Hidden Dilemmas, Hatching Secrets
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, Somewhere in Scotland, The Owlery - 10 April, 1992
Draco stared out across the damp and gloomy grounds from a glassless window of the owlery, a light rain sprinkling down and glittering the grounds. He could see the quidditch pitch from here, although no one was out there due to how the rain was only meant to get worse as the day went on.
The Slytherin would have preferred to stay nice and cozied up in the castle. He longed for the warmth of sitting by the fireplace in the dorm, a steaming cup of tea held between his hands. However he had something quite important to do, the proof of which was safe from the rain in his bag.
He shook his head and turned his gaze away from the dreary sight before beginning to finish walking up the spiral steps and entered the owlery proper.
It took up at least half of the tower with how tall it was, with dozens upon dozens, probably even hundreds, of ledges that were home to the many school and personal owls.
Some of the ledges had name plates on them while others didn't, indicating which were owned by the school and which weren't. Some of them were cleaner and were obviously better taken care of. And of those that were, some were of an even higher caliber and were decorated for the owl.
Up high, where even the ledges stopped, were the wooden rafters where many of the owls laid about, despite their lodgings.
After looking around for a moment Draco whistled as he put out his forearm. It only took a moment before Achilles was soaring down, gracefully landing on his outstretched arm.
“Good job, Achilles.” Draco praised as he reached into his bag and procured a drawstring bag full of his favorite treats. He carefully tried to open said bag, however it didn't help that he only had one hand and the eagle owl was nipping and trying to steal it.
“Hey! Be careful or else no treats at all!” Draco hissed to the bird, however they both knew that it was a baseless threat.
The bird somehow managed to give a flat look, silently calling Draco out. “Oh shut it you pigeon!”
A small sound came from the staircase, making Draco’s head snap around to find Potter standing there. He wore his typical two sizes too big clothes with his black school robe over them and a Gryffindor scarf tied tight around his neck.
“Potter? What are you doing here? How long have you been there?! Were you watching me?!” Draco quickly asked, his voice raising unintentionally as his embarrassment at being caught talking to his owl.
The loudness of his voice as well as a newcomer appearing so suddenly seemed to spook said owl into flying into the air for a moment, his wings wide at the threat.
“Er, not long.” The Gryffindor awkwardly offered, looking down and scruffing a foot against the ground slightly. “And I’m here to spend some time with Hedwig.” As he said this a gorgeous snowy white owl flew down, landing effortlessly onto Potter’s shoulder, already looking quite pleased.
“She can get a bit lonely, especially in this kind of weather, so I like to visit and keep her company.” He rubbed a careful finger against the owl’s beak, earning an affectionate nip from her before she leaned into the tender attention.
“She seems quite fond of you.”
“I’m pretty fond of her, she’s pretty patient with me as I’m learning more about how to properly care for her.”
Achilles seemed to have finally calmed down enough, after seeing that Potter wasn’t a threat – ‘Honesty, Potter? A threat? Very funny’ – and landed back on Draco's arm that was still out.
“Are you visiting your owl too?” Potter asked curiously, looking as though he wanted to get closer but wisely keeping his distance.
“No, I’m sending a letter to my Mother informing her that I will be staying here during the Easter Holidays. Coming to see Achilles is just a nice treat alongside it.” Draco offered one of the treats he had managed to get out to the eagle owl absentmindedly, who eagerly snatched it up.
“What are those?”
“Hm?” Draco hummed for a moment before he noticed Potter nodding to the pouch of owl treats. “Treats of course, and only the finest! They are straight from a high quality owl shop in Horizont Alley.” It was then he noticed how intensely the snowy owl was looking at the pouch.
He deliberated for a moment before carefully pulling on the treats out and offering it to Potter. “Give your owl a treat, she looks positively starving.” Ok starving was probably dramatic, since she looked perfectly healthy, but with that look Draco wouldn’t be so sure.
The black haired boy gratefully accepted the procured treat, offering it to Hedwig who, after a curious little sniff, quickly gobbled down the treat happily. “Wow! I’ve never seen her so happy to eat a treat, usually she only likes mice!”
“Well of course, Potter, a beautiful owl like her should have quality treats! Not some cheap little treats the owlery offers or that you get at Eeylops!” The platinum haired boy huffed, rolling his eyes as he tied the drawstring bag up against and put it into his bag. As he did so he carefully walked over to an open window, where Achilles hopped down onto the damp ledge.
As he took his hand out of his bag it emerged with the letter he had written last night.
With as much care as he could he rolled up and secured the letter to Achilles’ leg. “Take this straight to Mother, but don’t fly back until the weather has calmed a little.” He mumbled to the owl, gently petting his head before stepping back and watching him take flight.
“You two seem really close.” Potter voiced,which seemed to get a bit closer.
“Well I would hope so, I have had him for years.”
“Years?”
