Chapter Text
1991, King’s Cross Station,
”— packed with Muggles, of course —“
Harry swung round. The speaker was a tall and slender olive-skinned woman with long black curls who was talking to four children. Three with silver hair, one with black. Each of them was pushing a trunk like Harry’s in front of him— and they had owls.
Heart hammering, Harry pushed his cart after them. They stopped and so did he, just near enough to hear what they were saying.
”Get ready kids.” Said the mother. “All right, Egg, you go first.”
What looked like the oldest boy marched towards platforms nine and ten. Harry watched, careful not to blink in case he missed it— but just as the silver-haired boy reached the dividing barrier between the two platforms, a large crowd of tourists came swarming in front of him and by the time the last backpack had cleared away, the boy had vanished.
”Dany, you next.” The olive-skinned woman instructed. “Jon, you right after her.”
”Sure thing.” The very attractive girl replied, immediately setting off with her trunk, silver hair trailing behind her like a flag. One moment it was there, trailing behind her like a comet’s trail, and a second later it was gone. As had the girl.
Now the third sibling, black haired, unlike the other three, was walking briskly towards the barrier— he was almost there— and then quite suddenly, he wasn’t anywhere.
There was nothing else for it.
”Excuse me,” Harry said to the tall woman.
”Hello, dear,” She smiled. “First time at Hogwarts? Senya’s new, too.”
She pointed at the last and youngest of her children. She was short, skinny and small, with grey eyes set in a long face and silver hair that fell to her shoulders in a mop. Her older sister was easily the more beautiful, but Harry supposed that Senya was pretty enough.
”Yes.” Said Harry. “The thing is— the thing is, I don’t know how to—“
”How to get onto the platform?” She said kindly, and Harry nodded.
”Not to worry.” She said. “All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don’t stop and don’t be scared you’ll crash into it, that’s very important. Best to do it at a bit of a run if you’re nervous.
”Oh, and here.” The tall woman produced a wand from a sleeve and rapped it on Harry’s head and truck. Suddenly, there were a lot less people gawking at Hedwig. The eyes of the people around them passed over them like they were just another group of normal travellers. Beneath all but the most cursory of notice. “Notice-me-not charm. So the muggles won’t see you.”
She nodded, towards her daughter.
”Go on then. Before Senya.”
”Er— okay.” Said Harry.
He pushed his trolley around and stared at the barrier. It looked very solid.
He started to walk towards it. Harry was going to smash right into the barrier and then he’d be in trouble. Leaning forward on his cart, he broke into a heavy run, the barrier coming nearer and nearer. He closed his eyes, bracing for impact.
It never came.
He kept on running, and opened his eyes.
A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, eleven o’clock. Harry looked behind him and saw a wrought iron archway where the barrier had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it.
”See? You did it!” A voice said, Senya rolling her trolley right beside him.
”Yes, guess I did.” Harry said, awestruck at the sight before him.
Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every colour wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and scraping of heavy trunks.
The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the windows to talk to their families, some fighting over seats.
”Come on.” Senya said. “Let’s find a seat quickly.”
She started off, and Harry followed the silver haired girl, passing through the crowd until they found an empty compartment near the end of the train. Harry put Hedwig inside first and then started to shove and heave his trunk towards the train door. He tried to lift it up the steps, but could hardly raise one end and twice he dropped it painfully on his foot. Beside him, Senya easily hoisted up her trunk with one arm and casually carried it aboard the train like it weighed no more than a bag of groceries, sliding it up into the luggage rack without difficulty.
”How?” Harry gasped, incredulous at the sight.
”Featherlight charm.” Senya explained. “Mama Elia put it on all our trunks.”
“Can you put it on mine?” Harry asked, kicking the heavy case.
”Sorry, but no.” Senya denied. “I’ll go fetch my brothers. They can help.”
The small girl dashed off, reappearing with the black-haired boy from before.
”Need a hand?” He asked. If Harry remembered correctly, it was Senya’s brother Jon.
”Yes please.” Harry panted.
”Oy, Egg! Need your help!”
The oldest boy seemed to pop out of the crowd. He had already changed into his billowing black Hogwarts robes, and Harry noticed a shiny silver badge on his chest with the letter P on it. He was pale, unlike his mother, with silver hair that was nearly white. Egg was taller than Jon, but Jon was the more muscular. Both of them easily picked up Harry’s trunk between them and tucked it onto a corner of the compartment.
”Thanks.” Harry panted, pushing sweaty hair out of his eyes. He noticed that the eyes of both boys— Wait, Egg had violet eyes! Harry had never seen that colour on a person before— flick up to his scar but they didn’t say anything apart from an acknowledging nod.
”Happy to help.” Egg said, walking off to assist another first-year, a girl with bushy brown hair.
