Chapter 17
"A dragon," Harry stated flatly, staring at the slime covered hatchling as it staggered around the tabletop. "As in, a fire breathing winged lizard that grows to several times the size of this hut inside a year."
Hagrid ignored the boy, busy cooing at the little beast, even after it hiccupped and set his beard on fire.
"Aye, a dragon. And isn't he a beauty! Look at the little tyke! Got the egg from a fella down the pub; won him in a game of poker."
"Hagrid," Harry tried again. "Dragons can't control their flame breath until they reach three months old, by which time they're usually the size of a draft horse."
"That's right," Hagrid agreed, still barely listening.
"You live in a wooden hut," the young crime lord stated, fighting the overwhelming urge to facepalm.
Hagrid continued to ignore him, absently patting at his still smouldering beard.
Draco and the twins stared in silent awe at the infant menace, their eyes shining.
"Our brother, Charlie-"
"Works at a Dragon Reserve in Romania," said the twins, glancing at Harry.
Harry nodded, understanding their point and giving permission.
They nodded back in unison, already planning out the letter they would send.
Draco caught on immediately, and though sad he wouldn't get the chance to help care for his namesake, immediately fell into line.
"Hagrid," he forced a polite tone, "is the Headmaster aware of your latest pet? I only ask because possession of a Dragon without a permit and appropriate habitat is a Class 5 offence, punishable by a huge fine and time in Azkaban."
Hagrid continued avoiding their eyes.
Harry sighed and stood up, moving next to the huge man and placing a hand on his arm.
"Hagrid, when we first met, you told me you'd always wanted a dragon. I know you know all about them, so tell me, is this an appropriate place for a young dragon to grow? Will it learn what it needs in order to be a proper dragon?"
Hagrid's shoulders drooped slightly.
"But, what if the other dragons are mean to him? Poor Norbert's so little." He pulled a massive spotted handkerchief from his pocket and wiped at his eyes, mopping up the huge fat tears beading on his lashes.
"If he grows up away from other dragons then they probably will," commented Draco. "But he's young enough that if you get him to the reserve quickly then they'll be able to foster him. The other dragons will see him as abandoned or orphaned and adopt him. But you were the first thing he saw when he hatched. Even if he gets fostered, he'll always remember you. You'll always be his Mummy."
Harry glanced at Draco with wide eyes, and had to fight down a snort at the almost pained control the blond had of his expression. He looked like he was trying to smile politely through a rather intense bout of constipation.
"Don't worry, Hagrid," Harry patted his arm. "We'll arrange everything, you just focus on enjoying your time with him. Just make sure you keep up with your other duties. You don't want anyone getting suspicious and finding him before we can get him safe."
Hagrid nodded with a watery smile.
"Yer a good lad, Harry. Thanks, all of yeh."
The boys smiled and took their leave, walking quietly back to the castle before splitting off, the twins hurrying away to send the fastest owl they could borrow to their brother.
Harry and Draco made their way to Harry's office, and settled themselves in the leather chairs.
"How in Merlin's name did he get hold of a dragon egg?" Draco asked, overwhelmed. "It's not the sort of thing a person carries around in their pocket."
"That's the question, isn't it," Harry sighed. He picked up a piece of parchment covered in spidery scrawl, and skimmed it before blinking and reading it again more closely. "I think we might have an answer though," he huffed in amusement.
Draco raised an eyebrow.
"Snape dropped by while we were out, and left a list of the obstacles our esteemed Headmaster thought sufficient to protect the object that I've already taken."
Draco snorted at that.
"Seriously?"
"Yeah," Harry smirked. "Given the lack of frantic activity, I'd say he hasn't even noticed yet."
Draco shook his head, amused.
"So what does that have to do with a dragon egg? Pretty sure the Headmaster isn't quite senile enough to think a baby dragon will guard something. They don't start that sort of thing until they're at least fifty years old and ready to start trying to win a mate."
Harry handed over the paper, and waited patiently while the other boy read the list.
"I don't see how any of this relates to Hagrid getting an egg?"
"Draco, he said he won the egg from a random man in a pub, by winning a game of poker."
"So? Maybe the guy wanted to pass on the egg before he got arrested?"
