Wannabe (a Hogwarts Hero)

“If you want to meet the painter, you’ll need to ride the ride,” I smirk, handing out sleds as I stomp onto the top step, snapping the stairs back to waxed stone that has both Bill and Charlie gaping, then grinning, then rock-paper-scissoring for who gets to go first, but I’ve already man-handled Snape over and given him a ‘they’ll never hear you giggle’ sort of expression and he vanishes downward while the Weasley men both gape at me.

“He lets you push him around?” Bill asks, like it’s a huge scandal.

“I’m a fatemaker two hundred times older than this castle,” I say straight-faced.  “Yes, he does because more often than not, it’s to save a life or two.  Even if it doesn't, he'll let me because it still could save a life, somehow.”

They both stare at me, dumbfounded, until the little Syn and little Wyn duo holler out “Time to be a dragon and not a chicken!!!” And Charlie scowls, giving me an odd look.

"There's children down there?" He demands.

I huff a grin.  "Shades," I correct, then pause and add, "sort of."

When little clucking noises start, he scowls, drops his sled and tips forward, grinning with sharper than average teeth, and a whooping ‘wooooooooooooo’ as he spins out of sight and the kid's giggling ringing up from the bottom.

“Dragon?” Bill asks softly, looking worried.

I suck in a slow breath, meet his gaze, then nod.  “He mentioned scales in your presence for a reason.  Dragon poachers shot him.  Dragon magic saved him.”

Bill goes pasty white for half a minute before Charlie’s calling up the well.  “You coming, Billy?”

Bill breathes deep for a few more seconds, then nods understanding, drops his sled and finally breaks halfway down the well and cackles.  I lock the office up, then giggle-spin-slide my own way down.

***

At the bottom, Bill and Charlie are gaping at the foyer paintings until little Syn spots me and waves me forward.

“She’s dead now?” She demands weakly and little Wyn grips her hand and squeezes.

“Very,” I assure, finally able to relax a little and they do the same in response.

“Good,” Wyn growls and Syn nods.

“Mother of Merlin,” Bill breathes out, head snapping back and forth from Syn to me and back again while little Syn and I roll our eyes in unison until Charlie gapes too.  “You’re—“

“A fatemaker with a unique history?” I cut in, then smile brightly.  “Yup!  Now… to the gallows,” I huff, slumping my way toward Wyn’s hallway.

“Don’t pout,” Snape sighs like it’s annoying, even with that teasing twinkle in his eye. “He won’t rib you for more than… oh, ten years?  Twenty maybe?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I grumble, knocking my shoulder lightly into him as I lead the way down Wyn's hall. “C’mon, may as well get it over with.”

I’m pretty sure Charlie and Bill are trading either amused or worried looks behind us, but they follow anyhow.

***

“I hate you,” I lie to the mostly-empty painting where Wyn has cackled himself onto the ground and out of sight again before he settles for snickers as he regains his feet, still grinning, but finally looks past me again at, yes… the dragon I accidentally made.

“So,” Wyn finally coughs out in an effort to be serious while I flick a few chairs into existence for the Weasley men to settle into while Snape hauls a kitchen chair in for himself, still smirking like the devil.  “So she accidentally made you a dragon,” Wyn surmises, then smirks at me before returning his attention to Charlie.  “Consider this a secret safe space.  Ask anything and barring your brother there, nothing more will be said outside this apartment,” he assures.

“I’m a dragon?” Charlie chokes out with wide eyes and now Bill does look worried.

“You said you had questions about scaly problems, yes?” I ask, dropping onto the edge of Wyn's bed.  “So it’s more than added instincts and dragon-speaking skills? Lay it on me;" I instruct.  "What else?”

“Uh… I’m sort of impervious to fire now?” He tries.

“As in, you didn’t realize it was a hot coal you were holding until someone mentioned it?”

