Dragon Tales

Author's Note;Whooo, I'm back! Expect regular updates now that I've graduated. Y'all having a good summer? Anyway, not much to say as this story finally starts kicking off. As always, let me know what you think and feel free to check the other parts of this series, which can be read as standalone or not as the C goes through the cycle of reincarnation. Thanks for reading! OH, and check out my discord! It's new and shiny! /uaBZk2M32P

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"-AAAAAAAAAAHHHHH- wait a damn minute," I abruptly calm down. Alright, let's think this through. It's a fucking talking dragonohmygo-NO! Calm! It's in the bowls of Emrys Castle and all the myths associate Merlin and dragons… Okay, let's try to communicate with it. What's the worst that can happen? I die again? I snort, not sure if the idea of dying really bothers me. The gods seemed chill enough, so I suppose it wouldn't be too bad. Although, I'm having quite a bit of fun at the moment so let's try to live as long as possible, shall we?

Meanwhile, the fucking dragon, who had huge silver glowing eyes and dark glinting scales that sparkled like a stray sky when the flickering light of the torches glinted off them, remained perfectly still, and I got the impression it was trying not to scare me.

"Ah-ah hem," I take a deep breath, clearing my throat awkwardly, feeling the adrenaline flush out of my system, my limbs still quivering. "Hello?"

A deep rumbling fills the cavernous vault, gold and jewels waterfalling from their loose piles around giant clawed feet, and it takes me several moments to realize it's, no,he's, laughing. The sound is oddly gentle, the magic in me humming contentedly. Interesting, I think wide eyed, rubbing my chest.

Slowly, carefully, the huge head reaching so far up my weak eyes can't even make it out, lowers. Down, down, down the dragon head travels until its jaw is pressed to the piles of valuables on the dazzlingly ground. It tilts so that one magnificent eye with a longer length than my entire body, shining like refracted crystals, could take me in. Gone is my fear, only awe left behind as I take in the stunning creature whose magic resonated with my own, a silent drum beat of the soul with only the feeling of fondness and excitement behind it. It felt like a sincere welcome home.

Once more, the dragon speaks. It's a human language, oddly familiar, but not one I recognize. I shake my head, "I'm sorry, I don't understand."

He tilts his head, and then to my surprise, he try's again, this time with another language. Is that- "Latin?" The dragon makes an agreeing noise, but I sigh and shake my head. I've been picking up some Latin while learning magic from my books, but I don't know enough for this. Deciding I wasn't dead yet, I drew near, shivering at the heat coming from it's carefully shut maw, plopping down to think, head resting on my fist.

The dragon speaks multiple human languages, and as many interesting questions as that raises, I don't let myself focus on them. Chances are, this dragon is one who communicated with my ancestors. It's not like they wouldn't notice a giant mythical creature napping on the family jewels. It's not a stretch to think that could be how it knew human languages. The problem is that the last Emrys before me died out an unknown number of centuries ago. Languages change and develop with time, and even though I actually knew a fair few, they wouldn't likely resemble their ancient dialects. Except…

My head whips up as excitement starts to fill me. Staring at the luminous eye in front of me, I speak. "Can you understand this, Great One?"

The dragon rears back, blinking in surprise. "Yes, child. I hear you. It is fortunate that I learned the tongue of Arabia with your ancestors when they journeyed to learn new magicks across the globe."

I beam up at the legendary creature, happy my guess worked out. 1400ish years ago, Arabic was standardized with the creation of the Koran since followers of Islam were very serious about preserving their holy book without changing a single letter. Because of that, people to this day, especially those in Arababian countries, learn the formal, standardized version that has been carefully preserved, allowing Arabic speakers to communicate amongst one another in the same way as they did centuries ago. Although there are now hundreds of informal variants of the language, government documents, media, and schools still use the formal language from over a millennium ago. I myself had learned the formal, ancient version of the language in my former life, something only reinforced when I was born to my very multiethnic father in this life. Arabic isn't the oldest language still in use, not by far, but it's the only one I can actually speak.

"It's very fortunate we both know a language that's the same as its ancient form,"I agree, relieved. "I'm sorry if I disturbed you."

"Nonsense. This is your home, is it not? And I have been waiting for you. You are the Emrys that was prophesied, after all," The dragon flicks its tail, as though waving the notion off, sending gold flying like a sparkly shower.

I feel a spark of alarm budding up at the thought of prophecy, never having been a fan of the concept, especially not after having been reincarnated into the world of Harry Potter and realizing that all that messed up shit would be happening to a real, innocent child. Then there was the fact that Lady Fate decided to be an ass and re-destroy my shitty eyesight in exchange for my abilities. No, I did not want to be in a prophecy, thank you very much.

