Scales
Hadrian stared out the window of his dorm, focusing on the area of the forest that swam with magic.
Every magical creature had a magical aura, but the size and various colours hidden within the trees told him that there was not just one dragon but four. They wouldn’t be trading off with the same one; No, there was one for each champion.
Unlike ordinary wizards, magical creatures and beings had a particular sheen to their magical aura. Looking at Fleur was different than looking at Daphne. While the two witches could often be mistaken as sisters, their magic spoke differently.
Daphne, unlike other witches, had an aura that still shimmered with the strength of her family’s magic. It was like looking at tiny diamonds, snowflakes if you will, against a pale blue sky. But Fleur? Fleur was something else entirely. Looking at her aura was like being blinded by the sun. Her skin itself shone like a polished golden temple statue, and her aura floated around her in delicate formations as if the golden particles were dancing flames.
Martin Fournier, who was a direct descendant of his veela mother, had a strong forest green aura that shimmered with golden energy. The deep golden hue Hadrian now understood came from the Veela magic. After all, he had those golden flecks swirling around his own aura.
After meeting his new French relatives, Hadrian had taken a closer look at those he was familiar with. Fleur had helped him tune his gift to search and tug at the hidden shimmers from the auras around him; he was not disappointed.
There were far more gifted students than he ever imagined.
Blaise’s blue aura was far more than the gentle waves he once saw; the hidden sapphires shone with a ferocity he had never seen. He was sure he could almost hear the surf crashing against a craggy shoreline if he stared too long. He didn’t know anything of Blaise’s lineage, but the Italian was far more intriguing than he had ever been.
Ron Weasley was another who surprised him. Over the past few weeks, Hadrian watched the boy’s ordinary crimson aura morph into a sea of shimmering magic. Where the boy was previously a dying flame, he was now a raging inferno of gleaming rubies.
He knew Theo had a connection with the bluecaps; his blue flames were a dead giveaway on top of the fact that Hermione confirmed his suspicions. Theo’s aura had never hidden from Hadrian, much like his brother’s and Daphne’s. Each of them danced with the shimmering light that complimented their strong auras.
There were others as well, others that Hadrian was not as familiar with.
He watched as the small auras of the dragon handlers weaved through the four large sparkling auras of the dragons: Crimson, sapphire, golden, and emerald. The sight brought back a memory of trying to grasp Ron’s mutterings.
‘Four. Why four?’
‘Red, blue, yellow and green.’
Ron Weasley had seen this. He had predicted what was to come before he even mastered the art of his gift.
“Come along, Hades. You’ll need a full stomach.”
Hadrian turned from the window and nodded to his father before following him.
They walked in silence across the lawn and up to the castle. Hadrian and the other champions were still required to dine in the great hall, so he made his way over to the Hufflepuff table, joining Viktor and Fleur, who were already there.
Fleur smiled softly, “Nervous?”
He shook his head, “I just want it to be over with.”
Viktor, who had opened up to the others when training in the room of requirement, laughed, “Where’s the fun in that?”
“You entered, I didn’t.” Hadrian sent the Bulgarian a glare, “I don’t see any of this as fun.”
Cedric clasped him on the shoulder as he joined their group at the end of the table, “It may be a burden, Hadrian, but look at it like any other quidditch match; That’s what I’m doing.”
Hadrian rolled his eyes, “It’s not like I’m racing a dragon; I don’t see how it’s anything like quidditch.”
Viktor exchanged a sly smile with Cedric, “Racing a dragon… that sounds like a sport Durmstrang could get behind.”
Fleur sniffed disapprovingly at Cedric’s contemplative expression, “Boys.”
“Champions.”
All four heads turned towards Professor McGonagall, “The four of you are wanted out front. Mr. Bagman will be escorting you all to the champion’s tent.”
Cedric sighed, “So much for breakfast.”
McGonagall smiled softly, “Good luck.”
