[closed] eternally loyal.

[jetset]

who: albus dumbledore (incantati) ; jet (jetset) ; dro
what: old friends meet; new acquaintances are made.
when: noon-ish, 19th february
where: the lobby
rating: pg
notes: wherein laura realises she should probably address this and get it out of the way

Albus stepped in from the cold, brushing the snow from the tops of his shoulders as the warmth of the lobby closed in around him. He stamped his feet against the ground before closing the doors behind him, taking a deep breath. The brisk walk and the cold air had revived him; there was now time for some light reading before he prepared himself and Fawkes a little lunch.

He'd been taking regular walks ever since he'd returned to the castle; more than ever now, his head felt almost full to bursting with thoughts and theories, emotion and conflict. Paradisa, again. During his first sojourn here, he'd given much thought to going back home, and what awaited him there, but he'd never once thought that the world would see fit to bring him back... and leave him with his memories of his first stay here, no less.

It was strange to think, that while he'd been at home, he'd had possession of the memories which were now lost to him; the sister that he had learnt about, but would never really know while Paradisa held him in its grasp. Albus slipped off his gloves and tucked them into his pockets as he closed his eyes briefly. To think of Ariana was to feel a cold hand touching the inside of his chest; it would probably always be that way.

He contemplated apparating up to his room, but decided instead to take the long way up, and perhaps pop into the library while he was at it. He was trying to remember the name of the author that had been referenced in the last Transfiguration text that he'd read (Persius Diggle? Peter Diggle?) when a low rumbling from across the lobby reached his ears.

He turned in that direction, immediately alert, his hand already gravitating towards his pocket. Not far from the entrance to the kitchen stood a large, majestic Arcanine, growling softly in his direction. A half-eaten cabbage lay at its feet, and its mane was alight with the glow emanating from the kitchen. Albus relaxed as the rumbling continued; he recognised it for what it was, a sound of welcome, rather than menace. He smiled as he thought of Veritas, the enthusiastic Growlithe that he had met a few days earlier. He would always be especially fond of this species of Pokémon.

He gave the creature a jaunty wave, and started off towards the stairs, but to his surprise, the Arcanine trotted towards him immediately, still growling pleasantly. Albus smiled, and stopped in his tracks as he prepared to conjure up a few fruits. If the creature was desirous of company, he could certainly provide that for a few moments.

The Arcanine came closer, and Albus' wand hand paused mid-movement. His heart gave a pleasant little jolt as he looked into those grave, wise eyes, noted the fall of the splendid mane, and spotted a long scar along the left flank. Goodness, but it couldn't be--yes, it could, this was--

"Dro?"

The animal did not answer, of course, except to growl even more deeply, and butt his head to Albus' as he drew level with him. Albus sank his hand into the mane, and immediately knew. It was Dro. He laughed in surprise and pleasure as he ruffled his old friend's mane, feeling the warm breath against his face.

"Merlin's beard... I thought you'd left Paradisa forever, old boy." Dro huffed, and butted him again. Albus chuckled, still half in awe, and gave the Pokémon a light hug. "You've made my day considerably brighter. What a wonderful surprise!"

He pulled back, looking at Dro, noticing all the familiar features that he had not taken in earlier. He smiled warmly. Dro had never truly belonged to him, of course, but they had been companions, and he had taken care of the sad, serious and yet fiercely loyal creature as best as he could have, after the departure of his previous masters. They had become fast friends; Albus could have only asked for a better animal companion in Fawkes.

"What are you doing lunching in the lobby, hmm?" With a sharp flick of his wrist, he brought the half-eaten cabbage zooming towards them. Dro consumed it in one large bite. "Who is taking care of you now?"

Dro turned his head to look towards the half-open kitchen door, through which light was still spilling. As if on demand, the door swung open fully, and a tall, shaggy haired youth emerged from it, holding a hunk of bread in one hand and a large head of lettuce in the other. His features were familiar to Albus, as a face seen in an almost forgotten dream. The youth's eyes landed on the spot which Dro has just vacated, and not finding him there, cast about the lobby in fresh search. Upon locating him, his dark eyebrows arched impressively, zeroing in on Albus' hand on Dro's shoulder. Dro himself started off for the teen almost immediately, throwing a look back at Albus that obviously said he was to follow. After a moment, he did. He was almost certain he knew who this person was.

