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Praise The Elf And Pass The Turkey
By Spenser Hemmingway

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Category: Alternate Universe, Holidays, Post-DH/PM
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Ron Weasley
Genres: Action/Adventure, Humor
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG
Reviews: 3
Summary: Harry, Ginny and friends had long before been introduced to the American tradition of Thanksgiving. When the mood before one such feast becomes far too dour because of Ron and Harry’s absence, another special story may be in store. Can the meal be saved? Will the Wizards return home in time? Can Ginny find a roasting pan large enough for a rogue Scottish dragon? You can bet that pumpkin pie it will all work out…somehow.
Hitcount: Story Total: 5258



Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.





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Praise The Elf And Pass The Turkey

By Spenser Hemmingway


“I believe in everything until it's disproved. So I believe in fairies, the myths, dragons. It all exists, even if it's in your mind. Who's to say that dreams and nightmares aren't as real as the here and now?”–John Lennon.



“James and Nicholas…what did we tell you about snowmen in the kitchen?”

“Oh Mum!”

“Aunt Ginny, it’s too cold outside for him. See…he has a runny nose,” Nicholas accurately pointed out.

Novembers naturally are usually a little chilly in the Scottish Highlands, but this particular year, we were exceeding that privilege. It was getting to the point where I would get up in the morning to frozen coffee on a stick. I would have to climb inside the icebox just to warm up enough to eat breakfast. You could forget about taking a shower. We just took a bar of soap and rubbed ourselves down with snow. Our family owl Rocky was wearing a wool lined bomber’s jacket, his little aviator’s goggles were frosted over, and he spent his evenings playing gin rummy with the penguins in one of the spare bedrooms.

All right, maybe I was exaggerating a bit, but just a bit. Had that snowman there just sneezed? In any case, it was ruining the hardwood floors at the moment, and the two boys’ explanation wasn’t swaying Ginny. She was giving both of them one of those impressive silent stares that she had inherited from her mother Molly, and with equally effective results. Without another word, James and my son Nicholas each took a cold white arm and led their new friend back out the kitchen door and into the yard. I really thought that the pathetic look the snowman gave the rest of us was a somewhat overdramatic. After the door closed, Ginny waited a full five seconds before she burst out laughing at what had just happened.

“I suppose that we could find him an old scarf, some mittens, and replace Third-Cousin Elmo’s bowler hat with a woolen one,” Luna said then, and even after all those years I sometimes still had difficulty deciding if she was serious.

Regardless, Hermione and Ginny both smiled, but only for a moment. A strong gust of wind hit the house then, and it actually tried to shake the walls a bit. That was no slight feat. The Potter family’s Hogsmeade home, dubbed The Broom Farm long before, was elfin-built, and as rock-solid as the five-year-old fruitcake propping open my office door. When it had passed, Ginny wandered over to the rear window, and stared off over the snowy fields. A minute later Hermione joined her there, and she was sharing the same concerned expression.

I glanced in Luna’s direction, and saw she was thinking the same thing I was. The two wives were worried about Ron and Harry--concerned that they hadn’t returned yet. It was the worst possible time for the Ministry to announce the need to temporarily suspend the Floo Network, and to request only emergency Apparations. A special research and development coven, working near Stonehenge, had misapplied an exceptionally out of the ordinary (meaning unauthorized and powerful) spell they were trying to modify. The result was that most Wizarding travel in the British Isles was seriously disrupted. Even the Hogwarts Express and the Knight Bus’ northerly runs were down for the time being. The snow drifts were that severe. Winter didn’t officially begin for another month yet, but we were already experiencing the blizzard of the century.

Years before, Harry had declined the opportunity of becoming an Auror to instead establish a fledgling broom-building operation. He had eventually acquired the reputation of constructing some of the finest such creations in Europe. His shops in Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley were patronized by Witches and Wizards from all over the world. Only Harry’s strong desire to concentrate on quality first had prevented him from vastly expanding the business.

The morning before, Harry had unveiled his newest and one of his finest brooms, The Sky Slugger 3000. This model was unusual in that it was not meant so much for speed and maneuverability (although it certainly had both) as it was for sustained long-distance flight under harsh conditions. Harry had been inspired to create it after seeing similar brooms from the Canadian Arctic in use. He had wanted a product that could take a great deal of abuse from the elements, but could still do its job well, and bring the rider home in one piece.

Ginny had not appreciated Ron’s comments about their having perfect weather conditions for the Edinburgh demonstration. It did not help that the two brooms they were taking to the city were now the only practical means of travel there and back. Even worse was the fact that Harry and Ron were hours late in returning.

“Ginny, the turkeys smell wonderful. I believe that it may be time to place the pies in the upper oven though,” Luna told her. I knew she was trying to take Ginny’s mind off worrying, but she was also right. The kitchen was filled with all manner of incredible smells. It would require a supreme effort to wait until suppertime to cut into that bird.

“I suppose it is,” Ginny said, turning and smiling in appreciation for the distraction. She took a moment to examine and baste the turkey before moving to place pumpkin, apple, and moonberry pies inside to bake. In turn, Hermione went to the table to continue work on her fruit salad, and Luna to the cutting board and her crunchy green bean dish. I took the opportunity to slip out of the room, supposedly to check on the other children.

