Stupid Dragons
Harry glared down at the book before sighing. He opened it again. “Maybe I can find something to translate it,” he mumbled to himself. He focused on the flowing language once more. It was like nothing he had ever seen before.
The dragon fidgeted on his wrist, causing him to jump. “You have something to do with this, don’t you?” Harry said, glaring at the metal dragon. The silver dragon just cocked his head at him before clamping its jaws down on Harry’s hand. “Son of a bitch!” Harry cursed, dropping the book while trying to shake the dragon off. The dragon glared at him and released something into his bloodstream through the bite. “Shit, are you poisonous?!?” Harry yelped. It was a metal freaking dragon; it shouldn’t be able to inject him with poison! Hell, it shouldn’t even be able to move for that matter. Merlin, sometimes Harry really hated magic.
The dragon finally let go of his hand, looking quite proud of itself. Harry could feel whatever it was the dragon had infected him with racing through his system. He started to sway before collapsing completely as his vision grew hazy. The dragon looked up at him curiously before leaving his wrist and flying over to his face. The silver dragon nudged his nose worriedly cocking his head. “Yeah, you stupid beast..” Harry gasped, “you did this...to me.”
Harry tried to pick himself up, but he didn’t have the strength to. He collapsed back to the floor with a groan. The dragon nudged him again. “Go...away..” Harry moaned, trying to swat at the metal dragon. It quickly moved away from the offending hand. The metal dragon glared at Harry before pointedly turned away from him and sticking its snout in the air, smoke rising from its nostrils.
Excruciating pain began to radiate from the dragon bite, slowly spreading throughout his body. It was burning him from the inside out. Harry screamed. The pain was just as bad as the Cruciatus Curse, if not worse. While the Cruciatus felt like you were being repeatedly stabbed throughout your body, this poison felt like somebody had poured molten lava into his veins. He didn’t know how much more he could stand this. Of course, he would die like this. Alone with a freaking metal dragon mad at him because he yelled at it.
Slowly the pain began to get worse. “Kreach-...Kreacher,” Harry whispered, “Help...me…” His vision was becoming black around the edges.
A faint pop sounded in the room. His vision was becoming blurry, but a vague figure was gesturing frantically in front of him. Harry swatted at the figure, trying to get it to go away because its frantic movements were making his head hurt worse. He heard a jumble a noise but didn’t understand it since it was almost silent. Something silver suddenly flitted in front of him. The dragon! Harry tried to hit it, furious that something so little was causing him so much pain, but it danced out of the way of Harry’s slow fists. The movement was too much for Harry, though, and he blacked out completely as the dragon nudged his cheek.
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Harry woke slowly, at first. He was confused. Why was he in bed? Then it all came back to him. Telling Kreacher to return everything taken from Grimmauld Place, finding that green book, and being bitten by that stupid miniature dragon! Harry snapped up before falling back down to the bed with a moan. His whole body hurt. It seemed to radiate from the bite. Harry groaned and slowly lifted his arm. The bite mark was an ugly, deep red, and the veins surrounding it were an ugly black color that faded out the further up his hand the veins went. Damn dragon.
“Kreacher?” Harry groaned before rolling over and pulling the covers over his head. Something heavy was on his wrist… again. “Kreacher!”
Kreacher popped into the room. “Master Harry! Is you feeling better? Is you in pain? What can Kreacher do?” Kreacher asked nervously as he wrung his hands together.
“Make me feel better,” Harry moaned pitifully from under the covers, “And get this stupid dragon off my wrist!”
Kreacher glanced at Harry before looking down. “Kreacher’s sorry, Master, but Kreacher don’t know how. Kreacher tried to heal Master but… house elf magic didn’t work.”
Harry snapped the covers away from his head. “What do you mean you can’t heal me! Are you kidding me? Can you at least get this stupid animal off my wrist?” Harry yelped as the dug its claws into his arm. “Now, preferably!”
Kreacher looked down again. “Kreacher couldn’t do that either,” Kreacher whispered. Harry moaned. “Can you do anything?” Harry grumbled but sighed when he saw Kreacher reach for the bedside lamp. “Don’t punish yourself for something you can’t do, Kreacher. That’s an order. I’m sorry I snapped at you. I’m just not feeling well.”