It was confirmed, in the way Dro sat next to him, adopting the stance of a protector and a friend all at once. The boy passed the lettuce to him, which Dro immediately crunched into. This done, he turned towards Albus, and gave him a quick once-over.

"Hey. Sorry if he was bugging you, or anything."

"Oh, most certainly not," Albus hastened to say. "Dro and I were just saying hello."

The youth's eyebrows arched even higher, which Albus would not have thought possible.

"Riiight... sorry, do I know you?"

Albus extended his hand.

"No, I don't believe we'd had the pleasure, but I have some idea of your identity. I am Albus Dumbledore."

"Jet." They shook hands briefly, after a moment of sceptical hesitation on Jet's part. "Looks like you've got one up on me; I have no idea who you are, or why you know Dro."

Albus felt his pleasant smile threaten to widen, but he stayed it; he had the feeling that Jet might think that he was the source of amusement.

"It's nothing sinister, I assure you. Dro and I were companions for a while a few years ago, after you and Smellerbee left."

Jet's eyebrows shot up to his hairline, and he glanced at Dro, who was still quietly crunching on his meal. Almost out of reflex, it seemed to Albus, his hand reached for the Arcanine's powerful shoulder, and rested there.

"I heard he was running wild in the forest all this time."

Albus knew a sudden pang of sympathy for Dro. He would have never wanted that for him... but perhaps that was what he had wanted. Adopting a fourth master might not have appealed to him. Arcanines, he knew, were eternally loyal.

"Not quite,” Albus explained. "After you left, Smellerbee took him in--"

"Of course she did," Jet cut across, sounding both thoughtful and proud. Albus let his smile widen now.

"Yes, of course. She took him in, and I met him a few times, as Smellerbee and I were friends." An overstatement, perhaps; Albus remembered Smellerbee fondly as something of a curmudgeon, but he had liked her, and the reverse had been true. "After she left, I found him, and took him in, naturally, for as far as I knew, none of your other friends remained in Paradisa. He was amenable to the change, and chose to remain with me."

Jet nodded slowly, still regarding Albus with something of a calculating gaze.

"Thanks for that, I guess. He probably needed it."

Albus inclined his head with a smile.

"It was no trouble whatsoever. I'm simply glad that you'd found each other once again."

Jet bit off a piece of bread, and chewed, watching Albus thoughtfully. There was a small amount of accusation in his eyes.

"How'd he end up in the forest, then? Did you decide you'd had enough of him, or...?"

"Oh, certainly not." Albus threw another commiserating glance towards Dro. "I would have never tired of his companionship; he made a very true friend. Dro must have departed to live in the forest after I left, about a year and a half ago. I'm truly sorry to have left him like that, but--"

"Wait, wait," Jet interrupted sharply, holding up a hand. He had the mannerisms of someone who was used to his words being heeded and carried out without comment or hesitation. Albus politely complied with the request, and waited for a continuation. "You left?"

"Oh, yes. I only returned to Paradisa about two months ago."

Jet's eyebrows were performing impressive acrobatics once again.

"If you left, then how the heck do you remember--" He cut himself off as the only answer dawned on him, and he looked at Albus anew, this time in surprise and interest. "You're one of those Paris people. The ones who remember."

Albus nodded.

"That I am. Though I must confess that being thought of as a Parisian is fairly amusing to me; I couldn't hope to have even half of their style or flair."

Jet stared at him and blinked twice before moving on.

"Huh. What's it like?"

"Remembering?" Albus paused. "It is not the simplest thing to put into words. Not all of the memories are crystal clear yet, and may never be; it took me a while to recognise Dro. All the same, it is something of a boon, to be able to recall my experiences and friends here."

"Yeah?" Jet took another bite of bread, while Dro blinked at Albus peaceably. "You don't feel like you've got a target on you back or something?"

It was Albus' turn to raise an eyebrow gently, the left side of his mouth lifting.

"I hadn't quite thought of it in that sense, no," he said wryly. "But I comprehend your meaning. Who knows if we have been singled out specially, or if the choosing was random?"

Jet leaned against the kitchen's doorway, tunnelling his free hand into Dro's mane.

"I guess it would have been useful, to know how this place worked, to not feel like this is all some seriously bad joke, to know about Dro from the get-go, but..."

