Thank you ALL for your reviews, follows and favorites! I am seriously SO happy that there people who enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoy writing it.

Updates should be on time with the exception of the week of Christmas. Frankly, I might be so rotund with cookies and food that I will be unable to type. Ha ha. Just kidding. But seriously I might miss that week, and I apologize in advance for it.

On with the next installment!

Chapter 30

Draco Malfoy coughed as the dust flitted along his face as he lay, back-down, in the dirt. He coughed and squinted, but made no attempt to set up. Plodding closer to where he lay, the sound of two velveteen lips approached as they bopped a few times, exploring his face nearer his ear. The slime of the horse's mouth got his attention before anything else, and he covered the muzzle with his cupped hand as he grumbled and pushed the overly-curios animal away. Unconcerned with Draco's lack of interest in being explored, the horse tried a second time, nicking softly at him while he lay there, prodding at him with its pester and curiosity.

"Off me, already!" Draco grumbled, and from higher above his supine position Theo and Tyt'o both laughed.

"Amateur move, mate." Theo chided, and Tyt'o whistled lowly.

"You had her!" Tyt'o exclaimed, and riding up to the trio, Hermione cried with an indignant tone.

"That is a lie." She said haughtily, and reigned in her horse. "Distinctly, I had him. I'm not the one on the ground about to be deflowered by a horse's muzzle!"

"Oh, gods!" Theo exclaimed in disgust at her vulgar implication. Tyt'o grimaced and made a disgusted, wordless noise. "Are you entirely certain that that slip of a girl astride that horse is in any way a product of this House?" The Nott heir queried. Tyt'o shook his head from side to side, slowly.

"If I hadn't all but watched her coming into this world, I would agree with you in gusto." He grumbled, and Theo laughed as the two wheeled their mounts back to the starting lines where Master Black waited patiently. Hermione looked back at Draco, and sighed. She dialed back the sonority of her voice that only Draco and their horses might be able to listen.

"You ought not to continue letting me win, Draco." She murmured as he sat up, giving off a light groan as his horse crowded him continually. He dusted the front of his breeches and gave the horse a remaining gentle push away that he could gather himself to his feet. He found himself fighting a smile as he gathered his reigns to mount the horse once more, facing away from her.

"Who among us states that I'm letting you win?" He asked playfully over his shoulder and she tisked at him.

"You could have unseated me easily just now, your spell was stronger, and yet you deflected it over my shoulder." As he jumped into an arc and seated himself back amid his saddle, Draco looked at her. She showed more concern than she ought, he realized. And add in just a little insecurity as well. He smirked.

"Am I to be faulted for my unwillingness to bring harm to my intended?" She grimaced at his choice of words, and shushed him emphatically.

"Speak nothing of that word our here in the open!" She said urgently and looked over her shoulder to the trio which milled around, waiting for them to walk their horses back down the row to their starting points once again.

"Why ever not? Is that not what you are to me? My intentions have not changed: Have you doubts or after thoughts about accepting an offer?" He challenged and she frowned.

"You know I have no such thoughts." She said, trying to be gentle. She saw there to be insecurity there about him in his posture, and in his words. "I am steadfast in my acceptance of your promise. I only desire that you not hold yourself back in the tutelage we receive. Not only are you committing a disservice to yourself, but we will cast suspicion on ourselves if this continues." She smiled at him and turned her horse to walk beside his. He smiled at her again.

"Good, then I am assured you have not changed your mind." She laughed; the sound was merry and filled with mirth. Her lips were dusky and pink, and Draco felt himself overcome with the lingering want to feel them once again, as they used to in secret.

"That entire declamation, and you care only that you remain in my favor!" He chuckled with her, wishing that he could collect her hand in his own and lay a kiss to her palm. To feel the warmth of some part of her once again, to hear how his light touches could make her gasp, or emit soft noises of approval, and eagerness. He shifted in his saddle. Now was NOT the time to be reminiscing or longing, he realized. He cleared his throat.

"Nothing else is as important." He murmured to her, and her eyes grew soft as she looked at him a moment.