Hadrian and the other champions dutifully followed the over-excited man down the green to the edge of the forest. They walked along the edge of the forest before coming across a large white tent. Mr. Bagman held the flap open and gestured them all inside.
Mr. Flint stood inside with the headmasters. He held up a writhing silken bag, “I hold the answer to what you will face. Each of you will reach into the bag and retrieve your opponent. There will be a collar which lists the order in which you will participate.” He eyed each of them to make sure they understood, “Who would like to go first?”
Krum shrugged and stepped forward, reaching his hand into the bag. A moment later, he withdrew, holding a tiny red dragon that darted around his palm.
“The Chinese Fireball. You shall be third in the lineup.”
Hadrian noted that the dragon had four legs and was a far cry from the Chinese dragons of legend. He guessed this was what Ana had meant when he said some dragons still retained the name. He wondered how many generations it had taken for the Chinese fireball to lose its original form.
Cedric reached into the bag next, pulling out a small blue dragon, a wyvern based on the fact that its front legs were technically its wings.
“The Swedish Short Snout. You will be starting us all off.”
Fleur followed, retrieving a tiny green dragon. It was thinner than all the others, and its wings were far smaller as it had less weight to lift.
“Ah, the Common Welsh Green. You will tackle your dragon second.”
Finally, it was Hadrian’s turn. Reaching into the bag, he was met with instant pain as his opponent tried to taste his fingers. He withdrew his hand to see the tiny black dragon model dangling from his index finger by its needle-sharp teeth.
Flint grimaced, “Which leaves our fourth competitor facing the Hungarian Horntail.”
Hadrian glared at the black dragon, its thick legs clawing at his palm as it tried to escape. It was stocky with large wings that curled against the entire length of its body as it searched the lines of his palm.
“Mr. Diggory, when you hear the cannon blast, that is your signal to enter the arena through that tunnel. At each additional blast, the next competitor will enter the arena. You will receive your points when all have completed the task.”
Hadrian and the others nodded in understanding.
Silas smiled, “Excellent. I will join the judges, and we shall begin in about twenty minutes.”
Hadrian sighed and fell into an armchair, the others doing the same.
“Cedric?”
All eyes flew up to the newcomer.
“Cho?”
The Asian girl smiled sweetly, “I just wanted to wish you luck.”
Cedric smiled a lopsided grin, “Thanks, Cho!”
The girl smiled once more before disappearing.
Fleur’s head swivelled back to smirk at the Hufflepuff, “It looks like someone has an admirer.”
Hadrian chuckled, “She’s a good seeker; she’ll keep you on your toes.”
Cedric shook his head and laughed, “Like Daphne keeps you on yours?”
Krum’s head shot to attention, “You are with the blonde?”
Hadrian smiled slowly, knowing where Krum was leading him, “I am.”
“Not the curly-haired one?”
He laughed, “Hermione? No, she’s my cousin.”
Cedric shrugged, “You are a Black; cousins aren’t off limits to your lot.”
Hadrian rolled his eyes but definitely noted the contemplative look on Krum’s face. Oh, Theo was going to be pissed.
He was jolted from his musings by the sound of cannon fire.
Cedric breathed deeply as he stood.
Fleur smiled softly, “Good luck, Cedric.”
The three champions were silent as they listened to the roar of the dragon and the crowd. They couldn’t hear the commentator’s remarks; most likely, the tent was charmed, so they didn’t copy ideas.
In no time, Fleur and then Krum were leaving the tent.
Hadrian sat on the edge of his seat, his thumb rotating his rings in anticipation.
Finally, the fourth cannon blast sounded.
Hadrian stood and made his way down the canvas tunnel.
He stepped out into a giant arena that had been carved into the ground. He could see the stands and the judge’s podium above a twenty-foot wall of earthen stone. He assumed this was to keep the dragon from escaping. It oddly reminded him of the Colosseum.
