Characters, settings, and story relating to the Harry Potter series of novels are copyright J. K. Rowling, along with Bloomsbury Publishing, et al. “Spirit of Fear” is not an officially published work, nor is it in any cooperation with J. K. Rowling or Bloomsbury Publishing. “Spirit of Fear” is entirely (with the exclusion of the aforementioned characters, settings, and story) a work by Thomas Holman.

Chapter Seventeen

Impression

Chey never did manage to convince Minerva of Sirius Black’s innocence, though she did say she hoped (for Chey’s sanity) that Black would smarten up and escape the country. For the most part, Chey and Fleur avoided further conversation about escaped fugitives, innocent or otherwise.

They had found plenty of other topics to talk about over the following month. Chey had told her just about everything, save for his parents’ deaths and the letters he got every year around Christmas. He had no problem, however, relating his work at the dragon reservation.

“I think you’d like Chuck if you met him,” Chey said to her one day when they were on the subject.

“Is he anything like you?”

“Nah, he’s a lot more mellow.”

“Then I would find him boring.” Chey couldn’t help but admire her wit.

“What, not even the dragons he works with?”

“Only if he can wrestle them to the ground with his bare hands.”

“I’ve never known Chuck to do that.”

“Then that’s that.”

“It’s not that Chuck’s completely boring, it’s just that you know me, and therefore you have a high standard for what qualifies as ‘interesting.’”

She admired him for a moment, and said “How do you come up with things like that to say?”

Chey thought it over a second, then came up with an answer he was satisfied with. “When I was in Colorado, a friend of mine was really into trivia, and he read once that the average human only uses ten percent of the brain at any time, and together we figured that I use ninety percent of my brain, only it’s the ninety percent that wouldn’t normally be used.” She looked at him, slightly confused. “It’s just a theory we had. No idea how true it might be.”

“It makes sense now. Only you could come up with something like that.”

“I guess there might be one or two other people in the world who could imagine something that bizzare, but the odds of us meeting them are slim to none.”

Chey always prided himself on being unique. Every time someone told him they’d never met anyone quite like him, he felt a sense of accomplishment.

By the end of November, after a month of lessons, Fleur was able to create a rabbit that could walk around the room, albeit it had no fur and failed to knock over the flower vase, merely passing through it like a ghost. She was disheartened, but Chey assured her that illusions with hair and physical properties were far beyond her level, perhaps by another year or two.

“You’ll get it,” he said after this particular session. “Just takes work.”

“I know. Listen, what are you doing for Christmas?” she asked, quite out of the blue.

“Why?”

“If you have plans, I won’t bother.”

“Well, I was going to spend it in Romania and possibly be tricked into spending it with my aunt in England. What’s your idea?”

“My family is going skiing in the French Alps.”

“And you need me to take out the recyclables?”

“No,” she said with a small laugh.

“I see, you got one of your neighbors to-”

“I wanted to invite you.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Your parents are cool with it?”

“No, I’m sneaking you into my suitcase,” she said quite sarcastically.

“Great idea! I’m gonna need air holes, though.”

“My mother told me I could invite a friend. I want to give her a bit of a shock and invite a boy.”

“I can shock her. I’ll make a snowman steal her skis.”

“You being there will be enough. You do know how to ski, right?”

“I snowboard. Try to keep up.”

“Just don’t get in my way.”

While admiring her quick remark, Chey had an idea.

“You want to see the reservation?”

“The what?”

“The dragon reservation in Romania. You wanna see it?”

“But what about those stories you told...”

“Odds are you won’t lose a leg at all. Come on! It’ll be fun! I can show you Old Ironbelly, Constance!”

“What?”

“Constance is the oldest Ukranian dragon in the world, so we call her Old Ironbelly. She’s as calm as can be, just sits there and waits for people to pet her.”

“And how did she get that name?”

“In the Massachusetts Bay, there’s an old warship, the USS Constitution, nicknamed Old Ironsides because cannonballs just bounced right off it’s hull. ‘Constance’ sounds kind of like ‘Constitution,’ so it just seemed a natural fit. I came up with it.”

“So you’ll be coming with us, then?” she said after staring at him silently for a moment.

“Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“And I’d love to come with you to Romania.”

Fleur made arrangements with her parents to meet at the school and head straight to the resort. Apparently, she had told them about Mayla the Opaleye, and her sister, Gabrielle, demanded the opportunity to see her.