I was almost immediately tackled by two of Ron and Hermione’s sons chasing their triplet sisters down the main staircase. I was able to dive out of the way just in time, suffering only minor compound fractures and lacerations to three or four arteries as I landed. The five significantly slowed their progress toward the front door then, and I, in turn, gave them a quick inspection to ensure they were dressed warmly enough to go out.

I carefully moved into the family’s parlor then, wary of any more flying children, but attracted by the sound of the Wizard Wireless. A beautiful orchestral piece was playing there–-one which I remembered from one of Harry’s semi-biographical films. Harry and Ron’s respective sons, Albus and Angus, were playing a lively game of exploding snap at the table while my own daughter Jennifer sat on the Floor with young Lily entertaining her with a Raggedy Ann doll.

I had introduced Turkey Day to Harry, Ginny, and friends during the final year of the war. It had been a difficult time for all of them, and I correctly reasoned that it was exactly what they needed. Thanksgiving isn’t actually celebrated in England, except where you find the odd American living there such as in my case. To be honest, I had to shanghai our group the first time. As the years passed, however, it became a cherished annual event for us, and not just because of all that fantastic food.

At the end of the war, Professor McGonagall had also initiated the practice of encouraging a special school holiday as a day of remembrance and celebration. It loosely imitated our holiday, but this version had its own European flare. I don’t think my own mom ever considered a kidney pie side dish, or a kipper stuffing. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the short time off from school, and the whole experience would have been perfect if Harry and Ron had safely returned.

As the music faded away, the clock struck the top of the hour, and we heard the Wizarding news begin. The lead story was naturally the Floo/Apparation problems, which the Ministry assured all of us would soon be rectified. This was followed with a report on the cauldron futures market, a commercial for Waverly’s Wonderful Welsh-Roast Warthog in a can, a series of Quidditch scores, a human-interest story about an elderly lady’s Chihuahua fighting off a neighbor’s wildebeest, and, unfortunately, a very thorough account of Scotland’s current weather conditions. When the music returned the cheerful mood didn’t. The children were clearly nervous as well about the two absent Wizards.

“Okay kiddos and kiddettes, what’s with all the gloomy faces? It’s only Arctic weather. This stuff won’t slow your dads down for even a second; they’re having the time of their lives up there.” Maybe they had read too many of my stories, but none of them believed me if I interpreted their faces correctly. “Listen…along with Aunt Ginny, those two are a couple of the finest broom jockeys anywhere. They’re almost as good as I am.” Wrong thing to say; now they really didn’t believe me.

“Uncle Spenser…” Angus began to say.

“Hey, let me tell you all a little story…and I swear this one is absolutely true. No, it really is! Sheesh! This happened one February, years ago, just after a somewhat disastrous Valentine’s Day at Hogwarts. I’ll tell you about that one some other time. Anyway, Harry and Ginny took the opportunity one particular Saturday to take their brooms up into the mountains above the castle…”


*****



Ginny drove her broom straight down and didn’t bother to look over her shoulder for Harry. She knew exactly where he was somehow; she always did. To the casual observer the two would appear to be flying in tandem. The Gryffindors were, in fact, attached, but not physically. Harry and Ginny were in each other’s heads…intuitively, emotionally, on a magical level that neither could understand, even if they did appreciate it. In a way, they always had been, but neither realized it until that first kiss the year before.

In no other way had they experienced this link as they did when they were flying. During Quidditch, the maneuvers the two teammates executed were almost legendary. The dangerous impromptu stunts they performed appeared to be professionally choreographed. Only their need to keep their special relationship a secret prevented them from attempting (and then having to explain) even more daring feats.

That morning Ginny didn’t hesitate for a second to dive toward the ridgeline below her. She knew there was a wide ravine to its far side because Harry could see it. A hard snap to the left brought them straight into it, and, as Harry pulled up beside her then, his smile said that he was feeling the same thing she was. Down to just feet off the ground they went, dodging and twisting around trees and other vegetation, reveling in the experience of breakneck speed in flight.

I remember when Harry and Ginny told me about the day years later. They said it was certainly one of the most wonderful experiences they had ever shared. It was the ideal time. There was no war…no lizard-lips with his merry dance troupe…no worries, or responsibilities, or having to hide their being together. It was perfect. As we all know, this is always when something has to go wrong in the story.

Perhaps three hundred yards below the top of the narrow valley the landscape thinned significantly, and the two saw a great number of fallen trees below them. They both noted, by the relatively light dusting of snow on them, that they must have come down fairly recently. At this point, they were more curious then cautious, and slowed their brooms to have a better look. Ginny was the first to see the strange figure laid out on the ground not far ahead. Neither saw, but rather just felt it as they slammed into an invisible wall at thirty miles per hour.


*****



“Boy those turkeys sure smell great! I wonder if it would be worth it to try to sneak a small bite.”

