Harry Potter: Dragon Whisperer

Believe It Or Not

Disclaimer – I solemnly swear that JKR owns everything Harry Potter. Whether or not I am up to no good with her characters is for you to decide.

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Harry Potter: Dragon Whisperer

Chapter 21 – Believe It Or Not

8:20am

Sunday, 21 August 1995

Longbottom Manor, Birsay, England

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The morning tea had been poured and all-but drunk and the bowls of porridge nearly finished before the tapping on the nearby window occurred. It was slightly later than normal and Neville had begun to wonder when the owl would come. He'd begun dawdling over his porridge, taking the tiniest of mouthfuls at a time. It wasn't that he needed to, or because he wasn't hungry, for he was – a couple of hours out working in the greenhouse before breakfast always built up an appetite.

No, the reason for his slowness was that owl. His grandmother expected that he would see to it of a morning when he was home from Hogwarts. And until it had arrived and delivered its burden, he wasn't free to leave the table.

"Ah, the Daily Prophet is finally here," his grandmother said. "Neville, if you would?"

"Of course, Grandmother," he replied as he rose from his chair.

He quickstepped across to the appropriate window before throwing it open. Instantly, the owl hopped inside, eyed him up and down and promptly raised its foot. Obediently, Neville untied the paper, dropped the appropriate amount of knuts into the leather pouch, offered the owl a treat and closed the window behind it.

"Your paper, Grandmother," he said, handing it to her.

The instant that he'd retaken his seat, his spoon was scraping the bottom of his bowl, searching out the last morsel of porridge. Quickly, he gulped down the last of his juice and placed the cup back on its saucer.

"May I please be excused, Grandmother?" he asked.

"What are your plans today, Neville?" she asked.

Neville blinked at her, but she'd already given permission, albeit the day before yesterday.

"I'm meeting up with Susan, Hermione and Hannah," he said. "We're going to Diagon Alley to get our school supplies. Madam Bones is accompanying us."

"Of course. Give my regards to Amelia, won't you?"

"Yes, Grandmother," Neville replied.

A short nod of her head was enough to have Neville bouncing out of his chair. The rustle of the paper barely registered as he crossed the room.

"Neville!" his grandmother's sharp voice called, stopping him in the doorway. "I think you will want to see this."

Obediently and deliberately not sighing, Neville reversed course. The newspaper was placed flat on the table, bowl and saucer pushed to one side. His eyes quickly scanned the pages before coming to rest on a long, thin column on the right-hand page.

One of Harry's columns, Neville realised, not even realising that he was smiling. His smile, though, quickly vanished as the animated photograph registered.

"What is that?" he asked, revolted.

The animal was unlike anything that Neville had ever seen or heard about before. It paced backwards and forwards inside a cage, occasionally showing its long, pointed teeth in what Neville imaged must be a roar. The animal was skeletal thin and had – he leant as close to the paper as he could to be sure – webbed feet.