”Aye.” Jon nodded, following his brother off the train.
Harry sat down next to the window, where half-hidden, he could watch Senya and her family on the platform and hear what they were saying. The Mother— Elia, was it?— was bending down, hugging her youngest child.
”Be good, sweetling. Don’t be naughty or give your professors too hard a time. Remember that even though we’re Targaryens—“
”We’re still human.” All of her children chorused, sounding as though they had to repeat that line countless times.
”We know, Mama.” Jon said.
”We’ll be good.” Dany promised.
”And totally won’t abuse our power.” Senya agreed.
”Unless, it’s someone that truly deserves it.” Dany piped up.
”Yeah. Some stuck-up git like Malfoy.” Senya chuckled, the girls laughing as their mother swatted them with fond exasperation.
“Don’t worry, Mama.” Egg said, glaring at his younger siblings. “I’ll keep them in line.”
”And I’ll keep you in line.” Jon retorted. “Make sure our future Minister for Magic doesn’t go mad with power now that he’s a prefect.”
”Do you really have such a low opinion of me?” Egg asked.
”Do you really want the answer to that question?” Jon asked back, their mother shaking her head in response.
”Just be good, kids.” Elia said. “Look out for each other and take care of Senya.”
A whistle sounded.
”Oh, hurry up!” The tall woman said, hastily hugging her children before pushing them towards the train, the children all clambering onto it.
Senya had barely gotten onboard when the train began to move, her mother waving her goodbye. Harry watched as they disappeared when the train rounded a corner. Houses flashed past the window. Harry felt a great leap of excitement. He didn’t know what he was going to— but it was better than what he was leaving behind.
The door to his compartment slid open, and Senya entered.
”Anyone sitting here?” She asked. “Everywhere else is full.”
Harry shook his head, and Senya sat down opposite him, just in time for two of her brothers to pop by the doorway.
”Hey, Senya.” Jon said. “We’re heading to the center of the train to meet our friends. You fine by yourself?”
Their sister nodded, and the two boys pushed a bushy-haired girl in front of them.
”This is Hermione.” Egg said. “She’s a firstie like you are. Mind helping take care of her?”
Senya nodded, and patted the seat beside her, Hermione gratefully accepting it.
”Right. Thanks.” Jon said.
”Hermione, meet my sister, Visenya Targaryen. And the boy is Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived.” Egg introduced smilingly. “Hope you guys can make friends.”
He stepped out of the cabin and gave them a wave.
”See you later.”
”Bye.” The three of them chorused as Egg and Jon walked off, sliding the compartment door shut behind them.
”Are you really Harry Potter?” Hermione blurted out. “I know about you of course. You’re in Modern Magical History and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century.”
”Am I?” Harry asked, feeling dazed.
”You are.” Visenya confirmed.
They might have pursued the conversation in greater detail, had the compartment door not slid open just then. Three boys entered, and Harry recognised the middle one at once: it was the pale boy from Madam Malkin’s robe shop. Though, Harry conceded, Egg, Dany and Visenya were infinitely paler, looking more like elves than someone whom just didn’t see a lot of sun. He was looking at Harry with a lot more interest than he’d shown back in Diagon Alley.
“Is it true?” He asked. “They’re all saying down the train that Harry Potter’s in this compartment. So it’s you, isn’t it?”
”Yes.” Harry said, eyeing the other two boys. Both of them were built like gorillas and looked quite thuggish. They flanked the boy, like bodyguards.
”Crabbe. Goyle. Malfoy.” Visenya greeted, voice cold like winter. “Don’t stare. Harry is a boy, not a zoo exhibit.”
”Oh, I was doing nothing of the sort, Lady Visenya.” The middle boy, Malfoy, said in an oily and sycophantic tone. “I was just here to offer our esteemed friend here guidance and opportunity. He really doesn’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort of people, you know.”
”I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks.” Harry said cooly. Malfoy didn’t go red, but a pink tinge appeared in his cheeks.
”I’d be careful if I were you, Potter.” He said slowly. “Unless you’re a bit politer you’ll go the same way as your parents. They didn’t—“
“Finish that sentence, and you’ll regret it, Malfoy.” Visenya interrupted. She hadn’t moved an inch, and was easily one third of Crabbe and Goyle’s size, and yet she now radiated presence and authority like a bonfire. “Now get out before I take even more offence.”
”You do not command me!” Malfoy snapped, Crabbe and Goyle looming behind him. “My father is on the Board of Directors. Don’t make me write to him—“
Undaunted, Visenya shot a truly unimpressed glare at Malfoy.
”I will remind you that no matter how powerful and influential the Malfoy family is, the Targaryen family is considerably moreso.” Visenya’s tone was mild, as though she was discussing the weather, and yet Harry practically choked, unable to breath as he felt a great pressure fill the cabin. “So scram back to whatever hole you crawled out of, Malfoy, unless you want me to write to my father.”