"But I am sure you managed quite fine as it was," Albus finished for him.

Jet shrugged.

"Yep."

Albus had the feeling that the youth still wasn't quite acclimatised to life in Paradisa, which was more than understandable. It suddenly came to him, in a quick flash of memory, where he'd seen Jet's face before. When the castle had taken all of the residents' memories away from them and spread them all over the castle in visual and readable formats, he had found a picture of Smellerbee, crying over Jet's broken and expiring body. He looked at the young man lounging comfortably against the door, and wondered, sadly, if he knew.

"May I ask how long you have been a resident of Paradisa?" Albus questioned, driving the thoughts of the boy's death out of his mind.

"Six months or so. Long enough, you know?"

Albus nodded.

"I know. It seems like you have already reformed your bond with Dro," he observed, looking at the comfortable placement of Jet's hand on his companion's head. Jet gave a soft half-laugh.

"Yeah, well. It was kinda easy, you know? Dro's a good, dependable kinda guy. Doesn't mess around and likes the same things I like. We were gonna go for a run after lunch, actually."

Albus straightened up at once.

"Oh, I'm sorry; how rude of me. I hope I haven't been keeping you from your leisure."

Jet waved it away.

"Leisure and exercise. And don't sweat it; it was cool talking to you. Right, Dro?"

Dro rumbled pleasantly, dipping his head at Albus. Jet leaned off of her door and threw the remainder of his bread to Dro, who demolished it in no time at all. Albus watched as he took a stalk of wheat from somewhere behind his ear and inserted it into his mouth.

"Thanks again, for what you did for him."

Albus smiled warmly.

"And I say again, that it was my utter pleasure." They shook again, this time in a friendlier manner. Albus released Jet's hand after a moment to ruffle Dro's mane. "Please, don't be a stranger, Dro. I'm sure Fawkes would love to see you again."

"Fawkes?"

"My pet phoenix," Albus explained. "He and Dro were chums. And please, if you ever have any questions regarding Dro or Arcanines on the whole, please don't hesitate to contact me."

Jet nodded.

"Yeah, I'll do that. It was good meeting you, uh... it was Albus, right?"

"Correct." Albus smiled at him as he turned to go. "I can say the same, Jet. Take care, both of you."

"Will do."

Albus started off for the stairs to the Satis Tower, turning back once to wave at the pair. He smiled to himself. What a lucky chance encounter. When he had realised, upon return to Paradisa, that Fawkes had left when he had (only to return once again shortly after Paris) he had assumed that the same fate had befallen Dro. It had been presumptuous of him, he now realised. But no matter. Dro was now reunited with his original master. Jet was troubled in some ways, certainly; Albus could sense it. But he had no doubt that he and Dro would help each other at every stage of their Paradisan journey. The fact that they were excellent partners was patently obvious.

He smiled fondly at the thought, and decided, abruptly, to apparate up to his room after all. He waited until he had reached a landing before turning on the spot, sweeping himself into the void.

Albus landed soundlessly in the midst of his pleasantly cluttered room. Fawkes, featherless and tiny on his golden perch, was waiting for him.

---

Jet watched as the skinny redhead headed to the stairs.

"Kind of a weird guy, huh?" he remarked to Dro, clamping the stalk between his teeth as Albus disappeared up the passageway. "Are you sure you didn't just pretend to like him?"

Dro huffed, and pinned him with a dry sort of look. Jet laughed.

"Kidding, kidding. He seemed nice enough."

Which was the truth. And if Smellerbee had thought he was okay, then he probably was. Jet also doubted that Dro would've spent all that time with someone who wasn't a decent guy. He already had a sizeable amount of faith in the Arcanine's intuition.

Even so, he would never take Albus -- what kind of name was that, anyway? -- up on his offer to learn about Dro from him. Somehow, it wouldn't feel right. These past few months, he'd learnt to trust and understand Dro implicitly, all on his own. If there was more to learn, he wanted to keeping on doing it just like that. When it was just the two of them. There's also the fact that Laura seriously cannot be arsed to write another one of these.

Dro was looking across at him. Jet punched him on the shoulder.

"Ready, buddy?"

Dro dipped his head in a nod, his old eyes bright with anticipation. Together, the two friends strode across the lobby, and headed out into the cold.