James Potter and the Crimson Thread

by G. Norman Lippert

  Dragon…” Ralph paused and looked up. “We’re sure he means Norberta here, right?”

  “No other dragons in the mountain tribes,” Hagrid said. “He’s got to mean good old Norberta. She was their weddin’ gift, if yeh recall.

  I’d loved t’ have kept ‘er myself, but it’s nice knowing she’s still in th’ family, at least.”

  Ralph nodded and frowned back down at the letter. “Norberta smells a different dragon on the wind. She is excited and hard to control. Her desire for the male dragon of her kind makes her disobey the command of the giants who love and keep her. She leaves her cave home to go find the male dragon, but Grawp and Prechka, with the help of the tribe, even the king, bring her back. Soon, she will go far enough and fast enough that they won’t catch her in time. She goes always south and east, bypassing the small man places, heading toward the Sea of Light.”

  James asked, “Who are the small men?”

  “All men are small compared to giants, silly,” Rose said. “But that’s not what it means. ‘Small man places’ means human villages.

  Norberta is going around little towns and such to get to the male dragon she smells.”

  “Oh,” James said, his brow furrowed. “So what’s the Sea of Light?”

  Hagrid answered in a thoughtful voice, “That’s the big man place. London town itself. Most giants have never been there, and won’t ever go, not even to bring back Norberta. It’s a mythic, frightenin’ place in their lore. To them, it’s just a huge ocean of lights shining up on the nighttime clouds.”

  Ralph grimaced in confusion. “But how could Norberta be smelling a male dragon from that far away?”

  “Gor’,” Hagrid said, sitting up slightly in his easy chair. “We covered that two years ago in class, din’t we? Dragon pheromones are th’ strongest in th’ whole animal world, so powerful an’ deep that humans can’t even smell ‘em. Same way our ears can’t hear a dog whistle. Dragons are known t’ seek each other over hunnerts of miles, across leagues of seas. It’s ‘ow they find love and make baby dragons.”

  “Oh, yeah. I remember that,” Ralph lied, scratching his head.

  “But there can’t be a male dragon in London, of all places, can there?”

  James’ eyes suddenly widened as a memory struck him.

  “Montague Python!” he said, grabbing the arm of the couch as he sat up straight. “Deirdre told me about him on the way up to the school at the start of term! Her parents took her to see a magical traveling circus and there was a male dragon in the show. She said they’d be setting up in Diagon Alley soon enough. It must be Montague that Norberta smells.”

  “Aye,” Hagrid said sadly. “Poor girl’s just missing dragonish comp’ny. She wants what any living thing wants. To love and be loved back. Why, her poor huge heart must be breakin’ from bein’ able t’ smell another dragon and not being allowed to get to ‘im.”

  After a moment of ruminating silence, Rose prodded, “Go on, Ralph.”

  Ralph nodded and continued, reading studiously. “They say they will all try to keep Norberta safe. But the tribe is busy with bigger worries. The human places reach out to the giant places more all the time. Unrest fills the air as men can be seen crossing boundaries never before crossed. Sometimes the men come to hunt. Sometimes to explore. Deeper and further they travel, often in their roaring metal beasts. Er, he must mean trucks and off-road vehicles, I assume,” Ralph shrugged without looking up. “Some tribes prepare for war with the men, and plan to fight to keep their place. Grawp and Prechka’s tribe will not fight against the humans, though. The king of their tribe says they will go away, find new mountains farther north, beyond the big coasts. But Grawp and Prechka don’t want to travel to new mountains.

  They want to come…” Ralph’s face blanched and his eyes widened.

  “They want to come here, to Hogwarts. They believe it’s the safest place. They remember their cave in the Forbidden Forest, and want to live there again.”

  “They can’t be serious,” James said, surprised. “That’s, like, hundreds of miles away. There’s no such thing as giant trains or planes.

  They’d get lost for sure.”

  “Nah,” Hagrid said, reaching forward on his chair to poke at the hearth with the metal tip of his umbrella, flaring the coals to light again.

  “Giants is dead smart with directions. Yeh know that. It’s like a sixth sense they ‘ave. Once they’ve been a place, they can always find their way back to it again. That’s th’ way they find their ways around the mountains, from cave t’ cave and peak t’ peak.”