Malfoy purpled, but heeded her words, storming out of the compartment, his bodyguards following him out mindlessly. Once he was gone, Visenya let out a long sigh, tension draining out of her like water down a sink.
“You’ve met them before?” Hermione asked, Visenya sighing once more.
”Unfortunately.” She grumbled. “Side effect of being wizarding royalty in all but name. You have to rub shoulders with all of the powerful and influential families.
”Most of whom are like him.” Visenya cursed. “Snobby, stuck-up, racist—“
”Well, that’s rather rude.” Hermione huffed.
”It’s not an insult if it’s true.” Visenya drawled. Hermione looked like she was about to launch into a tirade at the silver-haired girl, so Harry prudently decided that a change in topic was warranted.
”So tell me about your father, Visenya.” Harry spoke up. “I’d like to know just how he could send that git scurrying off.”
“Duke Rhaegar Targaryen.” Visenya replied, shooting Harry a relieved look. “He’s kind of like the Queen of England. His position is mostly ceremonial, but he commands a lot of power and influence in the wizarding world.”
Huh, the name sounded familiar, but Harry couldn’t place it. Maybe he overheard someone talking about this Duke Rhaegar?
”Oh!” Hermione said excitedly. “I’ve read about him. He’s known in the muggle world as an eccentric billionaire. He recently converted two old and obscure castles into hotels, with all the profits dedicated to various charities across the world.”
“Ah, now I remember.” Harry recalled. “Summerhall and the Red Keep, was it? My uncle and aunt were really excited about it. They really wanted to live in a castle, even for a little while.”
”That is true.” Visenya nodded. “Caused quite the ruckus in the wizarding world. Summerhall was a ruin, so the fallout wasn’t too bad, but the Red Keep was essentially our government building. We’ve had to move the entire Ministry for Magic down into the London underground, which didn’t go over well with much of the crowd.
”Never mind that the birth rate meant that the Red Keep was three-quarters empty and the upkeep was getting too costly.” Visenya grumbled.
“I see.” Hermione mused. “So there was a large amount of protests.”
”Indeed.” Visenya agreed. “Everyone expected my father to just be another easily controllable figurehead like most of his ancestors, so they were rather miffed that he decided to take an active interest in rule.
“But enough about my father. What about you, Hermione? What’s your family like?” The silver-haired girl asked.
”Oh. My parents are both dentists. Came as quite the shock when I got my Hogwarts letter.” Hermione spoke quickly, like her mind was faster than her mouth, and so she tried to get as much words out in the shortest period of time.
”Ah, a muggleborn.” Visenya noted. “And you Harry? No one knows what or where you’ve been since you were a babe.”
”I went to live with muggles.” Harry sighed. “My aunt and uncle and cousin. They’re pretty horrible though. Wish I had three wizard siblings.”
”Five.” Visenya corrected, sounding rather gloomy. “I’m the sixth and youngest in the family.”
”Five?” Hermione asked.
”Viserys and Daenerys are technically my uncle and aunt, but they’re so close to our age I consider them siblings.” Visenya replied.
”Oh.” Harry said. “Do you mind telling me about your siblings then? I’d love to hear about your family.”
”Viserys is the oldest.” Visenya shook her head. “Bit of a prissy prick, to be honest, but he was Head Boy. Graduated top of his class. He’s working under Barty Crouch in the Ministry now.
”My sister Rhaenys is next. Graduated last year. She was the Quidditch Captain and ace of the team. Never lost a game. She works on Dragonstone right now, as a Dragonkeeper.” Visenya continued. ”You’ve met my brother Aegon. He’s a prefect now, and seems on the verge of following Viserys’ path.
“Then there’s Jon and Dany— Jaehaerys and Daenerys— they’re the same age, though different years, due to the months, and practically inseparable. Jon is a brilliant Quidditch player, swordsman and magical duellist, and Dany— also another brilliant Quidditch player— is not only a ridiculously powerful sorceress, but also the most beautiful girl in school, so they’re really really popular.”
Visenya sighed.
”Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it’s no big deal, because they did it first.” The silver-haired girl lamented. “I mean, what is there left to achieve? With so many outstanding siblings?”
“I’m sure you’ll think of something.” Hermione earnestly said. “Maybe charity? Queen Elizabeth is patron of over half a thousand organisations and charities.”
”Margaery Tyrell already has that under lockdown, and Dany is running a big anti-slavery campaign down on the continent.” Visenya grumbled.
”There’s slavery on the continent?” Harry asked, aghast.
”Yes.” Visenya agreed. “Mostly muggles bewitched into service. Warlocks take the women as concubines to breed children, and use the men as labourers and cannon fodder. It’s horrible.”