"You have such unexpected depth to your kind heart, I find." She whispered, and looked forward so as to seem unaffected by anything further. "But you must not squander these chances we are given to improve and refine our abilities. The hatching approaches, and if you are not to be a champion-" She trailed off and shifted uncomfortably at the implication she made. She looked back to him, praying that she conveyed her seriousness. "That must not come to pass."

The pair closed in the last ten feet to the group and Master Black smiled at his wayward pupils. He looked at Hermione expectantly. "Fare thee well?" He inquired and she nodded, smiling.

"Aye, Draco has no ill feeling about being unseated by a slip of a girl." Sirius chuckled.

"Hardly a slip you are, child." He said approvingly. "But young Lord Malfoy must do better next round." He added. "Your spell did not find purchase, young Lord. Remind me again, what was my lesson pertaining to aim and focus?" he challenged Draco. The young man swallowed before answering, carefully watching the Masters expression to determine if he was wise to the fact that Draco had missed on purpose.

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She waved her hand quickly over the parchment as she focused on modifying the words once again. More innocuous than before. She concluded silently, and made a few more adjustments to her letter. Her penmanship was precise and refined; just as a lady's should be. In truth, she could have penned this letter magically, and it would have produced the same style of word, but she did still enjoy some little tasks without employ of magic.

Satisfied at the concealed message, she bound the letter in a spell, and sealed it with a flourish of melted wax with her familial seal. Not her the seal of her husband's House; but her own true-born House. She looked at the seal, contemplatively, with its trio of ravens. A House of such greatness, power, prestige…. Now subjected to nothing more than ruin and humiliation.

Her beautiful face twisted in a grimace as she reminisced over her childhood, the family of her House. So many bright Lords and Ladies had hailed from her line; why now was it that the House and lands could remain so ruined, and disgraced? She traced the three birds affectionately, feeling bolstered in her remembrances. The line could still be re-forged. She reminded herself. There were still possibilities left, yet.

The first time she had asked her husband about restorations to her home lands, and to the Castle of Black, her husband had laughed. The bastard had the nerve to laugh at her. Her face bloomed with heat, the flashback of the utter mockery in his tone, as his silvery laugh filled the air. Their then-little son had begun wailing for his wet nurse, and she had distractedly handed the babe off while she had inquired further as to what the man felt was so amusing about her wish to restore the Castle, and petition to have the Heir reinstated. Her insistence proved unwise, however, as Lucius had caressed the side of her cheek in an uncustomary show of affection before he'd gripped her hard around the mouth and dragged her into his lap.

His voice was so low she would have struggled to hear it if she weren't right next to his mouth. He sneered at her wail of shock and terror. Of the pain he caused her, for bruises were certain to form where he pinned her with his strong hand. Your House, he'd explained. Is nothing more than a derelict shanty. The only things left of value have already been claimed. He'd given her one more look over as her eyes squeezed shut, and her tears started to flow, and he shoved her from him violently. In her fall to catch herself, her dress had smudges of dirt, her cheeks had tracks of tears.

That wasn't the first time in her married life that Narcissa Black, the now-Lady Malfoy, had felt fear. It certainly wasn't the last, either.

Though, even she had to admit that over the years, Lucius's volatility had stayed….. Somewhat. She had grown more attuned to his tempers, and how to navigate herself around them. If she were lucky, she would only have to suffer the occasional warming of his bed, when he felt as though she needed to be reminded of her proper place. Beneath him.

Normally it was a slew of domestic girls and staff ladies that maintained his attentions. Narcissa didn't pay his diverted attentions any mind; she reveled in the freedom it granted her, and the lessening of the burden to entertain his libidinous behavior so frequently. Of which, it seemed, there was no end. She glanced at another piece of paper, not far from the one she'd been focusing herself on and sighed in annoyance.

Another domestic carted off after a meeting with the apothecary serving their House to rid herself of her Lord's unwanted bastard. She shook her head; she should be grateful that this year it had been only two of them. The year of their son's birth she had had to content with six weeping maidens, desperate in their grief and wailing their laments over their fallen virtues. Such, though, was the curse of this gods-be-damned-House. She reminded herself, and she scratched out the name of the most recent maid, sent away to complete the abortion of her Lord's abominable seedling inside her and unlikely to return back to the service of their employ. The Lady sighed; they were beginning to run out of women around this House, and she had already penned several letters to the lesser vassal Houses in bequest that any families within the fiefdom seeking domestic work should come to the Castle Malfoy to interview.

