7
Draco awoke to the pale light of lanterns streaming through the windows of the infirmary, piercing his eyes. His body felt heavy, as if weighed down by lead, and the pain that surged through him was almost all-consuming. The sharp scent of herbs and remedies lingered in the air, a reminder of the injuries he had suffered in the past days. The hum of the healers’ spells had faded, yet the echo seemed to linger in the walls of the infirmary.
Staring at the ceiling, Draco’s thoughts swirled. The war against Voldemort, the battles at Hogwarts, and life afterward—all felt like a distant dream, yet so close that the wounds still burned fresh. But what troubled him most was the strange dream that had haunted him for the past few days. A great and mighty old dragon had spoken to him. A gift that only you possess—the words echoed in his mind, but he still couldn’t grasp their meaning. He felt a connection, a kind of power within him that he had never sensed before. But what did it mean?
He could no longer bear lying there. The infirmary felt suffocating, claustrophobic, even though he was alone. The other patients had long been discharged, but he remained because his recovery was slower than the healers had anticipated. But he could not endure it any longer. He needed fresh air, something to clear his mind.
Slowly, he swung his legs over the bed, ignoring the sharp pull in his side triggered by the movement. Carefully, he pushed himself out from under the covers, steadied himself against the bed frame, and finally stood up. His feet touched the cold stone floor, sending a shiver up his spine. Despite the pain and heaviness in his limbs, he crept quietly to the door, grabbed his jacket draped over a chair, and stepped out into the night.
The cool, crisp air hit him with full force as he closed the door behind him. It was one of those nights where the sky was covered by a dense carpet of stars, sparkling like tiny jewels. The moon hung high above, casting a silver light on the dragon reserve where he was. The shadows of the trees danced in the wind, and the rustling of leaves accompanied the soft humming of crickets.
Draco paused for a moment, inhaling the fresh air and closing his eyes. For a brief instant, he felt free, unburdened by everything that weighed him down. But that moment was short-lived as the memories of the past weeks crashed back over him. He opened his eyes and looked at a large tree nearby. Its branches spread out like protective arms, and he felt drawn to it. Slowly, he walked toward the tree, his steps heavy and painful, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to escape—from the memories, from the thoughts that tormented him.
When he finally reached the tree, he leaned against its rough trunk, feeling the gnarled bark at his back and letting his head fall back. The cool wind brushed through his hair, and he gazed up at the stars. It was strange how quiet the world was here, so far removed from the constant tumult he had experienced at Hogwarts. He never would have thought he’d end up here—in a dragon reserve, far from the world he had known for so long.
The stars seemed to speak to him as he looked at them, but it was a language he didn’t understand. They twinkled and glimmered, as if hiding secrets waiting to be uncovered. He sighed and closed his eyes again, trying to organize the thoughts in his head, but he couldn’t. Too much had happened, and the future seemed uncertain.
His tranquility was interrupted by a faint noise—the crack of a twig, followed by light footsteps. Draco’s eyes shot open, and his body tensed instinctively. He was ready to fight if necessary, but as he turned, he recognized the figure approaching him. It was Leaf, the young dragon keeper who had stood by him in recent weeks. His face was visible in the soft moonlight, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.
“Can’t sleep either?” Leaf asked softly as he came closer. His voice was calm, almost whispering, as if he didn’t want to disturb the night’s stillness. He smiled gently, and Draco relaxed again, nodding in response.
“It’s hard to lie here and do nothing,” Draco murmured, looking back up at the stars. “I needed fresh air.”
Leaf nodded in understanding and sat down next to Draco by the tree. For a while, they both remained silent, simply listening to the gentle wind rustling through the leaves and the occasional call of a bird in the distance. It was a strange but pleasant silence that Draco found comforting.
After a while, it was Leaf who broke the silence. “You know, I often come here to think,” he began softly. “This tree… it has something soothing about it. It’s hard to explain, but sometimes it helps just to sit here and listen.”
Draco shot him a brief glance but said nothing. He understood what Leaf meant. He too felt the calm that emanated from this place, even though his thoughts were still restless.
“My parents…” Leaf hesitated before continuing, his voice muted, but a hint of bitterness lingered in it. “They never understood why I loved dragons so much. To them, it was madness to dedicate my life to them. They wanted me to do something secure, something well-paying. But I couldn’t. Dragons are the only thing that truly makes me happy.”
Draco listened attentively as Leaf spoke. He felt the frustration and pain in his voice and could empathize all too well with those feelings. He had also fought against his parents’ expectations his entire life, trying to ignore the constant pressure to prove himself.
“I’m glad I didn’t listen to them,” Leaf continued, looking toward the dragon enclosures in the distance, barely visible in the weak moonlight. “Now I’m here, with the creatures I love, doing what I’ve always wanted to do. It feels right.”
Draco nodded slowly, though he wasn’t sure if he could say the same about himself. He had left his family’s path behind, but was he truly free? Was this his way? Or was he merely a refugee from the past, trying to find a place elsewhere because his old paths were blocked?
“What about Vulcan?” Draco finally asked, the question that had been nagging at him for days. The old dragon was one of the reasons he was still here. Something was wrong with him; Draco knew that. But what exactly?
Leaf’s face darkened at the mention of the name, and he sighed heavily. “We’ve figured it out. Vulcan was poisoned.”
Draco felt his chest tighten. Poisoned? “But who would do such a thing? And why?”