”But surely your family is doing all they can to free them, right?” Hermione all but begged, looking green at the prospect.
”There’s an informal agreement between us and the continent to stay out of each other’s affairs. Even getting my father to sanction Dany’s anti-slavery racket took so much cajoling from both my mothers. And it nearly caused open war to break out between us.” Visenya sighed. “My father doesn’t want that. Not after the last war with You-Know-Who. Even now we’re still licking our wounds.”
Seeing that Hermione was about to launch into a tirade about how the Ducal family ought to be doing more, Harry quickly changed the topic.
”Both my mothers?” He repeated. “You have more than one mother?”
Visenya shot him a grateful look, acknowledging the way he’d thrown her a rope by changing the topic.
”Yes. I have two mothers. You’ve met Mama Elia at the station. Mama Lya is the other.” The silver-haired girl explained.
”Right. I’ve read about that.” Hermione nodded. “Duke Rhaengar has two wives. Elia Martell and Lyanna Stark. It caused quite the stir on both the tabloids and the mainstream media.”
“Two wives?” Harry repeated. “Is that legal?”
Visenya snorted amusedly at that.
“Legally speaking, my mother Lyanna is his mistress, but who’s counting?” The witch shrugged. “The main issue the wizarding world had with the match was that Mama Lya was a muggleborn.”
”Is that a bad thing?” Harry asked, alarmed, looking at Hermione.
”To the old families, like Malfoy’s crowd, yes.” Visenya agreed. “They don’t like muggle blood coming in and diluting ‘pure wizarding stock’.”
”Well that’s just stupid.” Hermione flatly stated. “We’re all human. It’s not like been born with wizarding parents makes you any different from someone with muggle parents.”
Visenya shrugged.
”Discrimination is everywhere.” The silver-haired girl sagely said.
———
1991, Hogwarts, Great Hall,
“I’d take you on anytime on my own.” Malfoy scowled at Harry. “Tonight, if you want. Wizard’s duel. Wands only— no contact.”
“Ah-ah-ah.” Visenya chided, turning slowly around to face him. “Don’t tell me that the Malfoy heir has forgotten his etiquette lessons. You’re the challenger; you don’t get to set the terms.”
She paused, and sized him and both his goons up. Looking them up and down disdainfully.
”Tis a sad day when the heirs of three old and noble lines can’t remember the proper rites and traditions.”
Malfoy visibly reddened at Visenya’s words, swelling up like a balloon. Harry thought that he might just strike her there and then, but he mastered himself, and threw a glove down at Harry’s feet.
”Harry Potter! I demand satisfaction! I challenge you to a Wizard’s Duel!” Malfoy formally announced to the entire hall, many a head turning around to gape at him.
”Wait, that can’t be allowed. Isn’t duelling against the school rules?” Hermione protested.
“Not necessarily.” Daenerys answered, sidling over. “There’s a few archaic school rules regarding this. Hogwarts is required to accept formal honour duels, supervised and refereed by a professor. For example, last year, Jon duelled Daario Naharis when he… insulted my honour.”
The beautiful girl paused.
“This doesn’t fall in the same category though. Malfoy has not provided a legitimate formal grievance. And no, simple name-calling or disliking a person isn’t enough. I suppose this falls more under an exhibition duel or an informal duel. Which also requires teacher supervision. You can ask a teacher, but they don’t encourage violence, so they’re likely to decline to supervise.”
”In short, just say no, Harry.” Hermione warned. “Don’t get into silly fights.”
”I agree.” Harry nodded. “You’re not worth my time, Malfoy.”
He’d just turned back around to resume eating when Malfoy spoke once more.
”Fine then. In 1559, Lucius Malfoy I was prevented from winning the hand of Queen Elizabeth I in marriage by the dishonourable harlot Harriet Potter! I, Draco Malfoy, invoke this ancient grievance, and demand satisfaction from the last heir of House Potter, Harry Potter!”
There were gasps from the entire crowd, everyone goggling at Malfoy’s words.
”He didn’t…”
”But that’s ancient history… literally.”
”What does he mean by dishonourable harlot?”
”Lesbianism. He means lesbianism.”
“I thought that the failed Malfoy courting was one of those things vehemently denied by the family, and which everyone just politely agreed to pretend it never happened…”
Near the entire hall had turned to look at the them, murmurs breaking out. Unlike before, when Malfoy’s attempt to duel was laughed at, everyone was deadly serious now.
”Uh, can I deny this one as well?” Harry hopefully asked.
”Unfortunately not.” Daenerys looked like she’d bitten into a lemon. “This is a legitimate formal grievance, and a pretty big one at that. Turning it down will see you and your entire family branded as dishonourable cowards and cravens.”
”For something his ancestors did?!” Hermione shrieked, horrified.