"No," Harry kept careful rein on his patience, not letting any of his exasperation creep into his tone. "There's no way on earth that Hagrid would win a game of poker; but he'll talk your ear off about creatures if you let him."
Draco frowned, and looked at the list again.
"The Cerberus?"
"Exactly," Harry smiled approvingly. "If there's a Cerberus in the castle, you can be certain that it was probably obtained from Hagrid, and if not then he will still be the one responsible for caring for it. If you wanted to get past it, he'd be the one to butter up, especially since he'll tell you anything you want to know if you look interested and sit still long enough."
Draco's mouth dropped into a small 'oh' of realisation.
"So someone wants the whatever-it-is, doesn't know it's gone, and is fishing for information?"
"Probably," Harry nodded. "It also explains the troll on Halloween, given that there's one on the list as well. It probably got out of its containment, or more likely was set loose as a distraction. Which in itself narrows the list of possible suspects quite considerably."
"So, do we care about this at all?"
"Not really, as long as it doesn't affect me or any of mine," Harry admitted. "Spread the word that we don't care, and to stay out of the way."
"Will do. On a different topic, how's Blaise going with Connor? And I've noticed you seem more lively, has your sleeping problem been sorted, or did you just get better drugs?"
Harry smiled faintly.
"Better than expected. They're getting along well, and Blaise seems to be taking the responsibility seriously. Assuming nothing goes wrong between now and the end of the year, I'll set the two of you up to be mentored and trained by Alex. I'll put Greg and Vince under Sergei; the twins will go under Shot."
"What about Hermione?" Draco asked, chewing his lip thoughtfully. "She's still very rule bound, but she's a monster at research."
Harry hummed noncommittally.
"I'm not sure. Shot would probably be a good option, but Hermione isn't so great at thinking outside of the box. I don't want to waste Shot's time."
Draco hummed, thinking quietly.
"You could cross train her? Have Shot help her with researching skills, but have Marcel or Bradshaw handle the rest of it?"
"I don't know. I'll think about it later, there's no hurry." Harry ran a hand through his hair, tugging the hair tie free, and quickly retied the silky waves back into a tidy ponytail at the base of his neck. "How are the study guides progressing?"
"We've compiled most of the raw data," Draco sighed. "We've gathered everything for all seven years, and I've roped in a couple of the more enthusiastic Ravenclaw first years and a couple of Hufflepuff second years to help with collating it all. All going to plan we should have them ready to distribute to our group by the end of next week. Hermione got recommended reading lists from all the professors that we currently have, and we paid Percy Weasley to get the same from all the other teachers. I thought that when we're ready to start selling the guides, we could offer a second bundle of the recommended books separately. And maybe a self-testing package? That one was actually Hermione's idea," he admitted grudgingly, "though she wanted to include everything as a single package. But we would make more money if they were sold separately, and they'll look more affordable if they're sold in parts."
Harry nodded.
"I like it. What price were you thinking?"
"I thought we could start with two sickles for the basic package containing the guide and list of recommended other texts, one sickle for the quiz package, and the book bundle would depend on how much the books themselves cost. We'd need to contact the publishers and get permission and stock, but we should be able to negotiate some kind of bulk deal. I estimate somewhere between two to eight galleons. And for third years and above we can offer subject specific bundles as well. We would price them a bit lower, obviously, but let's face it, with your name on the packet, it's going to fly off the shelves. It's really just a matter of PR at this stage."
Harry smiled, pleased. Draco may not be the best at identifying patterns the way Harry was, but he had an excellent nose for business, no doubt as a result of hands on tutoring from the elder Malfoy since before he was out of nappies.
"Alright, sounds good. We could maybe offer a discount if all three packages are bought together? Talk to Alex and Bradshaw, I'll sign off on whatever you agree on. Make sure all the copyright and royalties are sorted though, I don't want any contention later from people claiming to have contributed the material."
"Yes, sir," Draco smiled. "So, back to the earlier topic. Do I get to know what the mysterious object was?"
"Client confidentiality, I'm afraid," Harry responded blandly.
Draco pouted, huffing. He knew better than to push, but he couldn't help but be curious. His life had been so exciting since Harry became a regular part of it.
"So what else do we need to go over?" He asked instead.
Harry hummed, rifling through a few papers.
