The Ridiculously Awesome Scary Adventurous Adventures of Fantasioso St. Catchpole-Sa16+ Author's Note: It's been a while but I hope that people still read fanfiction. Particularly mine. 
I hope everyone likes this . . . it will probably be novel length and definitely be full of adventure. 
And maybe some Teddy and Otty.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own the rights to anything HP, I may only borrow them. All hail the Queen that is J.K. Rowling.
"He was born with a gift of laughter and a sense that the world was mad." Raphael Sabatini, Scaramouche
Dragons are beautiful creatures, from a xenozoological stand point or even from a distance but up close and personal is an entirely different matter altogether, Marius thought to himself. Still, faint heart never won fair maiden, and there was no fairer maiden than the prize for which he sought this particular dragon's egg. Though his brain insisted on reminding him that a dead heart was no improvement on a faint heart. But whatever voice was reason's anti-thesis, it too was the greater and the stronger of the two.
He walked into the cave slowly, wand in hand for all the good it might do him. Surely 14 years was not a long time to have any great and true measure of life, but what good would 60 bland years be compared to 30 good adventurous ones? He sighed. Standing at the mouth of the cave he would have to decide. Do you dare or do you scare?
"It truly was a horrid thing sending him to do that Arsène. You're such a . . . such a . . . "
The man looked up from the book he was glancing through to say, "Having trouble finding the right word, dear?"
"You basilisk! You cur! Swine! I swear there aren't enough despicable words to describe your utter villainy," she ended with a huff and sitting down in the chair in the darkened study.
"Yet you just came out with three. Amusing. But seriously Amelia, we don't have time for these silly little shenanigans. I'm expecting a very important guest. Do you want to make tea?" He asked with the utmost sincerity.
The man was not trying to be difficult. He was not trying to be smart, quite honestly, and Amelia well knew this, it was just that Arsène could not help but be a total self-involved git. It came of dealing with genius, Amelia knew, and sighed. Genius or not someday his capricious nature would cost him her help. It wasn't a lot of people who could handle correspondence, some of which was cursed, and potentially lethal, as well as the occasional errand that sent her to dangerous places, and then outright felony which had resulted in breaking and entering, stealing and other assorted criminal acts all in the name of capturing the bad guy. Arsène was hardly a hero, but that didn't preclude him doing heroic things.
Amelia stood up, and walked out of the study. The slamming door left Arsène without the certainty of tea. But then again, what was magic for if not for the little things.
"You're going to frighten that girl away, Monsieur. You should have a care," came a soft purring voice from what one could have mistaken for a bookend, in the shape of a grey tabby.
"She's a secretary, Ollie, don't get so misty eyed." He slammed the book he was holding and put it down on his desk. It did not contain any mention of the sacred stones of amarais. "She's easily replaced--"
The door opened just then. Amelia stood there flabbergasted. At a loss for words, yet again. Not for any silly romantic notion, clearly. Not in the girlish way she wished she could have a man leave her. No. In the usual way, sadly. The way Arsène always left her . . . wondering which of a plethora of foul words to use to scream at the man.
"Dumbledore," was the only word that came out. She slammed the door again.
"You seriously are pushing it," the cat replied.