”You’d be surprised how common that still is in the wizarding world.” Jon muttered.
Daenerys had gone very silent, contemplating options. She whispered something in a language that sounded similar to Latin but completely different to Visenya. Visenya’s eyes suddenly lit up at her aunt’s words and she nodded.
”Harry, accept the duel. Pick up the glove.” Visenya told him, winking subtly at him. “We’ve got a plan.”
———
After dinner that night, Dumbledore waved his wand, sending all the tables and chairs flying over to the walls and clearing a space for the fighters. Such was the severity of the grievance that the Chief Warlock of the Wizangamot had to personally preside over the duel.
“What’s the betting odds, Lee?” Aegon asked.
”Fifty-fifty, more or less. Malfoy probably knows how to duel, while Harry doesn’t. But on the other hand, it’s Harry freaking Potter.” Lee Jordan answered. “It’s an even split.”
Harry walked up to the duelling ring, feeling as though dinner was a solid lump in his stomach. Daenerys and Visenya had come up with a pretty foolproof plan, so long as he followed the script.
Both fighters entered the ring, their seconds— Senya for Harry, and Crabbe for Malfoy— a step behind them.
“Heir Malfoy, are you willing to settle your dispute with the Potter family peacefully?” Dumbledore asked.
”Not unless Harry Potter throws down his wand, leaves this school, and never returns.”
“That’s not going to happen.” Harry coldly said. “We will duel, Professor.”
”Very well then. As the challenger, Heir Malfoy has the right to demand the forfeit.”
”If I win, then Harry Potter will do as I say; Throw down his wand, leave this school, and never return.”
As rehearsed, Harry answered the way he’d been coached to by Aegon and Daenerys.
”If I win, then Heir Malfoy will have his mother Narcissa Black, proxy and regent to the incarcerated Lord Sirius Black, reinstate her disowned older sister Andromeda Black and her descendants into the Black Family.”
Harry had no idea what any of that meant, and had initially wanted to demand Draco’s expulsion instead. But every single Targaryen in the school seemed to think that this would be better and more painful to Malfoy.
This seemed to fly over most of the students’ heads as well, but quite a few of the older purebloods suddenly looked a lot more attentive.
”Very well then, the wager has been heard. As the challenged, Lord Potter has the right to set the terms.”
Harry took a deep breath, and remembered what he’d been told by Visenya.
Malfoy was quite bluntly, the superior wizard. Harry had no idea of what to do in a magic duel, save a few schoolyard jinxes he’d picked up from the older students. While Malfoy, at minimum, knew how to stun, shield and disarm. If Harry fought, he’d lose.
”No magic!” Harry declared, putting his wand in Visenya’s hands and raising his fists in a rough approximation of a boxing stance. “We settle this like muggles.”
Gasps.
Harry grinned as Malfoy visibly blanched at the terms. This was most certainly not the easy win Malfoy wasn’t expecting. With magic, Malfoy would wipe the floor with Harry. Without, Harry’s odds were far better. He, unlike Malfoy, knew the rough basics of fighting, based on his long experiences from Dudley’s Harry Hunting.
It was considered bad form and dishonourable, but Harry didn’t care about any of that. Malfoy was the one who started this fight.
For a moment, Harry thought that Malfoy might genuinely back down, surrender without a fight. But then, Malfoy’s face firmed up, and he ground out an agreement between gritted teeth, placing his wand in Crabbe’s hand and raising his own fists.
“Very well then.” Dumbledore said. “Both take your positions, and bow.”
Both Harry and Malfoy lowered their head by the barest fraction, before stepping backwards to the edges of the makeshift duelling field.
”This duel is not until the death. You will stop when we tell you to stop.“ Dumbledore reminded them both. “Cast on— oh, my apologies— fight on three. One… two… three!”
Harry ran forwards at Malfoy, and threw a punch, which Malfoy barely managed to block. Malfoy threw a punch back at Harry, but compared to Dudley and his gang, he was slow. It was easy to dodge and counterattack.
For a moment, Harry thought that he could win, but unfortunately things weren’t so easy. Chronically underfed, Harry was smaller and weaker than Malfoy, and while he’d had good meals over his time in Hogwarts, it was still not enough for him to overcome the physical gap. Experience, combined with catching Malfoy off-guard helped a bit, but once Malfoy realised that Harry couldn’t pack much strength behind his punches, he’d rallied.
Kicking Harry backwards, Malfoy rushed in, ignoring Harry’s blows and punching Harry straight in the stomach. He’d had far harder from Dudley, but Harry still felt the wind get knocked out of him.
”…Not so tough after all, Potter.” Malfoy panted, raising his fists once more. “You can surrender now, and I won’t hurt you too badly.”
”Not on my life.” Harry panted as well.