"Nothing major. You've been giving me regular reports on the network we're building here at Hogwarts, and I'm pleased with your progress. We've been over the study guides," he pursed his lips as he thought. "Hm. How are you going with your sleep? Are you getting enough? I know I'm keeping you busy, but I don't want you becoming addicted to the stimulant I gave you."
Draco winced.
"Erm, I'm coping, I guess? It's not easy, and I don't use the potion often, but I'm getting a bit tired. I've started using Pepper Up potions most mornings so I don't take too much of your stuff."
Harry hummed, displeased. He jotted down a quick note asking Sergei to try to get his hands on more of the sleep rings. Ideally he'd either have Shot reverse engineer them, or gather enough to pass around to all his key people. Inadequate rest stunted performance after all, and he demanded his people be in peak condition. A quiet call to Jinky had the elf pop in to collect the note, and disappear to deliver it immediately.
"Was there anything else you wanted to discuss before we head out?"
Draco shook his head, standing and straightening his robes.
Harry followed, the spells Alex had insisted be woven into the fabric of his suits smoothing out any creases the moment he stood. He nodded a quick goodbye to Dierdre and the Baron as they left the office, the two old friends gossiping together like old women now that Dierdre was awake again. Harry privately thought that the Baron has missed his friend, and despite his habitual scowl, was enjoying filling her in on a few hundred years of castle gossip.
The boys made their leisurely way through the halls, their footsteps muffled by the charms that Sergei had demanded they keep on at all times, claiming that you never knew when a loud footfall might endanger your life, or worse, cause you to miss some juicy blackmail material. They chatted quietly as they walked, enjoying the time to relax as much as two children with their training ever allowed themselves to.
"Pureblood," Draco murmured at the wall, waiting patiently as the hidden door slid open, and entering before Harry. It was a habit Alex and Sergei had drilled into him (much to his father's displeasure), allowing him to bodily protect the other boy in the event someone got the suicidal idea to attack The-Boy-Who-Lived as he entered the room. So far nobody had been that stupid, but there was always a first time.
Warthog lifted her head from where she was monopolizing the warmth of the fire, and lazily watched them approach, the tip of her tail flicking slowly.
Harry greeted her with a smile, and removed his robes, leaving him in just a silk shirt and fitted trousers. Handing the robes to Blaise, who merely draped them neatly over the arm of his chair and went back to his book, Harry sank to the floor next to his familiar, digging his nails into her thick fur and scratching behind her ears.
Warthog's loud purring filled the room, and Harry's smile widened. The flood of warmth and pleasure the puma sent through the bond was enough to make him feel a little giddy, and he couldn't help but giggle slightly at the feeling.
The massive cat cracked open a blue eye, peering up at her human before she heaved herself partially upright, rubbing her face against Harry's and nearly knocking him over as she forced her affection on him, purring and chirping playfully.
"Ack! Alright, alright! Stop that, you overgrown housecat!" Harry protested, even as he giggled harder. A large paw swatting his shoulder was the response, and Warthog cheerfully ignored his increasingly breathless pleas to stop.
Their fun was interrupted by the nasal tones of Pansy Parkinson, as the girl squealed and rushed over to sit on the couch next to Draco.
Harry sighed, all good feeling draining away. Warthog huffed in agreement, and flopped down in front of the fire again, allowing Harry to seat himself with his back against her stomach and use her like a pillow.
"I really dislike that girl," Warthog commented. "She always smells too strongly of flowers, it makes me sneeze."
Harry hummed in agreement.
"Plus, she's been hanging around that rabbity one a lot recently. I haven't caught any of their conversations yet, but I will. With how much both of them dislike you, I'd be very surprised if they didn't team up to try something."
Well now, that was interesting, Harry thought, though hardly surprising. Warthog was right that it would be odd if the two didn't collaborate. Luckily he'd already managed to recruit Tracy Davis, Daphne Greengrass, and Millicent Bulstrode to his side. They had no interest in becoming part of his 'study group', but were more than happy to feed him information whenever they found an interesting titbit he might find use for. In return, he gave them protection from some of the older Slytherin boys who were eyeing them as potential brides, and leverage against their parents if any attempt was made at arranging a marriage for them to someone the girls disapproved of. He personally found the idea of an arranged marriage, and marriage contracts involving underaged children to be an appalling practice, but he was well aware that he wasn't in a position to do anything about it at this stage beyond what he was already doing. One day, though, he'd see about fixing that. After all, Dave would be so disappointed in him if he failed to protect the children simply because the violation was currently legal.
