Chapter 1
Chapter 1: Dragon Man
Scorpius scuffed the grey dirt with a toe and leaned forward to hold his marshmallow over the fire. The warm evening air cradled the soft crackling of the blaze, the chirrup-chirrup of crickets, and the sticky-sweet smell of melting marshmallows. The five of them were lounging in Charlie’s garden after a day of travelling.
Rose leaned back on her elbow, licking stickiness off her fingers before pulling out another sweet from the packet. Griff watched her furtively as he caught and released the snitch he’d brought to fiddle with.
Catch. Release. Glance.
Catch. Release. Glance.
Scorpius had to admit that the marshmallows were fun to toast, and unlike wizarding sweets, they didn’t do anything strange or unexpected, thank you very much. He could grow used to muggle confectionary, which didn’t make you vomit or turn into a canary or blow up in your mouth. He’d had one too many of Rose’s Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes to ever trust non-muggle sweets again. Thank God for Griff being muggleborn. Thank God for muggle marshmallows. He sighed contentedly and tipped his head back to the sky.
They’d only been at Charlie’s villa in Romania for an afternoon, but he already felt at home. Albus had finally given in to Scorpius’ insistence. It had been inevitable, really. Once Albus had divulged that his uncle Charlie was a dragon keeper, Scorpius simply had to visit. He had to!
Rose, always up for an adventure, agreed, and together they had pestered their families and Albus, until they had given in. Griff had been keen, too; although whether for the holiday, to see dragons, or simply to escape the care home, Scorpi wasn’t sure.
The final straw came when James announced that he couldn’t come because he had a job at the ministry. Their parents were staying behind for a well-earned break from their pestering; and Hugo and Lily, much to their disdain, were told they were too young to go. Albus had come around to the idea when he realised it would be just the four of them and Charlie. His favourite people in the world.
It had been five years since they’d all become friends; five years of pranks and sneaking about, of sharing homework; or rainy days teasing each other, and summer afternoons with Hagrid and his latest monster-friend.
He, Rose and Albus had cheered Griff on when he tried out for the quidditch team, Rose from her position as beater. The dark roots of their beginnings had become obscured by years of friendship. Scorpius hardly ever thought of that night in the lake anymore. Griff was one of his best friends, now.
However, if he was painfully honest with himself - which he rarely was - Scorpius did sometimes find himself watching Albus grin, and remembering when that smile had been stolen, smoothed over by skin; and he hadn’t been able to swim or take a bath for five years. Not even when he and Albus had become prefects last year, and gained access to the stunning bathroom with the pool-sized tub and the fountains of perfumed foam…
It was nothing. Nothing! He was over it. That was years ago; and Griff had proven his remorse and friendship many times, since. And hadn’t their parents been through far worse than being held underwater for a bit? His own father had been trapped in a house with Voldemort and his death eaters for months, for Pete’s sake.
But it broke something in him, whispered a small, stubborn voice in his head.
Why did the voice of unflinching truth always sound like Rose, even in his head? She was brash, unfailingly honest, even when it hurt, he supposed. It made her difficult to be around sometimes, especially when you were hiding from some truth or another. Albus was altogether more sensitive in that regard…
He mused quietly, watching the baby dragon that Charlie was hand-rearing until it could be re-released as it bumbled about the garden, poking at the dragonflap in the back door with a blunt snout. With a snort, it released a sudden burst of steam and propelled itself back several feet, landing belly-up in the dust.
The look of confusion on its face was so comically shocked that they couldn’t help but laugh. Charlie threw back his head and roared with laughter. His firewhiskey jumped from his glass and spattered the ground, and he set it down carefully, flicking droplets from his fingers and shaking his head in exasperation.
“You’d never know it, but one day she’ll be the most dangerous predator on the continent”, he chuckled.
Scorpius watched Charlie’s tattoos writhe in the firelight.
“When can we see an adult one?”
Charlie rolled his eyes. “Tomorrow. I promise. But you have to follow my instructions. ALL of you.” He looked meaningfully at Rose, who froze in the act of whisking away his half-empty glass.
“That’s strong stuff,” he said. “But go ahead, if you dare.”
Rose, now with an audience, could not back out. She took a breath and gulped down the burning liquid. Her face contorted and she descended into a coughing fit so violent that firewhiskey spurted from her nose and hit Albus. He flinched away with an “Eurgh!”
Charlie’s gravelled laugh rumbled out, and Griff and Scorpius joined in. It was infectious.
“But seriously,” Charlie continued, “they’re dangerous creatures, dragons. Wild, beyond anything you’ve ever imagined.”Griff glanced at Rose.
“At the end of the day, whatever you’ve heard from Hagrid, they’re not tame”.
Scorpius bit his lip to catch the retort bubbling indignantly to his lips. He liked Hagrid. He really liked him. And sure, he wasn’t always the most logical when it came to magical creatures, but… that same instinct to trust, to not judge, had led Hagrid to be one of the first people to not judge him for his family. It made sense, when he remembered who Hagrid’s mother had been, but still…
Since they’d started Hogwarts, he’d become somewhere between a friend and a surrogate father to the four of them. He always seemed to have time for them and their school news and their teenage worries. He’d even taken them tracking in the forbidden forest when he’d seen Scorpius’ enthusiasm for magical wildlife. And Hagrid had promised to do so again, when September came. He was certain there was a Will O’ the Wisp haunting the woods, and he wanted Scorpius’ opinion. Scorpi knew full well Hagrid didn’t need the advice of a sixteen year old. But he loved him all the more for asking for it.
Despite this last comment, Scorpius had to admit that Charlie was coming in a close third in his list of favourite adults… Albus had always described his uncle Bill as cool, but Charlie… He was on another level altogether…
Still handsome, in a rugged, weathered, middle-aged kind of way; his skin awash with freckles from years in the sun, his orange hair shot with silver in a way that seemed to make him even more good looking, Charlie moved with the unconscious confidence of a man utterly at ease with himself. He was muscled and burned and scarred in ways that only seemed to enhance his looks - and his arms sported two wizarding tattoos of dragons which curled under his skin as if alive. He’d named one after Percy Weasley, who had told him dragon keeping wasn’t a respectable tradition, and one after his first boss, who, he’d said, was a complete-” his last word was bitten up by the bellowing of a dragon in the woods nearby. The tattoos were a reminder not to let people get you down, he’d explained. A kind of personal “fuck you” to the haters.
Rose had grinned, commenting that her mum’s hair would curl if she could hear Charlie’s dirty language, but Charlie had shrugged. He was who he was, and he would neither change nor apologise.
Shortly after meeting him, Scorpius had decided that he wanted wizarding tattoos that moved, too, as soon as he turned seventeen next year. He wondered what Albus would say. He caught Albus’ eye and winked. This was going to be the best summer ever .