Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Chronicle of Scales: Dragkyn Rising	By : BrutalTrvth Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 32267 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: The magical world of Harry Potter was created by JK Rowling. Therefore I don't own it. I'm also not getting paid for this.

Chapter List
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Harry stumbled out of Madam Malkin’s about an hour later, loaded down with seven large bags filled with clothes. It turned out that robes and cloaks weren’t the Madam’s only product. She had also been designing a full range of muggle-style clothing, a hobby she had taken up after her son went and married his muggle-born wife. Madam Malkin had fair flown into a rage when she discovered that Harry was dressing in the few hand-me-downs that he had managed to take with him when fleeing from his family, and insisted that he take some of her products, entirely complimentary. A few simple charms were all it took to make sure the clothes fit properly, and while Flora’s reward had been amazing in its own right, Madam Malkin’s gift had left him absolutely speechless.
   Hagrid was waiting for him outside, leaning against the front of the store with his arms crossed over his chest as he glared down passersby. The crowd was giving the giant a fair amount of space despite how crowded the street was, which seemed to suit Hagrid just fine. Hagrid took one look at Harry’s burden and cocked an eye. “I wasn’t expecting you to be spending quite so much in there.”



   “Madam Malkin didn’t think it was right that I was still wearing Dudley’s scraps,” Harry replied. He couldn’t quite bring himself to admit that it was a reward for beating up another boy. He didn’t want Hagrid thinking that he was getting into fights carelessly. “Apparently she’s been designing muggle clothes on the side, and had some that would fit me.”
   “Ah, I see.” Hagrid nodded knowingly. “So it wasn’t for fighting with Draco Malfoy, then?”



   Harry turned pale as words failed him. “Hagrid, I-”
   Hagrid shook his head. “I wouldn’t worry about it, son. There have been plenty of folk who would have like to have been in your shoes, and while I don’t know the reason why exactly, I can’t imagine that it was a fight you went looking to start. But you do need to be careful with who you are getting into trouble. Your parents were powerful, and had many friends. Right now, you’re a teenage boy who has a total of one friend. There are a lot of people who say they’re all for you, because you put an end to Voldemort all those years ago and that meant that they didn’t have to be quite so afraid anymore. But they were afraid, and it kept them from doing something to make themselves any safer. Call it weakness, call it cowardice, the result is all the same. If they’re too scared to stand up for themselves, then they’ll be too scared to stand up for you. Malfoy, Lucius mind you, now he’s rotten to the core. He’s one of those I mentioned who got away in the end because of their wealth and friends. He’ll use those same ends to go after you if you keep interfering in his business.”
   “I’m sorry, Hagrid.” Harry looked down at the ground. “I promise I won’t do it again.”
   “That’s a fool’s promise, Harry.” Hagrid tucked his finger under Harry’s chin and forced the boy to look him in the eye. “Like I said, I don’t know why the fight started. But I’ll ask you this. Knowing what you know now, if it hadn’t been Draco, just some other boy from off the street, would you still have picked that fight?”
   Harry took his time to think about it. He could still smell the blood as it popped from under Draco’s skin, could still hear the sound of bone rearranging itself under his fists. He could still feel the rage at seeing Flora attacked, could still feel the raw hatred Malfoy’s sheer existence had provoked. Why had he really gotten into that fight? Was he defending Flora or had he just been looking for an excuse to attack Draco? Had he been the brave hero standing up for those weaker than himself or was he just another of the monsters battling it out for control?
   In the end all Harry could do was shake his head and say, “I don’t know. Just being around him made me want to hurt him. But it wasn’t until he actually hit someone else that I lost it.”
   Hagrid gave him a slow nod. “And there lies your answer. Don’t be afraid of a fight if its for all the right reasons. Just make sure that it’s a fight you’re willing to face the consequences for. Now come along, we’ve got a couple more stops to make and then its back to the Toiling for dinner.”