Shaking himself from his thoughts, he looked up to see Draco crowded against the arm of the couch while Parkinson cuddled up against his side, looking blissful as she rested her head on his chest. Draco did not seem to be feeling similar euphoria, if his increasingly panicked looks towards Harry were anything to judge by.
"You've been working so hard lately, I feel like I never see you," Parkinson cooed, peering up at the captive blond.
"Erm, yes," Draco stumbled, trying futilely to shift further away from the overly perfumed limpet. "I've been very busy. Studying. And things."
Harry snorted, shoulders shaking in silent laughter. He knew he shouldn't laugh, but he couldn't help it. Draco's expression was hilarious! The rest of the common room agreed, if the number of eyes on the couple were anything to judge by.
"Oh Dracie-poo, you're so dedicated! I love that about you!"
Dracie-poo, Harry mouthed, incredulous. His face was going red with the effort to control himself, and by the look of death Draco shot him, his struggles hadn't gone unnoticed.
"I hope our children have your work ethic," Parkinson sighed happily, snuggling closer to her captive. "I'm sure they'll be beautiful and smart!"
"Children?!" Draco gurgled, face contorting in horror. "What children?"
"Ours, silly!" Parkinson grinned, finally sitting up so she could look at the Malfoy heir properly. "My father is going to approach yours about a marriage contract! Isn't that great?"
Draco stared in horror, his brain barely comprehending the gleeful gushing coming from the girl's thin and fishlike lips.
"But, we're cousins? Way too closely related to get married!" He finally protested, cutting off the stream of what sounded like potential baby names.
Parkinson waved a hand dismissively, unconcerned.
"So? My family frequently marry closely. It makes it easier to make sure that the bloodlines are pure enough. Father says that the Malfoys used to have a similar practice, and it's only recently you started accepting other bloodlines into your family; but Father said that it's recent enough that we can overlook it. You're still pure enough, since all the outsiders you married into your family were purebloods too."
"There's no way my father will agree to a marriage contract between us!" Draco exclaimed, overwhelmed. "We stopped intermarrying because inbreeding caused all sorts of problems with the children! Why on earth would I agree to bring that tradition back when we've only just corrected the problems?"
"Well, my parents are half siblings, and there's nothing wrong with me!" Parkinson huffed, folding her arms across her chest and glaring angrily.
Draco took a deep breath and gently unfolded her arms, taking her hands in his and laying them on her lap. Looking her in the eye, he sighed lightly, brow furrowed.
"Pansy, you're my cousin. I've known you my entire life, and I do care about you. But I can't marry you."
"But why?" Parkinson whined, tearing up and clutching at Draco's hands desperately. "Like you said, we've known each other forever, we'd be a perfect couple!"
"Because if you were any more inbred, you'd be a sandwich," Draco stated bluntly.
There was a collective gasp from around the room, followed by cackles of laughter as the onlookers promptly abandoned any attempt to pretend they weren't watching the drama unfold. Two fifth years and a seventh year were howling with laugher, their faces buried in their arms on the table as they slapped the wood, crying and sobbing as they tried futilely to control their hysterical laughter.
Harry himself couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene in front of him, and wished desperately for a bowl of popcorn.
"Oh, snap," Warthog chortled.
Parkinson's jaw dropped unattractively, and she gaped, before yanking her hands free of Draco's grasp and lurching to her feet. She tried to speak, mouth opening and shutting a few times, before she reeled back and slapped the blond across the face with all the strength she could muster.
Draco's head snapped to the side from the force, and a brilliant red handprint bloomed almost immediately, the edges beginning to purple mere moments after.
The girl, so overwhelmed with rage, didn't even bother trying to speak again, merely storming off red faced to the girls dormitory, arms rigid and fists clenched tightly at her sides.
Blaise turned a page of his book, his attention never having visibly wavered from his reading, and crossed his legs with all the elegance that an eleven year old shouldn't have mastered yet.
"Amateur," he muttered.