Fever Dream Flashback
Lessie's POV:
Everything came in flashes of bright lights and flames. One second, I was gasping for air and screaming in pain surrounded by swirling blurs murmuring. I could make out the vague shapes of people dressed in white, moving frantically. I tried to focus but the pain was so intense my sight faulted, and someone was screaming, crying, pleading. Was it me?
One of the shapes stepped forward blocking out the offense brightness, then I was back in darkness. No feeling, just silence. My body was floating in a liminal space. There was a whisper in my ear, that had the semblance of words, but I couldn’t quite place it.
_-_-_-_-_-_
I opened my eyes and found my self in a light pink room. Floral motifs decorated the walls, ivy and vines finishing off in plush blooms. The rest of the room totted walnut colored wooden furniture. A small desk covered in parchment, books and various knick-knacks sat in the corner with a matching bureau to its right. Picture frames showed a smiling seven-year-old me with my parents at a couple different events.
I looked down at my hands and found them smooth and unscarred, softer than I was used to.
What is going on?
I was pulled from my thoughts at the sounds of a gruff baritone voice.
“Toasts done! Get it while it’s hot!”
I sat up, breathing rapidly, and set my feet on the floor. My body moved of its own accord as if I was merely a passenger, locked in. Socks encased my feet; the soft wool climbed my legs stopping just below my mid-thigh. Followed by an old pair of knee breeches that had once been a deep cerulean, faded and dulled by overuse. My hands buttoned me into a billowy overshirt with sleeves the reminded me of a pirate from one of those action novels, followed by a vest. I took a keen into the mirror attached to the wall and smile at myself.
Once dressed I made my way out of the room towards the baritone and the scent of fresh baked bread and lingonberry jam. The spiral staircase creaked under my feet as I descended into a homey kitchen, modest in size with a small square table in front of a fireplace. The owner of the voice sat with a steaming cup of tea and a large tome opened on the table in front of them, carefully scribbling notes into the margins.
They looked up and smiled, deep set blue eyes emanating warmth as they motioned to the stool across from them. A hand raked through their black fizzy hair pulling it back behind an ear, before returning to pick up the quill and resume their scribbles.
“Can you believe that Grover and Talpin thought that the Purvian Glowback and the Vipertooth were one in the same up until 1864? It’s absurd!” He shook his head in consternation, the scribbling stopping once more, and they made to pick up a piece of toast.
“Well, we can’t all be prodigies in our respective fields now can we Uncle Barney?” I let out a snort and mimicked his actions picking up a thick slice. I took the knife resting in the jar, scooping out a ludicrous amount of jam and slathered it on the warm bread as he continued the conversation.
“That is true, however I still can’t understand how these men can call themselves Dragonologists when they refuse to meet these creatures half way. Think of all the wonderful discoveries we could make if only more wizards focused on the behavior behind motivations instead of classifying them as dangerous.”
I rolled my eyes, savoring the sweetness of the lingonberries. I eyed the kettle debating on tea or water with my meal. Watching my eyes parry between the two options, Uncle Barnabas flicked his finger, using a non-verbal spell and the kettle came over pouring out a steady stream into my cup.
“Thank you,” I smiled, letting out a deep sigh. “I think you’re on to something there. Going to take the wizarding world by storm with this research! If I had magic, I think that I would like to focus on something similar.”
He scoffed at the notion.
“You don’t need magic to understand the inner workings of behavioral patterns. Plus, your leaps and bounds better than that layabout, Hollis. I don’t know why I keep him on as an apprentice when I have you right here eager to learn.”
Rolling my eyes, I brought the cup up to my mouth letting the steam tickled my nose. We both knew the reason he kept him on. I wasn’t able to do even the simplest of charms to help maintain the upkeep required for the beasts my uncle rehabbed. Sure, I could feed, and water, and fix mundane things as well as supply care and enrichment for the more docile species and hatchlings, however when push came to shove, I was useless for anything of importance.
Being the daughter of a muggle and a wizard had its perks, but at times it was upsetting knowing that I could be part of such a fantastical world, yet not take part in it. Especially, when all my friends had received letters to go off to Hogwarts. Here I was homeschooled and a squib. I was pulled out of my musings when the man in question came rushing into the kitchen in a huff.
Hollis Flowers, with his hollowed cheeks and silver hair, that seemed to have been cut haphazardly by a pair of gardening sheers, never looking quite right, stood hands on hips in triumph catching his breath. His glistening green eyes watched the scene before him discreetly, he had an air of ambiguity to him that I found unsettling at times, never quite knowing what was going on in that thick skull.
Perhaps it was the fact that we both shared an unfortunate past or perhaps it was simply his self-inflicted suffering, but nonetheless people tended to become his friend while helping him out whenever he asked. Many of the tasks Uncle Barnabas gave him out in the community would be handed off to one of Hollis’s many followers. I often wondered if the silver hair was in fact a result of his silver tongue as well, as he always seemed to turn situations in his favor.
