New ArrivalsDisclaimer: None of the characters are mine, but belong to the respective owners.
Once upon a time, when Faith prepared to fence with Giles (a Spanish rapier versus a Russo-Polish cavalry sabre), in rushed one of their Vampire Slayer subordinates, Genevieve Savidge.
“Guys, guys, Draco has just floed me,” she exclaimed breathlessly. “Apparently there’s some sort of a situation along the Thames, and could we please help out? By ‘us’ he meant the Slayers – apparently it’s something big.”
“For Draco, everything is big,” Faith said wearily, “and I blame Lucius exposing him to Crabbe and Goyle Juniors at a young and impressionable age. Ever since hanging around with them, Draco thinks that everything is big – well, bigger than he is, at any rate.”
“And that’s a very lovely theory, but are we going?” Genevieve wasn’t budging. “Because that Granger girl was there as well, and she was saying-“
“Fine, fine, if it’s Grainger then we’re going. Hopefully, she’s going to keep reality in check, ‘cause with Draco it’s mountains out of molehills and elephants out flies all the way. Giles, floo us?”
“Yes,” Giles nodded absent-mindedly, since he was of an even lower opinion of Draco and his alarm than Faith was. “Why not?”* * *
“Still think that I was exaggerating?” Draco asked Faith (really his cousin Vi’era Nocturna Les-trange) some time later. “What are these things – I mean creatures, anyways?”
The creatures that Draco were talking around were lying on the shores of Thames. Resembling roughly man-sized, sinuous, two-legged and winged dragons, with scales of such a watery colour that from a distance it appeared that the shores of Thames became more submerged than the usual during an unnaturally high low tide.
Up close, however, the creatures were clearly flesh and blood and were not water spirits, their colouring notwithstanding.
“We’re not sure,” Genevieve replied instead. “Got to tell you, though, that the look in their eyes is vaguely intelligent – sort of how the Royal family is intelligent.”
“Really?” Luna Lovegood, who by no means should’ve been here, popped up like a Jack-in-the-box. “Can I quote you on that?”
“What are you doing here?” Genevieve asked her huffily. “I thought that Faith told you to avoid us-“
But instead of responding to her cue, Faith leapt and landed right next to the not-quite-dragons. Then she looked their leader in the eye and said something in a clearly non-English language.
“That’s goblins’ language. How does she know that?” Draco heard Ron Weasley exclaiming in the distance and bit his tongue to prevent himself from replying.
Faith, however, didn’t have to worry about this – she didn’t receive any replies, period. That clearly didn’t put her into a good mood, as she rubbed her neck, her cheeks and her lower jaw in irritation before looking at her interlocutor and saying yet another phrase in yet another language.
Now it was Draco’s turn to be startled. “What sort of a language is that?” he asked out loud.
“I think it’s theirs,” Hermione weakly replied, seeing how this got a reaction out of Faith’s interlocutor at last: the creature was startled and asked Faith in that same language, albeit with a fluid, strange accent.
Faith exhaled through her nose (never a good sign) and said something else – still in that same language. Then she and the non-dragon began to hold an animated conversation, until they stopped and Faith turned around and faced the various witches and wizards (but primarily Ron and Hermione).
“So,” she said instead of an explanation, “how much do you know about the works of Paracelsus?”
“’Mione!” Ron howled. “Who is she talking about?”
“Paracelsus,” Hermione explained, “was the wizard who had truly unlocked the elemental magics to the wizarding world – are you saying that these creatures have come from there?”
“Yes,” Faith nodded, “and they’re invoking some sort of a treaty from 55 B.C. claiming political refuge. Rings a bell?”
“Oh dear.” If Hermione was Giles, she’d be rubbing her spectacles now, but she wasn’t, so she didn’t. “In that year the wizarding world made a law that permitted all sorts of sentient magical creatures to seek a political refuge within their world – the giants, the centaurs, the satyrs... Are you saying that they want in as well?”
“Yes, at least for a while,” Faith nodded, looking rather embarrassed for once. “There are thirty-six of them to begin with, but soon it’ll be their time to breed, so expect their number to be dou-bled or tripled soon.”
“So, we’ve got magical creatures in need of a home?” Ron Weasley suddenly had his bright idea for the month. “Let’s take them to Hogwarts’ Forbidden Forest!”
“You do that,” Faith nodded serenely, “but make sure to send them to a part that has plenty of water, sea or fresh. Draco, can you handle the paperwork in the ministry while Weasley settles them in?”
“On it,” Draco nodded and apparated.
“Splendid,” Faith turned around looked Luna in the eye. “Do you have any tinfoil hats on you?”
“Do I ever!” Luna replied grandly as she pulled out several and put one on herself. “How do I look?”
“Considering that these are going to be the only means of preventing a Dharath from mind-screwing us? Like yourself,” Faith turned and beckoned the other two Slayers to her.
“What do you mean?” Genevieve asked straightaway and Faith responded – by pointing to the mouth of Thames, where a figure dressed in some outlandish robes was rising from the waters, bearing a stuff with large gem-like crystal at its end.
“Hmm. Is it a wizard or a demon?” Luna was busy writing things down as if this was an everyday occurrence for her. (Considering that she was Luna and had fought against Voldemort, maybe it was.)
“It’s a sorcerer, Luna, an inhuman one,” Faith muttered through her lips before half-turning around and facing the sorcerer in question. “Hello. How may we help you?”
And the Dharath replied:
“I’m hungry.”* * *
“...And then, before I could even think properly,” Genevieve told Draco on their non-date, “I asked: ‘So how many sheep will it take for you to be sated?’ The Dharath just gave us all a look and asked: ‘How many do you have?’ And it all went smoothly from there.”
“And how many sheep did it take?” Draco didn’t miss out on the absent detail.
“Eight or ten – who’s counting?” Genevieve replied nonchalantly. “You can read it in the Quibbler as soon as Mr. Lovegood publishes Luna’s article. So, what about these, these-“
“Drakes,” Draco said thoughtfully. “Their proper name is drakes. Water drakes to be more precise. They currently inhabit the Forest’s various lakes and rivers, you know?”
“Not the great lake?”
“No, the giant squid’s making them nervous. It makes me nervous too, and I’m not a water drake.”
“No, you’re just Draco – my Draco,” Genevieve giggled and the pair just watched the drakes wheel and fly over the Forbidden Forest.