“Well of course, I was gifted him for one of my birthdays, I believe it was my 9th.” Draco simply answered, turning to Potter, noticing he had gotten a bit closer.
“I think I got a paperclip for my 9th.” Potter answered with, making the Slytherin’s face contort into a confused look. ‘Was it just a Muggle thing?’ However before he could voice his confusion he noticed the dark circle underneath those usually vibrant green eyes.
The words fell from his lips before he could even think to stop them, “are you ok?”
Potter looked as surprised as Draco felt, raising his eyebrows. “What do you mean? Just cause I got a paperclip and not an owl? Don’t worry, I got Hedwig at Diagon for my 11th-”
“That’s not why I’m asking, idiot, you look like a half-breed of a grindylow and a house elf with how tired you look.”
The bespectacled eyes looked confused for a moment before quickly looking to the floor, looking ashamed and more than a bit caught, but he didn’t answer. However his silence was telling enough.
A wave of hesitancy rushed through him, suddenly realizing that he didn't know what to do, that he didn't think it would get this far. ‘Maybe I should say something? Or comfort him? How do you comfort someone?’
He bit his lip before finally digging into his bag and holding out a small package to Potter.
At the sound of crinkling Potter looked up and spotted the offered treat before glancing to Draco. “What-?”
“Take it,” Draco huffed, offering the package more insistently.
After another moment Potter finally took it, opening it immediately and looking at it. “What is it?” He asks curiously, as Hedwig seemingly leaning over to look into it as well.
“It's a sugar quill, my last one.” Draco suddenly felt rather shy. He often shared the basket of treats his mother sent, but he almost never shared his beloved sugar quills.
“Sugar quill?” Potter muttered to himself before licking the hard candy, seemingly brightening up at even just the small taste of sugar.
“So it's just some sugar in the shape of a quill?” The wild haired boy inquired as he licked and sucked more on the sweet.
“Well- yes, there are other flavors you can get it in but I prefer the original.” Draco offered before moving over to sit at one of the large window sills, which was thankfully somehow clean.
“What flavors?” Potter asked as he moved over the sill and sat next to him, the snowy owl still on his shoulder. “Is it like Berty Bott’s?”
A disgusted sound left his lips before he could stop it, his face scrunching up. “Definitely not,” he answered, “there is strawberry, marmalade, lemon, blackcurrant, the usual really.” He waved a hand as he spoke.
“Are you left handed?” Potter randomly asked, making Draco blink at the sudden change in subject.
“Um- yes? I am.” Draco responded, more than a bit confused.
“Sorry, I just had never noticed before.”
“Look at hands often, then?”
An exasperated sigh was released, “you know what I mean!”
“I can quite securely say that I do not, mind elaborating, Potter?”
Draco was given a flat look that had him erupt with laughter, not being able to hold it in any longer.
“Yes, yes, I am left-handed! Although I really don't see what the big deal is, it simply makes things far more annoying.” The Slytherin said as he lifted his left hand and wiggled his fingers.
“Annoying?”
“Quite! I have to get specially made quills for them! Otherwise my writing is all lopsided and I smudge the ink! And don’t even get me started on clothes!”
“Clothes? How can that be annoying?”
“Oh you right handed people just don’t understand because everything is made for them! Like think of your trousers and buttoning them. The button is on the right!” Draco yelled, accidentally spooking many of the owls and getting a harsh look from the beautiful snowy owl.
“Wow, uh, you’re pretty passionate about this, huh?” Potter questioned, looking ever so slightly amused but also confused.
“Passionate? Oh you haven’t seen passion yet, Potter!” Draco jeered, a sly smirk gracing his lips as he turned his pointy nose up at him.
Potter simply rolled his eyes, obviously not taking Draco’s word very seriously. “How did you do on the defense homework?”
“I passed, barely got an E, I don’t even know how you do so well in that class!” Draco complained, leaning more against the wall of the windowsill.
“I do great on the homework for some reason, drives Hermione mad, but I’m awful in class. All that garlic causes really splitting headaches and it’s so hard to focus.” He returned with, finally finishing up the sugar quill, crunching on the last of it.
“It’s his obviously fake stutter for me, I can’t understand anything he is saying.” Draco rolled his eyes.
“You think it’s fake?” Potter asked.
“I know it’s fake, I’ve heard what a real stutter sounds like. Theodore had a bad one when we were younger.” Draco huffed.
“Theodore?”
“Nott, he’s in Slytherin.” Draco explained, realizing Potter really didn’t know any of the other Slytherins in their year, other than Bulstrode, which really was a shame. “Speaking of, they will probably be looking for me by now, actually.”
Potter blinked, glancing out the window, noticing just how much time had passed despite their conversation being so short.
“Oh.” He seemed a bit down, although he didn’t complain as Draco gathered up his things and stood. “I.. Draco?” Potter called, his voice small.
