13
Draco didn't know how long he had lain in the damp, earthy darkness of the forest. His body was a single wound, battered and tired, but somewhere inside him there was still a spark of life burning. Every breath ached, and the memories of the crystal's explosion mingled with fragments of Aelira's sneering laugh. But he had survived. And that meant there was still hope.
"Draco!" The voice that tore him out of his thoughts was like a faint light in the darkness—warm and familiar. "Draco, where are you?"
Draco opened his eyes with difficulty and recognized a blurred figure moving through the trees. It was Charlie. His heart beat faster, an unexpected spark of relief flashed through him. "Here," he managed with difficulty, his voice little more than a whisper.
Charlie's face appeared above him, his brow furrowed with concern. "Oh, Draco..." Without hesitation, he knelt next to him and began to carefully check his condition. "You look like you've gone through hell."
"Feels like it," Draco murmured weakly, but a small smile crept onto his lips. It was a bittersweet moment. He had managed to free himself from Aeira's clutches, but the price had been high.
"I'll get you out of here," Charlie promised in a voice that trembled with determination. He drew his wand and muttered a healing spell that closed the worst of his wounds. "I was worried to death when I found the destroyed crystal. But you... You did it."
Draco nodded weakly, his eyes fixed on Charlie's flushed face. "The crystal... is destroyed. Aelira..." He closed his eyes, unable to finish the sentence.
"That's not important now," Charlie interrupted him softly as he put his arm around Draco to help him up. "The important thing is that you live. And I'll bring you back. Home."
The journey back to the dragon reserve was a surreal fog of healing spells, silence and short conversations. Draco was too weak to speak, and Charlie was too focused on keeping him alive. But when they finally reached the boundary of the reserve, a warm, familiar breeze blew over Draco. The scent of resin, damp grass and... Kite. It was like a lullaby that pulled him into a gentle sleep.
Leaf was already waiting when Charlie stepped through the woods with Draco in his arms. The tall, slender man with the light blond hair and the piercing green eyes hurried up, his hands trembling slightly with excitement. "Is he...?" Leaf began, but Charlie nodded reassuringly.
"He's alive. But he's badly injured," he explained as he laid Draco on an improvised couch that Leaf had prepared. "I need your help to stabilize him."
Leaf knelt next to Draco and gently put a hand on his forehead. "You're just as stubborn as ever, Draco Malfoy," he murmured, but his voice was full of affection. With a short nod, Leaf began to cast ancient healing spells that the reserve made available to the keepers. Magical plants that grew nearby were crushed and applied to Draco's wounds, their essences enhanced by the spells.
Meanwhile, a small, fluffy figure scurried around nearby. Loki, the Niffler, made his usual rounds, sniffed here and there and proudly wore a tiny bell around his neck, which tinkled softly. When he saw Draco, the little thief seemed to hesitate for a moment before he climbed and carefully lay down on Draco's chest as if to protect him.
Charlie, who was watching the scene, could not suppress a faint smile. "Loki really took him to his heart," he said quietly as he sat down next to Leaf. "I wouldn't have thought that a Niffler could be so loyal."
"Maybe Loki senses that Draco is special," Leaf replied as he completed his healing spells. "Or he just wants to get to the silver belt buckle that Draco is wearing."
The days passed, and Draco slowly recovered. His skin had regained its pale color, and although the pain in his limbs did not disappear completely, he felt stronger every day. Charlie was almost always at his side during this time, bringing him hot drinks, reading to him from old dragon books or settling the quarrels between Loki and the other magical animals of the reserve.
"I never thought I'd ever find peace," Draco said one evening as they sat together at the edge of a dragon enclosure. In front of them lay a majestic Hungarian Horntail, its scales sparkling in the light of the setting sun.
Charlie looked at him, his brown eyes soft. "Neither do I. But here, with you, it feels right."
Draco returned his gaze, and for a moment there was complete silence. Then he turned back to the dragon and murmured, "Thank you, Charlie. For everything."
Life on the reservation began to take on a routine for Draco. Leaf, who worked with his own magical animals, had introduced Draco to the care of dragons. Although Draco was hesitant at first, he quickly developed a deep connection with the majestic creatures. He was particularly taken with a young, injured Norwegian spiked hump. The dragon Leaf called "Shadow" had a broken wing and trusted only Draco, who talked to him for hours while he applied the healing ointments.
Charlie watched this development with a quiet pride. "You have a natural gift," he said one afternoon as he helped Draco feed shadows. "I knew you would make it."
Draco shrugged, but a hint of color crept onto his cheeks. "Perhaps," he said. "But I think it's up to you. You showed me that there is more than pain and darkness."
Loki, the Niffler, had meanwhile become a permanent fixture in the reserve. He had his own hiding places for glittering objects, which Charlie and Draco had to empty regularly so as not to plunge the reservation into a chaos of missing keychains and trinkets. But Loki had also developed a surprisingly protective side. He didn't let anyone near Draco who wasn't personally inspected by him – a habit that made both Leaf and the other keepers laugh again and again.
"I think he sees himself as your bodyguard," Leaf said one evening, while Loki slept on Draco's shoulder, holding a small golden coin tightly in his paws.
"Maybe," Draco replied with a weak smile. "Or he wants to make sure that no one steals his treasures."
The weeks turned into months, and the reserve became more than just a refuge for Draco – it became a home. The wounds Aelira had left behind were slowly healing, and Draco found something in the tranquility of the reservation that he would never have thought possible: peace.
He and Charlie spent many hours together, either working with the dragons or just in the shade of a tree, talking about their past, their fears, and their dreams. Leaf was always a silent companion who watched their relationship with a knowing smile.
"You're good to each other," Leaf said one evening as they sat together around the campfire. "I've never seen Charlie so happy."
Charlie looked at Draco, who smiled softly. "He's right," Charlie said. "I'm happy. Finally."
Draco returned the look and nodded. "Me too."
And in that moment, Draco knew that he had not only found a place to call home, but also a family – with Charlie, Leaf, the dragons and even Loki, the Niffler, who proudly scurried away with a new shiny belt buckle.