The Wilder stayed in the camp for many days after, disappearing for hours at a time but then reemerging, dirty but happy, and always from different directions. He'd walk by carrying a dragon scale, or a handful of earth or ashes, feathers, bones, flowers, and assorted other oddities. There was even one camp member who swore he'd seen the Wilder carrying a golden crown. Ginny would have followed him, as much because of Draco's protests as despite them, but Snape was insistent that she remember the cardinal rule - Wilders should not be meddled with.
This continued until one day, when the Wilder ran into the camp, his face intent as he took Ginny's hand and began to drag her forward. When she resisted he took hold of Draco's hand, tugging him along and then joining Draco's hand with Ginny's. He was grunting frantically, using all of his weigh to pull them forward, and finally they moved to follow him. By the time they reached the edge of the forest they were running, stumbling between trees and ignoring the way the underbrush clutched at their legs and tried to slow them down.
Ginny would have fallen when they stopped, but Draco caught her and held her close to his chest. "I don't believe it," he breathed.
"What?" she asked crossly, looking around to see what had inspired his awed whisper.
"Look, " he said, caressing her cheek as he directed her gaze. "Look at what he did."
It took a moment for her eyes to adjust and focus on what she saw. Fragments of astoundingly thin and fragile shell were scattered around a small mound, earth and ashes and bones and feathers mingled with them. The center of all this had a tiny heap of iridescent blue-green that gleamed dully in the light shining through the forest canopy.
"My God," Draco breathed. "My God, it's... He really is..."
He trailed off, completely overcome by the sight of the baby dragon lifting its head, tendrils of steam drifting from its nostrils as it turned. It followed the Wilder's movements intently as he danced around the clearing, going between Ginny, Draco, and the dragon. "Star!"
"Yes, Star," said Ginny, moving cautiously towards the nest. "That's a good name."
"Leave it alone," said Draco sharply. "Don't interfere with the Wilder."
The Wilder looked between them in confusion as Ginny said, in a fierce whisper, "Can't you see it's sick? It needs care - the mortality rate is bad enough without adding neglect to the mix, and I won't lose this one if we don't have to."
"It wouldn't be alive if it weren't for the Wilder," Draco said, moving so that he blocked her from reaching the dragon. "You might kill it where he Wilder would keep it alive."
"He barely takes care of himself! How can he--" Her shouts were cut off as the Wilder put his hand in hers, tugging her towards Draco. Once again he linked their hands, then pulled both of them forward, towards the dragon. "Star," he said, patting the dragon on the snout with their joined hands. "Dray. Jih. Star."
"I guess you have permission," said Draco, sounding a bit shaky as he knelt beside the nest, staring at the Wilder with an expression that held awe and reverence and a touch of fear. Ginny looked at Draco for a long moment, her eyes flickering with emotions that she'd never acknowledge. Before he looked up to see them, she'd pushed aside any thought of softness. "Make a stretcher," she snapped.
His brows shot up at her tone but he didn't protest. Instead he laid out a framework of fallen branches, then laid his cloak over it and transfigured it into a small basket-like structure. He gently lifted the dragon and placed it carefully inside after checking its gender. "It's a boy," he said, then stepped back so he could levitate the basket. Before it rose too far, the Wilder climbed in, making the whole thing wobble. The dragon and the boy curled up together, and both drifted off to sleep.
~~~~~
None of the mother dragons were willing to adopt the little one. In fact, none of the dragons would have anything to do with him, and the prevailing theory was that it was due to his continuing frailty. Snape talked about someone named Darwin, and letting nature take its course. Ginny stubbornly continued to work with the small dragon, feeding him by hand and trying different methods to introduce him to the other dragons.
It was after one particularly frustrating effort, when a friendly young dragon actually backed over a tent rather than remain next to the baby dragon, that Draco said, "It's like he's a Wilder, too."
"What?" Ginny snapped, pushing her hair out of her face and glaring at him from where the dragon had knocked her down in his panic to flee. "What are you blathering about?"
"Have you ever watched the way the other dragons react?" He offered her his hand, but she rejected it. After a moment in which he visibly gathered his temper he continued speaking, although in a much colder tone. "They treat him like we treat the Wilder. None of them will get in his way, and none of them complain when he gets all the attention."
She stared at him for a long moment, then said, "You're full of it," and turned her back on him. The Wilder looked at her quizzically, but followed calmly when she took his hand and led him away.
"Where are you taking him?" Draco asked, following them but being careful not to touch either of them.
"Away from you," snapped Ginny, but the dramatic effect of her speech was spoiled by the Wilder coming to a stop and thus dragging her along. The little dragon had tried to follow but couldn't get over the fence of his pen, and so had fallen behind. The Wilder frowned and reached towards him, making faces as if straining. Finally, with a grunt of effort, the Wilder pulled his hand in towards his body and the dragon rose in the air, floating towards him.