“Yes, actually,” Charlie admits, suddenly deflating like he’d just needed to say something to someone and get an answer or two to prove he’s not actually crazy.  “And when I dropped it, I’m pretty sure I could see… scales?  Like clear scales covering my palm?  Does that happen?”

“Yes,” Wyn and I answer in unison, then Wyn waves me on.  “It’s pretty much how I could kneel half in the baby bonfire and not get scorched.  That particular feature actually is dragon magic, because it’ll cover anything you’re wearing, too, unless you don’t want it to.”

“So you’re a dragon?” Bill demands, sitting forward and squinting at me until I let my eyes flare dragon orange, vertical slits and all, then let a thin layer of my purple-green scales loose near my hairline.  Bill gapes and Charlie all but jumps in triumph.

“That happened to me too!” He huffs, then slumps again, relieved.

I shake my features back to normal, then nod.  “I’d… kinda like to apologize, because I had no clue it’d actually advance you to scales, but I’m mostly... just kinda thrilled you still have a pulse,” I admit.

Bill still looks a bit strained, rubbing a hand down his face before turning to peer at his brother, a half smirk already in place.  “So what will you tell Mum?” He demands and ...I might whimper a bit.

“Don’t tell her it was me?” I beg and they both flash amused smiles at me (and damn they’re both sooo cute).  “What?  I saw her in the hospital wing when Percy got cursed.  Her aura’s as hard-core as any dragon I’ve ever met and I do not want to be on her bad side.  I’d rather go toe to claw against Old Man Hungarian; at least there, I’d stand a fighting chance.”

Bill’s actually curled over laughing and Charlie’s grinning almost ear to ear by the time I get it all out and Snape’s right back to trading smirks with Wyn until I flap a half-dismissive hand at all four of them, because really?  Boys.

“Whatever,” I huff.  “If you tell her and she kills me, I’m coming back to haunt both of you.  Fair warning.”

“No, no,” Bill assures, wiping his eyes as he sits up.  “She’s— yeah, she’s scary protective, but then, I’m guessing it was that same drive that let you risk exposure as a human dragon to save my kid brother?” Charlie scowls at Bill over the 'kid' part, but says nothing and I nod-shrug.  “No, you should be more worried about her forcibly adopting you, then.”

“Oh gods,” Charlie mutters, staring a little blankly, then smirking wide.  “She really will.”

This time, Snape snorts and that sets Wyn off all over again.

I point a firm finger at Wyn.  “Stop,” I choke out, trying to keep a straight face.  “I can’t answer questions if you keep making me laugh.”  I turn back to Charlie while Wyn goes back to his painting, though he’s still snickering a little.

“Okay... let's start with potential problems that might happen around the normals." Charlie nods once. "Okay, well, you're crazy protective of what you consider to be yours, which is mostly a bonus.  The things you hoard and protect will help keep you level and calm, mostly.  The less than ideal bonus is those times you can't.  You'll likely get pretty upset--"

"Like when the three new dragons showed?" He asks, almost on the edge of his seat, looking uncomfortable and nervous.

"Only heard about it an hour ago, but probably yes," I agree.  "If you start to taste a hint of sulfur at the back of your throat, it's time to step back, meditate, go rip a few trees apart, whatever.  Tasting sulfur is step one in 'How to Breathe Fire' and there's only so many ways to explain that particular phenomenon.  All in all, best avoided because it's made of magic, but definitely still fire and will do damage."

Charlie nods, but is also wincing slightly in a way that says he's probably come close before.

"Next, if you're going full human dragon, you'll pop talons at some point, though that usually goes hand in hand with upset and anger in general and calming down will get rid of them quicker.  But, if you're upset and have some privacy and a bit of time, use it to your advantage.  Get used to the feeling, force them in and right back out over and over to develop the muscle memory."

"It's partly a mental trick," Wyn adds from where he's again leaning against the frame, showing off his steeled claws, popping them in and out of his finger tips.  “It's not just muscle memory but a weird sort of calming energy."  I nod in agreement.

