Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. To sum up, I don't own anything you'll recognize!

A/N : Thanks to my beta Sabrina for correcting this chapter

The Dragonmasters


A hooded person climbed on the highest hill of the area. You could see he was a fighter, everything from the way he walked to the way he carried himself he was showing it. Once he arrived at the top of the hill, he looked up at the night sky, staring closely at the stars, one in particular The Dragon Constellation. For a few minutes, nothing happened. The hooded stranger looked down, sighing heavily. Then suddenly he looked up, as if listening to an inaudible music. His stare was fixed on the constellation. Before his eyes they started to glow brighter and brighter. There was a flash and twelve beams of light were shot towards the earth.

The man smiled.

"Finally, they'll be soon here, we must prepare."

It had been two weeks since, Harry had come back from Hogwarts; two dull and boring weeks. The Dursleys had been ignoring him for the whole time, only speaking to him when it was absolutely necessary, meaning; when they ordered him to do something. As a result, Harry had already done all his homework and had started to memorize his textbooks, something which made him smile. (Hermione would be happy to hear that.) But the smile was quickly whipped off his face.

He had received a letter from Dumbledore two days after arriving at the Dursleys that told him that he couldn't communicate with anyone this summer. He was also told that he mustn't go to the Weasleys, with the rebirth of Voldemort, he had to stay at Privet Drive for the whole summer.

Since Dudley was still on diet, he wasn't eating a lot and this time he didn't have his friend's help. Fortunately he had taken some Muggle money with him and could buy some food from time to time. It was the only thing

which keep him going on, or else he would have been fainting with exhaustion. Indeed, the portion of food he was allowed to eat at meals was just enough for someone who didn't do nothing, but not for someone who had

to work. And he was being forced to work. The Dursleys had already made him clean the whole house, and the attic. He had to cook, go with his aunt to the supermarket to carry her bags. Now, he had been assigned at cleaning the garden, well if you could still call it a garden. It was more likely a small jungle. Harry was ready to bet nobody had put a foot in it during the whole year.

He was currently weeding it. He sighed heavily, whipping the sweat on his forehead and trying to ignore his dry throat. He had been in the garden for four hours and today the weather was hot and dry, the type of day during which you want to stay under a tree while sipping a refreshing drink or maybe eating a ice cream.

As he was pulling out a not so co-operating weed, he felt a sharp pain behind his neck, it lasted only a few seconds. He looked around and saw a bee flying away.

"Great," he muttered, "even the bugs are against me."

He put a hand on his neck, cringing when he touch the spot where the bee must have stung him. He was trying to feel if the bug had let its sting, he was relieved to feel nothing. Shrugging, he dismissed the event and went back to work.

The hooded stranger was back on the hill, but this time he was escorted by two other people and was carrying a silver orb. He pushed something on it and the orb opened, releasing a shadow.

"Yeartha kren'yr Drak. Boreth Daryns an'll whukas, hos tur Drak'yr crihjil


The shadow nodded and disappeared.

"They'll arrive today," announced the man to his companions.

For the following week, Harry continued to work in the garden. At the end of the week he had nearly finished his work there: he had cut the grass, weeded the whole area and planted new flowers here and there. All he had to do now was watering it.

His aunt, who had been watching him while cooking, for the past days to make sure he was working, opened the window and yelled.

"Boy! You'll have to paint the fence when you're done!"

Then she closed the window and went back to her kitchen. Harry sent a disgusted look her way. You could always rely on her to find him something to do.

Bracing himself he finished watering the flowers and went to take a paintbrush and some paint. The Dursley's had bought some brown paint. He started to work, careful not to drop anything on the ground. He was

half-way done when he started to have a light headache. He dismissed the feeling, he had been working for the whole afternoon in the sun, it was normal that he got a headache. But as time passed, it grew more and more

painful, especially behind his neck. The pain was now unbearable. His vision was blurred by his tears, his surroundings were spinning. He dropped the paintbrush to the ground, falling on his knees. Finally he passed out, the pain being too much to bear.

Harry slowly came back to his senses. His first feeling was that he wasn't lying on grass anymore. It looked like he was resting on a bed. His head was still hurting and didn't dare to open his eyes. Slowly he realized that

there were people in the room. They were talking.

"But how could this happen?!" This person was nearly hysterical.

"I don't know," replied a cold voice. "This has never happened before!"

"Could it be an error?"

"You saw the mark just like me, he has been chosen!"

"But, but, It's impossible! It can't be! A mere human can't be chosen!"

"Apparently it's possible, even if I doubt a human would be able to follow our training."

Harry could clearly hear the disgust and scorn in the way the second person pronounce the word 'human'.

"What are we going to do!"

"We'll give him a tour as soon as he wakes up as well as a few explanations, then we'll drop him in the choice room. Demenor will know what to do."

"You're sure, shouldn't we erase his memory and send him back to his world, he doesn't belong to our world!"

"We can't, he has the mark, he must be trained, even if I doubted he'll be able to do anything."


Harry slowly opened his eyes, looking around him. Apparently the two people weren't too keen on humans and he didn't look forwards talking with them.

"Finally you're awake." The cold voice said sharply.

Harry's vision was still a bit blurred. He blinked a few times and looked at the people next to him. His eyes widened in shock.

They were elves! The one with the cold voice was tall and muscular. He had shoulder-length black hair pulled in a ponytail and steel gray eyes. His companion was shorter with chestnut brown hair reaching his ears and hazel

eyes. Both had pointed shaped ears and a silver lock of hair.

The black-haired one sent him a hard look which confused Harry a bit, what

had he done to deserve it?

"Get up, human, we have a lot of thing to do, and no time to waste."

Harry obeyed immediately and followed them outside the room.


"Yeartha kren'yr Drak. Boreth Daryns an'll whukas, hos tur Drak'yr lyan'yr

crihjil vieth.": "Salutations Dragon's spirit. Bring the youths in our care,

for the Dragonmasters' history to go on."