Chapter Twenty-Six of 'Wolf's Choice'- Dragonfire

[lomonaaeren]

Chapter Twenty-Five.

Title: Wolf’s Choice (26/60)
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Pairing: Main story is gen, a few GoF canon pairings mentioned
Content Notes: AU of GoF, angst, gore, violence, torture, present tense, minor character death
Rating: PG-13
Summary: AU of GoF. Harry begins his summer with horrific visions that come true much faster than he was expecting. He’ll have to rely on his circle of friends, both his guardians, and all his allies to cope with the results.
Author’s Notes: This is a long fic that is a sequel to my fic Other People’s Choices. Make sure you read that first before you start this one.

Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter Twenty-Six—Dragonfire

The wash of heat over his head stuns Harry for a second, and makes him lie there gaping at the sky instead of trying to stand up. Then he rolls sharply to the side and scrambles to his feet.

Because he can, now. The control that Greyback was using to make him come there through the scars is gone.

Harry turns his head and sees Chaos rearing on her hind legs, keeping up the steady stream of fire across the charred, unmoving body in front of her. It has—it doesn’t have any face anymore. Just some steaming flesh.

Harry gulps and grabs Chaos back when she opens her mouth as if she’s trying to get more flames out to cook Greyback’s fingers and legs. “That’s enough, Chaos,” he whispers. His voice is hoarse, but he doesn’t know if that’s because of the heat or his fear or he just swallowed some smoke. “He’s—he’s done.”

Chaos sits back on her haunches and regards him calmly, as if he’s a particularly stupid mother dragon. The impression that knocks on Harry’s mind is that of ground suddenly giving way under his feet. Chaos wants to cook Greyback so that there’s no way he can ever be a threat again.

Harry swallows. “I know, but we have to go get someone so they can see to him.”

“No need for that, Mr. Potter.” Professor Snape is right behind them, his face so pale that Harry thinks he’d blend right in with the ghosts if they were outside. He bends down and casts a charm. A dull red glow rises from Greyback’s chest. Harry doesn’t know what that means. Is there a special charm to point out when someone is dead from dragonfire?

If so, Charlie probably knows it, Harry thinks. He wants to giggle. He closes his eyes and rubs Chaos’s horns instead. He can feel the shock crashing through his body, something he had no time to feel before.

“Are you all right, Harry?”

“I—I think so,” Harry says, and for a second, he leans against Professor Snape and lets himself shiver. Then he hears other voices, and starts back and away. He thinks that Professor Snape looks disappointed, but he can’t let himself be too weak. He turns around, and hopes that he’ll look calm and collected standing there with his hand on Chaos, instead of like he’s using her to hold himself up.

Theo is running towards him, his eyes so wide that Harry thinks it’s the first time he’s ever seen him really scared. Behind him are Ron and Hermione and Draco and Blaise, and then Dumbledore, walking slowly. He’s looking at Greyback, not Harry.

Harry tightens his shoulders. He thinks he knows what Dumbledore is going to say before he even says it. But he tries to ignore it for now, and just nods to Theo and accepts the clap on his shoulder.

Hermione doesn’t bother with holding back, and flings her arms around him. “Oh, Harry! We thought you might be dead!”

Harry pats her back and catches Ron’s eye. Usually Hermione is more dramatic than Ron, but his face is bright white, too, with freckles like spots of blood. Harry blinks and reaches out his hand.

“I’m all right,” he manages to say, before Dumbledore clears his throat and steps forwards with a long stride.

“I regret to tell you that this is precisely the sort of accident I’ve been trying to prevent, Harry,” he says, with a sad shake of his head.

“You could have fooled me,” Professor Snape says, and it feels like every muscle in Harry’s body has tensed and tightened. He never thought he would hear Professor Snape say something like that, at least in public. “Given that you refused to allow the protections that would have prevented werewolves from entering the grounds.”

Dumbledore sighs. “They would have negatively affected Mr. Lupin. And possibly Mr. Potter, as well.”

Harry lets go of Hermione, because he knows his arms are going to get so tight he’ll hurt her otherwise. He looks evenly at Dumbledore, but he can tell from his own bobbing throat that he’s not controlling his emotions well. “I’m not a werewolf, sir.”

“But you ran out here as though you were. And you were acting strangely at breakfast.” Dumbledore sighs again and turns to look at Greyback’s steaming body as though he doesn’t want to. “And now you have killed like one, Harry.”

Harry just stares. He knew Dumbledore was going to blame him and try to find a way to get rid of Chaos, but he never knew it would sound like that. His throat is all tight, and his eyes are prickly and hot, even though it doesn’t really feel like he’s going to cry.

“That’s ridiculous!”

Hermione is the one blowing up at Dumbledore, of course, her arms folded and her hands twitching like she wants to go for her wand. But she might not even need it, with the way that the air around her is sparking the way it does before she tries to cast wandless magic. Harry tries to shake his head and catch her eye, but Hermione refuses to look away from Dumbledore.

“You know that Harry isn’t a werewolf! You know that burning someone to death isn’t the way a werewolf kills! Chaos only defended him in the first place because you let Greyback onto the grounds!”

