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There Be Dragons, Harry	By : Scioneeris Category: HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters > Slash - Male/Male Views: 58487 -:- Recommendations : 9 -:- Currently Reading : 28
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of its characters. I make no money by writing this story..

Chapter List
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RECAP: Harry is at the Burrow with the Weasleys, when Death Eater's attack, accompanied by dementors. Unable to fight, due to his lack of magic, Harry is busy running and dodging spells with DE Rowle zeroes in on him. Shadow takes a spell intended for Harry and Charlie comes to their rescue. When Charlie takes a spell intended for Harry, it injures him and prompts Harry to invoke Theo's elemental powers by way of his Dragel password, to avenge the dragontamer. However, by invoking the password after a soulcry, Harry is unprepared for the sheer power and after his revenge on Rowle, he passes out, trying to reach Charlie. Charlie has undergone a partial, forced transformation and awakens to find Harry collapsed. He discovers his hands are claws and his hair is on fire, when his mother casts a water charm.

In a silent, treeless plain, several slabs of dark rocks were pressed into a circular shape on the ground, covered with magical runed carvings, a rich blue glow emanating from the center, forming a shimmering lighted barrier, illuminating one Theodore Nott within. He lay, suspended in the air, by a few feet, his physical body entirely unaware, his mental consciousness rather busy.

"…and so I'd like to ask your help on it. Please."

"Please?" There was a snort from the fuzzy image bearing the woman's face. "Theodore, my dear, you really shouldn't beg, it doesn't suit you." She gave another snort. "I'd be honored. Thank you for asking—very responsible of you to do so, as well, if I might add."

"I have learned something after all these years." Theo retorted, mildly. "So you will come?"

"Naturally. As if I could stay otherwise." She flashed a smile. "I might have to drag some unwanted weight along for the ride, but I'll be there. When would be best? Any particular preference?"

"Not really." Theo admitted. "Just as soon as you are able. I fear the bindings may-ugh!" He shuddered violently.

"Theo? What's wrong, what's going on?"

"…password." Theo choked out.

"You gave your password to whom?"

"…mate." Theo gasped.

"By Arielle's fangs." The woman swore. "He invoked it? Did you not warn him of the consequences—Theo!"

An agonized scream was wrenched from his lips and at once, the mental connection began to fade as Theo's consciousness returned to his body. He began to jerk and twist in uncoordinated moves before his body curled in on itself. He moaned softly.

"Theodore!" Ilsa's scream faded out as the magic invoked to place the long-distance call flickered out and died.

On the treeless plain, a mournful wind barreled through.

The ground shook.

There was a flash of white-gold energy.

And then there was nothing.

A strangely annoying buzzing rattled in the back of his head as Charlie cradled Harry close to his chest and rocked back and forth. He didn't even know why he was doing this, just that it felt right and it had to be done and of course, he was the only one qualified to do it.

Or so his newly altered self seemed to think.

Charlie's gaze flickered between Harry's limp form and his mother's worried, stricken face as she stood a respectable distance away, to keep him from hissing and growling at her. There was a pained expression on that lovely face that spoke more than he'd ever wanted to know of her. Charlie subconsciously stifled a whimper in the back of his throat.

His Dragel self was not happy.

It could see that his mother—his bearer and carrier—had done something to him. It understood. Something had been done. Something terrible and horrible that now resulted in his current state.

His heart ached.

His soul bled.

Pain seemed like an old friend.

Charlie sucked in a few deep breathes, wincing when different scents assaulted his newly heightened senses. He hadn't expected that, but it fell in the same category as having claws for hands. He almost gave a wry smile when he caught a good whiff of Harry's scent once more. He perked up, visibly.

Harry smelled wonderful.

Delightful, even.

A mixture of something light and citrusy with a special musk that simply screamed 'Harry'!

Charlie liked it very much.

There was also a faint scent of oranges. Oranges and steel. It made his nose burn and his eyes water.

Charlie wasn't sure he liked that scent at all. It stirred something in the back of his mind, a foggy sort of memory that he couldn't quite grasp. It slithered through his muddled thoughts as if it were something important that he really should remember.

A stab of pain rattled through his chest and he drew in a short sharp breath.

He would've thought everything would've stopped hurting by now, but he didn't really expect it to. Whatever had happened, it would take a lot of time to figure it out and to see what had happened and how to fix it.

