Chapter 2- Dragon’s Blade
Reclaimed.
Harry woke the
next morning to the familiar smell of bacon and eggs, and sat up a bit
uneasily. He moaned as his head throbbed in pain, and then remembered his
outburst the night before. He shook his head and stood up.
< I am NOT
going to relapse into this fucking depression! I’m above it, I’m over
it! Hell, I’m flying so high above it that it’s not even a minisucle
speck on the ground below!> he reprimanded himself as he moved to his
bedroom. <Oh sod off Potter, you know you’ll never get over it, not
without drugs…>
He pulled out a
pair of black jeans and the heavy black sweater Molly Weasley had made for him
last Christmas, and the a pair of boxers and socks. He walked into the
bathroom, shut and locked the door, and turned on the water in the
jaccuzzi. He needed to relax.
~!*^*!~
Silver-blue eyes
glared at the reflection in the full length mirror, and turned back to the
large closet with a ‘hmph.’ With a flick of his wand the clothes started
to mix and match themselves, hoping to please his eye. He said yes to a
pair of black leather pants with a studded belt and zippers down the sides, and
continued to let the tops rearrange themselves.
“This isn’t
working! I need something shocking, but simple!” he cried out, and just
as he said it, the perfect combination was floating in front of him. “PERFECT!”
~!*^*!~
Harry walked out
of the bathroom, dressed and feeling refreshed. Sirius sat at the kitchen
table, reading the Daily Prophet, and listening to what sounded like Muggle
classicals. He smiled a bit as he moved to the fridge and pulled out the
milk. While in mid-swig, he caught Sirius’ glare and smiled.
“Sorry.” he said
with a bit of a laugh, putting the milk back and picking up an apple from the
basket next to the refridgerator.
“You do that often?”
”Every morning. Has mail come?”
“Muggle or Wizard?”
”Either.”
”Muggle’s by the door, no Owl yet.”
“Thanks. Uh, did you make breakfast?”
”Yeah, but you went into the bath, so I ate yours.”
Harry smacked him
with the dish towel he was wiping the counter with and moved to the
microwave. His breakfast was set inside, and he pressed the reheat button
after shutting the door again.
Sirius closed the
paper and took a sip of his coffee, all the while keeping an eye on his
Godson. He had seen Harry after it had first happened, and he had known
that he was depressed, but over time he’d thought he’d gotten over it. By
the display he witnessed the previous day, he was very wrong. He had
thought about calling in a MediWizard, but decided that the best thing for him
to do was get together with his friends. They would get him back on
track.
“The Malfoy
Auction’s been canceled you know.” said Sirius as he stood up and moved to put
his mug in the dishwasher.
“Why?” was the calm response.
“Seems that before he died, Lucius had left strict instructions for his
savings to take care of all the holdings. I guess he figured that his son
and wife would still be alive to use it.”
”But if they’re all dead, why hold it?”
”Maybe Narcissa’s not dead, just gone into hiding. No one ever did find
her body.”
”No one found Malfoy’s body after I had told them he was there.”
”Then what was burried?”
“His wand, and Hogwart’s robes.”
Sirius was silent
as Harry took his breakfast out of the microwave and walked into the living
room. He watched his charge flop onto the couch, pick up the stereo remote,
and hit a couple of buttons. A vaguely familiar Muggle song [1] came on
and Sirius could only watch and listen to the lyrics as Harry ate his
breakfast. When the song was over, he turned off the stereo and moved to
the coat closet. He pulled out a long black hooded cloak, put it on, and
then pulled out Sirius’s own cloak. He looked at his Godfather with
dagger like emerald eyes, and unlocked the door.
“I’m going
shopping. You’re more than welcome to join me, if you can stand Knockturn
Alley.” Harry said, his voice cold.
“Knockturn Alley?!”
“The best place to find the ingredients for my sleep aide potion.
Come on, I’ll show you.”
“Knockturn Alley?”
“You’ve already said that Sirius. And don’t look so shocked that I
go there. Hell, I’ve been going since my 7th year. Ron and Hermione
went with me when we did our shopping for Hogwart’s that year.”
“But, that’s-“
”Just put your cloak on and lets go.”
He tossed the
cloak to Sirius and walked towards the storage closet. He tapped his wand
on the lock knob and it swung open. The closet was full of wizarding
things, and there was a small open spot on the shelf right in front of
them. Harry pulled his hood up and carefully covered his scar.
Reaching out for a small vial amidst the empty space, Harry felt that familiar
sensation of a hook just behind his navel, and then found himself standing just
inside the dark alley. Sirius appeared right beside him.
“A Portkey?
I’m surprised the Ministry allowed that.”
”They don’t.”
”Wha-“
Before he could
question, Harry had started down the crooked alley, leaving Sirius bewildered
behind him. This was not the same Harry he knew and loved.
~!*^*!~
Dark shadows
moved past the light from the cauldron fire and a set of doors burst open as a
tall figure walked in, long hair flailing out behind it. With the tip of
a black wand, the figure stirred the contents of the cauldron, and an evil
smirk played on its lips. Taking a small vial of blood red liquid from
the pocket of midnight robes, the being added a sprinkle of gold dust to the
potion, and then poured the vial’s contents into the mixture. It poofed
red, the Dark Mark forming in the smoke, and the figure laughed, the shadows
moving out of the room through the open doors.
“Soon Harry
Potter… soon…” it laughed, snakes of every shape, color and size slithering out
of the cauldron.
~!*^*!~
Sirius walked
into the dark and hazy shop that Harry had lead him to, and looked around.
