Hermione’s approach didn’t catch Draco’s attention at all—his entire focus was fixed on the dragon egg, which was gently rocking in place.
It wouldn’t be long now. The hatchling was about to break free.
Co to think of it, the na “Draco” in Latin ant both “dragon” and “Draco constellation,” and perhaps, influenced by sothing deep within his soul, Draco had always felt an inexplicable connection to these legendary creatures.
Not even the fragrant presence of Hermione at his side—who he’d been rather close to just monts ago—could pull his attention away.
No wonder her expression was a mixture of confusion and irritation.
Still, as the egg continued to tremble, even Hermione’s curiosity got the better of her. She crouched down beside him to get a closer look at the dragon that was about to be born...
Although Hagrid’s lifestyle could be described generously as “unbothered” or bluntly as “a complete ss,” when it ca to hatching dragon eggs, he actually seed to know his stuff.
Female dragons usually breathed warm air on their eggs to keep them at the right temperature, so Hagrid had deliberately adjusted the hut’s heat accordingly. That also explained why it had felt so uncomfortably warm when they first arrived.
This thod of placing the egg near the fireplace was sothing Draco had never seen before. It might’ve been a bit unorthodox—or even desperate—but it looked like Hagrid had gotten it right by accident.
At the very least, the dragon inside hadn’t died.
“This is... a dragon egg?”
Hermione, who had never had the chance to see one up close, found herself captivated by the tiny life within. Even her urge to interrogate Draco about how much of their earlier conversation he had overheard completely slipped her mind.
Draco, entirely unaware that he’d crossed a line with Hermione earlier, took it upon himself to beco her impromptu dragon egg guide the mont he heard her question.
“Yeah. Judging by the shell, I’d say it’s a Norwegian Ridgeback.”
“...”
“It’s hard to believe we’re actually about to witness a dragon’s birth!”
Hermione stared at Draco, montarily stunned by the pure excitent on his face. Her eyes lingered on his expression longer than she ant to.
As she quietly studied his profile, a strange thought popped into her head—at this mont, Draco looked... kind of cute (?)
The ridiculous notion made her snicker softly like a mischievous little fox.
“My dear Miss Granger, might I ask what you’re laughing at?”
“Ahem! Nothing. You must be seeing things.”
“Oh? I get the feeling you were thinking sothing a little rude.”
Draco turned toward her suddenly, suspicion in his eyes. Hermione, not exactly skilled at lying, imdiately grew flustered, fiddling with a lock of her ssy hair as the smile on her lips stiffened.
Maybe neither of them realized it, but whenever Draco was around Hermione, he completely dropped the noble, elegant persona he usually maintained. He always seed eager to see her embarrassed, while Hermione, in turn, lost all her usual cleverness and composure in front of him.
Maybe that’s why Draco couldn’t help acting a little differently around her...
Unable to handle the weight of his gaze, Hermione quickly pretended to be nonchalant and threw out another question.
“Norwegian Ridgeback?”
Draco was certain Hermione was just trying to change the subject—but when it ca to anything dragon-related, there was no way he could just ignore it.
As a devoted dragon enthusiast, Draco wasn’t about to pass up a chance to educate his fellow wizards.
“Look at it—the beautiful, scale-like shell and that distinctive color. It’s obvious this is a Norwegian Ridgeback.”
“I see. So when will it hatch?”
“Very soon. Judging by how much it’s shaking, it should break out of its shell any minute now.”
Hermione, now visibly intrigued, began asking question after question like an eager student, and Draco, taking on the role of instructor, happily shared everything he knew without holding anything back.
Then sothing occurred to him, and he shifted his gaze to Hagrid, who stood nearby with hands clasped to his chest, praying nervously.
“By the way, Hagrid—did you prepare any food for the hatchling?”
“Huh?!”
“What do you an?”
The look of shock and confusion on Hagrid’s face made Draco frown deeply. He was starting to worry that Hagrid might go down in history as the first wizard to accidentally starve a dragon to death.
“I an food. Do you know what it needs?”
Feeling bad at the sight of Hagrid’s remorseful expression, Hermione quickly turned to Draco, asking about the proper care for baby dragons. Draco also understood that now wasn’t the ti to point fingers.
“Quick—get so brandy and chicken blood. I’ll show you how to feed the hatchling when it’s ready.”
“I... I got it. I’m such an idiot. I don’t deserve to be this little one’s mum!”
Blubbering and wiping his tears, Hagrid rushed out of the hut to gather the ingredients Draco had listed. At that mont, he completely forgot about wanting to be the first thing the baby dragon saw when it opened its eyes.
“Hagrid didn’t an to ss up. He just didn’t expect it to hatch so soon.”
“I hope that’s all it is. If not, I wouldn’t mind claiming the right to raise it myself.”
Draco’s blatant disregard for Wizarding Law earned an exasperated eye roll from Hermione.
“As if raising a dragon is sothing you can just do on a whim...”
She was already stressing over how to talk Hagrid out of this whole dragon-raising plan, and now, before she’d even co up with a strategy, Draco was jumping in trying to steal the hatchling from him.
Are all dragon-loving wizards this reckless?
...
This entire ti, Harry hadn’t been able to get a single word in. He felt like he’d been completely left out of the conversation between Draco and Hermione. The effortless way they interacted made him even more confused.
“I an, I knew they got along... but this well?”
Harry wasn’t even sure what he was basing that thought on, but the way the two of them talked didn’t feel distant at all. If anything, there was a strange, rival-like closeness between them.
Especially with that rosy blush on Hermione’s face and her soft smile—Harry had never seen her like this before.
As for Ron, still standing silently in the distance and refusing to co any closer, his eyes flicked back and forth between Draco and Hermione with an unmistakably bitter look. No one knew what the red-haired Weasley was thinking.
But with everyone’s attention focused on the soon-to-hatch dragon, no one noticed the glint of hostility in Ron’s eyes.
Maybe one day, that buried malice would co to the surface...
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