Harry Potter and the Last Dragon

Chapter 1

Midnight Alarms and Pleasures

It was a silent summer night. The moon shined brightly, the easy breeze rustled with leaves of the trees. Privet Drive was plunged into a deep quiet darkness. Only in the house number four on the second floor the window was open. Near the window sat a teenage boy, whose name is known to each wizard.

Another academic year - the sixth from the beginning but harder than all previous, there was an almost casual meeting with Voldemort, which had not finished by tragedy but by a miracle and now everything was in the past. Now Harry Potter sat with nothing to do. Tomorrow he'd have his birthday but he was absolutely alone in the world. Not even the Dursleys were there. That was good but... After three weeks of loneliness the pleasure began to weaken. It was more cheerful when someone was around.

Uncle Vernon had begun capital reconstruction of his factory, therefore he had sent Dudley and Aunt Petunia to Spain for a month and plunged himself into work. Harry tried to stay out of his uncle's way because he was in silent fury from daily scandals with builders. Sometimes he didn't come home from factory at all, spending the night in his cabinet. Here and now, Harry was absolutely alone in the whole house.

A big bird flew along the window. Just a shadow in the moonlight but a trained eye could at once recognize that it was an owl. It was flying to the house at the end of the street. That meant Arabella Figg had returned.

Since childhood Harry had known this elderly woman. The Dursleys always left him with her when they went somewhere. And only two years ago, Harry found out that she had relations to the magic world. Though she was a Squib, she was charged by Professor Dumbledore to protect Harry from the ominous Lord Voldemort. Not such a big help in case of emergency but she even could give the alarm... But this summer, she constantly had been away, having appeared home only two times. And each time, as well as now, owls with messages were flying to her house.

Harry smiled to himself: for a long time Professor Dumbledore had had to fight against Lord Voldemort in the underground, hiding from Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic who didn't wish to admit the fact of Voldemort's return. And now, after Fudge admitted an inaccuracy of his policy and handed in his resignation, Professor Dumbledore became Minister of Magic. Harry knew that Dumbledore didn't want it, but the situation in the country was so intense that he had been compelled to accept it, with the condition that he'd remain the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Though even Dumbledore is not all-powerful: he couldn't jail Lucius Malfoy, who somehow (Harry suspected with help of gold and powerful friends) had been justified by magic court. Anyway, there was not a good enough prison now. Why Voldemort had decided to destroy Azkaban and how had he managed to do it - was still not clear, but the fact was: the well-known prison did not exist any more. Harry had a photo: the burnt piece of a rock in the middle of the sea - last part of the island. Voldemort's force was increasing too quickly. But the Death Eaters almost stopped to operate. Were they afraid of the Order of the Phoenix?

Another owl flew above the roof of the next building. Harry decided to visit Arabella Figg while she was still at home, but suddenly he heard the whirring of wings above his head and the big snowy owl flew through the window.

'Hedwig!' yelled Harry. 'Where have you been all this week?'

The owl landed before him. A small sack was attached to her leg. Harry removed Hedwig of her cargo and the owl pecked him tenderly on a cheek and flew outside, most likely, to hunt.

There was a newspaper cutting and a piece of parchment in the sack. Harry decided, at first, to read the newspaper. It was a small article which had been cut out from the "Daily Prophet".

FORCES OF EVIL INCREASE THEIR POWER

Yesterday there was a third case of an interception of a wizard during Apparition. This time the victim managed to escape, therefore we had an opportunity to find out how it has taken place.

According to the victim, he Apparated from London to Manchester, but unexpectedly came to be in an unknown wood in the middle of a group of wizards with masks on their faces and with wands aimed at him. Only his good reaction and excellent possession of Apparition skills rescued him. At the latest moment he transferred back to London. He thought that they were Death Eaters.

We turned for explanations to the Ministry of Magic, but didn't hear anything intelligible. We'll remind our readers, that until recently it was considered absolutely impossible to intercept a wizard during Apparition. Obviously, someone has discovered a way to make it possible.