His eyes scanned the floor of the arena, taking in the large boulders and obstacles in between him and the giant black mass at the opposite wall.
The black mass stared at him with large golden eyes, waiting for him to make a move.
It radiated a strong golden aura, shimmering like the rarest of goblin artefacts. While most goblin-made weapons and jewelry were of silver, the truly valuable was of goblin gold. Not the cheap gold that was used to make galleons but the gold that was retrieved from the paths of the ley lines. It sang with a magical energy that no other metal could claim. The Hungarian horntail in front of him put those priceless artefacts to shame.
He couldn’t make out a nest, so he could only assume the dragon was perched on top of it, protecting it from him.
Taking a deep breath and hoping that Ana had been right, Hadrian took a step forward.
The horntail leapt from its crouched position and growled, sparks escaping its bared teeth.
Hadrian watched as its aura shifted. Instead of pooling around the dragon, it was sucked in as if the beast had taken a large breath. It appeared that a dragon’s flame was an extension of their own magic. The golden aura swirled into a tight ball at the center of its chest before exploding outward in a plume of fire. A plume that was heading straight towards him.
Dropping to his knee, Hadrian threw out his hand, trying to split the bombardment of magic heading toward him. As he hoped the Emrys gift would be enough to divert the dragon’s fire, he also tapped into his core. It had taken multiple times practicing with Ana before he was able to connect with the bond of Anithra in a way that he had never done before.
Hadrian reached for the bond and latched a hold, feeling it writhing in his grasp as a serpent would. The bond was cold, and the longer he held onto it, the more he felt of it. With only seconds available, he pulled at the bond, his core shoving it outward.
The heat of the dragon flame ran up his arms and over his head, but he never felt the red-hot agony of burning alive. The flames tingled as if he had performed a mere flame-freezing charm, only that charm didn’t work with dragon flame.
~You are serpent bound.~
Her voice was gravely, and the words clipped.
Startled, Hadrian croaked out, ~I am.~
The dragon prowled forward, its massive claws digging trenches into the soil, ~Why do you approach my clutch?~
~There is a false one hidden in your clutch. They,~ Hadrian pointed toward the judges, ~require me to retrieve it, or I forfeit my magic.~
The dragon ceased its advancement to glare at the judges. It snorted small flames towards their podium, causing most to jump, even with the protective barrier in place. Hadrian didn’t miss his father’s laughter.
The dragon's head lowered, her snout pushing down on him and causing him to fall backwards. She breathed deeply, ~You smell of the ancients.~
Hadrian shivered at the feel of her magic latching onto his own, ~My ancestor advised the Pendragons.~
The dragon chuckled, its hot breath tickling his skin, ~No. You smell of Great Mother. Magic and Death are coursing through you.~
Hadrian nodded, trying not to think about her teeth mere feet away from him, ~I have met them.~
The dragon stared down at him, unblinking, ~You are their chosen then?~
He could only nod, hoping that he had interpreted their summertime meetings correctly.
The dragon's mouth opened and curved upward. She rose from her crouched position above him and prowled over to her nest. With a snarl of disgust, she plucked the false egg from the nest with her talons and returned to Hadrian, who had regained his footing.
She set the egg before him and leaned over it, hovering only a foot away from Hadrian’s face, ~As Great Mother has chosen you as her champion, you shall have my wings, my talons, and my teeth if you ever need them, little king.~
He stared up into her golden eyes, avoiding looking at her massive teeth, ~I am no king.~
The dragon rose to her full height and stared down at him, her mouth curving upward, another attempt at a smile, ~The Pendragons may have won our souls, but you shall have our allegiance. The word will spread, Champion of Great Mother. When you are crowned and need our aid, the dragon born will answer.~
With that, she turned and hurried over to her clutch, blowing gentle flames on them before climbing on top of the nest. She stared at him for a moment before tucking her head beneath her wing.
Hadrian slowly leaned forward and picked up the egg. He held it out in his green-scaled hands, observing it momentarily before turning on his heel and marching from the arena.