Silver eyes flitted over to the smaller boy, whose hair had fallen over those bright eyes.
“Yes?”
“Thank you, for sitting with me, for talking, for the quill.” Potter offered, looking ever so slightly better than he had as he looked up at the taller boy.
Draco bit his lip, shuffling his shoes a little. “It’s no problem, really. Just.. remember that you have people to talk to, to come to, if you ever want to talk.” A small flush crossed his cheeks as embarrassment filled him at saying something so mushy, to Harry Potter of all people.
“Thanks.” A smile graced Potter’s lips, “I… haven't been sleeping very well lately. It was really bad after Christmas but then it got better but it feels like it's just getting worse and worse.” The smile slipped and the slightly younger boy seemed to curl into himself.
“Is it.. anything in particular? Or just sleep in general? Because if it is the latter then you can talk to Madam Pomfrey and she can give you something for that.” Draco pointed out as softly as he could.
But Potter simply shook his head, turning his gaze to look out upon the grounds and staring, his usually bright green eyes looking oh so dull for a moment.
“It's dreams,” Potter mumbled, so quiet that Draco almost didn't hear him. “It started out as bright bursts of green and laughter but lately it's been.. it's worse.” He didn't seem to want to say more than that little bit.
“I… can't say that madam Pomfrey has things to help with that, well maybe one thing but she wouldn't allow you to take it.” Draco said, feeling utterly useless for even mentioning it and quickly moving on. “You said your dreams got better, why? What happened?”
“Quidditch,” Potter said, glancing back at to the Slytherin.
“Just quidditch?”
“Well no, it was the flying of Quidditch, it felt so freeing and I felt like I could do anything.” The brightness seemed to be seeping into those eyes little by little.
“So do that.” Draco shrugged.
“But there aren't any Gryffindor games until May?” Potter tilted his head, making Draco want to face palm at the idiocy. “And practice just isn't the same, then it's work.”
“Do you think brooms and flying are just for Quidditch?” The blond raised an eyebrow as the realization dawned on the black haired boy.
“But wait- first years aren't allowed to fly outside of flying class?”
“First years aren't meant to have a broom at all. The rule of not flying outside of flying class is because they don't want students breaking the school brooms.”
Potter blinked and brightened for a moment, his eyes turning back to the quidditch pitch.
“Will you be going now?” Draco inquired, but Potter shook his head.
“As tempting as that is, I think I’m going to stay here for a bit longer with Hedwig.” As he said this he brought a hand up to scratch lightly at Hedwig’s head.
“Well I will be heading back to the castle, I don't want to walk back in the pouring rain and I've done what I came to do.” Draco stood and dusted himself off, re-shouldering his bag as it began to slip off.
“Good luck.” Potter grinned as he continued to give affection to his own.
“I will see you in the library tomorrow.” Draco bid his goodbye, nodding to him before turning to walk down the spiral stairs and beginning his walk back to the castle.
~2~
The Easter Holidays started just two days later on the 12th and, just as Draco thought, the professors assigned piles upon piles of work. So much so that Draco and many other students questioned how this was even meant to be a break when they had so much work.
Even Blaise, one of the biggest book worms he knows, wasn’t happy with all the work assigned. In fact only one seemed happy with it, and that was Granger, of course. ‘Shocker.’ Although you could barely call it that when she also verbalized wishing that they were given more.
“How else are you meant to spend your holiday?” Granger asked, causing all three of the boys to look at her in different levels of horror.
It was that that caused Potter and Weasley to drag her out of the library, Draco trailing not far behind, and out to a birch tree that was somewhere out on the grounds. They all spent the rest of the day outside, the sky surprisingly clear and the ground dry despite how much rain had been happening.
Granger still had her nose in a book, although thankfully it didn’t seem like a textbook, but Draco didn’t recognize it. When he asked she simply looked at him weirdly and asked, “you’ve never heard of Pride or Prejudice?”
“Is it Muggle?” Draco asked, looking at it warily.
“I don’t know, at this point I question any and every historical figure on if they were secretly a wizard or not. It was written by Jane Austin. It’s quite good.” Granger commented looking at the cover for a moment. “I brought it back with me after coming home from the winter holidays. Do you want to read it after I’m done?”
“No, thank you.” Draco quickly shot down, not interested in anything a simple-minded muggle wrote.
All while this was happening Weasley was explaining the rules to Exploding Snap to Potter as he shuffled the cards by hand. ‘Hm, so poor he doesn’t even have self-shuffling one’s!’ Draco laughed internally before tuning more into their conversation.
“So they just explode on you? At any point in the game?” Potter asked warily as he glanced down at the worn, blue cards.
“Yep! With this really nasty smelling green stuff!” Weasley clarified excitedly.
“You want to smell like stinksap?” Draco butted in, looking at him incredulously as Weasley laid the cards out.