Minister of Magic strongly recommends to all wizards to refrain from moving big distances. First of all, this concerns the Floo Network which is partly watched by Death Eaters. Secondly, we now know that Apparition has more potential danger than just splinching.

A unique safe means of transportation for long distances are portals, but unfortunately, not all wizards have opportunities and permissions for their manufacturing.

Disturbed with this article, Harry took the piece of parchment with the message.

Harry, I hope you have already read the article and understood it. I regret that I can't come by myself: I'm very busy with working for ... you know. I ask you: don't try to Apparate. Nobody can understand what's happening. Probably even moving on short distances can become dangerous. Remember that someone wouldn't refuse to catch you. The Floo Network is only completely supervised by us in the vicinity of London, so be careful.

I hope we'll meet soon.

Remus Lupin.

As usual! The whole magic world stands on its toes and he sits and knows nothing. And nobody will inform him of what's happening. Probably, they all are too busy, only Lupin is free to write letters.

And it was a big disappointment: only at the end of the academic year Harry had handed over the test for the right to Apparate and now this way of movement was closed for him. What now, go on foot all the time?

Harry didn't have time to cool down, as an unfamiliar grey owl dived into the room, threw something on the bed and, without landing, took off outside. Harry was very surprised: the last month he had received only two letters: one from Hermione who had gone with her parents to France again and the invitation for a visit from Ron. But now the second letter came within ten minutes.

Harry lifted the letter from his bed. Actually, it was only a piece of a newspaper; something was scratched on its side. The moonlight did not suffice to read flourishes and Harry switched on a lamp.

Dear Harry! Excuse the fact that I'm writing on what I've got, I've been called out urgently. As the Dursleys have gone and I can't stay with you, professor Dumbledore allowed you to spend the rest of the summer with the Weasleys. As far as I know, they already invited you. I hope we'll meet soon.

With some difficulties Harry made out the signature below the message: Arabella. Here is a gift! Now it would be possible not to be bored to loneliness.

Harry wanted to fly away right now, but thought that his Firebolt could get to the Weasley's house in less than an hour, so it could be possible to wait till morning and to not wake the Weasleys in the middle of the night. Without hurrying, Harry packed his school things, attached his trunk and Hedwig's cage to the broom and then for two hours he read Hogwarts: A History, for the first time in six years having taken the courage for this feat.

As soon as the sky began to brighten, Harry wrote a short note for Uncle Vernon, mounted the broom and took off through the window. He found the right way rather quickly and departed, trying to avoid places where he could be noticed. Harry hadn't risen in the air for so long, that he had already started to forget the pleasures of flying. Unfortunately, all good things come to their end very quickly and the roof of the Burrow - the Weasley's house, appeared too fast. Covered by slanting beams of the rising sun, the house seemed even more crooked than usual. There was a light in the windows of the ground floor: similar, Mr. Weasley was getting ready for work.

Harry landed near the entrance door and at once saw Mrs. Weasley leaving a hen-house with a punnet of eggs.

'Harry, dear!' she exclaimed in surprise and nearly dropped her punnet. 'How did you come to be here?'

'I've got permission to stay with you, Mrs. Weasley'.

'That's wonderful! And did your Uncle and Aunt have any objections?'

'I left them a note,' Harry smiled.

Mrs. Weasley frowned slightly, but immediately the wide smile reappeared on her face:

'Harry, it's your birthday today! How quickly time flies!'

She kissed Harry strongly.

'Come home, the children should be up already.'

She opened the door and invited Harry in the house.

'Are Fred and George here?' asked Harry, putting his things on the floor in the hall.

Mrs. Weasley shook her head.

'They live in London now, too busy with their magic jokes shop. You know, I don't approve of their choices. However, I'm glad that they have found work. Now they earn enough money for a living and I'm surprised that it's not as little as I thought. And where do they keep finding buyers?'