  Rose looked from Hagrid to James, her face alarmed. “But that would have them walking the whole way themselves, through loads of Muggle villages and towns, right out in the open! They’d be seen for sure!”

  “It’ll never ‘appen,” Hagrid said, leaning back into his easy chair again, wrenching a long creak from its innards. “Grawpie would never take such a chance. I ‘spect he’s just missing his ol’ home here in the Forbidden Forest is all, talkin’ about it all wistful like, the way some people talk about the olden days. Giant language is tricky with concepts like the past. The real problem is poor Norberta.”

  “Hold on a sec,” Ralph said, lowering the finished letter and cocking his head. “Two giants say they’re planning to waltz across hundreds of miles of Muggle land to come to Hogwarts, possibly bringing loads of Muggles following along with them out of pure amazement, and you say that’s no big deal?”

  “I say it’ll never ‘appen,” Hagrid waved a ham-like hand.

  “Things may be getting’ tetchy in the mountains, but we’re nowhere near that point yet. Grawpie’s smarter ‘n that.”

  James grimaced and widened his eyes. “I remember Grawp pretty well myself. Lovable enormous bloke he may be, but ‘smart’ isn’t the first word that comes to mind.”

  “Yer all missin’ the point,” Hagrid said with a huge sigh, staring glassily into the low fire. James glanced back at the half-giant, who hiccupped and sniffed deeply. “Poor li’l Norberta’s all alone. She needs companionship, she does. She’s not tryin’ to be bad. She’s just doin’ what nature and ‘er own dragonish heart demands of ‘er. We’ve gotta help ‘er, we do.”

  “No, Hagrid,” Rose said, mustering her mother’s firm, implacable voice. “Hagrid,” she said the professor’s voice again, commanding his attention. “What are you thinking about doing?”

  Hagrid blinked aside at Rose as if snapping out of a deep reverie.

  “Hmm? What? Oh, nothin’. Nary a thing. I’m jus’ thinkin’ of poor Norberta.”

  “That’s what we’re worried about, I think,” Ralph sighed.

  “Hagrid,” James said, tilting his head at the big man. “We can’t have Norberta tramping off into London in search of a trained circus dragon. You know that, right? It’s bad enough thinking about Grawp and Prechka stomping through Muggle villages on their way to Hogwarts. A dragon sniffing around London would be completely disastrous.”

  “Catastrophic,” Rose agreed meaningfully.

  “But,” Hagrid protested, narrowing his eyes. James could almost see the wheels spinning inside the professor’s shaggy head. “But, she’s got needs, she does. I’m not sayin’ Grawpie and Prechka should set her loose to run rampant through th’ city looking for this performin’ dragon. But maybe there’s a better way. And then, when there was a new dragon egg, I could ‘atch it myself! Yeh three could help! It’d be jus’ like old times!” His beetle-black eyes nearly sparked with anticipation.

  “No more dragon eggs!” Ralph declared, glancing rapidly from Rose to James as if for support. “I mean, right? That’s perfectly daft from every direction!”

  “Ah, yer right, yer right,” Hagrid deflated reluctantly. He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, still staring into the fire.

  “But like I say, maybe there’s a better way. A way that’ll keep Norberta from gallivantin’ off unsupervised into London while also givin’ ‘er what nature demands. But I
’ll need help. Yeh three would come along, wouldn’ yeh? After all, yeh’ve come this far already, translatin’ the letter an’ all. Yeh’ve earned it.”

  “You make it sound like it’d be a sort of happy holiday,” Ralph shook his head wonderingly.

  James tried to imagine what Hagrid was planning. “Ralph’s got a point. This won’t be some half-crazy, potentially dangerous, completely unworkable scheme that will land us all either in Azkaban or dead, will it?”

  “O’ course not,” Hagrid shot him a reproachful look that James could clearly see through.

  Rose shrugged. “I’m in.”

  Ralph boggled at her, his eyes wide with betrayed surprise.

  “Of course I’m in,” she repeated to him firmly. “And you are, too! If it keeps Norberta out of the city, then it’s our obligation as citizens of the magical world.”