“At least it will be happening out here rather than the library.” Weasley said with narrow eyes, although they quickly returned to normal when he heard Granger’s horrified noise at even the idea of that happening.
The Slytherin rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything more, simply scooting farther away so there was no chance he’d get any of that vile stuff on him or his robes.
Vengeance really was sweet when not even 10 minutes later Weasley was being sprayed with the foul, rancid manure-like smell. Draco would have laughed if he hadn’t gagged from the stench, covering his nose and mouth with part of his robe quickly. Potter on the other hand seemed to push past the stench, loudly laughing at Weasley’s misfortune.
“Oh that is disgusting!” Granger cried, her eyes seeming to well and trying to fan the smell away but the smell was far too strong for that to even slightly work.
They quickly went back inside and parted ways after that, no one being able to handle that smell for long.
After that day they started to spend more time outside of the library, under that birch tree when the sky was clear of clouds. Other times, when gray clouds covered the blue sky, they would find an empty alcove and spend time there.. Sometimes they would play games, other times they would study. However on the 17th Granger insisted that they stay in the library for most of the day, despite the sky being a beautiful forget-me-not blue.
She quizzed them on the twelve uses of dragon’s blood and different wand movements, while Draco returned the favor by asking what are transitional ingredients in potions and how to effectively use them.
Finally there came a tipping point, making Weasley throw his quill down and bemoan. “I’ll never remember all of this! When will I ever need to know about the Goblin Wars in real life?!” He stretched his arms across the table, looking a sad sight.
Draco and Potter were both looking over the section over bouncing bulbs in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, not even glancing at the ginger boy.
In fact they didn’t look up until they heard Weasley call, “Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?”
The giant, scruffy man shuffled into view, very obviously hiding something behind his back. He was wearing his usual dark brown moleskin, a caught look gracing his face.
“Jus’ lookin’,” he said, his voice sounding shifty and rushed.”An’ what’re you lot up ter?” He seemed quite eager to take the topic off himself, looking at the books on their table suspiciously. “Yer not still lookin’ fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?”
Before Draco could deny the statement Weasley jumped in, pushing out his chest and drawing himself up slightly. “Oh we found out who he is ages ago,” said Weasley impressively. “And we know what that dog’s guarding, it’s the Philosopher’s St —”
“Shhh!” Hagrid shushed loudly, immediately looking around to make sure no one heard them. “Don’ go shoutin’ about it, what’s the matter with yeh?”
“There are a few things we wanted to ask you, actually!” Potter jumped, looking quite excited and obviously not thinking, “about what’s guarding the stone apart from Fluffy —”
“SHHHH!” Hagrid shushed even louder, more incessantly. “Listen — come an’ see me later, I’m not promisin’ I’ll tell yeh anythin’, mind, but don’ go rabbitin’ about it in here, students aren’ s’upposed ter know. They’ll think I’ve told yeh.”
“We’ll see you later, then.” Potter bid before the gameskeeper shuffled off quickly, still hiding something.
“What was he hiding behind his back?” Granger asked as soon as he was out of ear shot. “Do you think it has to do with the Stone?”
“I’m going to see what section he was in!” Weasley immediately got up, obviously happy to have an excuse to stop working. He came back a minute later with a small pile of books in his arms and slammed them down on the table dramatically.
“Dragons!” he whispered and made the first year’s interests immediately peak. “Hagrid was looking up stuff about dragons! Look at these: Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland; From Egg to Inferno, A Dragon Keeper’s Guide.”
“Hagrid’s always wanted a dragon,” said Potter, “he told me so the first time I ever met him.”
“But it’s against our laws,” the tall Gryffindor pointed out.
“He’s right, surprisingly, it’s been outlawed since forever.” Weasley gave Draco an affronted look.
“It’s been outlawed since the Warlock’s Convention of 1706!”
“You remember that but you can’t even remember what spell you use for turning a needle into a matchbox?” Granger lifted a thick eyebrow, looking unamused.
“My brother Charlie would always talk about them when he came home for the Summer before going to Romania to work on a Dragon Reserve.” Weasley explained.
‘Damn, that’s so cool,’ Draco’s mind thought spitefully.
Weasley, however, continued, not knowing Draco’s traitorous thoughts. “Anyway, you can’t tame dragons, it’s really dangerous.”
“But aren’t there wild dragons in Britain?” Potter inquired.
“Of course there is,” Weasley shrugged, “Common Welsh Green and Hebridean Blacks. The Ministry has a super hard time covering them up. They have to send out the Obliviation squads whenever a muggle spots one and make them forget.”
“So what on earth is Hagrid hiding and why does he need books on Dragons?” Granger pondered aloud.
A few hours later found the four first years standing on the doorstep of the gamekeeper's hut with Potter at the front and knocking on the large wooden door.
“Who is it?” A gruff voice called from behind the door.