Her blink lasted longer than it should have, and she scribbled a few nonsense words out on her paper before letting go of her quill and allowing her magic to take over the job for her. Leaning back, she poured a goblet of wine and sipped as the item imbued with sheer will exerted through her magic continued to doodle out her thoughts aimlessly. One of these days a bastard was going to show up on the front door demanding to be recognized, she groaned internally. And with any hope he will be younger than Draco, and unable to contest the right as heir. Narcissa pondered sourly at her incessant task of managing her son's birthright. The only reason she bothered at all was to make the torturous years she had spent beneath this roof count for something.

Within a few minutes, she perked up again, a thought having occurred to her during her contemplation. Herbs! It had hit her so precipitously, she had nearly dropped her drinking vessel. The Lady summoned new papers to her and took direct control of her writing implement as she wrote a summons for the House apothecary.

If her husband would not take greater care with the poor wretches he foisted his body upon, then at least she would see to it his seed was empty and posed no threat to the future of her own flesh and blood. Narcissa smiled wickedly, as she completed her summons, and sealed the letter with the crest of her mother House; the Noble and Ancient House of Black.

The House of Black would not be cowed forever, she promised herself internally as she summoned her night prowler with her affectionate cooing and kissing noises. Her owl flitting to her gladly to attend the Lady's bidding.

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It wasn't until sometime later in that week that Theo was able to get Draco away from the group; between the arrival of Samhain, and the return to the rigors of training, testing, and riding, the young pupils were all but dead on their feet by the end of the day. They ate their food with ravenous appetites and often accepted draughts concocted by the apothecaries of the House to aid their muscles in resting, and calming their minds to ensure restful sleep, only so they could repeat the same efforts day in and day out.

The young men shared guest rooms in the same wing, and while at their first arrival to the House of Gresham, they had not made many overtures of friendship, circumstances and feelings had shifted greatly in the months they had resided in the House. It had even become an occurrence that they lingered in the Great Hall with Tyt'o and Hermione to socialize for some time before everyone concluded themselves to the privacies behind their doors. With the return and gradually returning health of Loren, it was often then too that he lingered behind, and was accompanied by Ursa during these times.

Thought, upon his initial return, Theo had picked up immediately that the reunion between Lord and Lady had not been much looked-forward to. In fact, it had seemed as though the Lady had been significantly cold to her Lord. One would not see that now, as even presently she allowed him to continue to hold her hand in his as he absentmindedly caressed her soft fingers with his own calloused hands. He showed a great deal of tenderness, and in a bit of an unusual display for a Lord especially in what was considered a public setting. From the side-long smiles she paid him, and often, it seemed that neither were concerned in that regards.

Without a shadow of any doubt; the months that had been spent with the Gresham's had proven to be both the most grueling because of their training, but additionally the most rewarding. Upon his arrival, Theo had presumed that he would find the teachings and practicum easy and frivolous, but had been shocked that the reality was entirely different. Despite his father's vast libraries and self-proclaimed prowess, Theodore Nott had discovered that his own skill level had been woefully underwhelming.

Much of that, to this point, had now changed. Each of the participants spent their days –and all of that day- both honing their focuses and discovering to what ends they could bend their will and therefore the magic they wielded. When their minds needed rest, they sharpened their riding prowess with vigorous and challenging rides upon horseback. Not having grown up with any stock animal present in his father's lands, Theo had been lamentingly unprepared for how difficult it was to merely stay on the back of a horse moving at a simple trot.

One would imagine that remaining seated and stable astride an animal as basic as a horse would be menial, and unchallenging. The aches that Theo had experienced within the deep tissues of his inner thighs, buttocks and lower back for the first five weeks of riding had spoken a wholly other story. It was when his own muscles had acclimated and begun to grow stronger that he had fully begun to appreciate how much work the two Gresham siblings put into their mastery of riding, for he and Draco could now boast that –while not certainly masters as Tyt'o and Hermione would be considered- that the pair of them were accomplished and confident now in their own rites. So much so that they had moved into riding some of the more high-spirited equine species the Gresham's bred.