“Miss Granger.” Dumbledore somehow manages to make himself look even taller as he peers down at her. “That is a serious accusation, one that I would thank you not to repeat. In the meantime, I do have to have a talk with Harry about sending his dragon away.”

Chaos hisses, a wash of white comes over Harry’s vision, and Professor Snape puts a hand on his shoulder. Harry knows that he shouldn’t step in, that it will make things worse if he does, but he can’t just sit back and let Dumbledore talk about taking Chaos away, either.

“I think everyone’s reacting a little too hastily.”

Harry whips his head around, eyes narrowed, because he fucking told Blaise—

Blaise produces a sharp smile and just nods when people gape at him. The thing is, Harry’s pretty sure that he’s not using his mother’s creepy Gift. He got everyone’s attention by daring to speak up when no one else would have, and Dumbledore doesn’t have the same problem with him that he does with Hermione.

“Harry, why did you come out here in the first place?” Blaise asks in a calm voice, facing him. “It seemed strange for you to run from Professor Snape when he was trying to help you.”

“The pain in the scars made me think that I had to soothe my face in the lake,” Harry answers. Then he pauses and reaches up. The scars are still there, rough skin under his hand, but the pain is gone.

“Huh.”

Professor Snape moves around in front of him, ignoring the way that Dumbledore was starting to say something. “What is it?” His hand hovers above the scars, but doesn’t touch them. Harry can understand why, after the way he reacted to the potion earlier.

“The pain in my scars—is gone.” Harry’s eyes dart to Greyback’s roasted body, then away. He can accept that Greyback is dead, but it’s still hard to look at. “I think he was using them to manipulate me away from everyone and make me come out here so he could reach me. But now he’s dead, so that’s gone.”

“You should not rejoice in someone else’s death, Harry.” Dumbledore sounds desperately sad.

Harry just glares at him. He’s not going to say anything, even though Professor Snape and Healer Lyndell would probably want him to, but what he’s thinking is, I’m not rejoicing in someone else’s death, I’m just happy that I’m safe!

Theo is the one who speaks up, his voice as smooth as the butter the house-elves put on the Slytherin table. “Of course you wouldn’t want someone to rejoice in a death, Headmaster. But Greyback was someone who tortured and terrorized countless people. I know that Harry won’t be the only one who’s happy to hear that he’s dead.”

Dumbledore shakes his head slowly. “Is it worth that happiness to have committed murder at age fourteen, Harry? Is it worth it to know that you may face Azkaban and have your dragon taken away?”

“You wanted me to commit murder at age seventeen, or whenever you actually thought I’d be ready to face Voldemort!” Harry yells, and Dumbledore stares at him in utter surprise. “You always meant me to face him! If I wasn’t going to fall dead, then I’d have to kill him, right? Don’t pretend it’s going to be some peaceful resolution when he’ll never stop hunting me!”

Dumbledore fumbles for his glasses, looking as flummoxed as Harry has ever seen him. “I—that is to say, a death in battle is very different from a death by dragonfire—”

Harry just glares at him some more and doesn’t say anything. He would yell a lot worse things if he did.

“This is a very disturbing death,” Dumbledore finally whispers, and he looks weary, as if he was the one who got controlled by Greyback and made to run out of the school. “I never imagined—if I had had any idea that your dragon was mature enough to breathe fire like that—”

“She shouldn’t be,” says Charlie’s brisk voice behind them, and Harry wants to sag in relief even though he knows that Charlie just being here doesn’t mean Chaos is out of trouble. “Can I talk to her, Harry?”

“You’ll have to ask her,” Harry says, and looks down at Chaos. She sits up on her haunches and stirs her wings. So far, she hasn’t managed anything like flight, but Charlie says that’s not unusual and he shouldn’t worry.

Chaos glances back and forth between him and Charlie. Her consideration presses like a wall against Harry’s mind for a moment. Then she lowers her head and walks slowly forwards, her tail swishing behind her.

“Thank you, Chaos.” Charlie bows to both of them, although Harry wants to tell him to keep it for the dragon, and then he kneels down in front of her. His hands run gently along Chaos’s ribs, then the webs of her wings. They halt on her throat. Charlies frowns.

Dumbledore is about to say something, but Harry hates that frown, and he blurts out, “What is it? Has something changed?”

Charlie turns Chaos’s head, although she continues to glare him straight in the eye even as he manipulates her face around. “She has glands here that are usually found in much older dragonets, Harry. They release the kind of magic that makes her breath hot enough to kill instead of just threaten someone. Most of the time, dragonets don’t need to breathe like that because their mother kills their food for them. In fact, it would be better for them not to breathe like this at their clutchmates, because they’d kill them.”

“So what happened? What is—is she going to be okay?”

Professor Snape puts his hand on Harry’s shoulder. Harry tries his best to calm down. He must sound really worried if that’s happening.

“I think that it probably happened because she feels that you’re under threat,” Charlie says quietly, dropping his hands away from Chaos’s throat. Chaos promptly steps back towards Harry, moving with her neck craned back to keep one furious golden eye on Dumbledore. “She recognizes your differences from a dragon, even as she considers you her mother, and she feels that she needs to protect you. So the flame manifested early.”