“It’s us,” Potter responded, glancing uncertainly back at the rest of the group.
The door opened ever so slightly as the gamekeep quickly ushered them inside. As they walked into the small, wooden hut Draco was hit with an immediate heat, making him break out into a sweat almost instantly.
“Weren’t followed, ‘ere ya?”
“Why would we be followed?”
Hagrid quickly responded with a “no reason.”
‘Hmm, that’s not suspicious at all.’ Draco rolled his eyes as he quickly loosened his tie ever so slightly and shrugged off his robe, folding it up and stuffing it into his bag carefully.
They were all crowded over to the benches and chairs as Hagrid poured out a few cups (or really bowls) of tea and put a plate of ferret sandwiches into the center of the large round table.
“So — yeh wanted to ask me somethin’?”
“Yes,” Potter quickly said, not even trying to be even slightly stealthy. “We were wondering if you could tell us what’s guarding the Philosopher’s stone apart from Fluffy.”
The giant man frowned down at them, looking a little disappointed.
“O’ course I can’t,” he said. “Number one, I don’ know meself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn’ tell yeh if I could. That Stone’s here fer a good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts — I s’ppose yeh’ve worked that out an’ all? Beats me how yeh even know abou’ Fluffy.”
‘Probably from the fact that he is a giant cerberus that is only protected by a lock that wasn’t even enchanted,’ Draco held back a huff of annoyance. ‘I mean really, it’s like they want students to be eaten.’
“Oh, come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you do know, you know everything that goes on around here.” said Granger in a warm, flattering voice that made Hagrid’s beard twitch ever so slightly.
“We only wondered who had done the guarding, really.” Granger went on as she looked up at the gamekeeper with perfectly wide and innocent eyes. “We wondered who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you.”
Draco looked at the muggleborn, actually somewhat impressed by the almost Slytherin mood, and saw Potter and Weasley beam brightly at her. His eyes quickly looked back to Hagrid, who’s chest had swelled.
“Well, I don’ s’pose it could hurt ter tell yeh that.. Let’s see… he borrowed Fluffy from me… then some o’ the teachers did enchantments… Professor Sprout — Professor Flitwick — Professor McGonagall —” he ticked them off on his fingers as he said each of the names, “Professor Quirrel —”
‘Excuse me?’
“an’ Dumbledore himself did something, o’ course. Hang on, I’ve forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape.”
“Snape?”
“Quirrell? Are you sure?”
The rest of the occupants of the hut all looked to Draco, the gamekeeper looking confused while the Gryffindors were looking a bit frustrated, Weasley especially.
“Yeah, o’ course he is involved,” Hagrid waved him off before looking back to the Gryffindors. “Yer not still on abou’ that, are yeh? Look, Snape is helping protect the Stone, he’s not about ter steal it!”
Draco crossed his arms, incredibly frustrated that they are once again talking about Snape when he knew — well not know but he had a very strong feeling, okay? — that it was Quirrell.
‘Or are you just hoping it isn’t Uncle Sev?’ Draco heard a voice whisper in the back of his mind, making him shake his head quickly. As he came back into the conversation he noticed they had, thankfully, moved on.
“Hagrid, can we have the window open? I’m boiling.” Potter begged, pulling at the collar of his shirt.
“Can’t, Harry, sorry,” Hagrid apologized, glancing over at the roaring fire. Potter quickly followed his eyes, as did the rest of the 11 year olds. However, even as Draco tried to crane his neck, where he could barely see a sleek, black…. egg?
“Uh– Hagrid? What’s that?”
“Er –” the large man twiddled with his scruffy beard, seemingly incredibly nervous.
A sharp gasp made all the attention go to Weasley, especially when he stood up and went over to the fireplace. “Hagrid is this –?” he trailed off as he kneeled down next to the burning fire. “But — where did you even get one? It must have cost you a fortune!”
“Won it,” he mumbled. “Las’ night. I was down in the village havin’ a few drinks an’ got into a game o’ cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter be rid of it, fer sum reason.”
Draco’s brain hadn’t quite caught up with what in the Merlin’s beard was going on, making him look quite stupid.
“But what are you going to do with it once it’s hatched?” Granger quired, tilting her head and making her mane of very dark brown hair move in one solid unite.
“Well… I’ve bin doin’ some readin’,” said Hagrid, pulling out a large book out from under a pillow. “Got this outta the library — Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit — it’s a bit outta date, o’ course, but it’s all in here. Keep the egg in the fire, ‘cause their mothers breathe on ‘em, see, an’ when it hatches, feed it on a bucket o’ brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. An’ see here—” he turned to a page and show it to the students, “how ter recognize diff’rent eggs — what I got there’s a Norwegian Ridge-back. They’re rare, them.”
As the gamekeeper went on and on, looking extremely proud all the while, Draco’s brain finally started to catch up, his eyes going wide and his jaw dropping.