It wasn't until he made it to the tent that the crowd began to cheer.
"What in the bloody hell happened to you?"
Hadrian glanced up to see Cedric staring wide-eyed at him while Madam Pomfrey bandaged his shoulder.
He grinned and held his hand up, "Basilisk skin."
Cedric huffed, "Let me guess, flame repelling?"
Hadrian grinned, "Appears so."
Fleur enveloped him in a tight hug, mumbling softly into his ear, “Potter luck.”
Cedric rolled his eyes and then winced as the bandage rubbed against his burnt skin, "There was quite a bit of roaring out there; how'd you fair?"
Hadrian laughed as Krum also leaned in, listening, "She gave me the egg after I told her the judges wished for me to take it or forfeit my magic."
Cedric groaned, "I hate you right now.”
Fleur laughed openly as she held him at arm's length, “I hope whoever entered you is seething.”
The corner of Viktor’s mouth twitched, “You have many secrets, yes?”
Hadrian could only laugh but stopped abruptly and shivered as the scales began to disappear slowly, leaving his body covered in goosebumps.
Ludo Bagman bounded into the tent, a smile plastered across his face, “Brilliant!”
All the champions turned toward him.
“If you are all seen to, we will be awarding the points.”
At Pomrey’s okay, the four champions followed Ludo from the tent back into the arena. The crowd roared with approval as Ludo pranced off to the judge’s podium.
“Give it up for our champions!” His energetic voice boomed over the arena. “Now, the moment we’ve been waiting for, the awarding of the points! Each champion has the chance to be awarded up to 60 points!”
He flicked his wand, and a spotlight fell on Cedric, “First up, Mr. Diggory, who achieved his task with a bit of transfiguration.” He waited as the judges each held up numbers, “A grand total of 48 points!”
The spotlight moved to Fleur, who Hadrian just noticed had lost half of her skirt to flames. “Secondly, Miss Delacour, who used her inherited abilities and charmed the dragon to sleep.” A moment later, the judges had cast their numbers, “46 points!”
“Next up, we have Mr. Krum! He showed us just why he’s so well known by gaining his egg with a marvellous display of flying!”
Hadrian shot Krum a look, which the young man smirked at.
“He is awarded 50 points!”
The spotlight moved to Hadrian.
“Lastly! Our youngest competitor, Mr. Black, used a combination of a flame-repellant skin and bartering in Parseltongue to acquire his egg in the least amount of time.”
Hadrian watched as each of the judges revealed their numbers. His father, 10. Bagman, 10. Flint, 10. Dumbledore, 8. Maxime, 8. Karkaroff, 4.
Hadrian had wanted to roll his eyes. Karkaroff had given Viktor a 10 and nobody else. At least Fleur’s headmistress wasn’t favouring her own student. His father had given everyone a 10. Most likely to annoy Brian.
“Mr. Black has tied for first place with Mr. Krum!”
__
Barty stared down at the group of champions, pissed but impressed.
He had not known that dragons could speak parseltongue. Nor had he known that the young Black could speak it. And the skin? The green scales… Oh, the little one was a worthy choice for his master.
He would have rather the beast bat him around for a moment, but the brat had lived.
For now…
—
Hadrian retired to the Black schoolhouse only to immediately venture to the Slytherin common room, his family on his heels.
The room was full of celebrating students who all still viewed Hadrian as one of their own.
“Black! Black! Black!”
He laughed at the chanting students and held up his egg in triumph. He was met with more cheers and clapping from the various students positioned around the room.
Severus raised a hand to settle the students, “Let’s not get too carried away; we don’t want our guests to think they’re in Gryffindor Tower, after all.”
His father scoffed as he lounged across one of the black leather armchairs, “No chance of making that mistake. The abundance of green and dampness could never fool me.”
Dudley chuckled as he prodded Hadrian’s arm. “Are you going to open it or not?”
