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It was a curse that Hungary thought it would never be rid of - the vicious, bloodthirsty Horntail dragon 'F' that had been terrorizing the country for more than a century. The suffering and desperation of the local population had reached such a pitch it was decided to organize the first ever, international magical dragon hunt since all local attempts at stopping it had failed. Possible participants were stringently tested and screened, resulting in a dragon-hunting dream-team composed of the crafty banking expert Rinaku (Dwarflands), the dodgy Dutch doxy Karenlee, and the wily, sharp-eyed, sharp-tongued local Transsilvanian expert Vicabady - all under the guidance of the vibrantly virile Charlie Weasley and and the taciturn tactful tack Yves Fibrequill. It was a journey filled with danger, with suspense, and with blatant passes at Charlie Weasley from the first moment to the last! Read, weep and shiver, dear subscribers as we bring you the exclusive premiere, the first hand report of ... |
The Great Hungarian Horntail Hunt!!!
The expedition was fraught with peril from the start. Female dragons may be fierce, but customs officials are worse. Our daring Dwarflands' wizard was discovered moments after apparating in the third toilet stall from the left in the women's bathroom, and was dragged off to explain to the muggle please-men why his baggage was loaded with nets and spears. He cunningly said he was an archeology expert bringing them in for a Hungarian museum, but the situation remained tricky since he couldn't, on the spur of the moment, remember the name of the museum. A quick Confundus charm eventually helped sort things out, and he was free to find his way to gate #9 3/4 to meet Karenlee. She was having problems of her own, as the horde of Japanese tourists in front of her not only had to get their passports stamped, but all wanted a picture of themselves with the custom officials as well! Just as she was stroking her wand and musing whether a well-placed Adava Kedavra might not hurry things up, Rinaku let her know by way of a MOST ingenious muggle invention called 'the mophile bone' that he had an invisibility cloak with him. Karenlee accioed it in, and was out of there before you could say 'Sayonara'!
It was important that our intrepid explorers keep a low profile - no using broomsticks to get to the base of operations - so they climbed into a muggle minibus heading for downtown. Rina was enchanted with the automatic, slide handle doors and kept popping them open with great amusement until the driver (who got rather red in the face for some reason) told him to well, we're not sure WHAT he said but Rina decided he should probably leave the doors alone. In the meantime, Karenlee was urgently trying to reach Vic on the mophile bone (no owls around) to explain the delay but kept having difficulties communicating with her. First there was a garbled response that she had met Charlie and was talking good care of him so there was NO NEED to hurry. Then there was a busy signal for a long time. Then finally got Vic back on the line, but all Karenlee could hear were giggles. Obviously the stress of the upcoming mission was seriously getting to our dear colleague, and we urgently urged our exploding bus driver to hasten so we could join her quickly and shoulder our share of the burden.
Reconnaissance
It had been agreed we would spend the first part of our mission when we were scoping things out as inconspicuously as possible in downtown Budapest at Hotel Charles (yes - it IS named after him - the wizard owner is quite a fan of Mr Weasley's). After a joyous meeting, we quickly unpacked. There was a bit of a delay as Karen dragged Charlie off to her room so he could explain how the clothes hangers worked - for some reason it took AGES. But eventually everyone was dressed up as muggle tourists and we hurried off to find a discreet location where we could mount our brooms and survey the area for dragon nests.
Vic and Rina blended right into the surroundings and the delicious Dutch doxy looked particularly fetching in her polyester dragonskin hotpants, plastic fang necklace and wham-glam Grace Kelly headscarf. After a stroll along the Danube, with Rina stopping occasionally to take pictures so the muggles wouldn't get suspicious, we reached a sheltered cove where we could mount our brooms. The view as we rose over the city was wonderful! Briefly we all forgot the terrible danger lying ahead of us at the marvelous sight!
