Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

An Offering of Dragons	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 8786 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Thank you again for all the reviews!
Chapter Five—Swedish Short-Snout
            “Welcome, yes, of course,” Wilma Rask, their guide, said with a sweep of one robed arm. Her eyes were set so deep under brows so furrowed that it was a struggle for Draco to see that they were a hash blue. “But more to the point, we have an escaped dragon on our hands. Have you received training as an Auror? I think I heard that.”
            “Er,” said Harry. Even though Draco’s heart had bounded as though someone was trying to rip it out of his chest, he did have to smirk a little to see the way that Harry was trying to get his mental balance so abruptly. “Yes. I’m an Auror. But I’m not an Obliviator. Did Muggles already see the dragon?”
            He sounded more distant and confident with every minute that passed, as though someone had tried to roll him from his feet and he’d Stunned them in response. Rask studied him for a second, then seemed to decide she liked what she saw.
            “No.” She stepped back and led them out of the way of the Floo they’d come through. Glancing over his shoulder, Draco could see the silhouette of someone else getting ready to step out. “We have our own Obliviators. But we need help to cage the dragon before it burns down any more buildings.”
            “Any more buildings?” Draco asked, because he couldn’t help himself.
            “Yes.” Rask took him in with something like contempt in her eyes, and then turned pointedly away. She glanced at Harry. “We’ve sometimes heard through our colleagues that you did amazing things.”
            “Colleagues?” Harry looked as though he was looking around for Auror robes. “I thought you were a Dragon-Keeper. Do they work that closely with the Ministry that year?”
            “I was referring to fellow Dragon-Keepers who saw you take on dragons who were making an enormous problem and conquer them,” Rask said dryly. “Ask Idasson and Allison MacFusty both commended you to me.”
            Draco barely kept from rolling his eyes. Of course no one here really cared about Harry’s celebrity in British wizarding society, but he would pick up some notoriety of his own anyway.
            To his credit, Harry seemed to realize that he might not deserve that fame, or it might break his promise to Draco, because he smiled apologetically at him. “I did that,” he said. “But it was out of necessity, when the dragons were threatening me and my partner. I might not be as good at it when it involves hunting down and trapping, well, a dragon that isn’t right there.”
            “If you’re worried about not knowing the spells or improvising, you don’t need to,” said Rask. “We’ll teach you as we go. Ready?” She was already turning to face the door of the Floo station, as though Harry had agreed, walking along without giving him a backwards glance.
            “Rask. Wait.”
            Rask turned around and actually tapped her foot on the floor. Draco couldn’t restrain a cough of incredulity, but he managed to turn it into an actual cough when she turned to look at him. He wanted to shake his head, though. For fuck’s sake. Does she really think that Harry is so good he can jump at something an expert Dragon-Keeper would balk at?
            “I don’t think I’m as good as you think I am.” Harry was brightly flushed, and he glanced at Draco as if he thought Draco would back him up. Draco just put a light hand on his shoulder. Harry seemed to draw strength from it anyway, and faced Rask with some determination. “And I promised my partner that I wouldn’t take any more unnecessary risks.”
            Draco relaxed a little. He did remember that promise. I’m impressed.
            “You’re still a bit of extra manpower when we’re short some hands thanks to the dragon’s burning two before it took off,” said Rask with imperturbable determination, her lip curling a little. “And I didn’t think you’d care that much about the nationality of the people you were saving. None of the descriptions of you said that.”
            “The descriptions aren’t always true,” Harry said, but Draco could tell he was weakening. He turned to Draco.
            “They need someone,” said Draco. He didn’t know whether the dragon was rampaging through a village or town or city, but it was evident that the Dragon-Keepers needed help. “Why don’t you go and do it?”
            Harry flashed him a brilliant smile, kissed his cheek, and then raced after Rask. She was telling him something in a voice so fast Draco couldn’t make out the words even before they turned on the spot and Disapparated. Draco sighed a little and turned to find his way to the hostel where he and Harry would be staying.
            “Draco Malfoy?”
            Draco’s hand went at once to his wand; he had grown used to that tone in the last few years before he finally began to get some traction in his job and the social world around Britain, and people had stopped thinking he would turn back into a Death Eater at any second. But the face when he turned was so unexpectedly, joyfully familiar that he could only stare.
            “Pansy?” he finally whispered.
*
            “Keep in mind that the Swedish Short-Snout has extremely hot fire, and they can fly faster than you’d think when you see the length of them. Keep that in mind, and you might not die.”
            For someone who wants help, Harry thought, a little disgruntled, as he and Rask began to move slowly down the streets of the Swedish wizarding village the dragon had invaded, she sure sounds like no one but a Dragon-Keeper would really satisfy her to take care of the thing.