"What prophecy?" I ask warily.

The dragon flutters his wings ever so slightly, causing me to have to dodge a ginormous jeweled ax that slides past me, as he peers down his snout, smoke curling dangerously from the nostrils. "Are you not aware, Child? Of the magics of your family? Or its history?"

"No," I tell him sincerely, folding my legs beneath me. "I am the first Emrys with magic to be born in a very long time. I've only recently discovered my heritage. As of now, there is only my father and I, and he does not have magic. We have only just come to the castle, so I have not had a chance to discover much, and many of the books are not in the languages I can read."

The dragon grumbled something, hissing a little bit, and I got the distinct impression that they were curse words. "What a disaster. I wish I could go back in time just to wallop that clotpole. Cato was a terrible planner."

"Cato Emrys?" I perk up, recognizing the name. Cato was said to be the last Emrys Royal, and all his children were thought to have been squibs that disappeared into the muggle world centuries ago

"Yes," the creature agrees. "Like many of your bloodline before him, he too had the ability to see through the shards of time. We knew you would come, so it irritates me that he chose to leave the responsibility of telling you such things to me."

My brain promptly blue screens as I try to process that. The Emrys bloodline could see the future? I wasn't the only one? There were mentions of Merlin having prophetic dreams and engaging with prophecy, but I hadn't realized… I-wait, if Cato knew I was coming, was that because Lady Magic and Lady Fate decided I would be born here a really long time ago, or are things like reality and time simply not a barrier for them? Was I always supposed to be here? If all Emrys had the ability to See, then why the hell did Fate decide my vision needed to be trash In this life? What- I yank myself free of the spiraling thoughts, not wanting to deal with them at the moment. "Great one, can you tell me what this prophecy is?"

"Hmph, you are more pleasant then your scoundrel predecessor," he huffs, and I cough at the smoke and soot suddenly blocking my airways. "The prophecy stated that a soul Blessed by the gods would be born to the Emrys, reviving the family after a period of dormancy. From your line The Heralds of Avalon would be born."

I blink. Huh, actually? That's not to bad. I was already planning to revive the House, and it sounds like my future descendants are going to be living exciting lives, but that's not really my problem, so... OK, let's just ignore it for now since it's nothing bad.

"Alright, then. Um, please excuse my rudeness, but who are you and why are you down here?"

The dragon booms a laugh so thunderous the walls shake with it. "I, Little One, am the Great Dragon, Kilgharrah!" The dragon lifts its head from the ground, wings spreading wide as they blanket the entire chamber more then a hundred feet wide. "Son of Magic, and King and Sire of all Dragons!"

"Well," I squeak, a bit overwhelmed. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Kamaria Emrys Le Fey."

The dragon's head drops instantly, razor sharp fangs each at least twice my size visible from his cavernous maw as he suddenly roars, utterly astonished, the force sending me tumbling away. "Did you say Emrys Le Fey?!"

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In the end, I spent several hours sitting with Kilgharrah. His story was fascinating, and I listened, enraptured, as he explained that he was the first of all dragons, a creature created by Lady Magic herself since the mere presence of a magical entity as powerful as him facilitated the spread of magic. He explained that, while he was far older than Merlin, the two had formed a special friendship, and as such, created a pact, a magical bond made through vows and a ritual. In exchange for Kilgharrah's magic, particularly his prophetic abilities blessing the Emrys line, Kilgharrah would always have a home, friendship, and safe haven with Merlin's dependents. Kilgharrah would be family.

And so it was, for centuries, until something happened.

No one knew what caused it or how it started. Natural catastrophes started to occur far more frequently. All across the world, volcanic eruptions, hurricanes, droughts, and other disastrous phenomena started to occur. Magical plants became more rare as entire magic ecosystems started dying. Even the muggles seem to be affected as wars became more frequent, and those with magic were treated with more hostility when once they would've been cherished.

Worst of all, Kilgharrah himself became suddenly and violently ill and started to die, like many other magical creatures. Cato, the head of Emrys at the time, realized that something truly terrible was happening if a creature of pure magic such as the Great Dragon was being affected, since it could only mean one thing; Magic was dying. And so, the House of Emrys made a sacrifice, honoring the vow that Merlin had made centuries ago to protect Kilgharrah and, by extension, magic as a whole.

Cato went to his biggest rival, Auriela Le Fey, and together, they performed a ritual with a very steep price. Both gave up their lives, and their children, who assisted, gave up their magic. As a result, they were able to correct the imbalance in nature, but the magic in their lines would be dormant for many centuries.