  Ralph’s eyes bulged even more. “You’re as nutters as he is,” he pointed at Hagrid. Rose merely shrugged.

  “My uncle Charlie works with dragons in Romania,” James suggested. “I bet if we could somehow get Norberta to him, he’d know how to introduce her to a real male dragon, not some tamed, performing giant snake named Montague Python.” He rolled his eyes.

  Hagrid was nodding vigorously, leaning forward in his chair again. “At’s right! Charlie Weasley would know jus’ what to do! All we’d need to do is get Norberta to ‘im!”

  “Oh, that’s all, eh?” Ralph said with mock relief. “All we need to do is transport a five ton Norwegian Ridgeback across international borders while keeping her secret from both the Muggle world, who would faint in droves at the mere sight of her, and the magical authorities, who would arrest us on sight for transporting an illegal beast and endangering the Vow of Secrecy.”

  Rose shrugged and suppressed a smile. “You make it sound so easy, Ralph.”

  “It’d be one thing if she could fly,” James mused. “One of us could just ride her. But her wing’s never fully healed, right Hagrid?”

  “Over land is the only way,” Hagrid nodded, grimacing at the thought of the dragon’s handicap. His eyes sharpened as a thought struck him. “Over land or…”

  “Or what?” Ralph clarified skeptically.

  “Er, nothin’,” Hagrid said, suddenly pushing to his feet.

  “Nothin’ at all. Ferget I said anythin’. For now, it’s late. I should’a sent yeh three back to yer dormitories hours ago. What kind o’ teacher am I?

  A ruddy irresponsible one, t’ keep yeh out like this.” But he was merely babbling. James could tell that the big man was caught in the unaccustomed grip of an idea. The mad glint in his eyes was almost comically intent. James half-expected steam to burst from Hagrid’s ears.

  “You won’t do anything stupid without us, will you?” Rose asked, shrugging into her coat as Hagrid virtually broomed them from the hut.

  “Don’t listen to her,” Ralph countered. “Feel free to do all the stupid things you want without us.”

  “G’night, yeh three!” Hagrid bid them, smiling tightly through his bristly beard. “Straight back to th’ castle with yeh now. No lollygaggin’.”

  A moment later, the door boomed shut, closing off the glow of the hut. The warmth of it still surrounded the three students, but James could feel it tattering away in the snow-flecked wind.

  “Come on,” he shrugged. “He’ll call on us when he needs us.”

  Ralph shook his head as they started their tramp toward the wintry-frosted castle. “You make it sound like you’re looking forward to it.”

  “You don’t have to come along when the time comes, Ralph,”

  Rose said primly.

  “You’d think that, wouldn’t you?” Ralph moaned in a terse voice. “But I know how these things go. I’ll end up getting sucked along anyway, somehow. I always do. And James will end up needing my wand for some reason because he lost his or broke it somehow. Or there will be some task that only I can do because, I don’t know, I’m the right height, or the rest of you are in mortal danger, or busy battling mythical beasts of terror or something.”

  “And that seriously makes you not want to come?” James grinned.

  “It won’t be like that this time,” Rose said firmly as they shuffled into the courtyard, kicking snowy powder before them. “It’s a simple enough job. Uncle Charlie will know exactly what to do. All we have to do is get Norberta to him.”

  “Ah, I know all about simple, easy, totally safe jobs with you lot,” Ralph sighed dourly. “Turns out they never are.”

  James didn’t say so, but he expected that Ralph was more right than even Rose was willing to admit.

  11. – Blackbrier quoit

  No word came from Hagrid before the Christmas holidays, leaving James free to attend to his packing and planning and general trepidation about his trip with Millie. He remembered to bring his dress robes and secretly dreaded having to wear them. He thought about being alone with Millie outside of school and felt both nervous and feverishly excited about the prospect. Would they be unsupervised a lot of the time? Or even more supervised than they were at school? What would her parents and family be like? Millie had attempted to describe them and warn him of certain eccentricities, but he hadn’t absorbed much of it. The only thing he understood for certain, based on her descriptions, was that the Vandergriffs had a much different lifestyle than any James had ever encountered. Scorpius had summed it up when he had described them as “old magic”, although James had only the vaguest idea of what that meant.