“Not if you value your fingers Dad,” Jennifer admonished, and with the same stern yet serene expression her mother could always project when needed. “Remember what Aunt Ginny did to Uncle Ron last Christmas Eve? We were to seconds with supper before she rid him of those turtle fins for hands. He had a horrible time picking up his fork.”

“Besides, you’re not far enough into the story to be throwing a cliff-hanger at us,” Angus added.

“Oh that? Uhm, Harry and Ginny’s airbags deployed, and they collected a bundle in flight insurance. I’m sure the girls would let me taste-test those yams.”

“No, I’m afraid we wouldn’t. Spenser, you promised to peal all those potatoes. Hermione really needs them now.” Yes, Luna’s patented look was identical to Jennifer’s at the moment. “She’s already a bit put out about the lumps in the beavertail and turnip gravy. It was my great grandmother’s specialty, but the woman always insisted that you could only make it properly with Amazonian yellow tree frog sweat.”

“Great Gadfrey! The sacrifices I make for a holiday meal. All right Luna; you get to take over the story from where I left off. I was just getting to the part where…”

“I was listening at the door Spenser. Now scoot.”

I was only out of the room for a few seconds when Angus first noticed, and then commented on, his adopted aunt’s suddenly distracted look. He naturally assumed that she was concerned then as well about Ron and Harry. Jennifer knew better.

“Mum…Dad’s just a bit absent-minded at times,” she told her mother.

“Yes, I’m afraid that he can be,” Luna said, smiling then. “Angus, Albus…Uncle Spenser is correct. Your fathers are perfectly fine and exceptionally capable. This story is a very good one as well. Now let me see. Harry and Ginny had just hit something invisible with their brooms. I really don’t believe that the part about their having had airbags. I’m not even sure what those are.”


*****



It was an excellent thing that the two flyers had been traveling at a lower altitude and a much slower speed. The barrier they hit was also not so solid as it was simply…imposing. It seemed to be very much like a magical ward. Yes, that is exactly what it was. A magical ward set in place to protect something, or rather someone. Harry and Ginny landed hard, but February’s remaining snow greatly cushioned their impact, and a quick examination seemed to reveal nothing more than a few bumps and bruises. At worst, they merely had the wind knocked out of them.

“What do you suppose it was?” Harry asked before Ginny could. She shook her head in lieu of a true reply. He took a step forward toward where he knew it to be, but waving his hand, he found nothing physically blocking him. “I don’t understand. We weren’t knocked down by a strong wind. It had to be magic, but is it gone?”

“I don’t think…” Ginny pulled out her wand and activated its Lumos function, and then walked toward the ward herself. As she suspected, the moment she crossed that line the light faded away. Harry joined her there and together they attempted a number of spells, none of which were successful.

“Ginny, we seem to have stumbled into a magic-dampening zone. Why would that be here in the Scottish Highlands?”

“Could it be Dark magic? Hold on…what was that we saw on the ground up ahead?”

Before Harry could stop her, Ginny was running forward for some reason with her now useless wand still raised. As he started to follow, Harry noticed his left thigh was hurting more than he had originally believed. He imagined the large bruise that was surely going to be there, as well as how stiff the leg would soon be. Several yards ahead Ginny came to an abrupt stop. Harry at first thought that it was to allow him to catch up, but then he spotted what she had. There, beside one of the fallen trees, lay a young girl dressed in fine forest green robes. No, it wasn’t just a girl, they instantly realized.

“Crikey Ginny! That’s an elf…that’s a forest elf! I’ve heard about them, but no one I know has ever seen one.”

“My brother Charlie has. They are very strong advocates for the preservation of dragons, despite the elves historically being a favorite meal for the creatures. Oh no Harry…you don’t suppose…?”

Harry scanned the landscape around them. Yes, that made perfect sense. He wished it didn’t. They had another dragon somewhere about, and this wasn’t a Scottish snow-snorter like the one the Muggle Steve Irwin had recent ridden there. All at once Harry had a very bad feeling. It had to wait though.

Taking Ginny’s hand, he carefully approached the fallen elf, and saw it was indeed a girl, and that her leg was pinned under a tree perhaps a foot in diameter. Two large stones on either side prevented it from crushing the limb, but it was obvious that she was trapped there. Ginny knelt down beside her, and carefully pulling back her hood, noted the dried blood on the side of her head. This told them that she had been there long enough for it to coagulate. Her pulse was steady, but weak, and her skin was cold to the touch.

“Harry, I think she’s going into shock if she hasn’t already. I don’t know anything about elfin medicine, but the forest variety is much, much closer to humans than are house-elves, or even Christmas elves.”

“We need to free her from there then, get her warm and…I wonder. Ginny, you don’t suppose that she is somehow creating the magic-dampening ward; some manner of defense mechanism?”

“That has to be it Harry. This isn’t like those that have been set in place about the Burrow and Hogwarts. I know they are very specific and difficult to initiate. I imagine that we’ll both receive detention for leaving the school’s protection today without permission.” A condition of Harry’s returning to school for his seventh year was that they could leave the grounds when needed to carry out a secret project against Voldemort. A romantic broom flight hardly qualified.