This day, much the same as many previous, had left both Theo and Draco sore but quite happy. Their months in this environment had proven vastly more pleasurable than they had imagined they could be. As the pair clambered the stairs together towards their own rooms, Theo noted that again they had reached a new plateau in their physical accomplishments as neither one of them were using the rail as a crutch to take the weight from their aching legs.

When finally far enough toward their destinations, Theo signaled Draco with a jerk of his head and the young blond quirked his eyebrow upward. "Aye?" He said indifferently. Theo glanced around a moment, satisfied that they could see no one within ear shot, and he motioned to the alcove past the head of the stairs which both separated their rooms, but opened through doors into a balcony where just two people could fit.

Situating themselves there, Theo leaned back on the stone railing and sized up his companion, he folded his arms across his chest. Draco's gray eyes betrayed no curiosity under the scrutiny as he waited Theo out, and they stood there for a few minutes in silence before Theo spoke finally.

"Have you received many letters from your father since you've been here?" He asked, dallying around his topic as much as he could before he made his move.

"Aye, just a few. And you?" He asked back. Theo shrugged.

"Only the one for my one." Theo played nonchalance. "The Lord of Nott was unsurprisingly brief in his letters, so I was curious as to what heed you've bidden to Lord Malfoy's instruction." He gave him a conspiratorial nod of his head, and noted that Draco's weight shifted from one foot to another, and he licked his lips. AH HA, he thought to himself. He's uncomfortable talking about the directives we were given. So Theo pressed on, glad his companion had given away that subtle tell.

"Are we truly in agreement that we will be taking the wyrms with us to your father as soon as we can apparate them out?" Theo's inquiry was no longer casual, but earnest. Both of the young men had all but ceased their growth in the vertical capacity, and though while both tall had also shared a leaner frame before they became guests and trainees with the Gresham House. Now, however, the daily training and strict physical involvement had allowed the two to fill out into more masculine appearances.

Theo, the one with propensity for more thickness to his being, could feel the newly developed hardness of his upper arms under his own hands as he physically dominated the space they occupied, pressing Draco in a more physical capacity as he traveled down this line of questioning. He needed to know if what he'd guessed was developing between his companion and the young Lady Gresham, or not. For this greatly changed their modus operandi.

The Nott heir had long made his own conclusion about returning to his father, with a baby Dragon in tow, to be shaped and used as an eventual weapon against the Houses of the Guild. And it was time he figured out if Draco had come to similar culminations as well.

The side of Draco's mouth pinched as Theo closed in his space, his blue eyes hardened as he waited for Draco's answer. The two had not openly discussed their plans together since their arrival to the castle, nor had either been fool enough to write to their fathers to reveal any more than their own well-being and confirm that they continued unfettered in study and training.

His eyes met Theo's and the two measured the other up; had Theo this entire time been clinging to the instructions handed down to him through his father, in the ultimate service to the Houses United? His line of questioning was direct, certainly, but was it genuine? The young Malfoy decided to see how far it they had both strayed from their charge while in this House.

"I have need to alter our previous errand." Draco offered.

"In what capacity shall it then diverge?" Theo watched as Draco licked his lips just briefly. He was nervous. Theo narrowed his eyes just slightly as he waited.

"Have you imagined what repercussions will commence when we abscond this House, two baby Dragons in tow? To places where the folk know nothing of Dragon care, or lore?" Theo considered the question; it was a reasonable concern; the pair of them still knew so little of what they were going to be faced with. The idea, at the start, had been so largely abstract that neither had ever considered what kinds of real challenges would face them. Now, however, as the mood of the Castle shifted and their lessons increased in difficulty with every day, it became more apparent that there was a level of responsibility that they would be shouldering that they knew not intrinsically. They would need much more help than they could ever hope to get from their own families.

"Might have crossed my mind." Theo said nonchalantly, and Draco tisked at him.