   He clapped Harry on the shoulder, then pushed off the wall and took the bags Harry had been holding. What had taken Harry both hands took Hagrid only a couple of fingers. Then the pair was off into the crowd, which flowed around them like water under the hull of a ship. Their destination was possibly the ugliest building that Harry had ever seen. It was a squat, brick-shaped piece of white sandstone sitting on its own block in the middle of the street, with no decorations or hints at what its purpose might be for. There were no windows anywhere Harry could see. The word GRINGOTTS had been carved in block letters above two black iron doors that looked to weigh several tons each.
   “Used to be a little more interesting than this,” Hagrid said as he pushed against the doors. He let out a grunt of effort, but after a moment the metal slab eased forward. “That was before Voldemort. He and his followers burned the last building down when they raided it during the war. The staff fought back, of course, but they were no match for Voldemort and his Death Eaters. No one knows if they were after something in particular or if they just wanted the gold or if they were after something else, but they managed to make it all the way down to the deepest vaults, some of which hadn’t been opened in centuries. With the records burned in the fire, there was no way to tell what, if anything, had been taken. Now you can only get in by appointment.”
   Hagrid nodded as he took a step into the darkness on the other side of the door. “Stay close, and keep your hands were they can see them.”
   “Where who can see them?” Harry whispered as he stepped into the inky blackness. Whispering just seemed appropriate. Harry grabbed on to the back of Hagrid’s coat with his left hand, afraid of losing his guardian as the door groaned shut behind them. He was careful to make sure that his right hand was anywhere but his pocket.
   “The goblins,” Hagrid murmured back.
   “Goblins?”
   “Yes, goblins, Mister Potter.” Light flared into being, illuminating a child-sized figure dressed in a chain mail vest, suit coat, and formal pants. His cheeks and forehead were marked by grandfatherly wrinkles, and little tufts of white hair puffed out over his eyes and ears. But there was a meanness to his eyes as he stared down his long nose at Harry, and Harry was fairly sure the short sword hanging from the goblin’s waist was perfectly functional. Even if it wasn’t, there were the two stone golems standing to either side of the diminutive creature. Both were larger than Hagrid, their bodies crisscrossed by veins of magma that glowed faintly in the darkness. “Come. This is best over quickly.”
   The goblin motioned for the giant and boy to follow him, and as Harry and Hagrid stepped into the light it expanded just far enough to encompass them as well. The two golems fell into step at the rear, making sure no one strayed from the path the goblin was leading them down.
   “Is it always this dark in here?” Harry asked, trying to strike up a conversation. The quiet from their guide was starting to unnerve him.
   “Does the darkness worry you, Mister Potter?” the goblin asked. “Then it is doing its job. We tried to make our bank a place of light and space, a place where wizards could do their business without worry, and what was our reward? Our lovely bank was burned, our fathers and sons slaughtered as they tried to defend the property of other people, much of which had been stolen from our ancestors to begin with. Oh, we learned our lesson, of that you can be sure. From darkness we came, and to darkness we returned. For you the night is a time of fear, but for us it is a promise of security. Let those who would attack us now try their hand, for the shadows hide many surprises and not one of them is pleasant!”
   “I’ll take your word for it,” Harry said quietly as he tightened his grip on Hagrid’s coat.
   The goblin led them to a small elevator shaft filled by a box formed from more black iron. The light followed them inside, which gave Harry a chance to investigate the elevator. Or he would have, had there been anything to investigate. The walls, ceiling, and floor were all black. There were no buttons, no markings or any other sign of controls. After turning around a couples of times Harry wasn’t even sure which side the door was supposed to be on. For a claustrophobe it would have been an absolute nightmare, and even though Harry had grown up sleeping in a cupboard he still couldn’t help but think there wasn’t enough room. Then the elevator began to move.
   Everyone has had that dream where they are falling and never stop. That was what riding the elevator felt like. Harry knew there was a floor beneath his feet, he knew that he was looking right at it and that it was just black and that it was all perfectly safe, but it didn’t feel that way. Instead he could feel the sense of weightlessness, his stomach climbing up into his throat as the nonexistent world fell away from him. There was nothing to grab on to, nothing to catch himself. His fingers were wrapped in Hagrid’s coat, but Hagrid was falling too, one of the few real things in a dimension that had no limits. On and on it went for only God knew how long.