Harry knelt down beside the injured girl, and, removing them, placed his school scarf carefully under the head and his heavy flight robes over her body. He touched her cheek then, not so much to confirm Ginny’s examination as to stimulate his thought process. How could they remove the tree there? Even if his wand were functional, he wasn’t sure he knew the correct spell to either banish or levitate something so large. He made a mental note to learn to conjure a block and tackle. No wait! There was something that he did know how to produce.

“Ginny, I need you to position yourself, so you can quickly pull the elf girl loose. You’ll see when to do it.”

Harry scanned the area around them and blessed his luck when he saw he had a clear path to his right from the edge of the deadening zone. It took him a full minute to climb up that slope with his now-stiff leg and several attempts with his wand to confirm he was free of it. A quick examination allowed him to find just the right downed log–-a sapling perhaps six feet in length and two inches in width.

“Convertum Sabertene!” he shouted while whipping his wand up-and-down the fallen tree. A spiral swirl of light enveloped the wood, and, a heartbeat later, it formed into a long, crude sword. Harry smiled that his well-practiced transfiguration had once again been successful. You couldn’t always rely on a phoenix and a Sorting Hat to deliver a sword for you.

Picking it up, he was surprised that, despite its size, it weighed no more than his wand did. The blade, he knew, was razor sharp and unbreakable, but there was no way to determine how long it would remain so inside the magic-sapping area.

Raising the broadsword over his head, he ran downhill as fast as his leg allowed, shouting to Ginny to get ready. At the fallen tree, Harry didn’t hesitate; bringing the enchanted blade down to one side, and instantly splitting the tree in two.

He could feel the magic leaving the sword however, and risked tripping over the elf in his haste to chop at the other side. He could tell with the first stroke that he was out of time, and the second did little or nothing. The blade in his hand reverted to brittle wood and simply shattered as it hit the log a third time. Harry straddled the tree then, braced himself and lifted. The pain in his leg quadrupled, but he somehow felt he had done enough work to allow the log to move somewhat. Without a spoken word, Ginny knew exactly when to pull back under the elf’s shoulders thus freeing her.

Replacing the makeshift pillow and cloak blanket, Harry and Ginny carefully reexamined the girl for additional injuries. The position of the leg told them it was broken, but not badly. The stones that had held the tree up had prevented that. As they stood again, Harry initiated a long hug with Ginny, drawing on her strength, and sharing his own with her in return.

“Do you know why I love you so much Harry?”

“My brutally handsome good looks?”

“No, I…well actually, that is a rather large part of it come to think of it. What I meant to say now though was that you and I are such a wonderful team. I hate how we can’t tell anyone!”

“Voldemort may already know you’re my lady love, but there is still no need to advertise it. You’d look awful walking around with a potential hostage sign draped around your neck.”

“That bloody git! Now Harry we need to build a fire for the elf…quickly!”

“I know. It looks as if there may be enough dry wood about. I’ll walk…limp back outside the dampening ward and light a makeshift torch for it. Fire is an elemental, and I strongly doubt that the elf’s magic will be able to extinguish it.”

Ginny nodded in agreement. “Then what do we do Harry? We can’t Apparate with the girl or carry her on a broom.” Just then the snow began to fall about them, and they knew this was a bad thing. “Harry, I know I could find the lake from the air and follow it to the castle, but I don’t believe I would be able to find this particular ravine again.”

“Then there’s the possibility that there may still be an extremely large and hungry dragon hereabouts. Neither Charlie nor our new Australian friend are in country at the moment.”

“I think we’re in trouble Harry.” The forest elf girl softly moaned then causing them to look down at her.

“I know we are Ginny. What else is new?”


*****



I had just finished pealing the last of the potatoes when the owl slammed into the kitchen window. Wizard owls live incredibly long lives. Merlin’s was supposedly still working at Disney Studios. Regardless of that standard, the Weasleys’ Errol was far too old and feeble to be out in those near-whiteout conditions. I jumped to my feet, but Ginny was faster, and instantly had the door thrown open. The sudden gust almost took it out of her hand, and the bird was thrown inside more than he flew.

“Rocky! What are you doing here?” Ginny asked Luna’s and my owl for all of us.

“Yeah, I thought that you were back at our cottage curled up with a hot water bottle and that stack of classic Howard the Duck comic books,” I told him.

I pulled the bird’s goggles up, so he could see us better. No, we never have discovered where he obtained the flight cap–-perhaps from the flying squirrel he was named for. I also knew the little guy was the best foul weather (pun intended) flyer any of us had ever seen.

“He has a message attached to his leg,” Hermione pointed out. Rocky allowed her to retrieve it, remembering that she was family. “It’s for you Ginny. It’s from Harry!” She carefully handed the small wet parchment to her sister-in-law and mumbled something about the benefits of waterproof ink.

“Harry and Ron have safely made it to Sweet Haven on the firth. They’re not sure they can make it the last several miles home in this weather. It’s just too blinding out there. I’m amazed that the owl got this through to us. Rocky, what were you doing in Sweet Haven?” Ginny asked the bird.