Mrs. Weasley led Harry to the kitchen and quickly prepared breakfast.

'Arthur was delayed for work, but he said that he'd return soon. Even on a rest day they can't leave him alone!' Mrs. Weasley was indignant. 'We are gathering in Diagon Alley today, so we'll look for your present. And Hermione needs some books...'

'Hermione?' asked Harry, 'is she here?'

'Didn't Ron wrote to you?' Mrs. Weasley was surprised. 'A week already... A...

At this moment something rumbled upstairs and Ron's indignant voice became heard:

'Another last gift from these two fools!'

Mrs. Weasley only sighed.

'What for this time?'

That was Ginny's voice already. The curiosity obvious.

'Nothing. Just a cracker. But they make me crazy!'

And again the thunder as something heavy crashed.

'And so every day' sighed Mrs. Weasley.

The ladder started to creak. Ron was slowly going down, pounding the elbow. Behind him Hermione and Ginny appeared, with visible efforts having constraining the laughter

'Why does this muck always hit only me?' muttered he and stopped, at last having see the guest.

'Harry?' And he rushed to him with a shout: 'Mate, you're with us again!'

After loud greetings they all settled around the table.

'And how come, dear, that you didn't find time to write me that you are already here?' Harry asked Hermione with forced politeness.

Having seen her confusion, Ron answered this question:

'We asked Professor Dumbledore and he told us that he would release you to us very soon. We thought that it'd be absolutely fast...'

'You aren't angry with us, Harry, are you?' asked Hermione in an apologizing tone.

Harry looked at their guilty faces... "Angry?" Maybe he was alone too much or the constant conversation with Dumbledore at last gave its result, but he felt that just can't say something rough if even he would want it.

'Certainly not!'

'That's fine,' summed up Mrs. Weasley.

***

After dinner when Mr. Weasley and the twins, Fred and George, came home, the Weasleys and Harry prepared for their journey to Diagon Alley. As Ginny hadn't yet passed Apparation tests, Floo powder was used. Harry didn't like it very much. But this time all travelling was safe.

Mrs. Weasley dragged her husband to the shop "Economical Magic"; Ron went the same way, to the Quidditch shop located in the neighbourhood. Suddenly Fred and George picked up Harry and removed him from the others.

'Harry, you'll go with us!' said Fred conspiratorially.

'Where to?'

'Today's your birthday, right? And we prepared a gift for you.'

'A gift? For me? What?'

'Let's go, see for yourself,' George smiled mysteriously.

Harry turned to the others: they stood near shop-window of a bookshop; Mrs. Weasley was admiring the newest culinary encyclopaedia.

'We can't take anybody else,' said Fred. 'They know nothing about our gift.'

'It's our surprise,' explained George.

The twins dragged Harry through the street. Between Madam Malkin's shop and a small shop of magic utensils, Fred knocked a wall with his wand and silently made some spell. A narrow corridor opened between houses. The twins quickly dragged Harry there, and then the pass closed.

'Lumos', whispered George and a small fire appeared on the end of his wand. It illuminated a gloomy tunnel bending somewhere sideways.

'What is this place?' asked Harry.

'Well, in general, it's a secret pass between streets,' answered George modestly. 'Fred and I found it casually.'

'Casually?' Harry didn't believe them.

'Of course, casually -' began Fred.

'- we found five Galleons in our pockets,' continued George, 'and that antique man who needed money, we met casually too -'

'And I thought,' said Harry, 'that you'd found something like the Marauder's Map again.'

'Nope, Diagon Alley has much less secret passages than Hogwarts,' said Fred, 'and they are dangerous. You never know what evil spirits can be found here.'

'However, this pass has saved our lives once,' continued George, 'when we escaped from the anger of one of our customers.'

'And what had happened?' asked Harry interestedly.

'Once a respectable lady had come to our shop -' began George.

'- she, probably, hadn't read the signboard,' interrupted Fred. 'And bought some "Antarctic" toffees -'

'And what next?' asked Harry.