"Fucking hell," Draco breathed. "Bloody fucking hell, the power..."
"F'kn ail!" the Wilder said happily, taking Ginny's hand and walking away, the baby dragon floating behind him like a balloon. Ginny glared at Draco over her shoulder but went back to leading the Wilder towards her tent without deigning to say anything.
Once the tent flap was closed behind her, though, she took a deep breath and sat down quickly, her knees shaking. Any child could do wandless magic; it was how magic first appeared. It was limited, though, because it wasn't focused - without the aid of a wand, casting spells was like trying to eat soup with your fingers. Making a toy dance was considered a fair indication of an exceptionally talented child. Actually lifting an entire dragon, even a baby one? It was unheard of.
"Come here, baby," she said, and after a moment the Wilder walked into her open arms, allowing her to hug him and give him kisses. He didn't tolerate it for long and soon struggled away, climbing onto her bed to play with the dragon.
Ginny wiped her eyes and watched him. He'd allowed her to wash his hair over the course of thee hours spent playing under the showers, and now it was a light brown that shone in the sunlight and always fell perfectly into place. Without all the dirt on his face, you could see he was actually a beautiful little boy, with pale skin and grey-green eyes surrounded by long, sooty lashes. She'd had the idle thought that he looked like he could be her child, or Draco's, and then had crushed the thought ruthlessly.
She hadn't been able to stop the thought change in how she saw him, though. The shift in seeing him as a magical creature to seeing him as a little boy had been gradual, but there was no reversing it. His behavior in the daytime was alien, more like a toddler or a puppy than a boy his age, and it was off-putting to have him take food out of people's mouths or relieve himself wherever he happened to be standing. At night was almost worse, though, because he would wake up screaming and trembling and crying like his heart was breaking. Nothing would soothe him, and the only thing Ginny could so was hold him until he dropped into an exhausted sleep. Draco would watch them in the faint light that came from the campfire just outside the tent, saying nothing.
No one was supposed to interfere with a Wilder, but Ginny was determined that she was going to help this little boy, regardless of how much power he had, or maybe because of it, because he needed to learn control and discipline, because he could save the world if only he could learn to care about it. Starting now, Ginny was going to be the best mother she could be to the Wilder, and maybe that would help him become a little boy in other people's eyes as well as hers.
This continued until one day, when the Wilder ran into the camp, his face intent as he took Ginny's hand and began to drag her forward. When she resisted he took hold of Draco's hand, tugging him along and then joining Draco's hand with Ginny's. He was grunting frantically, using all of his weigh to pull them forward, and finally they moved to follow him. By the time they reached the edge of the forest they were running, stumbling between trees and ignoring the way the underbrush clutched at their legs and tried to slow them down.
Ginny would have fallen when they stopped, but Draco caught her and held her close to his chest. "I don't believe it," he breathed.
"What?" she asked crossly, looking around to see what had inspired his awed whisper.
"Look, " he said, caressing her cheek as he directed her gaze. "Look at what he did."
It took a moment for her eyes to adjust and focus on what she saw. Fragments of astoundingly thin and fragile shell were scattered around a small mound, earth and ashes and bones and feathers mingled with them. The center of all this had a tiny heap of iridescent blue-green that gleamed dully in the light shining through the forest canopy.
"My God," Draco breathed. "My God, it's... He really is..."
He trailed off, completely overcome by the sight of the baby dragon lifting its head, tendrils of steam drifting from its nostrils as it turned. It followed the Wilder's movements intently as he danced around the clearing, going between Ginny, Draco, and the dragon. "Star!"
"Yes, Star," said Ginny, moving cautiously towards the nest. "That's a good name."
"Leave it alone," said Draco sharply. "Don't interfere with the Wilder."
The Wilder looked between them in confusion as Ginny said, in a fierce whisper, "Can't you see it's sick? It needs care - the mortality rate is bad enough without adding neglect to the mix, and I won't lose this one if we don't have to."
"It wouldn't be alive if it weren't for the Wilder," Draco said, moving so that he blocked her from reaching the dragon. "You might kill it where he Wilder would keep it alive."
"He barely takes care of himself! How can he--" Her shouts were cut off as the Wilder put his hand in hers, tugging her towards Draco. Once again he linked their hands, then pulled both of them forward, towards the dragon. "Star," he said, patting the dragon on the snout with their joined hands. "Dray. Jih. Star."