“Hoot…who, who, hooty whom! [Insert an owl’s imitation of a wolf whistle].”

“He says that he was visiting his lady owl friend Lola La Hoot there,” Luna translated. I hadn’t seen her come into the kitchen. All three families’ children were there with her and all sharing the same anxious expression. She turned then and motioned for them to follow her back into the parlor area.

“Spenser, there’s a postscript here for you. Harry is asking if you remembered” Ginny quickly added. “Remembered what?”

“Oh feldercarb! Uhm…that tomorrow is garbage day. Yeah, that’s it. Girls, I’ll go fetch your husbands now.”

“Are you insane Spenser? Actually, I mean are you crazier than normal? You can’t even see the barn across the yard now, and you’re going to fly a broom twenty miles to Sweet Haven?” Hermione asked/yelled.

“I think the kids would have a fit if Ginny went.”

“Luna will if you do,” Hermione truthfully pointed out.

“Let’s hold off telling her until I’m gone, why don’t we? Listen, the broom Harry built me is almost as good in this stuff as those Arctic models they’re flying. Besides, I have a great, wonderful idea…and, well…I need to make a quick stop somewhere. I’ll explain later.”

“Spenser!” they both said together.

“Trust me. Have I ever failed you…at least when it was as important as a turkey dinner?

“Uhm…no, I guess not,” Ginny cautiously offered.

“Great. Now you two just slip off to hear the rest of our story and leave everything to me.”

“Not until you leave Spenser. We don’t trust you in the kitchen here alone with the pies.” Ginny gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “Good luck, and please be careful.”

Hermione delivered a corresponding hug, but then a stern look that silently cautioned me to not take chances.

“Come on Rocky. I’m going to need you for this stunt.”

“Hooty who?”

“No, we won’t have time to stop in and see Lola.”


*****



Harry and Ginny huddled close to the elf, to each other and to the small fire that they had somehow managed to keep lit for those two hours. The girl still hadn’t regained consciousness, and they knew that they had to get her to help and soon. The makeshift shelter they had fashioned had blown down twice and spending the night in the mountains was inconceivable.

Harry had gathered a number of branches and briar vines that he had stripped of thorns outside the dampening zone. Using the brooms as a framework of sorts, he and Ginny worked to weave an improvised stretcher to transport her. Neither understood how she had placed the ward in place, but until the elf awoke, and could remove it, they had few options. The only plan they could arrive at was to move the girl to familiar ground from where one of them could move off and Apparate to Hogwarts for help. The freak late winter blizzard made flying too dangerous now, and repeated attempts to send up flares from outside the dampening were completely ineffective.

“I think this will hold her now Harry. Which direction did you want to travel?”

Harry thought it over again, but he had already made up his mind. “Uphill I think Ginny.”

Harry wasn’t at all surprised when she nodded in agreement. Moving down the ravine would take them in the direction of the school. It also provided a bit more protection from the storm. The problem was, they didn’t have the time needed to attempt that route. The top of the ridgeline would be far easier to locate either by return Apparation or a broom if the weather finally cleared. It was a calculated risk, but they both felt a necessary one.

After a final inspection of the stretcher, Harry and Ginny once again took a moment to hold each other in a long embrace. It had become a welcome ritual for them, and both felt the better for doing it. Gently transferring the elf to the structure, Harry then asked Ginny to take the lead, not trusting his leg to set the pace. Pulling out his old, battered pocket watch, Harry noted the time as one fifteen. They had four…maybe five hours of daylight remaining.

The first segment of travel seemed to go well, and Harry even thought that his leg was loosening up a bit. They climbed at least five hundred feet in elevation but doubted that they had gone more than a mile. At every rest break Harry and Ginny made a point of encouraging each other with comments about their progress, more long hugs, and jokes about the lovely weather they were experiencing. It wasn’t until later, when they could safely look back on the day, that they finally admitted what an ordeal it really was.

Fortunately, the forest elf was rather light–-no bigger or heavier than Ginny was herself. Unfortunately, the injured girl’s condition didn’t seem to improve, and, if anything, she was getting weaker. A part of Harry wanted the elf to slip so far away that the ward would fail, and they could magically transfer her. He admonished himself knowing that if it got to that point they may not be able to save her. All they could do was tuck their heads to the blowing snow, drive on, and desperately hope they could arrive near a clearly identifiable landmark.

Harry’s watch, as best as he could read it, told him it was half past three when they finally spotted the mountaintop. They again rested, and this time Ginny rewarded their accomplishment with a quick kiss. At first Harry thought it was the intensity of that he was experiencing, but then he realized he distinctly heard something. It was a dragon’s roar. He listened again over the howling wind, and now he was certain. A shiver ran through Harry that no amount of cold snow could ever hope to match. While the elf somehow negated their magic, they couldn’t hope to escape from, or defend against, an attack from such a creature. Neither could they abandon their charge merely to save themselves. A moment later they saw it pass over the distant rise and move in their direction. How could anything so large escape notice in a country such as Scotland?

“Harry…” Ginny began in a quiet voice. He marveled at how calm she could sound while being as scared as he was himself.