"Knowing you've got preemptive control with even a single dragon trait will remind you that ultimately, you can control the others and calming down becomes worlds easier," I assure him.  "Same thing with your visible scales--" I pause, then ask.  "What color were they, anyway?"

Charlie and Bill are both gaping a bit at all the new information, but Charlie shakes it off to answer.  "Silver and green?"

I feel my eyebrows popping high, because: Wow.  "Forest green? Like a Mountain Silver-Point?"

Charlie's eyes widen.  "They're extinct," he blurts.

"Uh huh," Wyn half-smirks, then points at me. "So are Mezaninnes."

"You're a Mezaninne?" Bill rasps, either amazed or worried and I can't tell which, personally.

"Uhh, yes?"

Both Weasleys stare a little more.  Charlie's staring is curious, though.  He knows I'm a Mezaninne.

"I think you broke them," Wyn stage whispers to me and I glower again while Snape smirks a little wider, highly entertained and likely glad it's not just him this happens to.

"Moving on..." I say a bit louder, with a faint undertone that has both Weasleys blinking and sitting straighter," I’ve seen your eyes glow very faintly orange, but haven’t seen them change-change, so that might be for full-shifters only?”

“But you’re not sure?” Charlie guesses, half-frowning.

I shrug-wince a bit.  “I’m the only human dragon I’ve ever known, honestly, though I’m pretty sure Salazar was one at one point?  I don’t think he could shift more than his eyes, though.”

“You’re saying I’m going full Slytherin?” Charlie demands, looking perturbed and behind them, Snape rolls his eyes but doesn't comment.

“It won’t make you any less. Gryffindor,” I promise, snort-smiling.  “My former surname aside, I’m still all four and I turned out alright,” I offer, shrugging.

“So did I!” Wyn, once again behind his canvas, calls out and Charlie looks marginally comforted by that.

"As for your eyes, best way to deal with it is the same as potential talons; keep a pocket mirror handy, if you like, and if you're feeling upset, check them.  You'll likely feel them heating up a bit when they do glow, so keep track of what causes it.  It won't always be something upsetting, either.  Snuggle a dragon or two and they will change, at least a little."

"Heat vision," Wyn murmurs, once again behind his canvas, and I nod when Charlie's eyebrows pop.

"Yes," I nod, "really, but your eyes will be a dead giveaway then and there's no hiding that without a glamor of some sort, which... I'll be making for you once the antimatter curse is dealt with.  If you want to actually learn to use it, because it's actually handy at times, put yourself in a pitch dark room and have someone toss in a few mice.  Your inner dragon will enjoy the game and you'll get practice switching that vision on and off."

Charlie still looks a bit stunned by all the sudden information, but also looks calmer now too.

"So... questions?" I ask a bit gingerly and he purses his lips, thinking.

“Well… glad you mentioned auras before, because I’m pretty sure I’m seeing a lot of them these days,” Charlie sighs.

“Whoa,” I breathe out.  “Examples?  Like, just people, or…”

“Mostly people…” he shifts in place for a second, then blurts out, “Like Lucky.  If I see him in the right light, it’s like seeing him shimmering gold and green and suddenly 'feels' like a Lucky sort of guy.  And… um.  Like Remus?  I see something that makes me think earth and fur and moonlit sky—“

“Whoa,” I repeat, then look to Wyn, who’s wincing.  “That’s your gift, not mine.”

“Wyn scratches at the back of his head for a second, then nods back down at Charlie.  “You’re definitely still a Gryffindor, then.”  This time, it’s me who rolls my eyes.

“Less than helpful, but yeah,” I sigh.  “And what do you see looking at me?”