We soon came to the entrance of the ancient dragon nesting grounds. It was doubtful we would find 'F' here, but we could pick up useful clues from the other dragon activity. You could still discern that the primeval gates had been built in tribute to Aragog's ancestors, who also roamed here freely. It was amazing seeing Charlie in action as we flew - that masterful sense of purpose, that eagle eye, that 'nose' for dragon activity, those biceps, that butt! Eventually we located a small dragon nest and got off to investigate. Not only was the nest small, but the dragons were too - Rina thought a cross between common Welsh Green and Pygmy Short Snout with a dash of Horntail thrown in. Charlie had no trouble keeping them under control while we tagged them, but the task was a bit more time-consuming and difficult than we'd anticipated because of Vic. As a native Hungarian, she's not only used to dragons, but LIKES them, especially the babies. She kept coochy-cooing them and trying to stroke the noses of the little ones. Eventually Rina had to shove her aside and take over, but ended up having a green baby with red spots sink its nasty little fangs into his thumb and almost drag him off into the foliage. Thank goodness we had an extensive dragon detox kit with us or our glorious mission might have ended then and there!
By the conditions of the nests and surrounding landscape, Charlie had gotten a good idea of the migration patterns, and decided that the next day we should head towards the village of charming village of Szentendre (which means 'Traveler, tourist, beware of trespassing on the territory of the most fearsome beast known to man or Muggle. Photography, 5 Sickles. Filming not allowed. Postcards at the entrance'). We headed back to Budapest, satisfied with our first day's work, and feasted that evening on the local delicacy 'Hortobagyi Palacsinta', (which means in the native lingo 'rolls made of organically grown bobotuber flour, with no additives, 100% natural paprika cream flavour, discount price 0.99 Kn. five ounces'). Charlie kept us all in stitches describing some of the latest products his twin brothers are developing. I think some of the muggle waiters must have overheard what he was saying. Or maybe they noticed Vic - blinking and batting eyelashes at Charlie so furiously she started to levitate. They had already asked where she'd gotten that scar. Anyway, at a certain point, they started looking at us very suspiciously. So Karen and Rina had no other choice but to start ordering beer after beer after beer to keep them running around and busy (well, we had to do SOMETHING) so they wouldn't notice anything else strange about us!
Towards the end of the evening our heroic group went to something called an 'internet café' in downtown Budapest. They looked around as inconspicuously as possible for the Portkey that was supposed to take Charlie to MoM for a first progress report. Eventually it was found but - again - it was a perfect example of MoM's usual miscommunication and inefficiency. Readers, decide for yourself: If you are told to look for a 'big, broken yellow mouse' you're are going to peel your eyes for a corpulent, buttercup-coloured rodent wearing a cast, not? Well, it turned out to be something completely different. After Charlie took off, the rest of us amused ourselves by playing with the muggle comptooters. They're quite cunning actually. You have to do this thing called 'logging in' and then you can communicate with muggles all over the world. We found this place called 'IGN Filmforce' where (you won't believe it) the muggles were completely familiar with one of the most outstanding members of our magical community - Harry Potter! It seems someone named JK Rowling has actually written books about him! This reporter has not yet discovered which witch or wizard is hiding behind that pseudonym, but I can assure you that she will not rest until she has gotten to the bottom of this dangerous breach of magical security!
Close Call in Szentenre
The next morning we got off to a rather slow start. Both Karen and Rina were suffering acutely. They blamed it on the rich greasy paprika sauce smothering the Horgy Porgys the night before, but the more sharp-eyed among us noticed the bloodshot eyes behind the muggle sunglasses, the shudders caused by the sausages at the breakfast buffet, the Advil being popped, and the numerous glasses of water gulped down. However Vic, who only imbibes plasma, sympathetically conjured up some pepper-up potion, and we were soon on our way.
We had to take the muggle train to Szentendre. There was no way to fly there inconspicuously since the morning was very clear, but we didn't mind since we went through some beautiful Hungarian countryside. Rina was so absorbed in admiration of the view that we could hardly tear him away from the window. Upon arrival we headed for the edge of town and, as we were walking, Rina found a beautiful, slender staff of wood which was perfect wand material. Many of you may be unaware of the fact, but Rina is a great-great-great grandson of Gregorovich and has inherited a great deal of his wand making talent. Charlie was still off making his report and we had arranged to meet him at the spot where the Danube flows out of town and the deep forest begins, While we waited for him, Rina got a good start on carving the new wand.