“Chey, she’s been begging me,” Fleur explained the day before their arrival.

“I’m not sure,” he said.

“How often is she going to meet a creature as beautiful and calm as Mayla?”

Chey was hoping she wouldn’t resort to the pity routine. There was no way he could resist the sob story of a seven year old girl who’s only wish was to meet an Opaleye.

And so, the next day Chey and Fleur met her mother and younger sister in front of the school. Gabrielle was every bit as cute as Fleur described in her blue parka and white hat as she ran through the light covering of snow towards her sister. Without even introducing herself, she immediately asked “Where’s Mayla?” She was definitely they type of girl who knew what she wanted, very much like Fleur.

“She’s with the horses in the stables,” Chey said.

“Can we see her now?” she asked her sister impatiently.

“In a moment, Gabrielle, dear,” said their mother. “Just a moment.” She was definitely Fleur’s mother. They were so much alike it was spooky. Clearly a woman concerned with looking stylish, she would fit right in with high society in her fur-lined silver colored coat. Chey might have even mistaken her for one of his parents’ old acquaintances. “I want to have a talk with this young man.” She approached him, clearly hoping her younger daughter would not overhear. “What assurance do I have that the situation is safe?”

Chey grinned. “Would you like to see my Class Echo handler’s license?”

“Should I be impressed?”

“I should think so. Then again, my opinion is biased here.”

She smiled, seemingly convinced by his candid attitude, and relayed to Gabrielle that it was fine to visit Mayla.

Gabrielle was ecstatic, and squealed with delight upon seeing the beautiful Opaleye.

“May I pet her?” she asked excitedly, somewhat startling the horses.

“Absolutely,” Chey said. “Hey, you want a ride?”

Her eyes lit up immediately, then looked to her mother, whose eyes widened in shock.

“W-what?” she stumbled slightly.

“Mother, it’s perfectly safe,” Fleur explained. “I’ve ridden on her before.” Chey was surprised that Fleur would lie to her mother like that, for Fleur had never ridden on Mayla before. “Chey will make certain she’ll never slip off.”

After contemplating Fleur’s reassurance and Gabrielle’s begging eyes, she conceded.

Chey led Mayla out of the stables, while the Delacours followed. He conjured a harness that would allow them to hold onto her better, and lifted young Gabrielle onto Mayla’s back, after which he pulled himself up just behind her. With warnings to hold on tight, Chey encouraged Mayla to get a running start.

All throughout the flight, Gabrielle was laughing, and it reminded Chey of his first flight. The feeling of the wind in his face and sense of freedom was overpowering, and every time Chey took to the air there was a hope that it would be just as exhilarating as the first. As they circled the castle, occasionally switching from high in the air to low to the ground, he wondered just how often people realized the sheer rush that could be had just by hopping on a dragon’s back.

They returned to the spot where they took off, though not before circling Fleur and her mother twice in a bit of showmanship.

“Please, Monsieur Chey,” Gabrielle said after returning Mayla to her place in the stables, “take me up again sometime.”

“I’ll see what I can arrange,” he told her, wisely avoiding to commit to anything. He’d had enough life experience to know that one should not make promises blindly, especially when indeterminable factors, such as overprotective mothers, were involved.

“And we’ll have to see about taking me up there one of these days,” Fleur whispered in his ear, careful not to let her mother hear, who, speaking of which, was approaching them.

“Thank you for giving her the ride, Chey,” she said.

“Any time, Madame,” he replied. “Oh, and thanks for inviting me to come with.”

“Not at all. But please, call me Apolline.”

“Apolline?”

“Yes. There’s no need to address me as ‘Madame Delacour’ for an entire week. You may as well call me by my first name.”

“You make a good point.”

Author's Note.

Come on! Don't tell me no one here's an RvB fan! Okay, here's a hint: it's in the beginning of Chapter Four, Travels, before he goes to Romania. I'm also extending this pointless contest to until the posting of Chapter Nineteen (yes, I know that skips Eighteen)

I'm aware this is kind of a slow chapter, but the next one needs a lead in, and I couldn't combine them because I had a specific vision for Eighteen. Yes, Eighteen is one I'm proud of, and there won't be an author's note for it.

As always, I appreciate your input. Keep up the comments (positive and constructive), and find that Red vs Blue reference in Chapter Four!