            He peered cautiously around a wall. The houses resembled the ones in Hogsmeade, but they were almost entirely made of stone, covered with roofs of hardened thatch that would probably shed rain and snow. The streets were wide, wandering, and deserted. Harry could see the mountains looming in the background and a small pool lapping up to the stones nearby.
            And then he could see the dragon.
            It did take him by surprise with how large it was and how swiftly it flew. Maybe it wasn’t larger than the Hungarian Horntail, but then, Harry hadn’t had to face once circling above him before he could fly himself. The dragon sliced the air like a glittering Muggle aeroplane—it was silver-blue and reminded him of a jet—before it pulled a soft breath into its nostrils and released it.
            The fire was blue and almost pretty, and Harry could feel it from here. Hot, he thought, before he raised his wand and shouted out the first incantation Rask had given him. She’d told him the wand movements were the same as for most other fire spells.
            “Ablegatio!”
            The spell rose up like a firework and connected with the trailing edge of the flame before it could light more than a few shutters on fire. In seconds, the flame combusted inwards, silently, and vanished. Harry found himself shuddering from the power he’d expended to do that, though. Magic had flowed out of him for a full five seconds after the flame had disappeared.
            And the sight, or the sound of the spell, or both, had alerted the Short-Snout there was someone nearby. It settled to the ground in a second, behind a tall house, out of sight.
            Harry grimaced. Rask had asked him to serve as a distraction while the other Dragon-Keepers worked to weave a net around the village and get the dragon caught within it, tangling its wings so it couldn’t fly. By the looks of it, she’d already taken off to join them. This was going to take more than just casting a few fire-blocking spells here and there.
            He was glad Draco hadn’t heard Rask say that before they got out of sight.
            Harry strode casually into the middle of a particularly broad crossing of streets that he thought must be similar to a village square. His shoulders ached as though someone was pressing giant hands into them. He held out his wand and did the only thing he could think of. “Here, dragony, dragony, dragony!”
            He could hear a shocked gasp from someone behind him, probably one of Rask’s people. Harry didn’t bother looking in that direction. He didn’t have time, and he didn’t need to see a shaking head or a pointing finger.
            Besides, the dragon was already looking at him, slender neck curling around one side of a house. Harry dropped his hands a little and clapped them, fingers curling.
            The dragon took off towards him, wings whanging off roofs. Harry heard what sounded like tiles clashing and falling, and had a brief moment of satisfaction. I knew that couldn’t be thatch.
            Then the blue-silver shape was above him, shining like a dream or a unicorn, and the great fanged jaws were unhinging. Somewhere behind them, far down the throat, was fire that lit the night around them when it stabbed down.
            Harry whirled aside. The Swedish Short-Snout was precise with its flame, but at the moment, that precision was a problem for it. The flame stabbed the stones in a way that made them bubble and melt, but they weren’t the stones that Harry was standing on anymore.
            He held up his hands and lit his wand as he leaned against the side of the house, wriggling the point of brilliance back and forth to keep and hold the dragon’s attention. He could see a glittering net of magic starting up behind some of the houses. It was probably the spell Rask and the others were casting, but they had warned him that the Short-Snout could soar over it easily until it got higher than the roofs.
            “Want to play?” Harry asked under his breath as the dragon coiled its body a little. He thought it would breathe again, and he was ready once more to dodge. The hole that the flame had chewed in the stone beside him was actually not a problem, with heat bubbling out of it but sinking deeper and deeper, like magma.
            But the dragon didn’t breathe again. Instead it dived, one claw held out as if it was going to pick him up and carry him like a hawk.
            Harry didn’t wait to see if the dragon was as precise with its feet as it was with its fire. He vaulted straight into the air and cast a Sticking Charm as he landed, clinging to a wall on the other side of the house. Then he dropped down and ran madly towards the pool. He supposed that was safe, still within the radius of the houses.
            The dragon soared after him, shadow sweeping along the ground. Harry already knew it could fly faster than he could run.
            He ought to be scared sick. He really should. The jolts up his legs made him dizzy and he wanted to vomit.
            He ought to be sick.
            He ought to.
            But what he was, instead, was swift, plunging into the pool a second ahead of one reaching talon. He swam down into the water, cast a hasty Bubble-Head Charm as he popped up once, and then dived again. He felt the water vibrate and steam around him as the dragon breathed fire at him, but with the Bubble-Head Charm, he could dive deeply enough that the scalding didn’t trouble him.
            He turned and squinted up through the water. There was a shadow still circling around there, which meant he still had the Short-Snout’s attention. Good.
            Harry took a deep breath of the air in the bubble, although he knew it really didn’t make much difference, and then stoked straight up again. He heard the roar as he broke the surface, although it was oddly muted because of the charm.
            He cast a quick spell that made the water rise in a spout directly up at the dragon. It turned some more fire to steam, but better than that, it smacked the dragon in the chest and knocked its flying off-angle for a second. The Short-Snout roared angrily and struggled upright with a wavering beat of its wings.