“Hollis? Care for some breakfast?” Barnabas seems unplussed by the theatrics and instead made to stir cream into his second cup of tea, eyes never leaving the man in front of him.
“No time! It’s here! It’s finally here!”
“What’s here?” I asked, my curiosity piqued. Knowing Hollis it could be anything from a ball of twine to a manticore. The possibilities were endless. I looked between the both of them. The bored expression on my uncle soon turned to one of excitement as he slammed the book shut and stood up, his chair almost falling over.
“Where is it?”
“They have it by the west paddock, Selpie and the rest of the boys are unloading it as we speak. That’s why I ran all the way over here! Don’t worry though I gave them strict instructions not to open it unless they wanted to face a lashing from you.”
The men hurriedly made towards the exit, not stopping to say a goodbye in their flurry of excitement. I popped the last of the toast into my mouth as I made to stand. My hands wiped the crumbs from the front of my vest, and I followed after them, just as excited but knowing my place as a bystander.
The western paddock was one of the furthest from the house and held my uncle’s most prized boarders. Dragons seen by society to be unapproachable, the most dangerous of their species. The ones that he would refer to as his ‘little darlings’.
“Easy now boys, you don’t want to shake that crate too much. From the sounds of it, our new friend is starting to get some lucidity back.”
The men quickly finished, setting the crate inside an enclose with lush foliage and mountainous terrain. A lot of work had gone into making this enclosure. Uncle Barnabas and Hollis made their way inside, my body followed quickly on their heels. Hollis took up his wand, already having done this procedure a dozen times over.
Barnabas cast diffendo effectively severing the nails holding the crate together. Just as soon as the wood had dropped Hollis cast a protective sphere around us. In the middle of the fallen crate lay a copper-colored dragon, about 10 feet long. It blinked in the way that reptiles do, its third eyelid creating a creepy glaze over its matching copper eyes. The scales were smooth and somewhat dull. I had to stifle a laugh as I imagined the scales turning into a bunch of pennies.
“By Merlin, its extraordinary!” Uncle Barney whispered, making to sit cross-legged on the grass. He pulled a small sketchpad out of his pocket and set to work drawing out the new dragon. This was one of his many ways to catalog all the creatures who graced his home.
The dragon just lay there unperturbed by the fact it had three humans in such close proximity. This went on for about an hour, until the beast shakily leaned forward and began to wobbly walk around. The two men watched its movements, discussing ungulation and scale variations. My eyes followed the beast with a rock in the pit of my stomach. The ghost of premonition laying its icy fingers into my mind.
I have been here before
“ I….I think I need to go lay down.” I squeaked, causing both men to turn and look at me. The dark-haired one nodded to the lighter one and he gently took my arm, leading me towards the door to the pen. As we stepped out, I turned, taking one last look at Uncle Barnabas before making the trek back to the house with my escort. He was smiling like a kid on Christmas, filled with excitement and passion.
_-_-_-_-_-_
A guttural scream crawled up my throat as a searing pain shot threw my nerves. The sound muffled by the taste of feathers and cotton. Forcing my eyes open, I was greeted with blinding lights, only made worse by the whiteness of the room in which I was laying facedown. A hand began stroking my head, whispering platitudes and words of encouragement.
The ministrations to my back continued and when it was noted that I was in fact not going to listen to reason and cease my screams of pain at the prodding the voice called out for reinforcements.
“Matron, more of the draught quickly please. I fear she’ll tear open the grafts at this rate!”
A pair of feet came into view and a woman dressed much like the rest of room gently grabbed the bottom of my jaw and dumped the contents of a vial down my throat. It was minty and cool and almost instantly I felt relief. A cold wave passed over me, causing the fire to slowly recede. It was still there, dull, and achy but no longer all consuming.
“There, there dear. You are doing marvelous. Shhh, just go ahead and take another nap. We have a bit more work to do.”
I slowly started to close my eyes. Everything felt nice. I could faintly hear another voice join the fray, one pleading and distressed, but I was too blissful to care and instead followed the wise words of the Matron, letting the darkness take me once more.
It had been a week since the newest addition to Uncle Barney’s ‘little darlings’ had come, and she was making remarkable progress. Once it was determined that it was in fact a she and a juvenile at that, Hollis had gotten to work on expanding the western paddock. Allowing for more space for her to grow into. The men kept going on and on about how she was going to be double her size in no time.
With Uncle Barnabas spending all his time in the new pen I was left with the general upkeep of the others in his care. Currently we had four other dragons in residence, a Hebridean Black, lovingly dubbed ‘Hadrian’ after the Roman Emperor who had built a wall through the territory this species roamed, a Welsh green, who was due to be released at the end of the month, much to Hollis’ chagrin and two German Thunderbelly hatchlings. Putting on the protection amulet that Hollis had gifted me for my 15th birthday in the spring, I set off to the northern paddock to water and feed Hadrian.