Charlie was very excited when he apparated - Karenlee had to drag him off to a quiet spot in the bushes just to settle him down. A report had come in at MoM headquarters placing 'F' in an area just to the west of us. Once Charles was his old, calm self again with that familiar silly grin on his face, we started flying in that direction, deeper, ever deeper into a forest that was already ancient when Ollivander's opened. Patches of open ground were revealed here and there between the thick-growing trees. In one, we saw a herd of unicorn - nearly 100 of them in all sizes. Grown unicorns may be mainly white and silver, but when the sun could make it's fitful way through the increasing mass of clouds, they sparked all the more brilliantly against the gloom with flashes of blue, green, red, black and even gold! And among them, we suddenly saw three centaurs, standing in a loose semi-circle, gazing over the herd and up at the skies, deep in discussion. Slowly we descended.
As we carefully approached, they watched us expressionlessly. Respectfully we inquired if they could give us information on the whereabouts of 'F'. They gazed back in quiet intensity, then the leader said, "That which is written in the stars will come to pass, and know yourselves not to be the shapers of destiny but merely its instruments". While Charlie was scratching his head over that one, Vic gazed back and said in Centaurish, "Ah, but some instruments are sharper than others and seek only a good, guiding hand that they may strike firm and true and thus fulfill destiny's desire". The leaders raised one eyebrow slightly. His lips twisted in grudging appreciation. He considered briefly and spoke again. "We would not stop you if you proceeded further on foot through the copse behind us and followed the path until it curved to the left. Nor would we say a word if at that point you struck off eastward through the bushes." He glanced upwards at the sky which was beginning to darken faster than ever in an abnormally early dusk and the ever-gathering clouds. "I would hasten my steps though, if I were you,' he said. Mars is acting very strangely tonight."
We thanked them and hurriedly crossed the copse and proceeded deeper still into the dark woods. An eerie wind rose and a light rain began to fall. Our hearts were pounding in our chests as we left the path and struck off into the bushes. Charlie, clearing the way in front, pushed aside a dripping branch and froze - adrenalin coursed through our veins. There, facing us, was a silent, staring group of wizards, eyes wide in fright, absolutely motionless. They were frozen in stone! Obviously, basilisks also still roamed this forest primeval, and now the mystery of what had happened to the last Horntail expedition in 1976 was finally solved.
Suddenly we heard low squeaky-growly sounds to our left. Carefully, we circled out to form a spearhead and crept closer. We found ourselves in a clearing, with a low granite dome in front of us. Near a fissure in the dome, a newborn nest of very weird looking newborn baby dragons stumbled about. And we were immediately ready to pee our pants, because where the babies are, the mamas can't be far behind. Karenlee was all for beating it immediately - the rain was starting to come down very strong now, and her sensitive snuffer was picking up traces of ammonia steaming up from the ground which is secreted only by the most dangerous of dragons. But Charlie said he could not go another step without taking a wee. And Vic, of course, started going all broody and making clucking noises. And then it took Charlie SO LONG. And the dragons WERE kind of cute, you don't often see them as young as this. So when Vic suggested trying to get closer, we were all willing and slowly approached in a manner not to startle them. You could see they were slightly scared, but also extremely curious.
Vic gave out some low, purring growls which seemed to reassure them, and before you knew it, we each had one in our laps - tickling their bellies and making them sneeze sparks. It was wonderful! Until the earth started shaking. It was soft at first, but rapidly pounded nearer and nearer. The pools of water forming in the rain were rimmed with widening, rippling waves. Suddenly, a wild shriek of reptile rage burst around us. The branches over our heads exploded into flame that sizzled into steam in the rain. The tree trunks snapped as if they were matches. And there, raging into the clearing like a tower of doom - was 'F'! She was an awful sight for a group of wizards as unprepared for battle as we, what with arms full of baby dragons and Charlie with the wrong wand in his hand. 'Retreat!' he yelled - with great authority, considering he was madly hopping up and down, trying to get his pants up and to his broom at the same time. Finally, with an expression of relief, he reached it. With his left hand held above his broomstick, and his right hand reaching for his zipper, he shouted 'UP'! The shriek he let out almost surpassed that of the Horntail.