“I see Ginny. I don’t know…”

“I do!”

The girl drew her wand then, and, with amazing speed, ran uphill through the snow straight at the dragon. Harry started after her, but his leg, and the elf he had to somehow protect, held him back. He screamed after her, but, even if she heard him, she either couldn’t or wouldn’t acknowledge. Ginny was now beyond the dampening, and she began hurling fierce hexes at the monster. They merely bounced off its magical scales but did have the effect of distracting the dragon’s attention. It moved toward the running Witch and away from Harry and the elf. At least it wasn’t a fire breather.

Harry picked up the injured elfin girl then, and carrying her, staggered up the slope trying to keep pace with Ginny. His mind flashed back to his first experience with a basilisk; his own encounter with a dragon during the Tri-Wizard competition; his encounters with werewolves, demeantors, Delores Umbridge without make-up; his battles in the Ministry, at the Burrow, his… Had Ginny been this scared for him when he had done something so…stupid?

He saw Ginny pass over the top of the ridge. He saw the dragon turn on a Knut to follow her away from him. It took every ounce of his willpower and personal fortitude not to drop the elf girl and charge after them. It took another three seconds for him to remember that he trusted Ginny completely, even under those conditions. It took him exactly four more seconds to begin shouting at the wind.

“Blast it! Why can’t I help her? You girl…why is your magic so strong? Dobby…why didn’t you ever tell us elves could do this? Dobby! Where are you when we need you?”

Crack!

“Great Harry Potter calls Dobby? Are all things right and good with friend Harry?”


*****



“I’m sorry Harry. I don’t care how good the corned beef is here, I’m just not hungry.”

“Ron…I’d take you to a Healer for saying that, but I don’t think there is one in Sweet Haven now. A Weasley who’s not interested in food? Imagine that!” Harry joked, but he immediately wished that he hadn’t.

“I’m interested in food all right–-my sister’s turkeys and Hermione’s buttermilk dinner rolls. My girls were going to try their hand at gingerbread this year.”

“I know Ron. I’m sorry. I should have delayed the broom exhibition until the weather cleared.”

“Are you serious Harry? Your brooms were incredible. They buried those German competitors’. How were we supposed to know the whole country’s Wizarding travel would be shut down the same day as this flippin’ blizzard?”

Harry nodded in agreement, but he still didn’t feel any better. He scanned the inn’s small café and admired its rustic atmosphere. He especially appreciated the large stone fireplace, which their easygoing host had kept well-stoked for them. They appeared to be the only two there at the moment; the rest of the world was wise enough to remain home until the cold weather let up. Harry knew that they should probably go ahead and get a room for the night, but neither Ron nor he could bring themselves to do it yet. That is one of the things that you had to love about these guys. They never gave up hope.

“You know Harry, Spenser may just be comic relief, but we’ve really gotten to love his American Thanksgiving.”

“Yeah Ron, I guess we have a lot to be thankful for. We survived the war and a dozen other adventures.”

“At least.”

“We have wonderful wives, incredibly beautiful children, warm, snug homes, and successful businesses.”

“All of them miles away on the other side of a snow storm. I really wish… Well, do you think the owl got through Harry?”

“Actually, he did Ron. Thank you,” I finally said from my chair in the flickering shadows near the fire.

“Spenser! What are you doing here? How did you find us?” Harry loudly asked as he and Ron jumped to their feet.

“How long have you been sitting there?” Ron added.

“Judging by how much the icicles on my ears have melted, I’d say maybe seven or eight minutes. I would have spoken up sooner, but my teeth have been chattering too much. I carried our owl on the broom coming over here. He led me to you.”

“Never thought of using him that way,” Harry admitted. “Where is he now?”

“Have you ever seen an owl with hypothermia?” I asked. “The poor little guy is as blue as a Smurf. I left him to the tender care of his new girlfriend.”

“New girl…? No, never mind. Even if Rocky was up to another trip, we’d lose each other if we tried to fly in this snow storm.” Harry grew quiet then, and began to give me a long, hard look. “Why did you come here? You know that you’re stuck as well.”

“Because Hogsmeade doesn’t have a decent florist. Thanks for the reminder by the way. Harry, I wouldn’t have come down to Sweet Haven if I didn’t think we could get back. You remember the little incident with the forest elf and the dragon?” He slowly nodded, and I could see that he was a bit confused. “If Ginny was ten thousand miles away Harry, you could go straight to her blindfolded.” He smiled at that, knowing I was right.

“I’ll grant you that for sure, but it won’t keep us from losing Harry as we fly home Spense. You don’t suppose Luna’s godfather would loan us that red-nose reindeer of his, do you?” Ron wasn’t joking.

“Not this close to Christmas good buddy,” I told him. “Still, that might work after all. Hmm…?”

“Oh no! Harry, he scares me when gets that look!”

“Relax Ron; I think I know what he has in mind. Remember the night little Nicholas was born? That hurricane was as bad as this one in its own way. Ginny and I guided you over the mountains to get the Healer by the light of those road flares. They’re brighter than a Lumos Spell, and we shouldn’t have any trouble seeing each other. All right Spenser…go ahead and say it. I know you want to include it.”

