"Well?"
"The outside experts that Black called in figured out the problem," Katalin replied. "Vitamin deficiency coupled with a mild disease - the draconic equivalent of scurvy while contracting the common cold. Either one by itself would have been simple to treat. Together, they were far more serious. "
"Have they fixed it?"
"We're in the process of solving the problem, but there have been some delays."
"What delays?"
"Well," Katalin sighed. "They want to use the services of a Potions Master of their choice, the keepers refuse to let the man anywhere near the dragons."
"Don't we have our own Potions Masters?" The other figure seemed amused, "why not use one of them?"
"None of them speak English fluently enough to feel confident that they won't make a mistake," Marosiné Varga Katalin shrugged. "They seem to speak it well enough to me but I guess that when you're dealing with medicines, you don't want to take chances."
"Didn't Black offer the services of one of his people?"
"Yes he did," she nodded. "But she's a bit . . . unstable, she was refused her master's certificate because she was considered too impulsive."
"That's the public reason," the other figure shrugged. "Have you found out the private reason?"
"I would suspect that it's because she likes to read muggle science books," Katlin smirked. "And the fact that she likes to create things that blend muggle technology and magic."
"I see," the other figure nodded. "A muggle born facing a panel of purebloods."
"No sir," she shook her head. "A pureblood facing a mixed panel, "mostly half bloods, some mixed bloods and three purebloods."
"Who all wanted to prove their social positions by being even snottier than they had to be." The dark figure nodded, "there is no snobbery worse than nouvelle rich snobbery."
"As you say," Katlin shrugged. "How do you want us to deal with this situation?"
"Use Black's Potions Mistress," the dark figure replied. "If she's good enough for him, then I suspect that she's the best. Have our Masters watch her work and if necessary, have her make something more difficult to show her skill. I want to repay both her and Black, and it strikes me that helping her get her long withheld master's papers is a good start."
"Yes Sir," Katlin nodded. "I'll make the arrangements immediately."
IIIIIIIIII
Harry appeared on the top of a hill and gazed into the valley. For a moment, he saw the place as it had been, and for a moment he saw the men of the Light Brigade charging into the Russian guns.
"The Charge of The Light Brigade, the Charge of the Heavy Brigade, and the Thin Red Line of Hero's." Harry spoke in a whisper, "they talked about you when I was younger. It was the only time I can remember them being harsh with Dudders. He said something bad about you and my Uncle threatened to give me half of the little whale's desert, didn't happen of course but even he respected your sacrifice."
Harry drew his sword and saluted, "I wish I had you helping me. I wish I had men even half as brave as you behind me when I fought in the cemetery. I'll try to be as brave as you, I promise that I'll honor your memory by facing my end with the same courage you met yours with."
Harry shuddered as his vision of the past became a bit too vivid, "and maybe after I . . . after things end. Maybe people will be able to talk about it the same way they talk about this. Maybe I'll stop being the 'Boy-Who-Lived' or the 'Boy-Who-Died.' Maybe I'll just be 'Harry,' the man who faced his end like a Trooper of the thirteenth."
Harry sheathed his sword, "it would be nice to have people respect me for something I actually did for a change, even if I'm not around to enjoy it. I suppose that if you have to die, it's better to die on your feet like a man than to run and try to avoid my fate." Harry shrugged, "not like running would do me any good anyway . . . two."
Harry arrived in front of a large open iron gate. Peering inside cautiously, he was startled by a greeting.
"Hello, come right in."
"Hello," Harry took a cautious step through the gate. "Who are you?"
"I'm Spencer Cummings," the man replied cheerfully. "Welcome to the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary."
"Thank you," Harry stepped in. "Has Charlie gotten back from Hungary yet?"
"Not yet," the man shook his head. "But I can take a message if you like?"
"No thanks," Harry allowed himself to relax. "I was just wondering if they had solved the problem yet."
"Not to the best of my knowledge," Spencer shrugged. "But I'm sure that they'll have it wrapped up in no time, sign the guest book and I'll give you the tour. This is my first year at the sanctuary and I haven't given any tours before, so you'll be my first."
"Alright," Harry agreed, signing the book. "Let's go."
The two of them spent several minutes walking through the sanctuary and Spencer was obviously enjoying his time as a guide.
"That over there is the Dragon that Harry Potter faced in the Third task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament," Spencer pointed to the indicated dragon with a smile on his face. "Feel a bit sorry for the beast, having to go against 'The-Boy-Who-Lived' there was no way it could win."
"Didn't believe the rumors that he was a glory hound, or a dangerous lunatic huh?" Harry fought to keep the annoyance off his face.
"Course not," Spencer shook his head. "Sides, Charlie knows him and says that he's a very modest boy. He won't hear of anyone speaking out against him, and neither will I."