Vic, thank God, was in a position to react immediately. She was already in the air, dodging and distracting 'F' as well as she could. Then, with a firm, utterly focused snap of her wand she rolled in an extremely complicated, double-forked conjunctivitis curse, and... strike! A direct hit. Even this, however, would only briefly slow 'F' down, , so Karenlee and Rina couldn't waste a second, but kicked off immediately, still clutching the baby dragons. Charlie rose too, hunched in agony on his broom, but masterfully rising above his pain to shout out regrouping orders in a voice that was rather high and squeaky.
We tried to follow his directions, but 'F' stumbled in a blind, maddened rage that was difficult to get around, sending unexpected shots of flame in every direction. One would have incinerated Rina if not for his astonishing flying skills - he managed to swerve in a steep, 180 degree sideways bank, steering his broom with just one hand because of the baby dragon, and escaped with nothing but a light scorch. But as he whizzed out of it, in perfect control, his impudent delight in his skill got the better of him. In a dazzling display of broomsmanship he whizzed back in again, swooping right over the nose of the still-blinded Horntail. Holding the baby dragon under his left arm, steering just with his knees, he reached out with his right hand and plucked one long, black hair from between 'F's ugly eyes before shooting steeply to safety in the sky. Not QUITE fast enough, however. She felt which direction that Dwarf mosquito had headed off in, and sent up a torch that severely burned the back of his pants.
Karenlee didn't have to face the dragon directly. But she came off worst of all. Her baby dragon had started wriggling and screaming so hard when 'F' appeared that she had a very hard time holding on and steering to where the others were trying to gather. And let's be honest - Karen's brooming abilities leave as much to be desired as her fashion sense. But finally she made her way around to join them at the edge of the clearing. They hurriedly shot off, trying to get away before 'F's eyes cleared so she couldn't see which direction they'd headed in and follow them. But as Karen ascended she couldn't resist turning her head in the driving rain, to make a last smug, nyah-nyah-nyah face at the dragon, and flew straight into a local Hungarian whomping willow, which took off a good part of her nose with one good smack.
It was a subdued, wounded, soaking-wet group that weaved its airborne way back to Budapest in the drizzling rain, whispering softly so as not to disturb the two baby dragons that fell asleep over Esztergom.
Enforced Day of Rest in Budapest
We had taken measure of what we were up against. It was now time to recover, regroup, consult and prepare. Karen's sensitive, pointed, upturned nose was always of great value snuffling out danger, and this must be given time to regrow. And Rina - he couldn't ride on his burned bottom. To say nothing of poor Charlie! Everyone was extremely concerned about him, but what with all the hot water bottles, baskets of fruit, and therapeutic massages he was getting, we were all confident he would soon start to feel like his old frisky self again. We gave ourselves a day of rest to digest our experiences, relax, and get ready for the next major step.
Leaving Charlie to the tender mercies of the resident house elf Bonky, the rest of us took off, albeit bandaged, to see the city. This was muggle territory, and we went in on foot across a bridge that gave a wonderful view of the two parts of the city - Buda and Pest - separated by the Danube. They were so different - the ancient left side nestled in hills, with the old fortresses and fortifications crowning the banks (the dragon nesting ground was behind this). On the right, frozen in time, was one of the last gracious architectural remnants of the Austrio-Hungarian empire. In the distance, we saw them connected by the famous Szechenyi Chain Bridge. The visual combination was intoxicating. The magic still floated in the air - even in the bus where you had to punch stupid little purple tickets over and again and no one asked if you wanted a cup of hot chocolate or even offered you a toothbrush. Even the muggles seemed half-enchanted!
