Chapter Text
4 PRIVET DRIVE
Harry was having a good day.
Well, if he was being honest, most of his days were bad days but today he was determined to make it a good one.
It had started early, too early for a six-year-old, with screams and demands to start preparing breakfast, and it only had gone worse when he accidentally dropped one of the plates when he was carrying it to the table— because his wrist really hurt from when yesterday his cousin Dudley had stepped on it after chasing him with his friends— resulting in a mess on the floor he also had to clean.
But that hadn’t made his day bad. No, that just made it normal.
After cleaning the mess he made and apologizing repeatedly for ruining their breakfast he debated himself if it was worthy to try to sneak some kind of food for him but one look at the intense gaze of his uncle fixed on him, and he discarded the idea. Today he couldn’t make more mistakes, he was used to reading the mood of his family, and today he really didn’t want to get in more trouble.
You see, Harry had a secret. For a couple of weeks, Harry had been watching a dragon.
Yes, he knows everyone says dragons aren’t real but, they also said that magic wasn’t real and Harry knows they were wrong about that.
If they weren’t how could he unlock his cupboard at night, so he could eat some of the food they threw away, how could his hair grow back overnight when his aunt would shave it while telling him how horrible it was, how could he have escaped from Dudley’s gang after they chased him telling him how they were going to kill him— he had been so scared he had just wanted to go away, he had been so relieved when the wind had caught him and took him away— So yes, he decided that they were very wrong, and his dragon was very real.
His dragon. His because it felt right. Because every time he saw it he felt a connection, warmth spread through his body, his injuries didn’t hurt so much, and maybe, just maybe, he wanted to be selfish one time. He wanted something that was his. And his dragon was definitely his. It was, because no one else saw him, just like nobody saw him.
So Harry decided to adopt a dragon. Today was going to be the day when he would finally approach him, and not admire him from behind. It was going to be difficult because Harry didn’t know how the dragon would react. He also didn’t know what the dragon could like, but he would manage. For his dragon, Harry would try his best.
That’s why today he couldn’t get in trouble, but he was having problems keeping still. He was practically vibrating from excitement after having managed to slip away from his aunt Petunia and Dudley hadn’t bothered him on their trip to school.
He didn’t manage to pay attention to what was being explained in class, but that didn’t matter because he was going to see his dragon,— and either way, he wasn’t allowed to do better than his cousin if he didn’t want to wake up with some bruises— when the last bell rang he quickly grabbed his things and ran to the bathroom, dodging bodies and turning sharp corners to lose his cousin. He managed to arrive and didn’t waste a second climbing through the window and dropping on the street just at the opposite way where he would normally exit.
For a moment the only sound that he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears. But a beat later a half high on adrenaline smile stretched across his face and he didn’t waste another second making his way to the clearing where the dragon usually was.
As he was getting closer to his destination he began to grow anxious, what if the dragon didn’t want to see him? What if he didn’t like his gift? He hadn’t made a gift before and the only ones the Dursleys had ever made him were a tissue and a toothpick, and he somewhat doubted the dragon would appreciate either of those.
But Harry wouldn’t be swayed away by nerves. He was going to see his dragon, there was no time to be nervous so with a final breath he began his approach.
Maurice was tired.
Ever since Ryker's Bane had lost his members he had been tired. Ever since he’d buried his entire Circle and all the children, since he had to watch as they were killed.
He was angry and feral, it took five months to coax him into a Halfling form, and from there, another year and a half before he would even speak. He didn’t have any reason to stay, so he applied for Charum Mortus, a charming death. A well-deserved rest. It was granted as it was his right. He already had everything prepared, nothing tying him to this world.
But it all went to hell when it happened. He hadn’t wanted it at first, he wanted to leave to reunite with his family, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t without seeing who he had been assigned to, so he had prepared for inter-realm transportation because, apparently his student wasn’t in Nevarah but on earth.
He was going to see them, and then he would reject the assignation. But he hadn’t been able to follow through on his original plan. How could he be capable of that when he had come to find a small child with big green eyes filled with wonder and innocence? How could he possibly refuse it when he had a little shadow spying on him, doing a poor job at it if he must say it, but how could he mind when at times, when he made any kind of movement to parade for him, he was rewarded with a badly concealed squeal that reached his ears and the sight of the little soul trying to muffle the sound with his hands.
And so the thing that was supposed to be fast and easy, started to complicated. How had he been summoned to mentor a six-year-old that didn’t have come to inheritance? But more importantly, how come a six-year-old, who looked like he was four at best, had more bruises and scrapes than some of his bonded when they returned from the pits?
Something was wrong. He didn’t know what or how, but he had a bad feeling. He was going to have to request assistance from Nevarah because this wasn’t normal and—Oh! His ear twitched when he heard the soft little steps of his student. He waited for them to stop like it had happened every other day, but it seemed he wasn’t going to stop today. White it was a pleasant development, he hadn’t expected it.
Maurice was going to make a copy of this memory. There was no way he wouldn’t, he had a six-year-old brunette with gleaming green eyes padding towards him with something clenched in his hand and he couldn’t help the purr that escaped him at the adorable sight. He saw when the child heard the sound because he almost tripped himself and his eyes rounded with a look of wonder. He was getting attached, and he knew it would only get worse when he heard his voice. It was a sweet and soft thing as if he was trying not to scare him. He almost scoffed at the thought of this little child scaring him. But the kid stole his attention again when he came to a stop right in front of him.
“Hi Mr. Dragon” He started softly and looking at him without blinking “I am sorry to annoy you, but I have been watching you and I would like to” he couldn’t listen to the next part, a feat in itself considering he had dragon hearing, because he started to mumble “and I know you don’t know me bu-but please let me adopt you”.