            Even the roar was almost musical, Harry thought, tilting his head back as he trod water. The Short-Snout was faster and more agile and more beautiful and all sorts of more than the other dragons he and Draco had seen on this holiday.
            As if it could hear him thinking, the Short-Snout turned and plunged towards the pool. Harry dropped back under the surface and swam down as fast as he could, but he wasn’t sure that it would be enough this time. Like a great bird, the Short-Snout landed and kept clawing, kept reaching, making Harry flail desperately out of the way.
            But even that couldn’t stop the song of Harry’s own heart in his ears, or his delight in being here and seeing the dragon. Though he did rather hope that the Dragon-Keepers would be quick about the net they were setting up.
*
            “So what are you doing here with Potter?”
            Draco could feel his smile fading as he sat back from Pansy’s table and looked around her neat little home. It was made of layered wood and stone, melded together with magic, and snug despite the large glass windows and the view of snow-covered mountains outside. Draco wondered if she would mind if he wandered outside and simply neglected to answer her question.
            “You heard me,” said Pansy, and tapped a long, lacquered nail on the table. It was a fashion Draco didn’t remember her using when she lived in Britain. Of course, the last time he had seen her was years ago, and her life had probably changed just as much as his had.
            “I did.” Draco faced her and decided that he could answer with simple words and hope that satisfied her. Once, it would have. Pansy was curious like a leaping cat, and never curious enough to really chase down the source of other people’s lives and changes. “I started dating Potter a while ago. It’s casual, nothing more. Then he wanted to go on holiday, and he wanted to go see dragon sanctuaries. He invited me to come with him.”
            Pansy raised a hand as if she was going to stop Draco’s words from flying towards her. “I think you’re skipping the most fascinating part of all this, Draco dear.” Draco sipped some tea from his cup and raised her eyebrows, and Pansy gave him a slightly mean smile. “You and Potter. Dating. Go.” She laid her palms on the table and waited.
            Draco kept himself from sighing, because that would only encourage her. He bit the inside of his cheek instead, and said, “It wasn’t that—that strange. We drew near each other over time. We forgave each other. There was no sudden night of passion when we tumbled into each other’s arms, or anything like that.”
            In fact, it had sometimes bothered Draco, that lack of anything that could be called a true beginning. He and Harry didn’t have a story, as such. They had dates, and then they had sleeping together, and meals together, and conversations that had never got that deep until Harry had asked Draco to come with him. Draco understood why, now. They had both been protecting their own hearts.
            And he was keeping from me exactly how dangerous his cases got. He thought that was protecting my heart.
            Draco shook his head a little and looked into Pansy’s eyes. “I keep thinking he’s going to leave me for a Gryffindor,” he said. “Someone he can share nights of tumultuous passion and a happy ending with.”
            “Tell me when he does it,” Pansy said. “I’ll curse the bint.” She leaned forwards with a little clap of her nails. “Now. Tell me.”
            “I already did—”
            “Not that.” Pansy waved her hand again. “Tell me what it’s like to sleep with Harry Potter.”
*
            Dodging a dragon’s talons turned out to be more complicated than Harry had anticipated.
            The Short-Snout was able to stand on one foot and feel around with the other. Harry flung himself aside from a claw that ended up sticking in his shoulder for a second and spilling blood into the water. He heard, as from a dream, the triumphant screech of the dragon, and then it ducked its head and tried to clap its jaws on him.
            But Harry was already away, standing up in the shallower part of the pool and firing a Conjunctivitis Curse at the dragon. He wasn’t lucky enough to hit, but the way it had to flail in turn and roar granted him the time he needed to duck away.
            Plus, he was able to cast a small Diagnostic Charm on his shoulder. He sighed in relief when it turned out that the wound was a narrow, clean slash, Long, but not wide. He cast a Healing Charm at it, and then dived once more as a foot smashed the surface right above his head.
            The dragon seemed to be getting impatient. Harry saw it turn around in the water, dragging its tail. The wings lowered and beat, and then the dragon started using their edges to churn up the pool and the loose dirt and rock at the bottom.
            Not fair. Harry hadn’t even known that Swedish Short-Snouts could do that. On the other hand, the books he’d consulted did say that they were pretty fierce, and the dragon probably wanted him badly by now.
            Harry popped up again, fired another Conjunctivitis Curse, and ducked under. This time, the screech that rang behind him, higher-pitched than the roar, let him know that it’d landed.
            And then he heard something else, like a large sighing of wind through a million owl wings. Harry rolled over in the water and looked up apprehensively. The last thing he needed was this dragon’s mate or something coming to help it.
            But instead, it seemed the Dragon-Keepers had finally readied their net. It settled over the surface of the pool for a second. Harry got ready to cut through the soft, ultra-fine strands of magic—if he could—if they tried to take him in.
