Word Count: 631
In theory, the dragon reserve should not be boring. After all, there is nothing boring about dragons.
Unfortunately, eight year old Dominique Weasley thinks she might lose her mind. Her parents are deep in conversation with Uncle Charlie. Victoire has found some handsome Greek wizard her age to flirt with, and Louis is too young to be any fun.
"I'm going to the garden!" she announces, but no one really seems to notice. She rolls her eyes and tucks her bright yellow diary under her arm and stalks off.
The garden is lovely. Dominique walks along, breathing in the floral scent and smiling to herself. She thinks she could stay here forever if given the chance. It is large and lush and perfect to play fun games like hide and seek or tag.
She takes a seat under the shade of a tall tree, opening her diary and plucking a self-inking quill from behind her ear, pondering what to write. She had planned to have so many exciting tales about Romania and dragons, but it hasn't lived up to her expectations at all. So far, the most thrilling thing to happen all day was when her dad stepped in dragon dung.
Still giggling at the mental image, Dominique begins to recount the story on paper. The way her dad had sworn loudly while Uncle Charlie had nearly fallen over from laughing so hard. The way Victoire's delicate nose had wrinkled and their mother pulled Louis away so quickly to make sure he didn't step in it as well.
She's about to turn the page when she hears the chaos. She can't quite make out the words, except for escaped. Given the clear panic all around, it's easy to put two and two together. She scrambles to her feet, clutching her diary. Her parents are just a quick stroll away in the recreational area. It will be easy to make it.
Except her path is almost immediately blocked by a dragon. It's only a baby, but it's still the size of an adolescent elephant, and there is a clear hunger in its eyes.
Dominique takes a deep breath. Uncle Charlie says the biggest rookie mistake is panicking when faced with a dragon. Most dragon handlers end up maimed if they can't keep their head.
"Hello, dragon," she says quietly, lifting her arms. Her diary drops to the grass at her feet. "I don't want any trouble, kay? I just want to find my mummy and daddy. I'll bet you want to find yours too, yeah?"
The soft tone and cautious gestures don't seem to faze the dragon at all. Dragons aren't at all like puppies. Her words do not soothe it.
Dominique trembles. She wants so badly to run away, to scream, to cry, but she is frozen. There is nothing she can do except keep her head high.
"No sudden moves," she tells herself, remembering her uncle's warning when they had visited the Horntail area. "No eye contact."
And then it happens. She doesn't know what they actually do, but half dozen dragon handlers swoop in and rangle the dragon. A moment later her father's arms are around her, and she's pulled close to him.
"That was amazing," Uncle Charlie says proudly. "Did you see her, Bill? Absolutely fearless!"
"You sound entirely too cheerful about that," her father says dryly.
Uncle Charlie laughs. "I'm just saying. Maybe Dom will follow in my footsteps."
Dominique pulls away from her father and bends down to retrieve her diary from the ground. "I don't think I want to play with dragons," she mutters.
"Then what would you like?" Uncle Charlie asks.
She shrugs. "Chocolate milk."
Grinning, Uncle Charlie lifts her up and slings her over his shoulder. "Then let's go find a chocolate cow!"