Yes. Fix it.

There had to be a way to fix it.

Charlie felt a sudden wave of tiredness wash over him.

He felt exhausted and drained to the bone.

Certain things escaped him, at present.

Things like the fact that his hair had transformed into actual flames before his mother had dared to dump water on them.

Things like how right it felt to hold Harry in his arms and it felt that he'd never let the smaller man go.

Things like how the expression on his mother's face seemed something akin to a plea.

Things like how the expression his father's face seemed something like betrayal.

Things like how cold it suddenly felt and how chilly that water spell had been…

The ground rumbled beneath him and Harry's body twitched.

Charlie growled low in his throat. He was glad that the fight was pretty much over and that he didn't have to fight. He was also grateful for the fact that his family didn't seem particularly inclined to approach him, a detail that was very much appreciated. He felt that he might actually tear them to pieces if they were to come close enough right then.

He realized, with some confusion, that Harry was much smaller than he'd ever given some consideration. In fact, he felt rather fragile and thin as he held him close, unsure of what to do as the small body twitched, jerked and alternately shivered in spasms. Whatever Harry had done, the effects were horrible. It made a soft, sad sound spill from his lips as Charlie, unable to help himself, bent his head and nuzzled that pale face.

His jaws ached and his feet burned.

More pain. Again.

Why did it always come back to pain…?

The majority of the chaos still reigned, but it was slowly clearing up to the tune of Dumbledore's voice as he barked out a string of orders quickly carried out.

Those that could retreat, did and had.

Most of them could not.

Thus the remaining were taken into custody by the gaggle of Aurors and Order members.

The Dementors now reluctantly dispersed, as a dementor speaker from Azkaban portkeyed in to herd them together. They had remained at first, hovering menacingly overhead, but not venturing low enough to do any real damage after Charlie's fiery attack. Now, they were summoned forward and forced into a shadowy portal that would take them back to Azkaban where they belonged. The thin flute the speaker played, ensured that each of the eerie, darkened specters would obey his given request.

A low rumble in the ground shook them all and warily, Aurors crouched, prisoners in hand, as they all braced for another, unknown wave.

Instead, a small crack in the ground appeared—a few feet away from Charlie and Harry—and a moment later, a great bolt of golden light shot out. It reformed into the tall scowling figure of one Theodore Nott.

A Theodore Nott in full half-ling Dragel glory.

He stood tall, fury rolling off of him in tangible waves, clad in only a smooth pair of trim, black trousers, his upper body bare. His thick, dark brown wings, colored with a smattering of golden scales and armored spines, flared out behind and above him, growing exponentially larger than physically possible from such a small body until they towered well over him. His hands and feet were black, curled claws and his eyes, an angry, burning golden hue.

He scented the air and took in the sight of Charlie and Harry. The scowl darkened and he immediately clasped his hands together as if in prayer and began to chant in an otherworldly voice. "Terris Sukey. Brindus. Terris Makindor. Brindus. Terris Alomath. Brindus. By the honor of my soul and the stake of my life, to the three guardians of the earth that protect me, I beg of you to spare the life of my disobedient mate. The contracts with you are upheld by my hand and mine alone. I gave access, but meant no disrespect by it. Judge as you wish. I speak no dishonesty. Exact your price upon my body alone. I offer my innocence and accept your binding." His eyes flared bright gold. "Brindus!"

From shadowy wisps on Harry, the little snatches of shadow melted off of the limp body cradled in Charlie's arms. It streaked over to Theo and wrapped around his wrists, ankles and neck, crisscrossing over his chest as if it were a straightjacket, tightening and jerking his body rigid, before they flared gold and then sunk in beneath the skin, away from sight.

Lips pressed into a thin line, Theo immediately turned his back to the duo, holding a protective stance. His magic crackled around him in visible sparks of white-gold power. Thin lips curled backwards into a hiss and then, he spoke.

"What happened here?"

Another tremor rippled through the ground.

Dumbledore was the first one to get up and he strode forward, stopping when Theo's head swiveled to hiss at him, angry golden eyes promising pain with a single breath.

"Do not come any closer, old man! I left him in your care. Do you truly believe I will forget this?"

Dumbledore opened his mouth, but found that he could not speak.

