Draco Dormiens Nonquam Titillandus
Scorpius knew as soon as he saw the dragon:
This was magic.
A squib he might be, but he could feel the power rolling off the magnificent beast in waves. He felt himself engulfed in its aura; he was drunk on it. His heart beats filled his throat and ears, his blood electric in his veins.
I wonder if the others feel like this every time they use magic?
He took a step closer, then another. Albus grabbed him.
"What in Merlin's name are you doing?" He signed, horrified.
Scorpius rolled his eyes. "I'm training for the ballet, Potter. What does it look like I'm doing?" He grinned, but Albus didn't smile back. His gaze was locked on the dragon.
Scorpius eased himself free of his friend's clutches. "Come on, Albie. What would Rose do? Do you think she'd let us get away with seeing a dragon and not even trying to get closer? Besides, Charlie said she was tame!"
"Rose is not even here", Albus grumbled quietly. He stuck his hands in his pockets and allowed himself to look away from the Long-Tailed Scarlet Reaper to cast a worried glance back at Uncle Charlie.
My dad rode a dragon once, he thought – and it wasn't a tame one, either. All the same, a dragon was a dragon, and he'd long since realised that he was no Harry Potter. He eyed the sleeping dragon furling and unfurling its tail like a curl of red smoke. Charlie had never said the dragon was tame, either – simply that he and his team had been handling her since birth. He'd always insisted that there was really no curbing that wild streak in their nature. Quietly, Albus had wondered if this was precisely why Charlie loved them.
Uncle Charlie had always seemed rather free and wild, himself. He was somewhat dragonesque himself with his large, burned arms, flaming orange hair, and his bright, daredevil smile. When he hugged Albus, he smelled like sunlight and wood-smoke and leather – and it didn't help that he'd had several sharp-coloured dragons tattooed onto his skin (much to Mrs Weasley's dismay). Albus had noticed Scorpius eyeing them in awe as they licked over Charlie's arms at dinner. Even Charlie, though, wouldn't let Scorpius wander into danger, would he? He was supposed to be watching them. And nana Weasley had promised to feed him to one of his dragons if any harm came to them whilst they were under his care.
Albus tried to catch Charlie's eye, but his uncle was watching Scorpius' glee in fond amusement. He had been a little reserved with Albus' friend at first; held back in his usual easy affections by the name "Malfoy" and the memory of the war. But Scorpius' unassailable enthusiasm for dragons and genuine admiration for Charlie had broken the ice between them. They now got along like a house on fire, and Albus found himself feeling almost jealous at times.
He's my friend. He's just my friend, he told himself. It had become an all-too familiar mantra of late. He glanced away from Charlie to say something to Scorpius, only to find that he had used Albus' moment of distraction to sneak several yards forward.
"Scorpi!" Albus clapped softly to get his attention. Scorpius pressed a finger to his lips.
"Shh, she's sleeping. If you wake her up, she won't be happy." Albus could have growled in frustration. "Fine. You're the stubbornest though"
"And you're the bestest", Scorpius replied, "now come on!" They crept forward, grateful suddenly for the blazing sun, which had evaporated all moisture from the earth. Their footfalls made barely a whisper on such soft, dry ground.
Two steps closer -
Three steps -
The dragon twitched in her sleep, exhaling grey breath like a faulty exhaust engine. Albus felt a cough coming. He fought it back desperately.
Five steps closer -
His throat was itching terribly now. He scratched it with his fingers, but the itch was inside, in his lungs -
Ten steps, and the dragon was so near; so very near. Scorpius began to reach out one hand.
And the cough broke through Albus' lips. He put a hand over his mouth in shock.
The world froze for a second.
Close behind him, Albus could feel footsteps pounding the ground. Was Charlie running? Why? He looked back. His uncle was belting towards them at full pelt, his face stricken. He was waving his arms, shouting too, but the words were unclear; frazzled with panic and exertion. Albus could guess what was wrong though; oh, he could guess.
The cold crept over him in an instant, the sun blocked out by an enormous shadow.
A dragon-shaped shadow. He turned.
In a beat, he took in the wings, arched and stretched to their full length, their undersides like the ceiling of a scarlet cathedral; the legs, thicker than pillars; the great eye itself bigger than Albus' entire body, and Scorpius, Scorpius standing before it, facing it down, alone, Scorpius, stock still, hand still outstretched, Scorpius -
Albus took a step forward, making as if to run to him. Charlie, still panting, grabbed his collar from behind.
"Stop!" He signed. "No sudden movements. He'll be OK as long as she doesn't think he's a threat".
'as long as'.
'if.'
'maybe'.
Albus found he didn't deal well with uncertainties when it came to Scorpius' life. He bit down hard on his lip, tasting blood, and stared ahead. He could feel himself trembling under the warmth of Charlie's hold.
And then the dragon roared.
"GET DOWN!" Charlie bellowed at Scorpius. He ducked, and just in time; the torrent of fire missed him by seconds. He rolled, his elbows coughing up dust clouds. The dragon followed him with slinking, feline movements. She was eerily graceful for a creature her size.
"Lie still!" Charlie ordered. He walked over cautiously, summoning several other dragon keepers with a flare blast from his wand. They surrounded the dragon, closing in, with their own wands raised high. Scorpius pressed his body flat on the ground. This was quite a feat when his blood was pumping fiercely in his ears and he felt like his muscles had turned to liquid adrenaline. Albus could see him breathing raggedly from ten feet away, his white-blond hair stark against the dark ground, half his face iced with that awful, clinging grey dust. Their eyes met. Albus tried to smile reassuringly. Scorpius began to smile back.
And then the dragon's jaws closed over his head.
Albus' scream tore from deep inside his throat. It was a haunting blade of sound; feral, terrified, and burning with grief.