            In the end, though, the net contracted around the Short-Snout and hauled it back towards the village. With one eye blinded and perhaps with its wings and fire worn out by the damage it had already caused, the dragon didn’t really fight back. It climbed wearily out of the water, silver-blue scales running and streaming with liquid, and lay down on the shore with a final wavering scream.
            “Auror Potter?”
            It was Rask. Harry nodded and splashed out of the pool to meet her and the other two Dragon-Keepers—both dressed in much heavier padded robes than he was wearing, Harry couldn’t help noticing—standing with her. He removed the Bubble-Head Charm and said, “Yes. I had to blind one eye. That’s not going to cause permanent damage, is it?”
            “They’ve already reversed the spell,” Rask assured him. She stood in front of him with her hands folded near her stomach and her eyes shining. She’s like me, Harry thought, studying her. She enjoys danger. “You did well. Thanks to you, we were able to capture the dragon without undue damage to its wings.”
            “And without undue damage to the village, either,” added one of the other Dragon-Keepers, frowning at Rask.
            “Oh. Yes.” Rask’s shrug said so clearly that she thought the dragon was more important, Harry had to restrain a snigger. “Well. I’m glad that you were here.” She nodded in a friendly way to Harry. “I’ll invite the two of you for a tour of the sanctuary tomorrow, if you like. With dragons at a safe distance.”
            “I’m sure my partner will appreciate that,” Harry said, and cast a Drying Charm on his hair. “Do you know where Draco is? He’d probably like to know I’m all right.”
*
            “You haven’t given me nearly enough details,” Pansy complained, leaning back in her chair and swinging her heel so fast Draco thought she would probably crash her foot into his leg. “All these things about feelings. Not enough about sensations.”
            Draco had sometimes been good at ignoring Pansy when he wanted to, and now he was good at it again. Leaning back in his chair, he scanned the sky, wondering if they would get to see the dragon before it loosed fire on Pansy’s house.
            Then he sat up and stared. There was a dragon drifting above the nearest mountain slope, but it wasn’t flying. It seemed to float in the middle of a conjured net, the ends of which were held by several marching people. Walking at the head of the line was a figure in different robes, and shaggy black hair Draco could recognize even at this distance.
            “Darling, where are you going?”
            But Draco didn’t respond as he tore out of Pansy’s house and down the slope a bit. When he thought he could see enough of the ground between him and Harry that he wouldn’t end up Splinched, he Apparated.
            He appeared right in front of Harry, who didn’t even blink. He just swung Draco around and smiled at him, kissing him on the cheek with a resounding smack. Draco flushed and wrapped his arms around Harry to keep his balance, then looked up at the dragon in the middle of the net.
            “You captured him.” He must have sounded stupid, because Rask darted him a hard glance.
            But Harry didn’t care about that any more than he cared about Draco kissing him right in front of everyone. “Right, I did,” he said, with a nod. “It took some water and a Conjunctivitis Curse—well, a few of them, the first one didn’t land—and some Healing spells, but I got him. Even if he wounded me.”
            Draco pulled back at once. Normally he would have thought he’d notice if Harry was injured, but perhaps it was under his clothes. “Where?”
            He saw where, before Harry could answer him. A long strip of thin cloth still dangled from Harry’s robe’s shoulder, and there was a pink line in the skin underneath it, although it had been cleaned of blood. Draco put his hand on Harry’s shoulder and did some hostile glaring that Harry answered with an unrepentant shrug.
            “It wasn’t deep, and it did heal,” Harry said.
            “You idiot,” Draco hissed at him. “I suppose you think I wouldn’t be devastated if you died? That because this has been casual so far, you don’t think I would have a right to mourn?”
            “I—er—”
            “I have as good a right as anyone else,” Draco said, and decided that Harry had been walking on his feet for too long. He conjured a stretcher, cast a Lightening Charm on Harry, picked him up, plopped him into the stretcher, and then leaned over to kiss him.
            Harry looked a little surprised, but also not inclined to object. He leaned his neck up and kissed Draco hard enough to numb Draco’s lips. Draco didn’t give a shit. He raised the stretcher into the air with a flick of his wand and moved a little so that he could continue kissing Harry from a more convenient angle.
            A little gasp behind him made him turn, although he still only ended the kiss when he was damn good and ready. Pansy was standing there with her hand over her mouth and her half-lidded eyes moving from him to Harry.
            “Well,” she said. “Now I think I understand.”
            Harry blinked at Draco in response, but Draco leaned over and gave Harry another kiss, and he forgot to ask.
            Which was all to the good, in Draco’s opinion. He and Harry had things to talk about, but they didn’t necessarily include Pansy.
They might include why he wants to keep risking his life, though. I could do with some information about that.
- 4
- 5
- 6
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

An Offering of Dragons