Theo's scowl grew more pronounced as turned away from the elderly wizard and took in the damage from the fight and the obvious changes, such as the large, gaping tear in the ground and the partially scorched yard. He rubbed his forehead and then his face. A heavy sigh left his lips as he stretched a hand out and began to mutter softly beneath his breath.

With a rumble, the tear in the ground came back together—only to swallow the burnt, charred remains of Rowle—before smoothing out to a more level yardspace. A definite improvement on what it had been before. A quirk of his eyebrow had the scorched grass suddenly turning green again, coming in thick and lush, without a hint of the dusty, mudhole spaces there'd been before. A few more waves of his hand, here and there, and things were quickly set to rights.

The aggrieved expression on the young man's face spoke volumes as he took a short, breath and then turned his attention to the soft, pained panting of Shadow, that now drew his attention. Charlie's water charm had doused the flames of the fire spell that had consumed its wings. Now, Theo surveyed it with a look of respect and interest. "You were brave little one." He congratulated it, bending down to stroke the cold, scaled face. "Will you let me help you?" A wet, forked tongue poked out and weakly lapped at the dominant Dragel's hand. Golden fire flashed in Theo's eyes and as he rested one hand on the center of the Nytura's face, the golden energy spread outward from his touch, enveloping the entire body.

The feathered wings gave way to broad, leathery ones, and a boned ridge of protective armor rose up from the sweet face. Theo gave a satisfactory smile as he finished, proud of the Nytura's transformation and recovery. "What exactly did Harry call you?" He mused, stroking the swiftly warming scales. "And would you mind returning to your alternate form?"

Pale violet eyes glowed to a deep plum-colored hue and then with a very obvious swirl of black shadowy wisps, a kitten-sized Nytura sat obediently, waiting. Theo smiled. He winced when the little creature suddenly lunched forward and sank an entire mouthful of sharp, pointed teeth into his wrist. He let it. A moment later, the little mouth withdrew and the head cocked to the side.

'You are Harry's mate?'

Theo scooped it up and allowed it to settle on his shoulders. "I am." He admitted. "What was your name?"

'Shadow. Harry has named me Shadow. I like it.' The Nytura tucked itself around Theo's neck, with a half-hearted slap at one exposed ear. 'That was for taking so long to come.' It scolded. 'My master called for you and you did not come!'

"I came as soon as I was able." He reached up with one claw and gently raked it down the scaled body. The Nytura sniffed, but allowed the caress and accepted the given explanation—for the moment.

A soft whimper drew both of their attentions at once.

Theo's head snapped around, the gold eyes roving before they settled on Harry's limp form cradled in Charlie's arm. His patience snapped and his instincts surged forward. "Give me that!" He growled, remembering at once, his reason for earth-traveling straight to this point. His Dragel self had seen Harry as protected and thus allowed him to react to the situation of the ruined surroundings and strange witches and wizards.

Charlie shrank backwards, tightening his hold on Harry at the sight of a very obviously enraged Dragel. Give Harry to that? No way!

Theo growled, low in his throat, a sound that seemed to make the very earth and time still.

"Give me my mate!" He snarled. "He is not yours and you have laid no claim on him!" He'd been content to let Harry rest with Charlie for the more necessary option of righting the wrongs done by the backlash of his elemental gift.

Charlie slowly shook his head, bracing inward and outward. His initial reaction demanded that he yield to this powerful creature, but something inside him now balked at the thought of handing over a defenseless Harry to this enraged figure. Even as he shook his head, Charlie sensed that this was perhaps, not the right answer to give.

"You dare defy me?" Theo hissed. "You think I will let you live with such insolence?" Golden magic crackled in the air once more.

Charlie opened his mouth to protest, but a keening wail came out instead. Horror painted itself across his features. That hadn't been what he'd intended to say at all.

Theo's look softened at once. The wings shrank somewhat to more natural proportions as the angry Dragel stalked forward. The moment he was close enough, the wings curled forward, hiding their interaction from view. He reached out with one claw and yanked Charlie upright to his feet from where the redhead had knelt, cradling Harry's limp figure. He bent down to sniff Harry's head and then gave a dismissive snort, content with whatever the action had revealed. "Do you know what you are asking?" His voice was weighted.