   “We’re here,” the goblin suddenly announced, just a moment before the falling ended. Harry still couldn’t see any indicator of where they were or how far down they had gone, but the wall in front of him slid open to reveal paradise.
   Gold. There was lots and lots of gold. Goldgoldgoldgoldgold! Chemical designation Au, the shiny yellow stuff, the metal that had driven men mad as they quested for it. And it was all his. Gleaming piles, shining piles, glittering piles. All his! The vault must have been the size of a football stadium, and the gold went all the way to the end of his sight. Oh, sure, there were other things in the room. There were rubies and emeralds, silver antiques, and diamond studded gems. Ancient weapons from a hundred different empires stood ready in their racks, while a pair of chariots sat parked to either end. Oh, and there might also have been some gold.
   Harry stumbled into the room, unsure of where to start. He ran his hands over an enormous gold chest, some three feet wide, three deep, and just over four long. Gold rings had been mounted to side so that it could be lifted on poles, and the lid was decorated with a pair of kneeling angels, their wings stretched forward so that they were touching tip to tip. The lid moved easily when pushed it to the side, and Harry was mildly disappointed to discover the magnificent chest held only what looked like a thick layer of grey dust. Still, once it was cleaned out it would make the perfect place to keep all the clothes Madam Malkin had gifted him.
   “Hagrid, can we take this with us?” Harry breathed. “I mean, if its not too much of a burden…”



   Hagrid let out a belly-deep laugh. “I think I can make some arrangements to have it delivered to the dorms once we know what house you’re in. Mind you, your room mates might find it a bit ostentatious.”
   “I don’t care,” Harry replied as he hugged the chest. “It’s absolutely perfect. I can keep my books and clothes in it.”
   “I bet you’d be able to keep more than just that in there,” Hagrid said, shaking his head in amusement. “But I think we might want to get on with getting some of the gold we need to get your wand.”



   Harry nodded obediently and walked over to one of the piles of coins. He scooped some into a bag handed to him by the goblin. After thinking about it a little more he scooped up a second handful. Then a third, a fourth, and a fifth, until the bag looked ready to split at the seams. One could never have too much gold, after all.
   “I really hate dragkyns,” the goblin muttered as he watched Harry greedily fill the bag.
   The ride back up was much less disturbing then the ride down. Rising was almost like flying, so Harry just closed his eyes and imagined that was what he was doing. He was almost disappointed when it was time to step off the elevator and back into the blacked out lobby. The walk out was faster than the walk in, as the goblin couldn’t wait to be rid of them and Harry and Hagrid couldn’t wait to be back outside in the sunlight.
   “Where next?” Harry asked as he basked in the warmth of the sun’s rays.
   “Only thing left to do is get your wand,” Hagrid answered. “And there’s only one place to do that. Ollivander’s.”
   Ollivander’s shop had clearly been designed by the same person who had built Madam Malkin’s. It had that same nondescript feel to it, with the outside painted a plain brown. There was no sign above the door, but the window had been painted with the name “Ollivander’s”. There was no saying what it was Ollivander actually sold, which made Harry wonder if this was the sort of shop that was so expensive it didn’t dare to advertise, or if it was so popular that there was simply no need for it.
   A small fan hung from the ceiling in the middle of the store, its blades slowly spinning round and round as it stirred the scents of mahogany, oak, and pine. Whereas Madam Malkin’s had felt oppressive with its clutter, Ollivander’s was neat and orderly. Display cases had been laid out at precise intervals, leaving room for quick and easy navigation between their shelves. Those same shelves were packed with identically shaped and sized white boxes, though there were actual products in view.