Harry moaned before covering his head with the covers once more. He glared at the offending piece of metal on his wrist. “This is all your fault, you know,” he glared at the dragon that was curled around his wrist, seemingly asleep. “Wait, all your fault…” Harry whispered in revelation, “Kreacher, get the emerald book with the dragon on the front of it!”
He heard Kreacher pop away before he reappeared. “Here’s the book, Master. Is there anything else Kreacher can do?” Kreacher asked quietly. Harry mumbled no before reaching out blindly for the book. The book was placed in his hand before Kreacher left. Harry quickly pulled the book under the covers with him and sat up slightly forming a tent. “There has to be something in here that I can translate,” Harry flipped through the book.
Harry scanned through the first page before flipping to the next. He paused before turning back to the first page. He could understand it. He could actually read it even though it was still in the strange, flowing language that it had been yesterday. Harry glanced down at the sleeping dragon on his wrist. “What the fuck did you do to me?” Harry whispered before beginning to read.
‘If you are reading this, you have been chosen like I was.’Great that sounded ominous. ‘There are many secrets in the universe, magic being one of them, but there are a select few who are made privy to all of the world’s secrets. Merlin was the first, I was the second, and now you are the third. Both of us had power in our own right, but this, this turned us into so much more. Our legacies will live on forever, although for different reasons. Merlin was revered as a god among men to the wizarding world, whereas I, I became this world’s villain and scapegoat for everything that has gone wrong in it. Neither of us got what we wanted. We didn’t use the knowledge in this book properly, and that destroyed both of our lives. Use this knowledge carefully and wisely, for this is the knowledge of the dragons, the oldest living creature in the universe. The dragon on your wrist right now was once ours. She protected us and helped us through our difficulties. Kali will defend you until your dying breath even if you make the wrong choices. I speak from experience since she never left me when all my friends did. She chose us, and now she has chosen you. I wish you the best of luck whoever you are. Don’t become like us. Power is a tantalizing and dangerous thing; it may be your redemption, but it may also be your doom. I wish you the best of luck. ~Sincerely Salazar Slytherin.
Harry looked at the book in shock. “What did I just get myself into?”
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Harry had studied the book obsessively for the past two weeks. It was so… so amazing. Knowledge on the Old Magicks were explained in vivid detail, even though the Ministry claimed the knowledge had been lost in the goblin wars and witch trials. Harry could now understand completely why a person had to be chosen to receive the knowledge in the book. It was dangerous, even deadly, depending on the way it was used. Blood magic, sacrificial magic, and necromancy were all things that could cause mass panic and mayhem if it was released to the Ministry, let alone the wizarding world. Harry had studied every word written in the book.
Even though he had studied everything in the book, it never spoke of Kali, or how Harry could get the insufferable dragon off his wrist. Kali was a mystery. The book never stated how she was created. Harry wouldn’t be surprised if she hadn’t been made at all, even though the dragon was made entirely out of silver which was unfortunate for him. Kali refused to leave him alone. Either she would wrap tightly around his wrist, leaving deep impressions in his skin, or lay lazily around his neck. Whenever he would badmouth her or forcefully try to remove her, Kali would either bite or burn him. Once, when he had said something particularly vicious to Kali, she had given him painful third-degree burns on the back of his hand that took much longer than normal to heal.
Kreacher was still bringing Black family artifacts back daily, although he still hadn’t found the ever elusive grimoire. Many supposedly ‘light’ families had the Black family heirlooms. Harry had given Kreacher special permission to leave particularly cruel surprises for anyone who had stolen something of the Blacks’. So many items had been returned Grimmauld Place, that they had been forced to turn the drawing room into a storage room for all the artifacts while Harry tried to sort through everything, but as time went on and Kreacher kept bringing books and other dark items, piles of things were carelessly stacked outside of the drawing room because Harry had stopped everything in order to study the dragon book.
Kreacher was returning more items than Harry thought had been thrown out. He later found out by going through bank statements from the time he was on the run that Mrs. Weasley had almost cleaned out the entire Black family vault.When Harry questioned Kreacher about it, he had claimed that Dumbledore had given her permission to ‘clean out any dark items’ from the vault, not even a week after Sirius had died. Turns out over half the Black fortune was a ‘dark item’. The Weasley family, Ron especially, had not been happy when they received a court order demanding the return of the funds. When Ron had found out about the order, he had stormed up to Grimmauld Place to demand Harry recall the order. The only problem with that was the fact that Harry had barred all entrance through the wards. After Ron realized that he couldn’t get in, he almost blew up the street.