The walls were filled with some of the rarest potion ingredients, some of which
were supposedly illegal to sell. He remembered seeing Snape come in this
shop once or twice when they were in school, and he remembered some of the
things he had created.
Harry spoke
quietly with the old wizard at the counter, and the man nodded before pulling a
small bag out of the chest behind him. Harry paid him, and turned back to
his Godfather.
“Is there
anything you need?” he asked, dropping the bag into his pocket.
“Not from this place.”
Harry nodded and
headed out again, this time into a shop with the sign reading “Dragon’s
Belly.” Sirius’s heart skipped a beat as he saw the small deep green dragon
sleeping in the display window, surrounded by swords and gold and jewels.
Harry seemed to be looking at a display of athames [2]. He stepped up
next to the jewel-eyed boy and looked into the case.
The athames were
beautiful, if not a bit disturbing. Most of them had scalloped or serated
blades, but the one Harry seemed to be looking at was extremely straight.
The handle was made of some sort of black stone and silver, the hilt being that
of a silver dragon, holding a large blue tinted diamond. There were
unusual symbols engraved into the whole thing, extending only a little bit on
the blade, and as if sensing that Harry was looking at it, the diamond clouded
over. Sirius didn’t like this one bit. He put a hand on his
godson’s shoulder and started to pull him to the door.
“I think we
should leave Harry, there isn’t anything else for us to-“
“Just let me get my blade. Damiana!” Harry called, and an
older girl came running out of the back.
She was no taller
than Harry, and had long straight chestnut colored hair. Her eyes were
what caught the animagus’s attention. They were amber colored, and seemed
to glow as she looked at his charge. She was dressed in a long green
robe, a dragon embroidered on the chest, and she had an amber pendant around
her neck. Her nails were black, and she held a hand out towards the
display window.
The dragon Sirius
had found disturbing stood up and stretched, before sliding off the display and
walking over to the woman. The thing was no bigger than a tabby cat, but
looks were often deceiving when it came to dragons. It jumped up onto her
shoulder and wrapped its long tail around her arm, its neck around the back of
her own and it looked at Harry, then at the woman. She smiled and nodded.
“You sure?” it
hissed.
“Yes I’m sure! I wouldn’t have called you over if I wasn’t
stupid!” she laughed at the dragon.
“I wasn’t asking you, I was asking the boy.”
Sirius watched
the scene in shock. He’d never known a dragon to speak, let alone ask
questions. It looked at Harry with glowing yellow eyes, and when it
locked with his own emeralds, it gave a startled little rawrk. It moved
over Damiana’s shoulder and leaned closer to Harry, who pulled back his hood,
and moved the bangs covering his scar.
“I think I’m
ready to take it back.” he said, letting his hair fall back into place and
putting the hood back up.
“You have the counter then?” asked the dragon, folding its small wings
tightly against its back.
“If I didn’t, do you think I would be here?”
“Good point.”
The dragon looked
at the lock on the display door, which was lead, and in the shape of a dragon,
and blew a small breath of fire at it. It seemed to come alive and moved,
and the wizards glass door opened. Damiana patted the dragons head and
pulled the athame out. As soon as it was in Harry’s hand, the diamond in
the center lit up a bright electric blue, and Sirius stiffled back a gasp
as the dragon stretched and yawned. The dragon that had opened the door
shut it as he walked back to his display window, and turned to look at Harry.
“What do you plan
to do with the Dragon’s Blade, Harry Potter?” it asked, cocking its head to one
side, as if studying the boy.
“Call a dragon, what else?” replied Harry, taking the black leather
sheath from Damiana and putting the blade in his cloak pocket.
The dragon seemed
to smile and nodded at him as he turned back to his window. Harry smiled in
return and ushered Sirius out of the shop. He could sense his Godfather’s
confusion, and knew that it was time to tell him more of the secret behind
Draco Malfoy’s involvment in the fight against Voldermont…
~TBC~
[1] – the “muggle song”
I’m using, but didn’t feel like typing, is Burn, by Matchbox 20 (the “Mad
Season” album). If you actually think about the lyrics, it sorta
describes a depressed Harry.
I thought about
Leaving- but I couldn’t even get outta bed
Hitchin’- but I couldn’t get a ride outta town
Now anyone who really wanted me to be
down
Come ‘round
Thought about
Singin’ but I couldn’t remember all of the
words
Breakin’ but I couldn’t get the pieces apart
Laughin’ never knowing what the joke was
about
Now I’m down
And I wonder how I never got the Burn
And if I’m ever gonna learn
How lonely people make a life
One strain at a time
Forgot About
Everything and everyone I needed before
Tryin’ to get a handle on a reason to shine
Pickin’ up the pieces that are falling behind
takes time
So I wonder how I never got the Burn
And if I’m ever gonna learn
How lonely people make a life
One strain at a time and still shine
[2] – An “athame” is what
Wiccan’s use in ritual, or circle if you will. It’s traditionally a black
or dark handled knife, never used for anything but ritual. Most of the
time it’s annointed by fire (which makes sense in the story, considering it’s a
dragon * wink * * wink * holding the diamond…), and it represents the
God. Its opposite is what is called a “boline” (bow-lean). It’s
normally a white handled knife, some times made of bone or antler or ivory, and
is used in the preparation of the ritual/circle. It’s used to cut herbs
and alike. It’s sometimes annointed by water or earth, but I’ve only done
mine with real oils and fire. Each Wiccan is different. And yes, I
am Wiccan, so you’ll probably see some of my own stuff shoved in here to make
it seem a little bit, I dunno, eerie? Hogwart’s is great, but I like
thinking that there’s gotta be a little religion behind it.