Until me. Apparently, the price for the ritual had finally been paid, and I was born with the particularly strong magic both families, which had mixed at some point, had been known for. (Notably, Kilgharrah carefully skirts the issue of what caused the imbalance in the first place, sending a shiver down my spine. For some reason, I got a distinct feeling from my magic, the part that had started to be instinctual in its uncanny intuition, as though words were whispered in my ear; The world will never know the name of their Darkest Dark Lord.)

So, that was how both the Emrys and Le Fey Houses went temporarily extinct, And how I came about, and why I have a dragon in my basement. (He isn't trapped or anything, he just likes staying down here with the sparkle, spakle).

"Damn, that shit's fucking wild. They sound like badasses with that protagonist energy and full plot armor," I mutter awed, curled up in my new friend's warm tail, like leaning against sun warmed rock. Before correcting myself, carefully forming the words in my still young and semi unskilled mouth. "Um, I mean, they sound like true heroes of the bravest and noblest hearts worthy of eternal legends devoted to their grandeur, succeeding even against Lady Fate's machinations."

"Indeed," Kilgharrah states. I open my mouth, but all that comes out is a jaw cracking yawn, and I slump a little further against the dragon's scales, the texture somehow more smooth then leathery. "You are tired, Child. Despite your soul, small humans like you require much rest."

I groan, "Oh, Merlin's slutty little waist, ugh, I mean…. I truly do not think I could make the journey up those cruel, endless stairs. Perhaps I should just sleep here?"

Kilgharrah chuckles. "I suppose the path would be quite arduous for a hatchling like yourself. Fear not, I shall return you to your chambers."

I blink sleepily at him, uncomprehending. "Huh?" And then Kilgharrah is shrinking, going from something like eight stories tall, to the size of a horse as I gape, utterly bewildered. Wait, he couldn't have done that earlier?! I yelp, as in one smooth movement, his tail tightens and I'm placed in the nook between glorious wings. "Oh, hell-"

"Hold tight!" Kilgharrah takes off, my squeak ignored as powerful muscles contract, his wings rending the air as we shoot up, the clattering of shifting treasure in our wake. Kilgharrah flows forward, effortlessly twisting and turning, wings hardly pumping as we end up gliding through a dark cavern that branches into tunnels. Excitement chases away any of my previous exhaustion as I deathgrip the spikes along Kilgharrah's spine, my face splitting with the force of my grin and hair streaming out behind me. Between one moment and another, we are out of the torch lit caves and into the open night sky.

I whoop gleefully, taking in the glowing moon, Kilgharrah wings nearly disappearing from my sight, their appearance nearly identical to the sky itself. His laughter vibrates through us both, grinding rocks in an avalanche. Joy, excitement, relief.

Kilgharrah travels over thick greenery, the sound of crashing waves far below as he banks his wings towards the top of the the Family Tower, his talons easily using my extensive balcony ledge to land. Oh, that explains the castle architecture.

Carefully, Kilgharrah stretches his neck forward, and I use the spikes across his neck and back to clamber down, tumbling lightly to the stone floor, but oddly, completely fine. At my baffled face, the dragon snorts some smoke at me. "All the ledges and balconies have softening magic for curious, adventurous children like you."

"That's convenient," I giggle, still ecstatic by the journey. "Wait, Kilgharrah, where are you going?"

The dragon, who had spread its wings in preparation for flight, looked back down at me. " I shall return to the Blood Vault below the castle until you are able to introduce your household to me."

I frown, "I- Is that what you wish? This is your home as well, and for far longer than it has been ours. You need not hesitate to go where you please."

Kilgharrah seems to soften, his head bowing to bump my chest gently, knocking me onto my butt again. "It would be best not to spring my existence upon the unsuspecting without warning."

I wince, a bit ashamed by my initial reaction, even if it was reasonable. "I'm sorry if I hurt you when I first saw you, but I'm sure the others will get over it fast enough."

Kilgharrah snorts, the ash making me sneeze as I rubbed my fingers across the spikes crowning his head. "You were hardly frightened at all. I think you just take after your ancestors. And it is not that my feelings would be hurt, I just dislike the presence of weepy humans who lose control of their bowel movements at the sight of me."

I snicker, but press further. "Will you not be lonely? You have already spent around two weeks hiding away there just to give us time to settle in. Who knows how much longer it could take?" Kilgharrah ruffles his wings, clearly hesitating, and as I take in his shrunken form, I get a rather wicked idea. "Kilgharrah, what say you to a bit of mischief? It will allow you to remain with me and integrate yourself into the family?"

