Heroes Assemble!

Now, That's A Distraction!

Reserva Azteca Para Dragones. The sign hadn't changed in the years since Harry had last stood in this very spot. The only difference being that then, unlike now, the place had been closed to visitors, not that it being closed today would have stopped Harry anyway.

Cancelling his spells, Harry flipped off the hood of his cloak and strode through the entrance.

"Sir, is there something that I can help you with?"

Harry shifted his focus from the direction that he heard the sound of those that he'd really come here to see, to the man striding purposefully towards him from the closest building, set just off the main path. He had a grizzled and weather-beaten look to him, a testament to the fact that he would surely spend most of his time outdoors with his job. Unlike most wizards in the world, he wore trousers and a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbow.

As one would expect from someone living in this part of the world, his first words weren't in English, although Harry did understand them through the use of his translator earrings.

"I'm sorry, I only speak English," Harry said, stopping to allow the keeper to come to him.

"I asked if there was something that I can help you with," the man repeated in heavily-accented English.

For a second, Harry paused, not sure exactly how to explain his reason for arriving there so unexpectedly. In the end, he decided to simply go with the simple answer and let the quaffle fall where it would.

"I need a couple of your dragons," Harry said.

The dragon-keeper stared at him as though he'd said the craziest thing in the world.

"You need a couple of our dragons," the keeper eventually repeated incredulously. "This is not some muggle library for borrowing things; we do not simply lend out dragons."

"Regardless, I am here for them," Harry stated calmly. "What type do you have here?"

The keeper slowly shook his head before he seemed to decide to ignore the first part of Harry's statement and to instead answer the question.

"We only have the one kind of dragon here: Peruvian Vipertooths," the keeper replied. "They're some of the most vicious dragons that there are."

"Really? 'Cause, I faced off with a nesting mother Hungarian Horntail, back when I was still in school. Managed to get past her and reach her nest, too, I might add," Harry relayed with not a small amount of pride.

For a second the keeper simply stared at Harry, raking his eyes up and down, before he threw back his head and roared his laughter.

"You?" he laughed, tears streaming down his face. "Reach the nest of a nesting Horntail? As a child?"

"You don't believe me?" Harry asked, one eyebrow cocked, not that, if he was in the dragon keeper's place, he would have believed himself either.

"You're still alive, aren't you? You wouldn't be if your tale was true," the keeper replied matter-of-factly.

"How many Vipertooths do you have here?" Harry asked, trying to get the conversation back on track.

"One hundred and thirteen," the keeper replied as he wiped his face with the back of his arm. "Almost too many for our Reserve to handle."

"In that case, my taking a couple off your hands works in both our favour," Harry replied, turning to stride away towards where he could hear the dragons.