   “Hello, hello!” An older gentleman of about the same age as Madam Malkin appeared from behind one of the display cases as the bell over the door announced Hagrid and Harry’s arrival. His outfit was a little more modern than most Harry had seen, but it still had a certain vintage feel to it. “You must be Harry Potter, correct?”
   “Ah, yes,” Harry said, surprised to be recognized so easily. Most people needed to actually be introduced to him before they did the usual double take. Ollivander had skipped right past that to shaking Harry’s hand.
   “Welcome to my shop,” Ollivander said, adding a small bow. “I suspect you are wondering how I knew you were coming, yes?”
   “Yes, actually,” Harry frowned.
   Ollivander smiled. “Because all come to Ollivander before their first year. Time was running short, and who else would be here with Hagrid as their escort? Ah, Hagrid. Maple, ten inches, thestral hair?”
   “That’s the one,” Hagrid said with a grin. He patted the small pouch that carried his wand.
   “Ah, but that wasn’t the first one, was it?” Ollivander said, holding up a finger. “No, that was oak, sixteen inches, and dragon heartstring.”
   Hagrid nodded, but the grin was gone. “Yeah. I had that one originally.”
   “But that’s not important now.” Ollivander waved his hand in dismissal of the topic he had raised. “No, now we need a wand for young Mister Potter. And I can imagine there is only one wand that would be fit for him. It is, of course, a very special wand…”
   The old man disappeared back behind the shelf that he had appeared from behind. Harry tried to follow him, but when he rounded the corner he discovered that Ollivander had vanished. Harry turned around to ask Hagrid what he should do, only to discover that Ollivander was already behind him. The old man held out an open box. The wand that lay inside was a pale tan, straight and narrow with thin bands of dark brown swirling through its length. Harry immediately felt drawn to it, and as he reached out to take the wand began to vibrate in against the paper stuffing it was cradled by.
   “Silver maple, twelve inches,” Ollivander murmured as the wand leapt into Harry’s hand. “The core taken from the scales of a silver dragkyn. He only ever made the one donation, just as his father had done before him, and his father’s father had done, all the way back to Argenturos himself.”
   “Who?” Harry asked as he stared at the wand in wonder. It felt almost as if it were a part of his very being. Just touching it made him feel whole, as if he had spent his entire life with only one arm and suddenly woke up one day to find he had two.
   “Argenturos was a silver dragon, one who fathered a line of dragkyn,” Ollivander explained. “But the man who provided the scales? Why boy, that was none other than your father. It has always been a tradition in your family that a child’s first wand come from the scales of either their mother or their father. It gives the wand and its bearer a bond far stronger than most wizards could ever hope to attain. The feats you may accomplish with that by your side are impossible to describe, for they beggar an old man’s imagination.”
   “My father…” Harry looked at the wand with an even greater sense of wonder. He turned towards Ollivander and bowed. “Thank you, sir. You’ve given a greater gift than you can possibly imagine.” Harry reached for the purse at his waist. “How much do I owe you for this? Name your price, and it is yours.”
   Ollivander held up his hands against Harry’s offer. “I cannot take your payment, Harry. This wand was purchased many years ago, when your parents saved the life of my granddaughter. Without them, I would have spent the last few decades wondering what could have been. Instead I have spent them making many happy memories. Take it. The wand is yours. No cost.”
   Harry looked down at the wand his father had gifted him, and for the first time in a long time, began to cry.

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@BBWulf: Thank you! Glad it gave you a chuckle!
@Jess: The official couple of the story is Hagrid x Fawkes. (With Dumbledore dead, Hagrid was the only one who could heal the poor phoenix's broken heart.) This will be a het story, hence the M/F and M/F/F codes. As for the story focusing on Flora, so far Harry's gotten far more screen time, so she's gone off to audition for a supporting role in a Lord of the Rings slash fic where she'll play Legolas's estranged lesbian wife. We wish her the best of luck, and fully expect her back when the plot demands it. Which probably won't be for a while since Hermione has the next scene. Enter, staaaaaage left!
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Chronicle of Scales: Dragkyn Rising