Large opalescent eyes glow as the ancient dragon chuckles, the sound almost sinister. "I'm listening."

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"Kamaria! What a beautiful ornament!" Andromeda gasps, her hand pressed delicately to her mouth in awe.

I nod, adjusting a tiny clawed foot around the French fishtail she had just put in hair. "Yes, his name is Kilgharrah. I found him among some of my family jewels."

I smirk, glancing in the mirror before winking, admiring the way Kilgharrah was curled around my head, his scales contrasting the light color of my silvery hair. Kilgharrah adjusts his wings, winking back.

"My, it looks and moves so realistically. Except for its scales, of course. As beautiful as dragonhide usually is, there is no dragon that looks like it was made from a piece of sky," Andi remarks, fascinated. Her fingers reach up to touch one of my new friend's wings, but when I sense the discomfort from his magic and the slight tightening of his tail, I gently catch her hand.

"Ah, Kilgharrah is an Emrys heirloom. He might not react well to being touched by someone without our blood," I explain.

Ted nods, sipping his coffee. "Yes, it's entirely possible there are some pretty vicious anti theft enchantments on it. Perhaps Kamaria could find out when she is a bit older."

I grin, unable to stifle the mad little giggle that slips out. Plopping down on my customary seat next to Dora at the breakfast table, which, today, was actually one located in a gazebo in one of the gardens. The same gazebo from my vision when looking for a proxy.

It was a frankly stunning place straight out of a fantasy, all sprawling grass that tickled my legs and vibrant flowers of every color and kind with curling stone pathways and a swing in nearly every towering tree. You couldn't walk more than a few meters before stumbling upon something bearing delicious, ripe fruit. It was a bit chaotic, a bit overgrown and wild, and it was perfect. The pond was lovely as well, clean and crystalline, even though the brownies were thoroughly infuriated by the very odd specimens that have made their homes there. I am 95% sure I'd once seen a few tentacles peeking out, but then again, it might have just been a particularly vigorous reed.

"Morning all!" My dad chirps, coming up the pathway, his pearly whites on full display, and I feel Kilgharrah stir to alertness on my head. "Hello, my heart. How are yo- Is that a dragon?"

I cackle quietly, while letting Andromeda explain that it is simply an enchanted hair ornament, a lie I can't be blamed for since I never actually said any such thing, simply allowing the Tonks' to come to their own assumption.

"It's beautiful," Papa murmurs, making himself a cup of coffee. Despite being a Brit, he hates traditional British tea, but I fully agree with him. Both of us prefer the teas from Africa and Asia, and coffee was a gift from the gods, so…

"His name is Kilgharrah," I correct my father, my smile toothy. He stills, scrutinizing me for a moment before shrugging and apologizing, looking vaguely amused. I'm not sure if he knows some bullshit is being pulled or not, but he has clearly decided to humor me either way.

"Anyways, Ria, we have the first prototype for the artifact you designed. This one translates Latin to English," Andi says, handing over a chunky pair of glasses. I snatch them up eagerly, putting them on my face and testing them on a spell book Dora had handy, (1001 Spells for Future Dueling Champions!).

The words in Latin appeared to be in English, and I could easily read it, although it was admittedly harder due to my shitty eyesight and the stupidly small print of the book. I nod, satisfied before taking them off. "Great, now let's make it multilingual."

Andi stares while Ted's head hits the table with a groan. "You are a ruthless little thing that expects much from your people," she suddenly grins, toasting her tea in my direction. "I respect that. What were you thinking?"

I start to break down my idea, working to make the product more useful and marketable, when a vision hits. I come back to the present with a few hands touching me with concern, but I shake off the unease of losing my eyesight, the sensation uncomfortable, but now familiar.

Cackling at the new information, I determine it is time to start bringing in my next underling. "Andi! I require the gingers!"

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"So, these Weasleys are good people?" My father asks me in Arabic, following my subtle cue and unknowingly letting Kilgharrah eavesdrop as he casually polishes his gun parts.

"Yup…" I state, wide eyed at the huge, definitely not legal weapons my father was disassembling without even looking at it. "Arther Weasley is a very talented enchanter who greatly admires muggles and their technological advancements made without magic."

My father nods, agreeably, pulling a huge ass knife from …somewhere, setting it besides the rest on his workbench. "I'll work with Ted on drawing up a contract. I assume you will be working with him directly to create all sorts of devious things to your heart's content, so we will make sure he can't spill any of our house's secrets." My dads words were mild enough, but the blood thirsty smile on his face was decidedly less so.