“She is dangerous. She needs to be removed from the school grounds.”

Charlie actually turns to Dumbledore and laughs. “Go ahead and try it, Headmaster. If you think you can, then you’ll have invented a method Dragon-Keepers all over the world will want to learn.”

“It ought to be easy enough, with a dragon so small.”

Charlies shakes his head. “There’s a reason that it’s impossible to remove dragonets from their mother, most of the time. She’s bonded to them, the way Harry is bonded to Chaos. You can’t remove her without removing him.”

Harry lifts his head proudly when Dumbledore looks at him. He thinks that he knows what’s coming next, just like he knew what Dumbledore would say about Greyback’s death. He wonders fleetingly for a second if he’s becoming more political.

He wants to chortle when he thinks of that—because there are some people who would hate it—but he keeps quiet.

“I must ask that you allow me to ban Chaos, Harry. That you release the bond.”

“Why, though?” Harry counters. “She was defending me. I don’t know exactly what Greyback intended to do, but he obviously wasn’t about to invite me to Fortescue’s for an ice.”

Several muffled snickers sound behind him. Dumbledore’s eyes narrow a little. Harry wonders for a second why the joke offends him so much, but then he knows. Dumbledore won’t want to lose prestige in anyone’s eyes, even if those people are just some students who have way too much of a habit of following Harry around.

Yeah, I am becoming political.

“It is still murder,” Dumbledore says, heavy and thick as a thundercloud. “Do you know what happens when you murder someone, Harry?”

“Someone dies.”

“If you will be serious, Mr. Potter. It means that you have split your soul. Voldemort’s soul is partially as tattered as it is because he has committed so many murders of innocents.” Dumbledore stares directly at Harry when he says that, in a way that Harry doesn’t really understand.

Harry only shrugs, though. “Technically, sir, Chaos murdered him, and not me. And I don’t think you can blame her any more than you could blame one of Hagrid’s hippogriffs for defending him. She’s an animal. She doesn’t understand the same rules and morals that humans do.”

“She certainly doesn’t,” Charlie mutters.

“But you must see how dangerous she is to the student population, then, Harry. What happens if she takes it into her head to murder someone else?”

“Tell the other students not to threaten me, and she really shouldn’t need to do that, though, sir.”

Dumbledore’s eyes linger on Harry’s face for a moment. “I don’t think it’s fair to ask the students not to make any threatening moves, however. There are some who will have understandable phobias of werewolves. There are others who might simply joke about hexing you, and your dragon will react.”

“She hasn’t so far,” Harry says. “This was really different, sir. And if you expel her, then you have to expel me, too, just like Charlie says.”

“You could release the bond, Mr. Potter.”

“You mean—orphan her? But that would be really cruel, sir.”

Harry feels as though someone has punched him. Isn’t that basically what happened to him? And maybe what Dumbledore is suggesting is like leaving Harry on the Dursleys’ doorstep. Harry reaches over and curls his hand around the back of Chaos’s neck, soothing the rumble that was pouring up her throat.

“No, sorry, sir. I can’t do that. I would never abandon you,” he adds to Chaos in Parseltongue, just because he thinks the sound of the hissing might reassure her.

Chaos rears up on her haunches, and Harry tenses. But it’s only to nuzzle him, not to unleash a stream of fire at someone else. Harry bends down and hugs her shakily. It’s finally hitting him, the sheer shock of seeing Greyback die. He hopes that none of his other friends were close enough behind him to actually see it.

“We will be speaking of this further, Mr. Potter.”

“If you think that’s best,” Harry says, and utterly ignores the disapproving look Dumbledore gives him, in favor of marching back towards the school with Chaos next to him. He honestly doesn’t care what happens to Greyback’s body, although he thinks maybe they’re going to call the Aurors and he’ll probably have to testify. Right now, he just wants to sit down and try to absorb what happened.

It occurs to him that most of the people who were by the lake are following him instead of Dumbledore, but that’s another consequence that he’ll think about in the morning.

*

Severus wonders if it is possible to at once blaze with pride in his ward and want to wrap him in a mobile Shield Charm for the rest of his life.

Harry handled that with far more emotion and grace than the repressed anger and simmering exhaustion he’s been showing for the past fortnight. He replied in a way that asserted where he stood but also couldn’t be mistaken for a threat (although Severus knows Albus will try his best to spin it that way). He is free of the control that Greyback was apparently able to wield through the scars—something Severus will be investigating—and he has the support of a Dragon-Keeper in maintaining his bond with his dragonet.

And Severus is not blind, although he thinks that Albus might be, right now, in his disgust over the way Greyback died. Granger, Nott, and Zabini might be the ones that spoke up, but they are not the only ones bound up in what happened. The others watched Harry. They are following him now. They visibly, if not vocally, chose him over Albus.

Severus is seeing the beginnings of a force that might truly be able to set Hogwarts free of Albus’s stranglehold.

And it is a magnificent thing to witness.