He’d wanted to settle this fair and square, but Jon had slipped him a secret trump card before the fight, just in case. Now it would seem time to use it.
As Malfoy lunged at him once more, Harry reached into his pocket, and pulled out a shrunken Quidditch Beater’s bat. It returned to full size in his hands a heartbeat later, and Harry swung it around, braining Malfoy in the head with a most satisfying ‘Thunk!’.
“What?” Malfoy stumbled backwards. “But— you’re— you’re cheating!”
”I only said no magic, not no weapons.” Harry pointed out, silently thanking Visenya for making sure he worded the terms properly. Another underhanded trick, but needs must. Harry absolutely refused to let anyone take Hogwarts away from him.
And then Harry went on the offence, whacking away with the bat. Whaling on Malfoy with all his strength. Three strikes, and Malfoy’s wrist broke. Another five, and he went down, knee bent nearly backwards. It took another four strikes on his downed opponent, before Dumbledore called an end to the duel, letting Harry limp back to his friends.
Bruised and bloodied, but more importantly, victorious. He would not have to leave Hogwarts behind.
———
1991, Hogwarts, Trophy Room,
Jon’s old Beater’s bat got immortalised in the Trophy Room.
The bloodstains and small bits of blonde hair stuck to it had been magically preserved, and a small plaque had been added beneath it. A mostly pithy thing, it briefly detailed the Potter-Malfoy duel, and how Harry had cleverly used the terms of the duel to humiliate Malfoy.
A lesson as to how cunning could triumph over a superior opponent. As well as a warning against biting off more than one could chew.
———
1991, Hogwarts,
Harry and Visenya swished and flicked, but the feather they were supposed to be sending skyward just lay on the desktop. Visenya got so impatient that she prodded it with her wand and set fire to it— Harry had to put it out with his hat.
The table next to them wasn’t having much more luck.
”Wingardium Leviosa!” Seamus Finnegan shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill.
”You’re saying it wrong.” Harry heard Hermione snap. “It’s Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, so make the ‘gar’ nice and long.”
”You do it then, if you’re so clever.” Seamus snarled.
Hermione rolled up her sleeves, flicked her wand and said: ”Wingardium Leviosa!”
The feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.
”Oh, well done!” Cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. “Everyone see here, Miss Granger’s done it!”
Seamus Finnegan was in a very bad mood after class, storming out with black rage writ on his face.
”It’s a wonder how you two can stand her.” He told Harry and Visenya as they pushed their way into the crowded corridor. “She’s a nightmare, honestly. I’m actually surprised you two are her friends.”
Hermione knocked into Harry as she hurried past him, tears in her eyes.
“Seamus, that was uncalled for!” Visenya shouted, before hurrying after Hermione.
”Agreed. Seamus. Hermione is a great friend.” Harry glared at him, before hurrying off after the two girls.
They later found Hermione sobbing in a girls’ bathroom. Visenya went in to talk, but Hermione was pretty inconsolable. Harry left for their next class, telling Professor McGonagall about the girls and offering to take notes for them. It was the first time he’d ever seen their Head of House so angry, and Seamus Finnegan looked like he was facing down a dragon when Professor McGonagall asked him to stay behind after class.
Harry went back down to the girls’ bathroom, and waited outside for the girls. He pulled out Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them and began reading. Eventually, Visenya and Hermione finally emerged from the lavatory, Hermione still red-eyed, but a lot better.
”There, there.” Visenya was saying. “It’s okay. Don’t worry. Harry took notes for the classes we missed, and there should still be some food down at the feast. We can— wait, what’s that smell?”
Harry sniffed and a foul stench reached his nostrils, a mixture of old socks and the kind of public toilet no one seems to clean.
And then they head it— a low grunting, and the shuffling footfalls of gigantic feet. The three of them turned around to see something massive lumber around the corner.
It was a horrible sight. Twelve feet tall, with skin that was a dull, granite grey. It had a great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. It was holding a wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long.
”Troollll!” Visenya screamed, and the troll screamed back at her.
With screams of blind panic, the three first-years immediately turned and ran in the opposite direction, the troll lumbering after them. They must have run for ages, dashing through empty corridors and ascending staircases.
Despite its size, the troll was surprisingly fast. It was slow, but its size meant that each step covered a much greater distance than their tiny legs could.
The trio dashed past the Charms classroom, and as the troll lumbered after them, smashing and crushing everything in its way with its club or simple sheer bulk. They ran to the end of the corridor where they slammed into a door— and it was locked.
”This is it!” Senya moaned, as they pushed helplessly at the door. “We’re done for! This is the end!”
The troll was but thirty feet away now, roaring angrily as it swung its heavy club.
”Have you gone mad? Are you a witch or not?” Hermione shouted, tapping the lock with her wand. “Alohomora!”
