So wizards are simply born different.
Take Salazar Slytherin, or Tom Riddle—both were gifted with a rare talent: the ability to speak to snakes.
Unlike rperson or Goblin languages, which can be studied and learned, this was a gift—an innate ability granted by fate.
A gift so rare, the wizarding world gave it a na: Parseltongue.
So far, only two known wizards in history had displayed this envious trait. Coincidentally, both hailed from Slytherin House.
And now, Draco—also a Slytherin—seed to have awakened a similar power.
Only, in his case, it wasn’t snakes he could understand... but dragons.
...
As the saying goes, “The tallest tree catches the wind.” The mont Draco realized what he was capable of, he schooled his expression and kept it hidden—even from Hermione and the others.
It wasn’t a matter of mistrusting Hermione. Sotis, it’s better not to know too much. And an ability like this—being able to communicate with dragons—was sothing that demanded caution.
Given the lingering fear from the First Wizarding War, any ability resembling Parseltongue could easily provoke suspicion among more paranoid wizards. Which ant Draco had no choice but to keep it secret.
More than that, Draco already sensed this was no ordinary gift. It wasn’t just about talking to dragons—it could very well beco one of his greatest assets.
Because the little creature at his feet... was unusually fond of him.
That wasn’t sothing the books ever ntioned. Dragons were notoriously aloof and territorial. They didn’t imprint on the first person they saw, and even as hatchlings, they possessed a surprising level of intelligence. They weren’t the type to act cute or clingy with humans.
Hermione’s experience proved that well enough. And it wasn’t like they were the sa gender and repelling each other... right?
Realizing this, Draco suddenly understood—it wasn’t just about understanding dragon speech. It might also be... a natural affinity with dragons.
His chest stirred with heat and excitent. Smiling, he gently tapped the hatchling on the head with his fingertip.
“Maybe... I really could beco a dragon rider?”
Draco had always dread—fantasized, even—about soaring through the skies on a majestic dragon.
But in the wizarding world, dragon ownership was heavily restricted. Even with the influence of the Malfoy family, it was nearly impossible for him to legally possess one.
And yet, looking at this little one... maybe, just maybe, there was a chance.
“Gah?”
Sensing sothing strange in the way the human was looking at her, the newborn dragon shifted uncomfortably, giving her tail an anxious flick.
“Draco, you scared her!”
Hermione, though lacking Draco’s talent for understanding dragon speech, was focused enough on the hatchling to notice her annoyed tail flick.
Thinking back to how Draco had tapped her head earlier, Hermione imdiately assud he was bullying the poor little thing.
Having already grown attached to the adorable creature, Hermione quickly stepped in, stopping Draco’s actions and reaching out to the baby dragon.
“Co here, co to ~”
Maybe it was because she saw how close the hatchling was to Draco that Hermione wanted the sa treatnt. So she copied his gesture, cautiously extending her finger toward the baby dragon.
Draco, watching her treat the dragon like a pet dog, couldn’t help but twitch at the corners of his mouth.
Of course.
Even as a hatchling, dragons were proud and unruly by nature. The little one clearly wasn’t interested in Hermione’s affection. With an almost disdainful snort, she turned her backside toward Hermione, who froze awkwardly.
Draco nearly burst out laughing.
No—he was already laughing...
...
Just as Hermione was about to blow up from embarrassnt and fury, Hagrid finally returned, slipping inside with two large buckets in hand after what felt like forever.
“How is it? Is Norbert okay?”
Hagrid’s attempt at sneaking in drew deadpan stares from everyone.
Did he really think his massive fra could go unnoticed just by tiptoeing?
In fact, that made him even more conspicuous.
Still, his sudden entrance gave Hermione a chance to escape the humiliation of being laughed at by Draco...
“Hagrid, you’re back.”
“Who’s Norbert?”
As Hagrid set down the barrels filled with brandy and chicken blood, Harry and Ron quickly stepped in to greet him, trying to distract from the lingering awkwardness. They’d had enough of the tense atmosphere in his absence.
“Hagrid, co take a look!”
Hermione wrinkled her nose at the pungent sll but still urged Hagrid to co see the newborn dragon.
Once he spotted the little one, Hagrid’s eyes widened dramatically, and he rushed over to Draco and Hermione, not even noticing when he bumped into Harry on the way.
“Waaah, what did I miss... Thank rlin, he hatched safely... I’m... I’m your mum, Norbert...”
“...”
Watching the massive, blubbering man with tears and snot running down his face, Draco had a lot to say—but didn’t even know where to start.
“First of all, the little one’s hungry. Second... isn’t Norbert a male na?”
“Yes! Yes! What should I do now? I’ll follow your lead!”
Completely missing Draco’s implication, Hagrid quickly wiped his tears, hurried to the barrels, and looked to Draco with a pleading gaze.
Draco didn’t bother ssing with him. He didn’t want the little one to stay hungry, and he definitely wanted his robes out of her mouth.
“Listen up. Every half hour, feed her a mixture of brandy and chicken blood, one to one. Keep that up for about a month, then...”
Hermione didn’t interrupt as Draco explained the feeding process. Instead, she simply watched him in silence, her brown eyes gleaming.
At that mont, the little witch finally understood why people called Draco the Prince of Slytherin...
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