DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.
Prologue - Flight of the Dragons
The sun was painting the ocean a fiery red. It's long fingers stretching across the rolling waters and falling upon the land. Her eyes rested on the animals basking in the fading light, their wings unfurled to catch the final rays of the day. Smiling lovingly, she glanced at the creature resting beside her, his head held elegantly as he watched over his clan. A twitch at the back of her mind had her stirring and looking regretfully at the boiling surf.
"It is time," she whispered. A pale hand was raised and run down the massive dragon's crest. His scales glittered a brilliant scarlet under the fading sun, small flecks of gold shining as he shifted. Folded wings rustled gently. "You must go now, love."
Her hand fell away and she turned slowly, pulling the hood of her cloak over her face. Cries and screams rose in the distance. She shuddered slightly as something slammed into the wards of her manor, a shiver running up her spine. "They come." Her murmur was carried away by the wind, the words carelessly discarded over the churning waters crashing urgently against the face of the cliff.
A strong wind rose and dragged at the cloak, yanking the concealing hood off. Grimacing as a lock of dark hair was pulled from its binding, she reached up and brushed at the strand. Sighing when it was quickly recaptured by the rush of air, she loosened the leather tie and let the wind have the rest. The earth rumbled beneath her but she continued on the path, feet carrying her towards the dark stoned manor.
She glided down the worn track calmly, eyes resting on the iron gate guarding the driveway. A small smile crept over her face as she noticed the figure standing within arms reach of the metal. Narrowing her eyes, she focused on the glowing bow he held. She nodded politely, internally grinning as he sneered at her. Bowing her head, she locked her fingers in the material of her gown, concentrating on reinforcing the struggling wards. The silver skirt was tugged and pulled by the harsh wind, molding itself to her body as she plowed onward.
She had known they would come like she knew it was going to rain. Her wards crackled angrily, the magic fighting some unseen foe at the far edge of her land. Her eyes returned to her unwanted guest, watching quietly as he drew his wand and aimed it at the gates. Shaking her head, she laughed in delight when his spell failed to breach the carefully laid wards. She stalked gracefully over the gravel of the drive, well made boots hardly stirring the stone.
Placing a hand on the heavy stone railing that ran the side of the entrance stairs, she turned her head and paused silently. Green eyes locked on the second figure standing impatiently next to the first. For one moment, she felt the urge to take the offense. To attack brutally without thought of the consequences. The feeling faded, replaced by quiet resolve. She would die this night.
"Only for you, my king." She murmured, climbing the stairs and halting at the top. Turning, she arranged her dress and cloak before sitting down. She cast her eyes up at the slowly darkening sky, looking for the graceful forms that always seemed to float above her home at this time of night.
The quiet click of claws had her sighing, eyes remaining on the hunters gathering before her wards. She saw them tense as the small dragon slid from the shadows. Only the size of a small pony, the golden creature raised wings tipped with black and snarled at the sky. "You must leave, Esdra." Grumbling, the Sand Dragon lowered it's horned muzzle, bumping the object which rested hidden in a cloak pocket.
Brushing aside the beasts head, she pushed a hand into the pocket and pulled the small flute from its place. Caressing the silver, she grinned as the dragon cooed and flicked the end of its tail. "Once more but then you must go." Standing, she placed the cold metal to her mouth. Her eyes drifted closed at the first high note, cherishing the music. Cold fingers floated over the keys, each touch a loving caress.
She sniffed angrily as she felt a tear slide down her face. Brow crinkling in concentration, she allowed her fingers to fly freely over the metal. She relaxed slightly when a low rumble harmonized itself with her. The little gold crooning along in perfect synchrony. Her emerald eyes flew open as her wands screamed in warning, struggling under the assault of multiple attackers. Her lips were raised from the metal quickly, the flute vanishing back into its hiding place with practiced ease. Voices called and shouted somewhere beyond her vision.
"Go," she ordered, not bothering to look down at the dragon that stood beside her. In a crack of wings and a mourning screech, the animal hurtled into the air, riding the strong thermals higher and higher til she was lost among the clouds.
The figures at the gate had disappeared. She was not so naive as to believe they had left. They were there in the shadows waiting for the angry mob to breach her wards. To drag her to prison for murder or kill her. The decision would be theirs.
Her manor lay still and silent, no house elves or pet remaining within its strong walls. Even her stables had been emptied on command. The horses scattered across the countryside like leaves in the fall. An alarm screamed in warning, giving the signal she had been waiting for. Her wards had fallen, and before the end of the night, so would she.
Twitching the long silk skirts into place, she prowled easily down the steps. Her eyes scanned the shadows as she waved a hand behind her. The warding alarms fell quiet, leaving the countryside startlingly silent. Moving gracefully across the green lawn, she paused at the crack of dry wood. Her skirts swirled out behind her as she whipped around. Black hair was tossed thoughtlessly by the wind, the locks tangling ruthlessly. She stilled in an unnatural manner, freezing completely as an individual walked arrogantly towards her.
"You're a fool, Lady Raveana. To die for a bunch of beasts that can't even understand you." The wizard growled, his wand leveled at her chest.
Smiling, she drew her own wand and ran it through her fingers. "But I was a happy fool, Reginald." She said loudly, eyes wide as she glanced beyond his shoulder into the shadows. Her heart pounded in her ears as she caught the flicker of movement, felt the shifting around her as several people circled her.
Sneering at her, he flicked his wand and hissed a spell. The magic striking the shield she erected without thought. "Those damn beasts have made me what I am. Their blood and scales alone are worth thousands of galleons." He growled, pushing his own hair back as the wind grabbed at it.
"Someday you'll wish you had left the Mage Dragons alone, Reginald." Raveana promised, cloak billowing around her as the wind picked up. She tipped her head as the first drops of rain fell, pattering gently on the ground. She gasped at the sudden whistle of displaced air, the low hum of death approaching. Her head jerked back with the force of the blow, the arrow sliding silently home. Blinking, her fingers brushed the wooden shaft.
"You should have let me have them, Raveana." He murmured quietly, watching emotionless as she slid to her knees, one hand resting on the wood emerging from her chest.
A wolf called in the distance, the sound haunting as voices snapped and barked around her. Raveana slumped slowly, body tilting as she lost control of her quickly weakening muscles. Her eyes fluttered closed, the rain a gentle touch on her burning skin. She forced her emerald orbs open and looked past the figure standing over her. The sky was dark, lightening flickering and flashing angrily. Her lips curved as a flash outlined the large shapes hurtling over the water, wings pumping against the strong winds.
Once bright emeralds began to dim, the hand resting on the arrow's shaft falling lightly away. Sinking deeper, she felt a hand slide into her pocket and withdraw the silver flute. Fingers brushed her face, pushing dark locks away and resting on her cheek. "You should have listened to me, Potter." The words were whispered into the wind, barely audible.
"Someday you'll regret the death of every dragon you ever murdered, Malfoy." Raveana breathed her final words. As the last breath rattled in her lungs, a haunting melody began. Standing, Reginald Malfoy removed his cloak and draped it over the once proud witch. Turning, he glared over the water, cursing as the mournful cries faded. The Mage Dragons had gone.
A/N: I'll remind everyone that this is merely a prologue. What didn't make sense will eventually be explained. Thanks for reading.