And no wonder - everywhere we walked was saw tributes to the things that the wizarding world holds dear and noble. The Gryffin, the Raven (or eagle, if you want to get picky), even the gentle Badger! There were also lovingly preserved statues of great Hungarian wizards of yore, such as Kurt the Capable, Echegoyen the Eccentric and Kmieciak the Cuckoo. All this could not have remained in place without a strong wizarding center of power nearby, which even the muggles would feel and be influenced by. And to tell you the truth (and this reporter gives you nothing BUT!) there is actually a strong suspicion among the rest of the magical community - whispered to us by Vic who should know - that Durmstrang is located somewhere very, very near.
We made the most of the pleasure this day had to offer us, fully aware that we could be dead tomorrow. We saw all the highlights of the city and were struck with awe by its grandeur and marvelous architecture. It was stunning. Even Vic, with her sensitive appreciation for beauty could hardly describe it all afterwards. We examined the rare and wonderful tomes offered by the Hungarian bookshops - we were having a glorious time, when we suddenly ran into a lost child, frightened and sobbing in front of a statue of an ancient local hero named Anonymous. Vic took off to employ her powers in finding the parents, and Rina tried to calm the child. It was obvious what was bothering her - Anonymous looked just like a Dementor. When Rina climbed up to the statue and safely gave it a kiss without having his soul sucked out, the child was comforted. But Vic still wasn't back and what do you do with a strange child? The most famous pastry shop in all of Hungary was right next to us, so we went there and settled at an outdoor table and ordered the most delicious cakes they had. The child watched, fascinated and amazed, as Rina finished the crafting of his new wand, inserting the dragon hair he had plucked from 'F' at the core. The little brat didn't even have ears for Karenlee, who was sampling the delicious local pastry while quoting out of the greatest book ever written. Breathlessly she watched as Rina did a practice wave over his head, then aimed the wand at a cucumber on the next table and said, "Wingardium Leviosa". As it rose, he clapped with glee, and smiled in delighted appreciation.
Into the Heart of Darkness
Things don't happen by accident. When Vic turned up with the parents of the little child, they turned out to be wizards. Their village had been destroyed by one of 'F's most recent rampages. They, like others, had seen the wizardly infrastructure collapsing about them in the face of the beast. They knew that if you apparated to another continent, you'd better have a magical green card to show - which was impossible to get in the chaos. There had even been rioting in their community at the end over the Portkeys! Now they, like other refugees, were wandering around the big muggle cities. Trying to make sense of things, trying to regroup and decide what to do next. When the father, Yves, heard we were planning an attack the next day, he would hear of nothing but coming along and trying to help us stop 'F' once and for all.
In the early pre-dawn we rapidly flew to the on-site camp deep in wilderness to prepare the trap that would bring about 'F's downfall. The sight of dragon skeletons fossilized in the ground all around gave us hope - if others had found their dragons and slain them, why shouldn't we? In the primitive hut, Vic sharpened the spears while Charlie, Yves, Rina and Karenlee dug out a huge pit. The spears were installed point up at the bottom with strong holdfastum charms to ensure 'F' would not be able to get out once she fell on them. The pit was covered with a huge invisibility cloak - and then, there was nothing to do but wait for darkness to fall.
Oh, what would we have done without Charlie during those last, anxious, nervous hours (actually, what wouldn't we have doing with him - ahem!). The way he kept joking to break the tension, the way he flipped the tender dragon filet mignons (our last meal?) over the camp fire, the proud, masculine way he kept tenderly readjusting his trousers around his privates. The steaks almost burned, Charlie having gone off with Vic to collect new twigs for the fire, but EVENTUALLY they returned - just in time (with more twigs in their hair than in their arms), and we all ate and fortified ourselves for the Armageddon that lay ahead.
The Final Countdown
(Europe's biggest number one hit starts up in background)
The moment of truth had arrived. Nervously, we all positioned ourselves. Vic, standing near the pit, started sending up sharp, piercing cries, cunningly sounding as if they were coming from within - the exact same sound made by a baby Horntail in distress. She had spent hours the night before talking with the baby dragons to get it just right. We circled, we waited - and then we heard her coming.