“You have a dragon?!”
Once again all eyes were on him, confusion evident on their faces.
“Oh I’m sorry!” Draco huffed sarcastically, rolling his eyes so hard that they probably almost fell out of his head. “Was I supposed to not be surprised that there is a dragon’s egg?!”
“Of course not, just your reaction is so delayed.” Potter shrugged helplessly, causing Draco to narrow his eyes at him but had nothing to say to that.
After a beat of silence Granger finally spoke, “Hagrid, you live in a wooden hut.”
But Hagrid didn’t listen, having moved over the roaring fire and stoking the flames.
~3~
And so that's another thing Draco had to worry about, alongside the whole Philosopher’s Stone fiasco and the fact he hadn’t had any dreams or visions.
Normally he'd be so happy to be free of them, but at this point it was starting to get more than a bit worrying.
Thankfully he had a few things to distract himself, even if it was just a little.
April 20th marked the day of the second to last quidditch match of the season, Slytherin vs Hufflepuff. The day was more than a bit gloomy, but thankfully it wasn’t storming, just a small drizzle.
Some of the older Slytherin students took pity and used a charm to block the sprinkling rain to get them wet.
However they probably only really did it to stop Pansy from whining about her makeup being ruined, although he was grateful his hair wouldn’t be a wet mess.
The match was long, 3 whole hours, the longest of the year so far and causing a stark contrast to the previous one. It started like any other, with Jordan loudly announcing the teams and each position they played.
The match was ruthless, Slytherin getting almost 5 penalties for rougher plays against the Hufflepuffs while the badgers got a whopping 7 against the Slytherin’s.
‘And they say that Slytherin’s are cheats.’ Draco huffed after Hufflepuff got their 6th penalty.
When the match finally ended it was 240-80. Slytherin just barely caught the snitch, and, while Draco was loath to admit it, the only reason they were able to was because Diggory had to swerve out of the way from a bludger.
That night there was a roaring party in the Slytherin common room, only made even more wild because of the fact that there were no classes.
Even Draco partook in it, although not nearly as much as the older students, he simply grabbed some snacks and sipped some kind of fruity juice drink and danced with Pansy and Blaise, like he always did at a party.
The party continued well into the night, until Snape came and ordered them all to bed, giving an especially sharp look.
A sharp look that was given to Draco again that Wednesday when he came to his weekly check-in that was in Snape’s office, just as he had for every Wednesday of the school year so far.
Draco took his seat across from Snape, looking at him from the other side of his desk and preparing himself for a lecture.
“How is your studying going?”
He was immediately thrown for a loop, blinking at him blankly.
Snape simply raised an eyebrow at his dumbfounded expression, looking quite unimpressed.
Draco probably shouldn’t be surprised, after all Snape always asked something similar at the beginning of every meeting.
“It’s… been good,” Draco slowly started. “Although it feels like the professors aren’t really giving us a break.”
“That is because they aren’t, you and every other student in this school are being prepared for your final exams.” Snape explained simply.
“But then why do so many call it a holiday?” Draco bemoaned as he slowly relaxed more and more in the presence of his Godfather.
“Because it is a holiday from classes, not a break from learning and work.” The potions professor spoke, as he did so a House elf popped in and set a tray of tea onto the desk before popping away without a word.
Draco quickly took a tea cup from the tray and began making his own sweet concoction, which made Snape make a disgusted noise.
“I do not know where you got your taste in tea from.” Snape looked down his hooked nose as he poured himself a cup of tea and added only one cube of sugar.
“You say that like I’m the insane one, Mr. I-only-add-one-cube.” The young slytherin rolled his eyes before sipping his amazing tea and relaxing into his chair.
After that they talked more about classes, how each was going and if he was having trouble with any of them.
“I don’t know why Quirrell is even allowed as a teacher here, he is as intelligent as a dugbog! And I can’t even understand a thing he says.” Draco huffed as he curled his hands around the warm cup. “Why did that senile old fool even hire him?”
Snape made a noise of agreement, although he didn’t outright voice his own opinion at that. “What are you having trouble with?” Snape asked instead, offering his help on the subject like he always did when the topic came up.
Draco ducked his head down, feeling his ear burn slightly, “I have it under control.”
Snape was obvious in his displeasure, the pursing of his lips made it clear.
“You get help from Potter, don’t you?”
Draco’s head snapped up, eyes wide and caught. He had always been so careful to try and not bring up Potter, always careful to not show his… friendly nature with Potter and Granger when he was in class or anywhere near Snape.
“I saw you with those Gryffindor’s the other day, by that birch tree.” Snape explained, that sharp look back and even sharper, as though it was a knife that was being pressed against Draco’s throat.
“I– um–” Draco couldn’t find the words, he couldn’t believe how reckless– how stupid–!