I unlocked the shed containing the pump house. Putting on my thick leather gloves to protect my hands, I got to work pumping water into the large estuary that served as the Hebridean’s water bowl. It was a task that had made both my arms and back muscular over the past 8 years I had come into my uncle’s care. Hollis teased making more than one joke that I would have bad for a good beater had I had the ability to play quidditch.
As 10 minutes turned into 20, the estuary slowly filled. My least favorite part came next. Abutting Hadrian’s’ enclosure was another that contained a herd of sheep and roan deer. His fodder. The first time I had to do it I had cried for days agonizing over the cruel fate of the unsuspecting farm animals. However, as time passed it became easier. The circle of life had to continue and when faced with the possibility of an angry dragon or some dead sheep, the choice was obvious.
I released the lever that separated the two pens and a gaggle of about a dozen sheep and deer entered the dragon’s lair. A rumble could be heard as Hadrian entered the cleared space making for his dinner. The dragon sniffed and turned its head in my direction, amethyst eyes meeting my own and on instinct I lowered myself into a full bow. He let out some smoke from his nose in acknowledgement and I turned to leave making my way two the last two boarders.
By the time I had finished with the two hatchlings the tips of my gloves were singed and I was covered in soot. As adorable and affectionate as hand-reared hatchlings were they had no control over their craw. This often leads to incidents of accidental fire release, and in this case electrical sparkling. Approaching the Green’s pen, I spotted Hollis’ leaving the pump house.
“Wow! Finally taking your job seriously?” I raised an eyebrow shocked that he wasn’t off with Selpie and the boys.
He wiped a thick coat of sweat from his brow and gave me a lazy smile.
“Well, pretty soon Petunia here will be heading back to her homeland. Wanted to make sure I got enough observation time with her, ya’ know.”
“Uh-huh, sure.” I crossed my arms waiting for him to continue. He had a glint in his eyes. The one that meant he was buttering me up to help out with a ‘little’ project.
“Annnnnnnnnnd, I thought what with you being a young lady now you shouldn’t be taking on the brunt of my work.” He batted his eyelashes.
“Hogwash. What are you on about Hollis. Spit it out.”
He walked over, slinging his arm over my shoulder with brotherly affection.
“Barney is doing an overnight observation with the Vipertooth tonight. How funny would it be to spook him? We can sneak in and get him good!”
“You know we aren’t allowed to distract him when he’s bonding with the new dragons.”
“Oh, come on Les, what’s the worst that can happen? He’s a professional he’ll be safe.”
I shrugged out of his gripped and started walking back to the house. I had a weeks’ worth of math I had to sort out to hand into my tutor. I heard his brisk pace and turned just in time for him to grab my hand. He brought it up to eye level inspecting my ruined gloves.
“Come have fun and as a reward, I’ll get you a new pair. I know you’ve been eyeing those emerald dragonskin ones in Selpies’ shop. “
I let out a snort. “And just how do you expect to afford a pair of dragonskin gloves? We both know Uncle Barney doesn’t pay you that well.”
“Selpie owes me a favor a can cash in.” He gave me another wink as I acquiesced to his request.
We sat crouched in the thick brush, outside of the Vipertooths pen. Hollis, having figured the best course was to wait until he got up for a bathroom break before sneaking in. As if on cue we watched Uncle Barnabas leave the pen, not bothering to enchant the lock. We sat in silence waiting for the latch of the outhouse to click before we made our way inside.
“You wait on the other side of that rock, and I’ll be on this side. I don’t think the dragon is out roaming so you should be safe enough.”
I nodded in agreement but gulped. In my desire for the new gloves, I had forgot that this dragon was classified as a maneater. Highly dangerous. I mentally chastised myself. This was a stupid idea. My conscious came into play a little too late as I started to speak but was cut off my the eerie glow of copper colored eyes watching from the opposite side of the fire.
“H-Hollis!” I screamed in terror as everything sped up. One moment he was making a light-hearted joke and the next he was pleading for mercy in the jaws of the vipertooth. There was a sickening crunch and the beast dropped him. His body lay in two, completely limp smoking from where the dragon had split him in half. I felt bile rise in my throat and a hot flash encompass my body at the sound of Uncle Barney’s voice.
He ran into the pen, wand out casting spells left and right. I couldn’t focus, I just stood there in a puddle of my own vomit staring at a husk of flesh that had once been one of my closest friends. Barnabas yelled something but I couldn’t hear, grief and fear had given way to my other senses. That was until I heard his own cry of pain cut through the static.
After that moment everything became a blur of whirling blue light. I wasn’t myself. It felt as if I was made of thunder, my hair stood on end. The only thing on my mind, was the reoccurring mantra of, ‘No, not him too!’ After that, I had no memory. I came to, sitting among the carnage listening to my uncle moaning weakly fading in and out of consciousness.
There were a couple of sharp cracking sounds that I recognized. Strong hands lifted me from the ground, but I couldn’t think. There were more people than there should be, but I couldn’t speak or respond.
“He is going to be okay. We will take him to St. Mungo’s. You’re safe now.”
I looked at the man, eyes focusing on the emblem on his coat.
What is the Ministry doing here?