The lock clicked, and the door swung open. They piled through it, shut it quickly, locked it, and warily backed away from the door, which must have been enchanted, for the troll was unable to break in, banging and roaring to no avail.
“Whew, we’re safe.” Harry said, turning to face the girls, only for his face to fall as he took in the sight before him.
For a moment, he thought that he’d walked into a nightmare— this was too much, on top of everything that had happened so far.
The three of them weren’t in a room as he’d supposed. They were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now they knew why it was forbidden.
They were looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog that filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads. Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in their direction; three drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs.
It was standing quite still, all six eyes staring at them, and Harry knew that the only reason they weren’t already dead was that their sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that, there was no mistaking what those thunderous growls meant.
Harry groped for the doorknob, and the three of them ran screaming out of the corridor, and right into the troll. Visenya— the smallest of them— managed to slip between its legs, while Harry and Hermione had to duck under an angry club swing.
Then Harry and Hermione blindly ran right into Visenya. There was a crack as Harry’s forehead impacted hers, and the three of them toppled over in a heap of groaning limbs.
Roaring, the troll raised its club, slowly and inexorably. It would kill them, Harry could tell. The club would come down and pulp all three of them with a single swing.
Harry closed his eyes, held the girls, and braced for the inevitable.
It never came.
”Sectumsempra!”
Harry felt something fly over his head, and then there was a series of meaty thunks. Something rolled, and came to a stop right beside Harry.
The three of them opened their eyes to see the troll fallen over on its back. Its decapitated head right beside Harry’s shoulder.
Silently, dumbstruck at their fortune, the three of them eagerly turned to thank their saviour, only for their faces to fall on last time.
”Well, well, well. Why am I not surprised?” Snape drawled. “Potter and his friends. Please tell me why you thought fighting a full-grown mountain troll was a good idea? I am looking forward to what must be a truly enlightening explanation.”
Suddenly, death by troll didn’t seem so bad, compared to being saved by Snape.
———
1992, Hogwarts, Hagrid’s Hut,
“Hagrid— what’s that?”
But he already knew what it was. In the very heart of the fire, underneath the kettle, was a huge, black egg.
”Ah.” Hagrid fiddled nervously with his beard. “That’s er… an ostrich egg! Yes!”
Visenya raised a silver eyebrow at Hagrid.
”Hagrid, are you seriously trying to lie about dragons to a Targaryen?” She incredulously asked.
”A’ight, fine.” Hagrid surrendered. “It’s a dragon egg.”
”And how do you have a dragon egg, Hagrid?” Hermione faintly asked.
”Won it.” Hagrid said. “Las’ night. I was down in the village havin’ a few drinks an’ got into a game o’ cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest.”
”But what are you going to do when it hatches?” Harry asked.
”Well, I’ve bin doin’ some readin’.” Hagrid pulled a book out from under his pillow. “Got this outta the library— Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit— it’s a bit outta date, o’ course, but it’s all in here.”
”You’re keeping the egg in the fire.” Visenya noted, crouching over the fire to take a closer look. “Ah, good, you’ve made sure it’s sufficiently hot.”
She nodded approvingly.
”What are you planning on feeding it?” Senya asked.
”Bucket o’ brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour.” Hagrid replied, rapping a foul-smelling pewter bucket in the corner.
”I recommend instead sheep blood and milk, served hot.” Visenya replied. “Yes it’ll cause some digestive issues at first, but trust me, the dragon will be healthier in the long run for it.”
The silver-haired girl frowned as she ran a hand over the large egg, uncaring of the flames or heat.
“Ah, it’s a Norwegian Ridgeback.” She approvingly said. “They’re really rare. We don’t have any left on Dragonstone.”
Hagrid looked very pleased with himself, happily pouring Senya a bucket-sized mug of tea and getting into an animated conversation with her over the finer points of dragon raising, as Harry and Hermione stared at them in horror.
———
1992, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Grounds,
“So why do you know so much about dragons, exactly?” Harry demanded as they walked back to the castle.
”House Targaryen are the only dragonriding family in the world.” Senya happily said. “I’ve grown up alongside dragons in our ancestral home of Dragonstone.”
A sudden image of Senya gleefully cackling atop a massive winged reptile and laying waste to all that displeased her suddenly appeared in Harry’s mind.
”But isn’t it illegal to breed dragons?” Hermione asked. “The Warlocks’ Convention of 1709 made it illegal in Great Britain.”
“Not entirely true.” Visenya corrected. “You can get a permit. House Targaryen has one, as does Gringotts, and there are enclosures down on the continent where dragon breeding is allowed.”
”Please tell me Hagrid has a permit.” Harry all but pleaded.
“Dumbledore could feasibly get one.” Visenya evaded.
”That wasn’t yes.” Hermione said, alarmed.