“You need to stay away from them, especially Potter.” The professor spit out the name like venom, as though it was a curse worse than death. “He is nothing but trouble, he will bring nothing but pain and suffering to you.”
“You don’t know that.” Draco lips and voice worked before his brain could process, before he could clamp the words down.
“Yes, I do,” Snape gritted out, pushing back his chair and standing. He moved to the window that was behind his desk. It looked out to the lake, just like the common room, but since it wasn't far down in the dungeons there was far more light that shined through the water.
“You will heed my warning, Draco,” Snape had his arms locked behind his back, which was turned to Draco. “Stay away from Potter, far away.”
“Father told me to befriend Potter.” Draco said quickly, although they both knew that Lucius would never want Draco to befriend a Gryffindor. He had told Draco that when the thought of Potter being the next Dark Lord was still possible.
But Draco knew Potter now, and the Potter he knew would never be the next Dark Lord.
“Is that really why you want to be friends with Potter?” Snape asked, turning slightly and looking down at Draco.
“I…” Draco’s voice trailed off.
“Exactly.” Snape didn’t say anything else than that, simply turning back to look out to the lake.
After a moment of silence Draco realized that was a dismissal. He slowly set down his tea, which had gone cold, and got up before leaving. He didn’t say goodbye, he didn’t need to.
~4~
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, Somewhere in Scotland, The Great Hall - 27 April, 1992
On the final day of break, after breakfast, Draco was all but dragged into an alcove as he left the Great Hall. Thankfully he was all alone, otherwise the Slytherin’s would have had a million questions.
When he looked at just who had grabbed him he couldn’t even feign surprise when he looked and saw that it was the Gryffindor’s. But none of them said a word, Potter simply shoved a crumpled bit of parchment into his hand.
Curiously, he uncrumpled the letter and read it.
‘It’s hatching.’
The scrawl was messy and had a few big globs of ink on it.
“It’s from Hagrid, we’re gonna head down there after our morning classes,” Potter let out, hushed and quick.
“At lunch?” He clarified, handing back the parchment.
Potter nodded and stuffed it into his pocket.
“Ronald wanted to skip Herbology.” Granger looked at Weasley with a sharp and disapproving look.
“Not like we are ever gonna get to see a dragon hatching again in our lives, Hermione.” Weasley huffed and crossed his arms.
Draco quickly interrupted them, “I can do lunch.” He nodded once, trying to look quite serious when internally he was jumping up and down in absolute excitement.
‘A dragon! I GET TO SEE A DRAGON!!!!’ He had seen dragons before, of course, but never close up, never without that fire-proof glass or a mountain of wards.
The four first years were snapped out of their own little world by the Great Hall door opening and a flood of students stepping into the corridor. Luckily they didn’t have to worry about being run over or seen, due to the privacy of the alcove.
Unluckily they were a bit stuck, the way out being blocked by all the students.
By the time they actually made it to Herbology most of the class was already there and at their stations, in pairs. The Gryffindor’s easily paired up with others from their house, Granger and Potter going to one station while Weasley went to the station next to them and sat with another Gryffindor boy.
But when Draco looked at the Slytherin’s he realized that none of them were free.
‘But then who’s my partner..?’ Draco silently questioned just before Sprout asked, “Does anyone not have a partner? Mr. Malfoy seems to be without one!”
His cheeks exploded in pink as the whole of the class turned their eyes to where he stood in the doorway. He silently wished that a hole would have opened up beneath him in that moment as he ducked his down and bit at his lip.
“No one wants to come forward? Longbottom!” The Herbology professor called, making Draco glance up to see the terrified Gryffindor being called upon. “You don’t have a partner, do you?”
The Gryffindor seemed to shrink down slightly before giving a small, barely there nod.
“Perfect! Malfoy with Longbottom, now let’s get started.”
After a moment’s hesitation Draco walked over to Longbottom station and came to stand next to the terrified boy.
“Now, as we started before the holiday, we will put our knowledge of the plant dittany into practice in how to properly care and harvest it.” Sprout explained as she waved her wand and pots of dittany were floated to the stations.
A pot softly landed in front of them, the leaves barely even moving with how carefully it was put down.
“Now, to test what you all remember, and who did their easter homework, who knows the practical uses of dittany?” The professor’s brown eyes roamed around the room for a moment. “Yes, Miss Granger?”
“Dittany is a key ingredient in many healing and restorative potions, the most famous of which being the potion of the same name, which is so powerful that it can make a serious and fresh wound look as though it is several days old.” Granger spoke as though she was reciting it word for word from the textbook.
“Perfect as always, Miss Granger, 5 points to Gryffindor!” She happily awarded and rested her hands in front of her in a merry way. “Now, what I first want you to do is to prune and carefully collect the leaves from the dittany.”
Then she very carefully reviewed how to do just that before turning them to work on their own pots with their partners.