"That's rather refreshing," Harry muttered. "What about that dragon? Why does he look so depressed."
"Well . . ." The indicated dragon's head shot up and it began running towards Harry and Spencer, "run."
"Wait," Harry stood perfectly still. "Running from a large predator is never a good idea."
Spencer ignored the advice and took off as fast as his legs could carry him.
The Dragon stopped just before it was about to trample Harry and lowered its snout to get a good whiff of his hair.
"Norbert?" Harry reached up to pet the dragon's snout. "You've grown, it's good to see you again."
The dragon gave a contented sigh and laid down, allowing itself to be petted.
"I take it that Hagrid hasn't visited for a while?" Harry scratched the dragon under the chin, "and I guess that you've been lonely."
Norbert gave another contented purr, "I'll tell Charlie to have Hagrid visit you. Harry promised, "It might be a good idea to have him leave something with a bit of his scent too."
Harry had to spend about two hours petting and playing with the lonely dragon before it was willing to let him out of its sight. "Don't worry Norbert, I'll see what I can do to make sure you get visited more often."
"You . . . you're alive?" Spencer's eyes were the size of basketball hoops when he saw Harry's return, "I was just calling in reinforcements to go recover your body."
"Well . . ." Harry's reply was cut off by the arrival of a dozen heavily armed men.
"Where's this tourist we gotta recover?" A woman with several visible burns and scars asked with a frown, "and what were you doing giving a tour without supervision?"
"I'm right here," Harry spoke up. "So you don't have to bother going out after me."
"Fought 'im off yourself?" The woman nodded, "not many people can fight a dragon without backup."
"I didn't fight him," Harry shook his head. "I . . ."
"Hid from 'im then," one of the men asked. "Sensible, much more intelligent than most. Too afraid of being called a coward."
"I didn't hide from him," Harry shook his head again. "I . . ."
"Musta distracted 'im somehow and made your escape." Another of the men nodded, "another good strategy."
"I played with him," Harry was tired of being interrupted. "And petted him, he wasn't trying to hurt me, he was lonely."
"Lonely?" The tough looking woman asked incredulously.
"Yes, lonely." Harry confirmed. "Tell Charlie to get Hagrid to visit his baby more often, Norbert is lonely and he just wants to play . . . three." Tired of talking to such rude people, Harry activated his portkey and left.
"Played wid 'im?" One of the tough looking men shook his head in wonder, we gotta give this guy a job. "He'd fit right in, what's 'is name Spence?"
"I'm not sure," the man smiled nervously. "Let me check my guest book."
"Check it then," the woman nodded. "Any man brave enough to stand up to a charging dragon and nuts enough to pet and play with it has a place on my team."
"It says here his name is . . . oh dear."
"Let me see that," one of the men grabbed the book. "Says 'ere that 'is name is . . . Mr. Black."
"I thought he was a myth?" The woman shook her head, "something that the Quibbler dreamed up to sell more papers."
"E's real." One of the men confirmed, "got a brother in law in law enforcement. From the way 'e talks, the Quibbler doesn't even tell you half of what the guy does."
"No wonder he wasn't worried about the dragon," Spencer's voice was filled with awe. "Even if he couldn't have charmed it, it didn't pose any danger to him."
"I'm back," Charlie entered. "What'd I miss?"
"Quite a bit," the scarred woman looked at Charlie with a shell shocked expression. "Who's your friend?"
"This is Hagrid," Charlie introduced the giant man. "I was hoping to . . ."
"Mr. Black says that Hagrid needs to visit his baby more often," the woman interrupted. "He's getting lonely."
"Ah knew it," enormous tears threatened to leak from the corners of Hagrid's eyes. "Where is he? Where's my little Norbert?"
"Spencer will take you to go see him," the woman's expression didn't change. "And I'm going to go get drunk . . . very drunk."
"Ah'm cummin too." One of the men agreed.
"Me too," another agreed.
"After what A' saw ta'day, Ah don't think Ah'm ever gonna be sober again."
"Won't someone please tell me what's going on?" Charlie demanded.
IIIIIIIIII
"Congratulations, um . . . Henchgirl." The chief of Hungary's Potions Mastery board smiled, "we have found that your work more than entitles you to recognition as a full Master."
"I'm honored," Henchgirl wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "Thank you."
"Before you go," another member of the panel stopped her. "Would you mind telling us why you're called Henchgirl?"
"Because I'm the Professor's Hench," Henchgirl shrugged. "I know that Henchman or Henchmen is more traditional, but I'm a girl."
"Yes, well . . . you won't have to be a hench anymore." The man replied with a smile, "you're a full Master now."