'Charles', said Yves suddenly in a harsh sort of voice. 'Charles, look down there.' From above, 'F' was a gruesome sight, her yellow eyes glowing, her claws like Gryffindor swords, her back full of scars from other, unsuccessful attacks, including a rusty spade still sticking out from the last major attempt in 1976. She lumbered straight towards the trap, Vic's mewing voice leading her unerringly on and, with a horrendous crash - she was in!!! The holdfastum charms held long enough for us to drop net after net of fire repellent lizard hide on top - she struggled and shrieked and blasted, but we had her pinned. Then the charms rained down: one after the other, from different directions - stunning charms to make her weaker and weaker, followed up by charms so destructive you only learn them in the last week of your last year at Hogwarts. Charlie, flying 25 feet above the trap , kept track of their impact, and shouted out a non-stop stream of revisions to the charm coordinates. One hour, I tell you. One hour of the toughest, most concentrated magical work any of us had ever done. Our wand arms were trembling and the sweat was pouring from us - none of us knew how much longer we could keep it up - when suddenly, it was over. The dragon's head fell, a last shudder trembled throughout her body - and she was dead. Dead as a doorknob. We couldn't believe it - the most horrible creature to threaten the wizarding world since You-Know-Who, and we were the instruments of its downfall!
Yves and Charlie quickly dug a pool for the ritual, purifying bath in dragon blood - an anachronism in this day and age, we know. By now, many new horrible curses and back-breaking hexes have been discovered against which a dragon blood bath is as effective as an ice-cream umbrella against a thunderstorm. But it gave us a satisfying sense of tradition and closure to do so, and as a refreshing clean-up, it was wonderful. We floated in the warm dragon blood pool for nearly an hour and it was just ... heaven! The last thing we did was take the skin as a trophy and proof of our success (and actually, we all did did have something of a yen for some flashy, souvenir, Hungarian dragon-hide boots).
Rejoice - Sulphur-Breath is Gone at Last!
As we flew back, weary, but full of joy, the news spread ahead of us like wildfire! Magical bonfires shooting up rainbow sparks were lit one after another below us, guiding us back to the city. We all slept that night as if drugged, and awoke to find cheering crowds of wizard refugees packing the street outside the window. They had magicked even the muggles into feeling there was something to celebrate - something about the anniversary of some wall coming down. Children danced in the streets, music was joyfully made, processions organized.
We were formally escorted with a royal honour guard to the Parliament building where we were all officially inducted into the Order of the Hungarian Empire. That night, a royal command ballet performance was held at the Opera House, featuring Hungary's greatest dancer who was specially broomed in from Vienna to play the leading role in 'The Taming of the Beast'. As a fitting closure, an amazing series of Fillibuster Fireworks was set off in the night sky over the Danube, while the joyful crowds sang "Ding, Dong, the Dragon's Dead". It was a fitting end to a day that would go down in wizarding history - the horrible Hungarian Horntail was defeated at last!
Epilogue
Making their individual ways back home, the members of our brave delegation were all startled by the sound of their mophile bones going off. OK, Rina was an expert, having had one already, but Vic and Karen were still unaccustomed to this unexpected muggle gift Charlie had given them. In any case, all answered with caution.
"Hello," said Charlie. "Are you all there"?
"Yes", we all shouted into the bones.
"Good. Because MoM has just contacted me about a new assignment. They are very impressed with the way we handled things here, and it seems there's big trouble up north at the moment. They're realizing they can get more effect out of a good, international team in such a situation than in trying to do it on their own which, knowing MoM, doesn't surprise me. I think it's a very good development - an approach I'm willing to support and coordinate. But only if I know I have a good team behind me. This is still so new, but you've already proven yourselves in a similar situation. Would you be willing to join me and take on the job?"
We all gulped, deeply honoured, and said yes.
Charlie let out a yell like a war whoop. "I knew you would," he cried. "I knew I could count on you!" Finally he composed himself and settled down to business. "OK," he said seriously, "here's the scoop. Tell me Angels, have you ever heard of a place called Edinburgh?"
...to be continued!
Witches Weekly declares itself free of responsibility and liability for any inaccuracies in this text (especially considering who wrote it). Rita's ramblings and other Crucial Facts can be checked by comparing with official MoM reports submitted every night by Horntail crew while on location (to be viewed in Horntail Hunt thread on IGN board).