"I guess you have permission," said Draco, sounding a bit shaky as he knelt beside the nest, staring at the Wilder with an expression that held awe and reverence and a touch of fear. Ginny looked at Draco for a long moment, her eyes flickering with emotions that she'd never acknowledge. Before he looked up to see them, she'd pushed aside any thought of softness. "Make a stretcher," she snapped.
His brows shot up at her tone but he didn't protest. Instead he laid out a framework of fallen branches, then laid his cloak over it and transfigured it into a small basket-like structure. He gently lifted the dragon and placed it carefully inside after checking its gender. "It's a boy," he said, then stepped back so he could levitate the basket. Before it rose too far, the Wilder climbed in, making the whole thing wobble. The dragon and the boy curled up together, and both drifted off to sleep.
~~~~~
None of the mother dragons were willing to adopt the little one. In fact, none of the dragons would have anything to do with him, and the prevailing theory was that it was due to his continuing frailty. Snape talked about someone named Darwin, and letting nature take its course. Ginny stubbornly continued to work with the small dragon, feeding him by hand and trying different methods to introduce him to the other dragons.
It was after one particularly frustrating effort, when a friendly young dragon actually backed over a tent rather than remain next to the baby dragon, that Draco said, "It's like he's a Wilder, too."
"What?" Ginny snapped, pushing her hair out of her face and glaring at him from where the dragon had knocked her down in his panic to flee. "What are you blathering about?"
"Have you ever watched the way the other dragons react?" He offered her his hand, but she rejected it. After a moment in which he visibly gathered his temper he continued speaking, although in a much colder tone. "They treat him like we treat the Wilder. None of them will get in his way, and none of them complain when he gets all the attention."
She stared at him for a long moment, then said, "You're full of it," and turned her back on him. The Wilder looked at her quizzically, but followed calmly when she took his hand and led him away.
"Where are you taking him?" Draco asked, following them but being careful not to touch either of them.
"Away from you," snapped Ginny, but the dramatic effect of her speech was spoiled by the Wilder coming to a stop and thus dragging her along. The little dragon had tried to follow but couldn't get over the fence of his pen, and so had fallen behind. The Wilder frowned and reached towards him, making faces as if straining. Finally, with a grunt of effort, the Wilder pulled his hand in towards his body and the dragon rose in the air, floating towards him.
"Fucking hell," Draco breathed. "Bloody fucking hell, the power..."
"F'kn ail!" the Wilder said happily, taking Ginny's hand and walking away, the baby dragon floating behind him like a balloon. Ginny glared at Draco over her shoulder but went back to leading the Wilder towards her tent without deigning to say anything.
Once the tent flap was closed behind her, though, she took a deep breath and sat down quickly, her knees shaking. Any child could do wandless magic; it was how magic first appeared. It was limited, though, because it wasn't focused - without the aid of a wand, casting spells was like trying to eat soup with your fingers. Making a toy dance was considered a fair indication of an exceptionally talented child. Actually lifting an entire dragon, even a baby one? It was unheard of.
"Come here, baby," she said, and after a moment the Wilder walked into her open arms, allowing her to hug him and give him kisses. He didn't tolerate it for long and soon struggled away, climbing onto her bed to play with the dragon.
Ginny wiped her eyes and watched him. He'd allowed her to wash his hair over the course of thee hours spent playing under the showers, and now it was a light brown that shone in the sunlight and always fell perfectly into place. Without all the dirt on his face, you could see he was actually a beautiful little boy, with pale skin and grey-green eyes surrounded by long, sooty lashes. She'd had the idle thought that he looked like he could be her child, or Draco's, and then had crushed the thought ruthlessly.
She hadn't been able to stop the thought change in how she saw him, though. The shift in seeing him as a magical creature to seeing him as a little boy had been gradual, but there was no reversing it. His behavior in the daytime was alien, more like a toddler or a puppy than a boy his age, and it was off-putting to have him take food out of people's mouths or relieve himself wherever he happened to be standing. At night was almost worse, though, because he would wake up screaming and trembling and crying like his heart was breaking. Nothing would soothe him, and the only thing Ginny could so was hold him until he dropped into an exhausted sleep. Draco would watch them in the faint light that came from the campfire just outside the tent, saying nothing.
No one was supposed to interfere with a Wilder, but Ginny was determined that she was going to help this little boy, regardless of how much power he had, or maybe because of it, because he needed to learn control and discipline, because he could save the world if only he could learn to care about it. Starting now, Ginny was going to be the best mother she could be to the Wilder, and maybe that would help him become a little boy in other people's eyes as well as hers.
To Be Continued.
Mynuet is the author of 71 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 11 members. Members who liked Lost and Found also liked 568 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 11 members. Members who liked Lost and Found also liked 568 other stories.
Leave a Review