"These are living, breathing, thinking things, my friend." Draco said solemnly. "Speak to me of allegiance to this plan when we are holding a warm wyrmling beside us, nestled in hay in the nighttime in the nursery." The young Malfoy looked out into the evening and to the valley the castle was built in. The presence of the mountains acted as a cocoon of safety and protection for the House, and gave one a sense of enclosure being there. Draco sighed. "If we take them with us, what of the sires?" He asked. "Certainly the idea that the parents will not rest until they are found, and our Houses are obliterated in fire and death does not strike you heart with even the slightest trepidation?" The blond hoped that the words he chose were reasonable enough to show to Theo that this plan that had been hatched, had been cracked from the very beginning. Now that they resided here, trained here, lived here, Draco had no intentions of following through with this directive. Not now, and not ever. Becoming a Dragon rider notwithstanding, it was now his ardent interest to ensure that he could find a way to court and offer for the Young Gresham Lady, with whom great affection had blossomed for.

But that was not the reason Draco wanted to use to win Theo over. For all Draco knew, Theo had no inkling that his aristocratic compatriot took any note of the vibrant brunette, and he wished it to remain that way.

"It is a great danger yes." Theo agreed, and Draco pressed on seeing that headway had been made.

"We know nothing of Dragon care," He reminded, and Theo nodded his agreement. "If something were to go wrong, we would have no resource at our request to come to our aid. Should the youngling ail, or become stunted; what then?" He shrugged his shoulders in a show of dramatic concern.

Theo smirked, seeing his friend dance around the possibilities he presented. "Oh, greatly there would be challenges and pitfalls, of which we would be woefully unprepared." He said simply, and turned his head a little to the side. "Are you certain that this change in your posture doesn't involve any young Lady of this House?" He challenged, poking at Draco with his query.

Draco was uncertain if answering truthfully was the best path; he felt insecure in simply asking his friend straight-out about whether he felt the same way as Draco, in that he no longer wished to move forward with their plans. Theo had revealed little, but asked much.

The blond shook his head. "Verily not." He said simply, and Theo smirked at Draco's lie. The Malfoy tried to wear a nonchalance about him, but his eyes darted back to Theo and away when he spoke, and Theo knew it was a lie.

"Excellent. As I hear tell, you would have a contract for her hand should the Dragon riding training prove unfulfilled, so I have decided to write my father to arrange an offer for her." Draco's light eyebrows shot up over his forehead to their full height. He suddenly felt an itching in the knuckles of his hand that silently chanted at him to connect his fist with Theo's face until it was nothing more than a mess of blood and broken bone. He tamped that down and cleared his throat.

"I did not realize you were interested in her." He commented as though it were off-hand, and he looked away to try to build the façade that he was unaffected. There was no way Draco was going to let Theo make an offer for Hermione, he decided. The notion rolled around in his mind continuously as he felt his face get warm.

"Oh aye," Theo teased. "To return to my father with a pair of Dragons and a wife?" He let a leering quality enter his tone so as to bate his friend further. "She'd make the perfect little mother for my heirs, don't you agree?" Draco gritted his teeth and half-nodded his agreement. "A few years laying on her back warming a bed, and growing babies ought to suit her well for a life." Draco's gray eyes snapped back to Theo, and suddenly the young man had his friend by the shoulder and the throat. Their faces within inches of each other.

Prepared for the outburst, and honestly just surprised Draco had been able to school it for as long as he did, Theo gathered his magic and held his friend at bay before the blond could clamp down on his windpipe fully in his rage. The darker haired young Lord tisked back at Draco, now. "Seems that notion doesn't suit too well for you, does it, friend?" He teased, and Draco's expression of rage only darkened. "Oh, calm your fury, you sarding fool. I'm not interested in your Lady love." He made a brushing motion with his hand, and released the magic holding Draco just a hairs breath away from assaulting him.

Draco relaxed and scrutinized Theo anew, one of his eyebrows raised in silent question. "A ruse to see how I'd react." He said, mostly to himself, but Theo nodded all the same.

"Aye. And you crumbled easily. I imagine the notion of Hermione being taken by another Lord is unacceptable for you?" Draco nodded, his true motives bared now and he had nothing to hide behind. "Then the Dragons are secondary for you?"

"That's complicated." He conceded, and he rubbed the back of his neck. "I plan to offer for Hermione, the Dragons are…. Also of import."