'Well, and in the middle of the street she turned into a penguin...'

'All right, time to go,' interrupted George. 'We'd better return before the others become tired from looking for us. Hold your wands on call.'

They went through the tunnel. Some minutes later a brick wall partitioned off the way. Fred touched it with his wand and the wall melted.

A narrow dark street opened to Harry's look and was strangely familiar to him.

'This is Knockturn Alley, yes?' asked Harry. 'Dangerous place...'

'We know,' answered Fred. 'But we had no choice. The master, who we needed, is a strange old man. Prefers to live here though he's not a Dark wizard. He says it's quieter here.'

They passed by little shops with some mucks and stopped near an ordinary-looking two-storied house. George knocked. On the second floor a window opened, someone looked out, examined the small company and disappeared. A minute later the lock clicked and the door opened.

In front of them there was a tall old man with a white tousled beard and gloomy face. Without a word, he passed to a room and returned soon with a long thing wrapped in paper. Having given it to Harry, he moved off.

'Well, Harry, it's our gift. Open it,' said George.

Harry unrolled the brown paper.

'Wow!' he could only say.

In his hands was a racing broom. He'd never seen such a broom before. The dark grey handle was polished up to shine, on its end in gold the name of the broom - "Thunder-storm". The black rods were perfectly equal and the main thing, for some reason, gleamed gold. The broom was beautiful, though it was very unusual. Harry somehow had not paid attention at first that the broom weighed almost nothing. More precisely, he didn't feel its weight at all. Harry looked at the old man in surprise.

'Happy that you like it, Harry Potter,' said the old man. So strange was his voice - silent, almost a whisper, but you could hear everything very well. 'You have very good friends. They've chosen the best broom in the world, my masterpiece. After this no more brooms, I'm too old for it...'

Pause.

'...Now to business. Such a broom is unique in the world; another does not exist in the present and will not be in the future. I worked on it for five years. There were many problems, but I've proved... Nothing. I see you paid attention to the handle. It is much more complex than it seems at first sight. Brooms' handles are usually made from an integral piece of wood, but here... Ten layers from the most different breeds of wood are stuck together by heavy-duty glue. I've made it on a basis of Muggle synthetic glue, having applied some magic. Yes, yes, be not surprised,' he burst out laughing, noticing Harry's and the twins' amazed sights, 'I am, contrary to many of my colleagues, watching closely for the last Muggle inventions and quite often use them.'

'Returning to the broom. The multilayered design provides a significant increase of speed. The handle is covered with a dragon skin with twisted in it strings of Kevlar. From it Muggles make bullet proof vests. Therefore, to break the handle of this broom is practically impossible.'

'Let's move further. Harry Potter, you've already paid attention to the weightlessness of the broom. It's especially bewitched to completely counterbalance its' weight. Let go off it and it'll stay in the air. And because of the dragon skin on the handle, this hex is impossible to destroy, only when destroying the broom. But the main highlight of the broom - the twigs. They are made from box-tree - an "iron tree". It's never used for brooms, because it's far too heavy. But I've solved this problem. Each twig has been drilled inside; a thin gold wire is inserted into the aperture. The same wires braid the twigs outside. It gives a huge increase of speed. To tell the truth,' the master grinned, 'gold possesses special magical properties; therefore nobody can make something similar. The broom has only one lack - on a big speed the broom leaves a golden trace behind itself. And it's better not to jinx the twigs - the broom can backfire.'

Something disturbed Harry. But he was not clear what exactly. Maybe he had to ask something... For a clear mind...

'And why do you always say simply "broom", instead of "Thunder-storm", sir?'

'Well, you see,' answered the master, '"Thunder-storm" is not the brand, it's the broom's own name.'

'Own name?' Harry was surprised.

'Certainly. The broom is accustomed to that, its' name can be called only by the owner. Remember, Harry, this broom is really magical; it has its own mind. It knows the owner and truly serves him. If it'll be taken without the permission by someone else, he'll regret about it.'