Harry shook his head. Yes, a lot of things had happened in the short amount of time he had found the book.
A loud crack sounded in the room. “Master Harry! Kreacher found the grimoire!” Kreacher shouted loudly, running up to him.
Harry looked down at him in shock. “Really? You found it? I was beginning to think the Order had destroyed it.” Harry reached for the old, black book in Kreacher’s hands. “Where’d you find it?”
Kreacher scowled menacingly. “Nasty old blood traitor stole it from its rightful owner. He hid it with the rest of his treasures, but Kreacher stoles it back,” Kreacher said with a proud smile.
“Old blood traitor,” Harry contemplated, “Do you mean Dumbledore?”
Kreacher hastily nodded his head. “He had it hidden in his vault but Kreacher gots it back.”
Harry looked down at Kreacher with a sigh. “Vault? Should I be concerned about goblins demanding reimbursement for yet another theft from their bank?”
Kreacher froze before shaking his head uncertainly, his eyes downcast.
“I’ll deal with that when it happens,” Harry grumbled before starting to look at the old book. The black leather of the book was soft and worn because of the amount of use it had survived. The book’s pages were cracked and yellowing, hanging out slightly from their bindings. Harry carefully flipped through the pages. The writing varied from fading passages that could barely be read to passages that looked as if they had just recently been written into the book. Strange pictures were drawn in to describe various magical items or creatures. The book was filled with pages detailing complex spells or potions from generations ago.
Kali stirred from the spot on his rest, seeming to wake from her previous slumber. She cocked her head curiously and looked at the book carefully. Harry glanced at her, worried. She had never had a reaction like that to anything before, and it could only mean trouble for him.
“I can’t believe you actually found it. Good job,” Harry said trying to ignore the odd behavior of the dragon. Kreacher preened under the compliment. Harry smiled slightly at the small house elf. “Thank you for getting this for me. Was anything else taken from the Black family?”
Kreacher shook his head. “Kreacher founded everything stolen from the great house of Black. The grimoire was the last thing Kreacher needed to finds.”
Harry sighed with relief. “Finally! I was beginning to think we would never be able to get into the drawing room. Thanks, Kreacher. You’re dismissed for now,” He said and began to walk down the hallway.
Kali suddenly snapped up straight and took flight from Harry’s wrist. She launched herself down the hallway towards a place Harry considered one of the most dangerous places in the house.
“Hey! Stop you might wake her up!” Harry whispered-shouted at the dragon. Kali ignored his pleas and crashed into the curtains covering Mrs. Black’s portrait. Her metal claws tore into the silk curtains, leaving large gashes in the fabric as she tried to find leverage to climb up them.
“Stop! Stop, please!” Harry whispered in desperation as he ran up to her. Kali glared up at him before she gave a vicious yank to the curtains tearing them completely from the curtain rod. Screams emitted from the portrait immediately. Harry groaned and glared at the pathetic squirming pile of curtains that covered Kali. “There are times when I truly hate you, you stupid beast.” Kali peaked her head up through one of the tears in the fabric. She flicked her tongue out at him before pointedly sticking her nose up in the air, ignoring him.
“BLOOD TRAITORS! MUDBLOODS! IN MY HOUSE! HOW DARE YOU SULLY THE LEGACY OF THE BLACK FAMILY WITH YOUR FILTHY BLOOD! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, YOU DESPICABLE BOY!” Walburga shrieked from her place on the wall. Harry flinched slightly, trying to ignore how much she sounded like Aunt Petunia at the last sentence.
Harry scrambled to untangle Kali from the curtains so he could put them up again, the loud shrieks spurring him on. He unceremoniously ripped the dragon from the curtains and dropped her to the ground. He reached for his wand before groaning with frustration when he remembered that his magic had been acting up lately; he was going to have to do this manually. He lifted the curtains up when the screams suddenly stopped. Hesitantly, Harry lowered the curtains to see what had caused Walburga to stop.
