"I did not expect to meet you today either, Lady Narcissa Black – Malfoy."

The muggles were slightly taken aback by the common name of the two, but held tight.

"Introduce your companions, Lord Black."

The mages were quickly dealt with, and Narcissa was surprised by the presence of muggles in her lands, and her property, but she hid it well. She was also rather impressed at the effort the muggles made to conform to hospitality, thus depriving her of the right to kick them out. Clumsiness was not an excuse to break hospitality rules.

The first fineries dealt with, Narcissa made her way to the canapés, took one, and a glass of white wine. This allowed the others to proceed to the table and take one and to refill their glass. Again, Narcissa was impressed. The muggles had walked through another trap flawlessly. Sirius must have trained them for days! Lady Malfoy sat at the front of the line of chairs, and waited for the others to sit. As Sirius sat, she looked at him expectantly. Sirius knew better than to talk first, so, after the requisite three-minute wait, Narcissa bowed to the rules.

"And what, Lord Black, has you walk to my door and ask for hospitality?"

Now came the delicate part, thought Sirius.

"Lady Malfoy, it has come to the attention of the muggle government that a dragon flew over your property. We are tasked to find him. Realize, we are only wanting to find the dragon, not to capture it. Both the Queen and us are aware this is impossible."

 

"And why is that?"

"The Dragon is a... a shape-shifter. A mage. Whatever we do, the mage must come freely to us, not forced into submission."

"That is new from the ministry, who has had a rather strong-armed policy concerning roaming magical life-forms."

"The ministry is not involved. This is the mundane Court that is giving us the authority to search for it. Her Majesty the Queen has vested interest in this mage."

"Vested interests? Of what nature?"

"Of Camelot nature, and I am not at liberty to tell you more. It is protected by the Laws of Old."

"This is very interesting. Please join me at lunch. I need to figure out some things." Narcissa understood clearly that the situation was much more than what these simple words said. Invoking the Laws of Camelot far outstripped the laws of Hospitality under which she had operated. She needed to know more.

She stood up, and took another canapé and a glass of wine, thus sealing the invitation. Sirius, understanding the meaning of the move, did the same and offered his arm to Lady Malfoy. She led them to the dining hall, where a table set for twelve was waiting.