“That’s the big question,” Leaf replied, leaning heavily against the tree. “It’s not the first time something like this has happened. In recent months, dragons in reserves around the world have been poisoned—over and over again, but never in the same way. It seems like someone is deliberately targeting them.”
“But why? Dragons in reserves aren’t a threat.”
Leaf shook his head. “We don’t know. Maybe someone fears their power, or there’s a political motive behind it. We have no answers, only questions.”
Draco’s thoughts whirled as Leaf’s words echoed in him. The image of the old dragon from his dream returned—its deep, wise eyes entrusting him with a mission. You shall use your gift for the good of the dragons. But how could he do that when he didn’t even know what that gift was?
He took a deep breath before speaking. “I… had a dream. About an old dragon. He said I have a gift that allows me to transform into a dragon.”
Leaf’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he looked as if he wanted to say something. But he remained silent, letting the words sink in. Finally, he nodded slowly. “That’s extraordinary, Draco. If that’s true, it could be the key to saving the dragons. We need to investigate further. And we should inform Charlie.”
Draco hesitated. The thought of telling Charlie about his gift was complicated. Something had grown between them lately, something undefinable, and Draco wasn’t sure how to deal with it.
“Not yet,” he said finally. “I don’t want to talk to him about it yet. Let’s find out more first.”
Leaf nodded understandingly. “As you wish. But when you’re ready, let him know. He will help you.”
Together, they returned to Leaf’s house. The little Niffler, Loki, was already waiting for Draco and excitedly jumped up to him. With a soft laugh, Draco handed him a coin, which Loki immediately grabbed to inspect eagerly. The sight brought a smile to Draco that he hadn’t felt in a long time.
Draco lay down on the couch, his thoughts still lingering on the old dragon and his mysterious gift. The Niffler snuggled up to him, and as the little creature played with his shiny treasure, Draco closed his eyes and fell into an uneasy, dream-filled sleep.
Draco woke early the next morning, the faint light of dawn filtering through the windows of the small room where he had slept. The Niffler, Loki, had cuddled closely to him and was still sleeping peacefully. Draco tried to relax, but his thoughts continually revolved around Vulcan and the strange dream that had been haunting him. The old dragon’s words still echoed within him. A gift that would allow him to transform into a dragon. What did it all mean?
He sat up and looked at the small Niffler, who was still contentedly snoring beside him. Draco felt a strange mix of curiosity and fear. The thought of possessing such an ability was both enticing and frightening. What if he couldn’t control it? What if this gift demanded more from him than he was willing to give?
Slowly, he got up and crept out of the room, careful not to wake Leaf. Outside, the air was still cool, and a fine mist hung over the trees of the reserve. Draco walked purposefully toward the enclosures where the dragons were housed. The loss of Vulcan weighed heavily on him, and although he knew he could do nothing, he still felt guilty. There was something inside him urging him to do more, to act—for Vulcan and the other dragons.
When he reached the empty enclosure where Vulcan had lived, Draco stopped. The solitude of this place was almost tangible. The other dragons were silent, as if they too felt the loss of their elder. Draco clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms.
“I need to find out what this gift really is,” he whispered to himself.
Draco cast one last glance at Vulcan’s enclosure before deciding to seek out Charlie. There was no other choice. If anyone could help him with this mystery, it was Charlie. And perhaps, just perhaps, Charlie wouldn’t think he was crazy.
He found Charlie near one of the smaller dragons, which was peacefully basking in the morning sun. Charlie noticed Draco and waved, a gentle smile on his lips. “Good morning, Draco. How are you today?”
Draco hesitated, then slowly approached Charlie. “Charlie… I need to talk to you. It’s important.”
Charlie noted the seriousness in Draco’s voice, and his expression immediately turned concerned. “Of course, come on, let’s sit somewhere we can talk privately.”
They sat on a bench near the enclosure, and for a moment, silence hung between them. Draco felt his heart racing. He didn’t know how to begin.
“I… had a dream,” he finally began. “About an old dragon. He said I had a gift. A gift that would allow me to transform into a dragon.”
Charlie stared at him, his eyes wide but not disbelieving. “A dream? A dragon spoke to you?”
Draco nodded. “Yes. It felt so real, as if it were more than just a dream. And ever since then… I can’t shake this thought. What if it’s true? What if I really have this gift?”
Charlie leaned back and looked at Draco thoughtfully. “Dragons are very powerful and ancient beings. There are many stories and legends about them, and not all are just fairy tales. If a dragon spoke to you, there may be a reason for it.”
Draco felt a mix of relief and unease. He had hoped Charlie could help him, but now that he was talking about it, the reality of this possibility felt even more serious.
“I don’t know what to do,” Draco confessed finally. “If this gift is real… how should I use it? What does it mean for me?”
Charlie smiled gently. “You have time, Draco. No one expects you to understand everything right away. But if this gift exists, the right moment will come for you to use it. And until then, you should learn to trust yourself and your instincts.”
Draco took a deep breath, Charlie’s words soothing him a little. “Thank you, Charlie. I think I just needed to share this with someone.”
Charlie placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’re not alone here, Draco. No matter what happens, we’re all behind you.”
Draco nodded, and for the first time in a long time, he felt a little lighter. But he knew this was just the beginning. The future was uncertain, and somewhere out there still lurked the threat that had cost Vulcan his life.