Harry reflected: an intelligent broom; moreover made by the master from Knockturn Alley... Nice gift? Nothing else to add...

The master removed Harry from his meditations:

'Time to hand over the broom to you, Harry Potter.'

He took the broom in his hands and said, addressing it:

'Well, "Thunder-storm", it's time to say goodbye. I pass you to your owner. His name is Harry Potter. Serve him faithfully.'

Tears appeared on his eyes, he quickly erased them.

'Now take it in your hands,' he said to Harry, 'and say: "My name is Harry Potter, I am your owner".'

As soon as Harry took the broom and said these words, he felt that the broom became warmer and trembled slightly. The master smiled.

'You're liked by it. I think you'll be friends.' He spoke about the broom as about a child. 'Now about what the broom can do. It can define the quarters of the world so a compass isn't necessary; it can fly in the set direction, not going off course; it knows where London and Hogwarts are situated and can find its way to them; you should ask only. This broom has a very strong connection with the owner: being anywhere, you can mentally wish: "Fly to me", and it'll find you. To get rid of the golden trace, it's necessary to order: "invisible flight". To tell the truth, the speed will decrease a little. And lastly: if you'll allow somebody to fly on it, it's necessary to warn the broom about it. Well here, perhaps that's all.'

'But sir,' said Fred Weasley, 'you didn't tell Harry about the speed of "Thunder-storm"!'

'Really?' that surprised the master. 'Oh, it's no fun to be old. I didn't tell the most important thing! "Thunder-storm" achieves 350 miles per hour and it goes from zero to hundred mph in three seconds!'

Harry's jaw dropped.

'Yes, yes, it is the truth,' the master smiled. 'And in extreme situations it, probably, can do much more. To let you stay on the broom on such a speed, it has a built-in magic shield against the wind and another spell helps you not to fall down during the running start. So don't be afraid of the broom, Harry, it'll protect your life.'

In the meantime George Weasley took off his backpack and put it down. Something tinkled in it.

'Here's your money, sir,' said he, 'as we've agreed'.

The master slightly opened the backpack, looked inside and said: 'All's exact'. After that he put the broom into a special cover, handed it over to Harry, guided the friends out the door and wished them good luck.

As soon as the door closed, the twins exclaimed:

'Happy birthday, Harry!'

'You've lost your mind!' whispered he. 'This broom must cost you a whole fortune.'

'To be exact, we've given ten thousand Galleons for it,' said Fred. 'The annual profit of our shop. Now we brought the second half of the payment. The first time we used a wheelbarrow.'

'And don't protest,' continued George. 'Our business has been opened because of those thousand Galleons which you gave us two years ago. So we can say that we're repaying the debt.'

'Besides' said Fred, 'you collide with You-Know-Who too often. We think this broom will help you.'

'And lastly,' said George, 'don't tell anybody where you've got this broom. The old master asked that. Also don't say to our mum how much money we spent for your gift.'

Conversation was interrupted by a vile-kind sorcerer who suddenly attacked the friends from a dark corner. However, the twins were on call. The spell illuminated the street, made an explosion and the street was clouded with dense smoke. Under its covering all three friends disappeared in the secret pass.

'It's known,' said Fred, having recovered his breath, 'that it's better not to have to do with Knockturn Alley. Here can be met those from whom even gangsters run away...'

The friends passed through the secret pass without problems and imperceptibly came to Diagon Alley. Haven't walked even five steps, they understood that the others were already looking for them. Moving through the crowd, Mrs. Weasley hastened to them, being angry as a sabre-toothed tiger.

Fred tried to unload the situation:

'Everything's all right, Mummy, we went for a gift for Harry. And we're quite a bit late.'

'Only two hours,' continued George. 'I hope you haven't lost us yet?'

Only a quick reaction saved the twins: they disappeared before Mrs. Weasley had time to open her mouth to say everything that she thought about them.