The proud woman was gaping at where Kali was sprawled out on the floor looking rather indignant. “You… You’ve been chosen?” Walburga whispered in shock.
“Yes?” Harry answered, watching her warily. “No? I’m not sure what the right answer is here.”
Walburga threw a deadly glare at him. “You foolish boy. Have you been chosen by Potentia Dracones Praecedentes or not?”
“Potentia Draconis what?” Harry asked her, confused.
Walburga sniffed. “The book, you rude boy! Have you been chosen by it or not?”
Kali hopped over to Harry and gently nudged his leg. “Yeah. Yeah, I was chosen by it, or, well, Kali actually did the choosing,” Harry said awkwardly, motioning to the dragon.
Walburga looked at him in shock. She gave him an appraising look. “So you have been deemed worthy of the dragon’s name.”
Harry laughed nervously. “Well, it is just a name. I don’t think it’s that important.”
Walburga glared at him sharply. “You insolent boy! Names have a great importance! They give you power over the person! How were you chosen if you don’t even know the simplest of magics?”
“Hey, I know things!” Harry said outraged, “I’ve studied that book for weeks now! I don’t claim to know everything about magic, but I know the basics! I was taught at Hogwarts, and I was forced to study everything and I mean everything one of my friends deemed important! She forced me to study all of her classes as well as my own! I lived through a war, and that is a testament to my knowledge of magic!”,
She sneered down at him. “Then the school’s curriculum is severely lacking. You truly are pathetic if you think living through a war is testament to your knowledge of magic.”
Harry looked at her in thinly veiled disgust. “I’ll have you know that some very magically intellectual people were killed in the war, including your precious Dark Lord.” Walburga’s head snapped up. “And this ‘pathetic’ boy has been the one trying to restore the house of Black to greatness! I have turned this house into the majestic place that it once was instead of the filthy dump you let it turn into! I have returned everything that has been stolen, including your family grimoire. Guess I shouldn’t have if this is the thanks I get for doing it,” Harry said before stalking away.
“Wait!” her quiet voice called. He ignored it and walked further down the hallway. A shrill cry sounded from behind him before Kali flew in front of him and landed on the floor. “Move, you stupid animal,” Harry grumbled as he tried to pass her. She simply hopped in front of him and hissed, baring her teeth. Harry glared at her. “I thought you were supposed to be on my side.”
Walburga called to him again. “Wait! I truly am… sorry,” She forced herself to say, “That was very uncalled for from me, and I hope you will forgive me for being so unpolite.”
Harry turned back. “Unpolite! You weren’t unpolite; you were a bi-” Kali cut him off with a squawk as she landed on his shoulder.
Walburga straightened up imperiously. “I realize I did not act as a Lady of the house of Black should, and for that I am deeply sorry, but on behalf of the family, I would like to thank you for bringing back our family heirlooms,” She said somewhat pretentiously.
Harry shrugged helplessly. “What’s family for? Siri,” Harry choked up a little at the mention of his godfather, “Sirius was everything to me. He was all the family I had left, and they stole everything from him. His house, his freedom, his life. I know he didn’t like it here or all the dark objects, but I know he wouldn’t have wanted it to be stolen from the family.”
Walburga glare softened a little. “Yes, I suppose we are family.”
Harry scoffed slightly. “It’s sad that all the family I have left is the talking portrait of the mother my godfather despised. No offence!” Harry stated quickly as she raised an eyebrow at him. “Hell, I don’t even have a portrait of my parents.”
Harry rubbed his face. “You know, the only memory I have of them is their deaths. I can’t remember anything happy, like them playing with me or something as mundane as one of my parents holding me. But, hey, that’s life for one Harry Potter! Nothing good can ever happen to Harry Potter, and if it does it gets ripped away from him!”
“I don’t mean to intrude,” Walburga said carefully, “But have you read the grimoire?”
“No, Kreacher just found it. I haven’t had a chance.”
“Well,” Walburga said with a small smile, “I believe the solutions to all your troubles are in it.”
Harry looked at her in shock. “But this is the family grimoire. Most families put some kind of curse on it so that only blood relatives can open it.”
Walburga shook her head with a slight smile. “The grimoire only opens to somebody worthy in the Black family. You are as much a part of the family as I am and truly worthy if you have been chosen by Kali.”