“Harry with your flares so bright…won’t you guide our brooms tonight?”


*****



“Dobby! How did you…? Hold on, the elfin magic wouldn’t affect you would it? You can even Apparate inside Hogwarts.”

The house-elf took a step toward his Wizard friend, but his attention was fixed on the forest elf Harry carried. Dobby’s head darted about as he examined her, and three or four times he reached out as if to touch the girl.

“Dobby…she’s somehow creating a protective ward that’s preventing us from performing magic. I never realized elves could produce such a powerful charm.”

“Harry Potter, she-elf evokes very ancient magic.” Now Dobby did touch the girl, taking her hand, and staring at it. A moment passed, and there was a slight golden glow forming at the connection. The forest elf seemed to respond to it just slightly, and Harry assumed it was some manner of healing charm. “Spell is protection for unborn child created by mother.”

“What? She’s just a girl. She’s too young to have a baby.” Dobby smiled at Harry’s words, and only the Wizard’s serious mood seemed to prevent the house-elf from laughing aloud.

“Good Harry Potter, this is elfin friend Myree. She and life-mate Gohdheart are well over hundred years in lifespan. Now hurt girl applies Curribulb Spell to protect self and elfling.”

“That’s wonderful Dobby, but you need to take her to help. Not Hogwarts…no her magic may harm the school’s own wards–-the village Healer then. You need to Apparate now, and I need to go help Ginny. What’s wrong? Why are you shaking your head that way?”

“Dobby is very sorry. Elves with child may not Apparate. Magic would kill child.”

That made perfect sense Harry instantly decided. Even expectant Witches were strongly discouraged from that means of travel, especially in the later months of the pregnancy. The spell Myree was utilizing must have been developed over time as a means of protecting the baby when escape was not possible. Harry couldn’t help but think of the very special and ancient magic his own mother had used that Halloween to save him.

“Dobby, I need to go after Ginny. She’s being chased by the largest dragon I’ve ever seen,” Harry shouted as he quickly recovered the stretcher, and pulled loose the two brooms. “You need to go for help. Somehow you were able to locate me...”

“Harry Potter must bring pretty Weezy back to elfin Curribulb circle!”

“What do you mean? No…of course! A dragon is a magical creature. Myree’s ward would repel the bloody thing!” Harry slapped his head at this revelation. Ginny would have been safe if she had just stayed with the forest elf and him. “Blast! Will someone please publish a spell lexicon that will tell me these things ahead of time! I’m tired of finding out fifteen pages into the story!”

Harry had limped out of the range of the dampening ward before he had even finished speaking. He was instantly in the air and risked only a brief look back before flying toward the ridgeline. The elf girl was buried below a pile of quilts that Dobby must have conjured. He was nowhere in sight and had undoubtedly gone for that help. Harry tucked his head and shoulders down against the cold, and dearly wished that he had taken the time to recover his flight cloak.

Harry shot over the summit with his free hand tightly gripping Ginny’s broom. He knew his wand would be of little use to him in a running fight with the enchanted beast. His best hope was to reach Ginny and pull back on the run. The sight before him left him wondering how he could accomplish that.

The landscape on that side of the mountain fell away sharply without any apparent escape route for someone on foot. At the edge of the cliff Harry finally spotted Ginny, down on one knee, and gripping her wand with both hands. A blood-red stream of magic flowed from the wand, slamming into the dragon’s chest, and, for the moment, holding it back. It was an uneasy stalemate–-one which might fail any second, he thought. Ginny could have Apparated away he knew, but clearly wanted to continue drawing the gigantic creature away from the elf. He had no way to tell her that the circle actually meant safety.

Harry intentionally buzzed the creature’s head as he flew past, hoping to distract it. The ploy worked, but he cursed his decision when he saw it also diverted Ginny’s attention. Her spell faltered then, and the dragon surged forward toward her. Ginny looked up, saluted Harry with her wand, smiled, and then, without looking, jumped backward off the cliff.

Anyone else would have screamed in horror at the sight, but this was Harry and Ginny. He simply grinned back at her, and took his Firebolt into a fast, high loop before following her down. Quickly matching her descent, Harry pitched Ginny’s broom straight at her in yet another unrehearsed movement. Pulling up then, he knew, without seeing it, that she had caught and activated the Cleansweep, and then brought it up to join him. Instead of concentrating on Ginny, his attention was on an extremely angry dragon, no doubt upset at having lost a tasty redheaded morsel.

The lizard spun about then and began to charge back over the hill in pursuit of the two. Harry hadn’t been able to explain, but he hoped Ginny could again trust him enough to simply follow him back to the forest elf’s dampening ward. Unsure of precisely where he had earlier emerged from the circle, he greatly slowed their progress not wanting a repeat of their earlier collision. Naturally, this permitted the dragon to close the distance between them to perhaps thirty yards by the time the two landed. Harry and Ginny each threw Stupefy bolts at it, which as expected merely bounced off again. Harry had been astride the broom long enough to where his leg had again begun to stiffen again. Ginny did her best to support his greater weight as they tried to run, but their pace was far too slow. Just as he was about to call out that they should take to their brooms again, Ginny grabbed Harry’s hand, whipped up her wand, and pointed it at a distant boulder.