Hadrian grinned and observed his classmates, “Who wants me to open it?”
He was met with another round of cheers, causing him to laugh as he sat the egg on the study table before him. The homework that had been sitting there was hastily moved aside by the students as they eagerly waited for the clue within the egg.
Hadrian took a deep breath before releasing the golden clasp. The sides of the egg fell away to reveal a shimmering globe inside, accompanied by an awful screeching sound that had everyone present covering their ears.
“Shut it!”
“My ears!”
But the creatures outside the large glass window all seemed to stop and turn toward the egg.
Hadrian slammed the egg shut, his ears ringing.
"Black!” a sixth-year yelled, “Open it underwater."
Hadrian slowly nodded to Cassius Bulstrode, Millicent’s older brother.
Severus conjured a tub of water and placed it before him on the table now acting as his podium. He bit his lip as he lowered the egg within and gently released the clasp.
Higgs, one of the chasers on the now-defunct Slytherin Quidditch team, had emptied a glass vase of flowers and held it up against the metal tub, hoping to amplify whatever sound the egg would now make.
… seek us where our voices sound,
We cannot sing above the ground,
And while you're searching, ponder this:
We've taken what you'll sorely miss,
An hour-long you'll have to look,
And to recover what we took.
Hadrian's eyes flicked to the window, where a grinning mermaid pressed its webbed hands against the glass, gnashing its sharklike teeth as it stared directly at him.
But past an hour - the prospect's black
Too late, it's gone; it won't come back.
He sucked in a sharp breath as he watched the teeth clench and unclench repeatedly, "Does anyone know of a way to breath underwater for an hour?"
He heard many suggestions mentioned around the room, but as his eyes were still glued to the mermaid, he hardly registered them.
Thomas Belby frowned, "Better question: how are we going to watch what happens in the task? It's not like the rest of us will be underwater."
Gemma smacked his arm while Hermione nodded thoughtfully, "Sounds like a rather poor lack of planning."
Pansy, however, was grinning madly, "Lord Black, do you think you could spare a few of your mirrors?"
Sirius's brow rose while Daphne laughed, "Sorcerer’s stone?"
Pansy smirked, "Imagine the possibilities. Attach a mirror to each champion and have the partner mirror expanded into a massive mirror everyone could watch."
Hermione grinned widely, "Like a TV screen!"
Sirius shot a confused look over to a contemplative Severus.
Theo, who had spent quite a bit of time in the muggle world over the years with Hermione, smirked, "Think bigger. Imagine duplicating the receiving mirrors so all of Britain could watch."
Gemma blinked, "That's ingenious."
Pansy preened and winked at Theo.
Hermione glared at the girl before turning to Sirius, "Sirius, do you think we could possibly mass-produce the mirrors."
Sirius nodded slowly, “I can, but I would rather no one be able to replicate my work. I don’t like the idea of others using something that was meant only for family.”
Hermione shook her head, “No, you only reproduce the receiving mirrors. There can be transmitting mirrors that only you or those you approve are able to control; that way, your work can’t be used against you.”
“And,” Gemma cut in, “if you layer charms over the original charmwork, you can reduce the risk of someone duplicating it.”
Draco met his eyes and slowly grinned, “No. We’ll use runes.” ~Parselrunes.~
His father looked thoughtful, “I’ll have to see how it would work.”
Pansy waved her hand, “We’ll show you later. The important thing is that you can do it.”
Hadrian glanced at his friends, “Seriously though, breathing underwater seems like a far more important topic.”
Neville clapped him on the back, “All you need is some gillyweed. I’m sure Severus here can import some of the Mediterranean variety. It tends to last a bit longer than what you’d find in the Black Lake.”
Severus nodded to Hadrian after giving Neville an impressed look.
Blaise, who had been abnormally silent among them, finally spoke up, “I feel like you should focus on what will surely be missed. That part sounded a bit ominous.”