"No," Henchgirl shook her head. "I'll still be a hench."
"Why?" One of the female members of the board looked to be working herself into a rage. "Is it because you're a woman?"
"No," Henchgirl shook her head. "It's because I lost the coin toss."
"Coin toss?" The woman replied dumbly.
"Yes," Henchgirl frowned. "I picked heads and the Professor picked tails and won, it's not fair. He looks more like a proper hench than I do as short as he is, granted he doesn't have a hump but I'm sure that we could think of something."
"How did losing a coin toss make you a hench?" The woman had an odd look on her face.
"Well," Henchgirl replied. "There can only be one Professor or Doctor, and they usually have a loyal hench. We both wanted to be the professor so I proposed a coin toss, he won. Shudda picked rock paper scissors, he always picks rock."
"Yes well . . ."
"Congratulations Henchgirl," the Professor interrupted with his loud entrance. "I knew you could do it."
"See," Henchgirl pointed. "I told you he fits the part better than I can."
"Yes well . . ."
"Let's be off," the Professor smiled. "We have to get back to our laboratory."
"I want to pick up a few things first." Henchgirl disagreed.
"Laboratory"
"Shopping"
"Laboratory"
"Shopping"
"Laboratory"
"Shopping"
"Laboratory"
"Shopping"
"Laboratory"
"Shopping"
"Laboratory"
"Shopping"
"Laboratory"
"Shopp . . . Rock, Paper, Scissors."
"Deal," the Professor nodded. Good old rock, nothing beats rock.
"Hah," Henchgirl cried in triumph. "Paper covers rock, I win."
"That makes no sense," the Professor whined. "Why doesn't rock grind paper into nothingness?"
"I don't make the rules," Henchgirl shrugged. "But you WILL follow them."
"Fine," the Professor pouted.
"Bye all," Henchgirl waved cheerfully. "Thanks for the mastery."
IIIIIIIIII
Three days later
"I figured out what the message meant," Moody shook his head in disgust. "Took me three days, but I figured out what it meant. Now I want to know how he knew that Albus 'read' 'Playwizard' enough that he was able to recognise the measurements so fast."
"I told you, I like the articles." Dumbledore protested, "I only recognised the measurements because . . . "
"Albus's obsession with pornography is not the issue here," McGonagall interrupted before the Headmaster could think of an excuse. "What did you figure out Madeye?"
"I had Tonks do some checking," Moody leered.
"Well," Tonks smiled. "I pretended to be interested in writing an article on 'How to Cook the Best Hams' to get in, some snooping revealed that the current centerfold had been arrested by the Americans for being a Polyjuced Deatheater."
"Black gave us all the info we needed," Moody gave an annoyed frown that scared half the room. "And we thought that he was pulling some sort of prank."
IIIIIIIIII
"Master," Wormtail shuddered. "I have some bad news and some humorous news."
"What's the humorous news?" The Dark Lord hissed."
"Our spy at the Ministry tells us that Dumbledore is obsessed with Pornography."
"Hehehehehehehe," the Dark Lord gave his first non-evil laugh in years. "And the bad news?"
"Mr. Black knew about our plot with the Playwizard centerfold," Wormtail shuddered. "And warned the Order."
"Wormtail," the Dark Lord said calmly. "CRUCIO."
IIIIIIIIII
The Quibbler
by Ms. E
A series of unfortunate events. That is the best way to describe the fates of several groups of Death Eaters that were dispatched to Austria by the Dark Lord to kill Mr. Black. "We found the first group on some train tracks (Editors Note: Like the Hogwarts Express) and they weren't in very good shape." Reported a Senior Anonymous Source in Magical Law Enforcement, "looked like Black was still a bit angry about what happened in Germany." (See a recap of the Bloodbath in Germany on page A2) This was the first but by no means the last group of Death Eaters found killed in a horribly brutal way . . .
. . . perhaps the most famous of Mr. Black's victims were the infamous Lestranges. "Had to clean them up with a mop." Our source in the coroner's office went on to add, "I don't know what they did to annoy him. But after seeing what he did to them, I would suggest suicide to anyone that angers Mr. Black."
Mr. Black Can Speak to Dragons?
by Someone other than Luna Lovegood
Mr. Black stunned the world yesterday with the first recorded taming of a Dragon. The dragon named Norbert is living in the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary, handlers say that he is much more docile than most dragons . . .
. . . an Anonymous source in the sanctuary tells us that Mr. Black was able to communicate with the dragon and determine that its unhappiness was caused by loneliness . . .
. . . as regular readers will know, Mr. Black has in the past shown that he is a talented Cryptozoologist. His accomplishments include; being instrumental in curing what is now being called the Hungarian DragonBlight, the discovery of the Crumple . . .