Carpe Retractum!” she shouted. The two were pulled into the air, forward and over the boulder, again expanding their lead. “It worked!” she shouted as they picked themselves up.

“If it hadn’t, it would have at least told us where the dampening boundary was. Brilliant Ginny, but are we inside it now?” Attempting another Lumos Spell, they saw that they were indeed within the ward again.

“Harry…I take it that you have some plan, since here’s our good friend.”

Before he could answer, the dragon came in contact with the field, and it was as if a Muggle switch had been thrown. Green and blue magic began to crackle about the beast, and it grew with each passing second. The dragon was writhing in pain, and, if not for the fact that it had been trying to eat them moments before, Harry might have been moved by its pathetic roars. More and more the strange ball lightning enveloped it, until only that could be seen there before them. The wild cries began to subside then as did its overall size. Down…down it went. After perhaps a minute more, the residual magic faded away leaving behind…a foot-long green lizard with large bulging eyes. Harry picked it up by the throat and began to study it.

“It’s been disenchanted Harry,” Ginny commented.

“The thing I want to know is whether it will remain that way after it leaves the dampening circle.”

Crack! Crack! Crack!

“Friends Harry Potter and pretty Weezy, Dobby returns with forest elf clan to help Myree, and to save you from vicious, vicious…dragon?” It took a supreme effort for Harry and Ginny to keep from laughing at his amazed expression.

“Well Dobby, that’s the funny thing about dragons,” Harry explained. “This is why they need to come with labels that say dry-clean only.”


*****



“So, the forest elf Myree was rescued, and two months later gave birth to a beautiful little girl. Harry and Ginny returned to the castle, and that same evening they had a wonderful dinner together in Hogsmeade. I don’t believe Professor McGonagall ever did find out about their broom ride into the mountains.”

“Aunt Luna, what ever happened to Mr. Dragon?” Lily asked.

“Oh yes…Uncle Charlie arranged to have him taken to the preserve in Romania. The staff fed him a steady diet of dragon chow and cocktail peanuts, and, in no time at all, he was re-enchanted back to his normal size.” Luna gave the small child a soft smile, and was rewarded with a bright, beaming one in return.

“That was an excellent story Luna. Are you sure that you don’t actually ghostwrite for Spenser?” Hermione asked. She looked over to Ginny and saw that she was grinning now as well. Something suddenly told her it wasn’t the joke she had just made. No…there was something else in her sister-in-law’s eyes now. Something good she decided.

Ginny stood up then, and started toward the kitchen, motioning for the others to follow her. Everyone decided that they were going to eat finally, and, for a minute, the collective mood sobered. Their growing appetites were forgotten; the wonderful aromas were ignored; the holiday spirit had fled the house. They weren’t going to wait for us to return.

“James and Nicholas…what did we tell you about snowmen in the kitchen?”

“Oh Mum!”

“Aunt Ginny, it’s too cold outside for them. See…they all have runny noses,” Nicholas recited. He…everyone was on the verge of laughing at the sight.

Ginny walked up to Harry, and brushed the remaining slushy snow off his shoulders, and then pulled the heavy wool hat from his head. They just stood there staring at each other as the rest of us looked on.

“You know you’re melting all over my kitchen floor Mr. Potter.”

“You could have laid out some newspapers for us Mrs. Potter. The Daily Prophet really is good for something after all. You knew I was coming.”

“Yes, I did Harry. You still scared us though.”

That was all it took. Ginny was in his arms then, and Ron and Hermione were quickly imitating them. It only took a few seconds for the children to join in the collective embraces. I held up a hand for Nicholas and Jennifer to give me a moment though.

“Happy Thanksgiving Luna,” I said then handing her the flowers I had somehow managed to preserve during our frozen flight back.

“You remembered.”

“I always remember our anniversary; it was just the roses that Harry had to help me with.” I pulled out the small music box I had bought her the week before as well. I received yet another smile when she heard that the tune was Stephen Foster’s Nelly Bly. Now it was our turn for hugs from the children. “Oh, and Nicholas...don’t let me forget. Tomorrow really is garbage day.”

“So, was it a difficult flight home?” Hermione asked.

“Horrible…absolutely terrible,” Ron answered for us. “We had a headwind almost the entire way; it was well below freezing up there; we almost lost Harry more times than I can count. I don’t ever want to do that again.”

“When we got back inside here, I could barely flex my fingers for several minutes,” I added.

“Wait one…how long have the three of you been in here?” Ginny asked, her eyes wide with suspicion.

“Uhm…about seven or eight minutes,” Harry meekly told her.

“Seven or eight minutes in the kitchen unsupervised!” Ginny yelled. “You didn’t! You wouldn’t! No, not my pies!”

While she was distracted with the sight of what we had left behind, Harry, Ron, and I made a dash for the door, the brooms, and that cold corned beef in Sweet Haven.

Mischief managed!
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