  The train ride back to London was typically raucous, the compartments filled with happy students, the corridors decorated with pine boughs, colourful enchanted light globes, and foot-long candy canes. The cart lady’s wares consisted entirely of holiday cookies, miniature mincemeat pies, sugar snowballs, cocoa cockroaches, and pepper-imp snaps. Millie bought several of everything and distributed them to the crowded compartment they shared. James accepted a palm-sized mince pie with a sheepish smile. He barely knew any of the people crammed into the compartment, most of them being Millie’s friends, her fellow Hufflepuffs, although a few were at least familiar faces from Night Quidditch. For their part, they seemed to accept James as one of their own, based solely on his connection to Millie.

  She sat next to him, hip to hip, holding hands, bouncing excitedly with the conversation. Outside the window, the winter sun descended over pristine white fields, snow-decked forests, and mountains dim and hazy with distance. The light turned dusky and purple and the shadows grew long. Eventually, the lanterns of the Hogwarts Express lit themselves with soft popping sounds, bathing the entire train in golden light, and James knew that the journey was very nearly over.

  A pang of trepidation came over him as he remembered that, with their arrival at Platform Nine and Three Quarters, the familiar part of the holiday would be over. Suddenly, he missed the comfortable banality of the Burrow, the gingerbready smell of his mother’s frantic baking and the warmth of Grandma Weasley’s hugs, the homely live spruce Christmas tree decorated with beloved family ornaments and the bullfrog croaking voice of Kreacher.

  Kreacher, at least, he didn’t have to miss very much. He had just seen the ancient house elf only the morning before, awaking to his patiently grave stare and drooping watery eyes as the elf stood on the foot of his bed, a stack of wrapped presents at his feet.

  James had decided that he couldn’t open the presents yet, despite Kreacher’s monotone holiday benediction.

  “It’s not Christmas yet,” James had said, yawning and stretching, his hair still prickling from the shock of waking under the elf’s unblinking glare. “I’ll open them when I get back. It’ll give me something to look forward to.”

  The elf had accepted this with stoic grimness, vanishing shortly thereafter with a snap of his bony fingers, leaving a scent of pine needles and peppermint in his wake.

  Now, as the train steamed slower and slower, the chug of the engine dropping from a staccato rhythm to a descending bass drum-beat, with the dark b
rick walls and chimneys of the city sweeping past the windows, James cursed himself for agreeing to go with Millie for the holiday. He knew now that he had mostly done it just to spite Albus and Lily. But now he felt that he was only punishing himself, and digging himself into a deeper hole with Millie, with whom he still intended to break up just as soon as the moment was right.

  If the moment was ever right.

  He scanned the crowd of waiting parents and families as the train slowed, hissed, and shimmy-rattled to a halt. He knew he wouldn’t see his own parents there. It had become tradition for he, Albus, Lily, Rose, and the rest to travel via Portkey directly to the Burrow. The enchanted Christmas sweater Portkey had arrived only a few days earlier, addressed to Albus and Lilly. James had seen it and acted disinterested—had even made a snide comment about how much fun he’d be having in the city instead. Albus hadn’t cared, but Lily had looked sincerely jealous, and James felt nastily gratified by that.

  The platform milled with people in coats and hats, scarves and boots, festively dusted with snow and watching bright-eyed as the travelers began to disembark. James saw Scorpius’ parents, Draco and Astoria, standing in long dark coats near the edge of the crowd, looking just as severe and haughty as always. Other vaguely familiar faces shone like moons in the lantern light. As James climbed down onto the cold footpath, he scanned the crowd for anyone who might be part of Millie’s family.

  For her own part, Millie made a huge show of saying goodbye to her friends, hugging them one by one, clasping their hands earnestly, as if she wouldn’t be seeing them again for months or years, rather than mere days. James tried not to feel impatient and forgotten.

  “So which one’s your mum or dad?” he finally asked when she joined him again.

  “Oh, mummy and daddy don’t meet us at the platform,” she said breezily, smoothing her hair and tugging her yellow gloves onto her hands.

  “Ah,” James frowned. “So… your grandma Eunace then?”

  “Grandmother Eunace!” Millie laughed and shook her head.