Charlie whined, softly. He could no longer help himself as ancient blood and power surged through his veins, drawing his Dragel instincts to the forefront.

"You will have to be patient, my dragonheart." One clawed hand stretched out and tenderly stroked one cold, generously freckled cheek. "And it will hurt."

The redhead merely shook his head.

"Don't drop him." A smirk overtook Theo's features and without warning, the claw cupping Charlie's cheek, suddenly slashed downwards, tearing the shirt fabric and baring the pale neck before him. A wicked gleam flickered in those golden eyes and Theo stretched forward and sank his fangs into the supple, unmarked skin. His now freed hands wrapped around Charlie and held him possessively close, sandwiching Harry between them. He bit deeper than necessary and held his fangs in the wound long enough to make his point.

He did not drink the blood.

Charlie's eyes were squeezed shut and his jaw clenched tight, but he made no move to fight off the other Dragel. A quiet whine had started and stopped as abruptly as it had begun.

Theo gave a pleased rumble and stood back, loosening his hold to survey his bloodied mark. Yes. That would do for now. How lucky. The golden eyes flashed again and a soft blue circle of light hummed to life beneath the trio.

"Temptrificus Portgas!" Theo intoned, as his wings began to shrink and fold back. "Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry, Professor Snape's quarters."

In a flash of blue light, there was nothing left.

SUNDAY AFTERNOON : HOGWARTS GROUNDS : FORBIDDEN FOREST

Hermione woke to a warm, wet tongue laving her face. She blinked, squirmed—or rather—tried to do both. Her body ached and burned in a way that warned her that she'd done something foolish that would not be so easily forgotten. With some effort, her eyes opened and she stared upwards into the face of a large black hound.

Her scream was muffled in her throat and she gave a painful, rasping cough instead.

The dog lurched forward and was soon enthusiastically licking her throat.

Panic filled her and Hermione struggled valiantly to regain control of her lax body.

A moment later, the pain in her throat eased.

She gave a gasping breath.

The dog then gently caught a mouthful of her Gryffindor sweater and attempted to tug her upright. She winced and awkwardly tried to flow with the movement. It took some effort and then, suddenly, she was sitting up. The dog braced against her, allowing the shifting of weight and helping her to sit up as it nosed around her neck and whuffled into her damp, stringy hair.

Hermione pressed her lips together and trembled. The tears came again, in great big rivulets.

"They all hate me." She said, softly, as if in wonderment. "I haven't done a thing to them and they all hate me." She sniffled. "I don't understand." She stared at the dog. "All I do is read. I don't want anything. I just want to read and learn and live." She sniffled again. "I don't want anything from them. Just a little of their friendship. I just didn't want to be…alone." One shaky hand pressed to her lips as if to muffle the sob that broke free. "I just want to learn!" She wailed. "I know I'm not pretty or powerful or rich, but I try. I try to make up for it."

The dog licked her face, swiping at the tear tracks.

She winked one eye shut, trying and failing to lean away from the expert swipes. "I mean, I don't get it." She said, plaintively. "I don't understand."

A squeak escaped as Hermione suddenly found herself suspended about a foot off the ground, held up by her sweater collar. She tried to twist and fight it, when the ground began to move and she swayed slightly, before she realized that the dog was carrying her. Squirming and wriggling only made the ride worse, so she tried to hold still and hoped that if her end was soon to come, that it wouldn't be painful.

Not after all the trouble she'd gone through to assure that it was painless.

It didn't register until several minutes later, that the dog which had been licking her face hadn't been anywhere near big enough to carry her and with that thought, Hermione did a very un-Hermione-like thing and fainted.

NOTE: The spell used by Harry in the last chapter. Terran Recro Algoe-means, "For the earth to repair". Literally asking for the earth to repair what has been taken

A/N: Theo's HERE! And obviously, Charlie's Dragel element is fire. His hair did not burn up, think of The Human Torch from the Fantastic Four, he can simply alter portions of his physical self, in Charlie's case. His hair will be a reflection of his temper and emotions, when he is calm, it will be as his normal hair, when he's really ticked off, well, we'll all know, won't we? ^_^ We're going to meet Theo's mentor, Ilsa Gorgens, soon! (and maybe get some answers as to where Harry's mentor is too...)
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There Be Dragons, Harry