Draco didn’t even wait for Longbottom, who still was slumped in on himself and hadn’t made a single attempt to even move. He picked up a pair of shears and stepped closer to the dittany.
“W- Wait!” A voice quickly called, making Draco stop just before he was going to start cutting the leaves. He glanced back and saw Longbottom there, looking slightly more alert.
A flare of annoyance passed through him before the Slytherin huffed, “what?”
The blond Gryffindor looked uncertain and slightly terrified, staying quiet for a moment longer and staring at Draco with wide eyes.
Draco closed his eyes for a moment, taking in a breath and holding it for a moment before letting it out slowly and blinking open his eyes. “What is it, Longbottom?”
Longbottom stood there for a moment more, still looking just as terrified but then he slowly took a step forward. “You… You don’t want to use shears on dittany,” He said shakily, his voice quiet and his eyes trained firmly to the plant in front of them as he picked up a small knife from his own set. “A smaller knife will- will make it smoother, shears will be too rough and you’re more likely to cut and ruin the leaves.”
As he explained this he showed how to slide the knife between the small branches and carefully cut the leaves. “It- It also lets you cut off singular leaves that are in a b- bunch, if the others aren’t ready to be harvested.”
A steady pile of dittany leaves, all in perfect condition, was steadily growing. As Draco glanced around he saw many using shears, just as he was going to, really only one or two other pairs had decided on a knife, Granger being one. And even then those piles weren’t nearly as big nor were the leaves so perfectly separated.
“You're… pretty good at this, huh?” Draco questioned before he moved forward a little, trying to get a better look at just how to do this, in case it was on the practical final.
Longbottom made a small sound but didn’t outright answer the question.
“How?”
At that the little lion blinked, as though shocked that Draco had even deigned to ask him a genuine question.
“I… I like gardening.” He kept it at that, not elaborating more on that and instead deciding to focus more on the plant.
They were the first one’s done, and the only ones who made an absolutely perfect score on the pruning section of the assignment. They got 5 points each for the amazing job they did, although neither pointed out that it was Longbottom that did all of the work.
Just before class let out, after taking back the pots of freshly pruned dittany, Sprout announced there would be homework, causing many to groan.
Unlike many professors she didn’t get onto them, instead she laughed good naturedly. “I want you all to write a 4 foot essay on the uses of dittany and the effects it can have when mixed with other ingredients in potions. It’ll be due at the end of this week.”
At the word potions all of the, very little, confidence that Longbottom had gotten during class disappeared instantly. He slumped down, disheartened and looking just as Draco had felt during class.
Draco thought, and thought, and thought. It wasn’t until he had secured his bag over his shoulder that he turned to Longbottom. “You. Me. Library. After classes later. Be there.” Draco demanded before walking off to the Slytherins with his nose held high, not even waiting for a response.
“We should be going, McGonagall won’t be generous if we’re late.” Draco said before he led them to their next class.
~5~
If Draco thought he was excited earlier for lunch it was nothing compared to what he felt as he and the Gryffindor’s stepped onto the steps of the Groundskeepers cottage.
Hagrid greeted them, his face flush with excitement, looking almost like a child on their birthday.
“It’s nearly out.” He ushered them into the sweltering hut quickly before shutting the door and locking it behind them.
The egg was sitting in the center of the table, there were deep cracks that radiated from multiple spots on the egg. A curious clicking sound was coming from the egg, which moved ever so slightly every few seconds.
They all quickly moved to sit around the table, watching with bated breath and fixated eyes. Draco could barely sit still, feeling as though there was a mooncalf dancing around in his stomach.
It had only been a few minutes before all at once there was a scraping noise and the egg split open.
A slimy baby dragon flopped onto the table, looking as though it was a black, crumpled umbrella that was covered in troll boogers. It had large spiny wings, dwarfing the jet black body. It had a long snout with wide nostrils, stubs for horns, and bright, almost glowing orange eyes.
Draco couldn't help but lean forward ever so slightly, staring at the ugly creature in wonder as the little creature sneezed out a couple of sparks.
“Isn’t he beautiful?” Hagrid murmured as he reached out a hand to stoke the dragon’s hand. Immediately it turned its head up and snapped at his fingers, showing its pointed fangs.
“Bless him, look, he knows his mummy!” said Hagrid, looking absolutely overjoyed despite the dragon continuing to snap and nip.
“Hagrid,” Granger cut in, sounding a bit concerned, “how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?”
“Oh quite fast.” He answered vaguely, obviously distracted as he wiggled his fingers at the little creature. "About 3 feet in the first week alone!"
The four first years quickly glanced at one another, more than a bit concerned at that answer.
As much as he was excited to see a dragon so close up he couldn’t help but be more than concerned, especially when he let his eyes roam over the already quite cramped hut.
Draco didn’t have a good feeling about this and by the looks of it the Gryffindor’s felt the same.