Kilgharrah snorts, and unlike Dora earlier in the day when I had been playing in the gardens with her, my father actually hears it, his head whipping up as he looks about the room. "Did you hear that, Ria?"

Oh shit. Panicking, I give him my most innocent look. "Here what, Papa?"

My father is utterly suspicious, as he should be, but seemingly decides to just let it go, turning his attention back to the work bench in front of him. Could I have come clean about my prank? Oh yes, definitely, but he had caught me so off guard my instinct was to just lie. Oops. Oh well, it'll be more fun if he figures it out on his own.

I twitch, curling his crimson duvet tighter around, as I watch him work with full incredulity. Finally, I decide to come out and ask him The question that has been nagging at me for months, no longer able to stifle my burning curiosity. "Papa?"

"Yes, dear?"

I gesture at the newly installed display case where weapons ranging from throwing knives to semiautomatic guns to swords to what might be a fucking rocket launcher are stored, each recently shined. "Papa… what the actual hell do you do for work?"

My father startles, "Oh, have we not talked about this, love? I work for the government on contract. I went on hiatus in order to raise you. I was supposed to go back soon, but…"

He shrugs, setting down the bits of metal he had been fiddling with. "Well, we are well enough off that I can stay home until you go to Hogwarts, even without accounting for anything in Gringotts or from your Grandfather."

"Papa…You're a spy aren't you?" My dad pauses, his aura uncertain. "Ohmygod, you aren't denying it!"

"A spy is a bit dramatic, dear…" I gape, gesturing wildly at the armory installed in his room. He sputters, a bit flustered, "I have a particular skill set-"

"Oh gods," I mutter, my face squished between my hands.

"-that results in special permission to handle certain…equipment." He explains, completely ignoring my internal crisis.

I take in my father's arsenal, wealth, sharp intellect, racial and ethnic ambiguity, and multilingual abilities and promptly decide, nope, let's just not think so hard about it. My toddler brain hurts. "Riiiiiiggght."

My dad huffs, settling down next to me. "Anyway," I note the hasty change of topic, but let him get away with it. "my sister, your Aunt Danae has just finished her semester at Uni. She was asking to visit. Your grandparents will also be wanting to come by since they will be back to the UK soon. Would that be OK with you?"

Ah, my mysterious aunt and grandparents who may or may not be political bigwigs.

I shrug, "if you think they are trustworthy and won't mind my magic, I would love to have them over. I'll leave it to your discretion."

My father raises his eyebrows. "Just like that?"

I shrug. "You know them better than I do. I trust you."

And amazingly, it's true.

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"You know what to do, Fern?" I ask the Brownie.

"Yes, Princessy! I go check on the baby friend of Princessy and make sure he clean, comfy, and fed!"

"And above all?" I ask her.

"Don't get caught or hurt!" The mother brownie confirms seriously. I had notified her of Harry's situation, and apparently, even as a different species, she had more compassion and humanity than the Dursleys.

"Watch out for the wards, and be safe. Oh! And take these!" I hand her a small slice of chocolate cake. It was Harry's second birthday after all.

After a few weeks of recon, Fern had confirmed that, no, just like in the books, the wards didn't protect against brownie magic, and that Dumbledore was just as guilty of underestimating the powerful little creatures as the rest of wizardkind. After Fern was sure, I'd given her a task; Discreetly take care of one baby Harry James Potter.

She would make sure his nappy was taken care of, wounds, if any, were tended, and that he would always find extra food in his cupboard, all while reporting his condition back to me.

It wasn't perfect. He would still be alone, and she couldn't be seen, even by him, since we couldn't afford to be caught lurking in case Dumbledore came around, unlikely as it was. We also weren't sure how bad the neglect and or abuse was since the book had a horrifyingly cheery way of glossing over it, and, well, this wasn't canon. It was bloody 2003 for starters.

It was risky, but doing nothing was making me ill. Hopefully, it would be enough until we could get Sirius out. Ted and Andi were almost ready and were consulting an attorney friend of theirs, one infamous Lady Lucrezia Zabini. Additionally, Andi would need to take my seat in the Wizengamot before the year was up. It was all going according to plan, but it still didn't feel fast enough.

I also hand Fern a tiny stuffed dragon to leave for Harry as well, and with a pop she's gone on her first of many wellness checks.

Sighing, I lift my hand, Kilgharrah using it to perch on as I bring him in front of my face. The dragon huffs at me. "What happens now is not your fault."

I grimace, "I know." I turn to watch the sunset over my island, guilt churning in my belly nonetheless as I compare my current life with little Harry's, and I spend some time praying to Lord Death and Lady Magic to protect him as the seventh month dies.

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