”Fine, he doesn’t.” Senya sulked.
”Well, I think the next thing we should do is obvious.” Hermione declared. “We bring this up to Professor Dumbledore.”
”And get Hagrid into deep trouble?!” Visenya demanded. “No! He’s our friend, we can’t tattle on him like that.”
”Senya, it’s one thing to bring a school rule.” Hermione beseeched. “Another to break a law. We could all get imprisoned, or worse, expelled!”
Harry suddenly turned to Visenya.
”Rhaenys.” He said.
”No, I’m not Rhaenys, I’m Visenya!” Senya shot back irritably.
”No— Rhaenys— your sister Rhaenys. On Dragonstone. Working as a Dragonkeeper. We could send the dragon to her once it hatches. She can take care of it.”
”Huh.” Visenya frowned. “That might work, but we’re going to need extra help.”
———
1992, Hogwarts, Hagrid’s Hut,
“Hagrid, you’re a good friend and all, but this is just irresponsible.” Jon beseeched. “You live in a wooden hut.”
”Yeah.” Dany agreed. “And there’s a reason why we don’t bring our dragons down to school. They’re not pets, they’re dangerous creatures.”
Harry and Hermione had disagreed with Visenya when she suggested bringing her older siblings into the secret, but Jaehaerys and Daenerys were rapidly proving worth their weight in gold. The two of them were mature and calm. Charismatic and persuasive. And were slowly talking Hagrid around to Harry’s idea of sending the recently hatched Norberta to Dragonstone.
“You two own an’ ride dragons, don’t ya?” Hagrid pointed out.
”Which is why we know exactly how dangerous they are.” Dany flatly stated, violet eyes flicking over to the sleeping dragon in the corner. “And we’re Targaryens. The resident experts when it comes to dragons. We know what we’re saying.”
“Look, we’re not taking Norberta away from you. We’re taking her away from everyone else.” Jon sighed. “It’s really not safe to keep a dragon nearby eleven-year-old schoolkids.”
”Yeah.” Visenya piped up. “You can visit Dragonstone anytime you want. It’s like sending a child off to school. Just because they’re no longer at home doesn’t mean you can’t see them.”
That seemed to be what sold Hagrid on the scheme. He nodded shakily, and muttered an agreement.
———
1992, Hogwarts, Forbidden Corridor
“There’s still time to turn back.” Harry said. “I won’t blame you.”
”Don’t be stupid.” Visenya rolled her eyes.
”We’re coming.” Hermione insisted.
Harry pushed the door open, and as planned, Visenya began singing.
”High in the halls of the Kings who are gone, Jenny would dance with her ghosts…”
———
The black king took off his crown, and Visenya put it on her head, taking his place on the chessboard.
“You two hang back.” She told Harry and Hermione. “I’ll handle this one.”
It was a long and furious match, and the silver-haired girl came harrowingly close to defeat more than once. But eventually, Visenya checkmated the white king.
He laid his crown by her feet, and the rest of the chessmen bowed and stood out of their way.
”That… that was brilliant, Senya.” Harry breathed.
”Don’t worry, I knew what I was doing. I was never in danger the whole time. I took the place of the king. If the king lost, we were scuppered anyway. Even in checkmate, the king is left unscathed.”
”But— but— “ Hermione was breathing very fast and quickly.
”Hey, calm down, Mione. It’s not so bad. I could have taken the place of one of the other pieces. Or worse, ask you two to join me on the chessboard as fighters.” Visenya paused. “I know I’m not the smartest person, but at least I’m not that stupid.”
They pushed open the next door, and stepped over the threshold. Fire immediately sprang up around them, purple flames around the door from whence they came, and black flames before the doorway leading onward. They were trapped.
Hermione cracked the riddle pretty quickly, and found the appropriate bottle. Harry’s heart sank.
”There’s only enough for one of us.” He hoarsely said. “There’s hardly one swallow.”
They looked at each other.
”Which one will get us back through the purple flames?”
Hermione pointed out a rounded bottle at the right end of the line. Enough for all three of them, if need be.
”You two drink that.” Harry told them. “No, don’t argue. Listen, go back, grab brooms from the flying-key room, they’ll get you up the trapdoor. Senya will sing Fluffy to sleep again. Once you’re out, go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, we need him. I might be able to hold Snape off for a while, but I’m no match for him, really.”
“But Harry, what if You-Know-Who is with him?” Visenya fearfully said.
”Well— I was lucky once, wasn’t I?” Harry asked, pointing at his scar. “I might get lucky again.”
Hermione’s lip trembled, and she suddenly dashed at Harry and threw her arms around him. Visenya was hugging him too a heartbeat later.
”Harry— you’re a great wizard, you know?” Hermione said.
”Yeah, the best friend. The bravest.” Visenya agreed. “Be careful.”