“Well, the gold and silver circlet, sort of... like your dragon horns?  And wings,” he adds and I flex my winged aura and yup.  Like Snape, Charlie's eyes follow the motion, then he squints a bit.  “And that same, earth, fur, night sky, like Remus… beyond that, you’re just… glowing.  Glowing gold, mostly.  Very, very brightly, actually.”

“Huh,” I huff, almost soundless.  “Well, that’ll be helpful, I suppose, depending on who you’re dealing with.  Like your buddy Lucky.”

“I know he’s got leprechaun in the mix somewhere because he's told me as much,” Charlie snorts, grinning.  “So that’s what a leprechaun would look like?”

“I guess? I've only met a few before, but I knew from the second I saw him, but it’s not something I’d have called him on if he hadn’t started cracking terrible jokes about luck and fate.  He just wanted to see if I recognized him back.  Luck and fate go hand in hand.”

Bill’s eyes tick from Charlie to me and back.  “Your life is so much more interesting than mine these days,” he decides and Charlie and I both grin.

"That's what I said," Wyn smirks, nodding.

“Well, we’re about to delve into uncharted waters of a weaponized potion version of Landry’s Solution, so it’ll get interesting for everyone way faster than we’ll want it to,” I assure him and his eyebrows hike up high while I tick back to Charlie.  “Last note on auras, though: most people won’t be especially happy if you call them on whatever characteristics you might be seeing.  So… if it’s not something you’d want Fudge to know about either you or one of your own family?  Best to leave it alone unless you’re certain it’s a danger or they bring it up themselves.”

“Fair,” Charlie agrees, shrugging a shoulder, then frowns a little.  “So… if I’d seen someone leaving as we came in… and they had a bit of fuzzy, spikey energy around their head—“

I jerk upright.  “Like a discordant energy?"  Charlie nods worriedly.  "Who?”

Charlie blinks. “Um… I think he's one of the Aurors?  Tall guy, black hair?  Don’t know his name, though.”

Snape and I trade looks before I shuffle back on the bed til I can touch the wall and a flick of magic with my other hand has an improvised tv screen hovering mid-air showing all the Aurors currently on school grounds.  “Is he up here?” I ask and Charlie scans, then points.

“Bottom row, in the middle,” he says.

“Castle, identify please?”

“Ben Brady,” Snape answers.  “Came with Umbridge and apparently stayed.”

“One of the toadies, then,” I growl, then shoot two patronuses out to Moody and Dumbledore while the magic screen shifts to something like live TV and we all frown seeing Brady shuffling around on the front steps, one hand gripped in his hair, the other rubbing his eyes.  “He is really not looking well right now,” I murmur.

“What’s wrong with him?”  Bill asks, frowning harder.  “I went to school with him.  He wasn’t a bad guy, that I ever knew of.”

“In my experience, good guys get cursed way more often than bad guys,” I murmur… “Imperious Curse, looks like,” I sigh, frowning more.  “And clearly, he knows something’s wrong with him.”

Bill stands in a hurry, already striding for the door with Charlie on his heels and I finger-wave to Wyn as we make our way back out.

“Sled lift, please,” I order softly and it’s already waiting when we get there, though Snape gives me a grumpy look when we’re finally zipping back up to the dungeon level.

“Is there some reason you’ve been hiding the lift feature all this time?” He demands.

“Exercise is good for everyone,” I defend.  “You don’t want to turn into Slughorn, do you?” I ask innocently and Snape scowls while Bill bites his lips together and looks away. Charlie smirks with me, proving why he’s currently my favorite (after Snape).

I’d be more amused all around if the Weasley twins weren’t waiting for us in the potions room, George swearing up and down they were just looking for us to say goodbye and Fred already cramming something papery-sounding that practically screams ‘incrimination’ into his back pocket.  And, because we’re still in a hurry, I simply will it into my own pocket, replaced with a few sheafs of paper, blank but for a message reading: Be Good, or Be Good At It.

I stuff whatever my temporary prize is deep into my own pocket and smirk as I dash after the others.