"Then the play has changed." Theo said, dropping his arms to lean back against the rail again, securing himself by his palms. He looked up to the sky, and sighed. "So many variables." He commented, offhandedly. "I am similarly disposed to discontinue this scheme." He confessed, and Draco nodded thoughtfully.

"I thought as much. The longer we are away, the less there seems to go back to." He mentioned, and leaned now over the railing himself and searched the sky and ground down below lazily. "It seemed simpler when the Gresham's and the Guild were the adversary. We've been fed tales of their faults and failures for the whole of our lives. How could we imagine they would be so welcoming and kind to us, despite the circumstances?" He gestured at the land they resided in. "And what of the Lands Lord Gresham governs? I was to understand they wallowed in pig shit as simpletons and farmers! This be nothing of that ilk."

Theo nodded in agreement. "Nothing, it seems, was as it was taught to us." The young Nott joined Draco in leaning over the rail, emulating his posture as the two of them observed the goings-on below from their height. "These are not mere farmers with dirt smudges, tottering around in animal filth. This is a right proper Castle. The Lord is generally a good man, his wife a warm and loving woman. Tyt'o and Hermione have proven themselves in friendship and as allies-" Draco nodded absentmindedly to all of Theo's assessments.

"What then is the point of all this subterfuge?" Draco gestured out into the evening in futility. "Certainly, possessing Dragons places power at the seat of The Houses United, but to what end? What conflict occurs that such a feat is even necessary?" He asked further. Theo shook his head.

"I know not. Father has never been a…. forthcoming man. And in this, I am blind to understand what ends he hopes to accomplish. The Houses of the Guild have been painted for me as they have for you; our enemies in all things. To gain power is one thing, but it seems the conflict between these factions are based on farcical and fairy tale. Though I know not who the story teller has been."

Draco straightened up and looked to Theo. "Then we are agreed?" Theo nodded, and reached his hand to Draco and the pair clasp together at the wrists with a shake of hands.

"Aye. We are move forward with the tide. No turning back." As the pair smiled at their conclusion, a sudden thundering of wings over the air ripped through the sky overhead, interrupting their concluded conclave.

The interruption caused the pair to reach by flinching as they crouched when the massive body dipped down from the clouds above, beginning a large circle within the valley. The remainder of the light in the sky reflected in glittering patterns across the scales covering the gold body of the large male Dragon, and as the two straightened back up from their startled positions, they watched as the wings caught air, pumping to maintain height, and surveying the castle he flew over.

A trumped that was more a roar thundered through the air, filled with a savage timber and vibrated through the pairs heads and struck their ears with such intensity that it actually hurt. The pair winced and covered their ears to protect them, as the Dragon made another turn. The wind over his body whipped past, sending fierce gusts across the castle tops. The banners slacked and then tightened back up again under the assault, and the creature beat his wings slowly, extending them fully as he hovered over the opposite wing of the castle.

The Dragons great horns were long and regal, sweeping in a trio from the scaled face that Theo and Draco were now seeing for the first time. His body was positively massive, and beneath the living armor that covered him, muscles rippled as the creature hovered and lowered itself to perch, paying its focus to a balcony much like the one they stood upon now.

There was a lone figure standing there that they could see with a bit of clarity. The Dragon had stilled and folded his wings downward, laying them along his long back. He brought his massive head down, and a rhythmic and thrumming noise sounded emanated from him that could be felt even from where they stood. The vibration of it felt like nothing they'd ever experienced. It was strangely melodic, and twinged within them to their very bones and cores.

The pair were utterly mesmerized by what they saw in front of them: The great Dragon perched as carefully as feasible, claws shearing off pottery shingles from the rooftop that slid down the slanted roof and fall like leaves from a tree. The great beast opened its mouth, and looked upward momentarily, letting out a noise that both clucked and trembled at the same time. A barking noise, it could even be called, and Theo looked at Draco curiously to see if he understood the gesture, or the noise.

The Dragon leaned back down again, close to the person standing there at the balcony, and gently motioned its head in a rolling circle. Even from this distance, the two could see that it was Hermione who stood there alone with the Dragon. It leaned in and she pressed her whole body across it up the bridge of its muzzle. She had opened her arms and held him there, and the beast had closed its eyes as though it revels in the embrace.

At their distance, there were no words that they could hear, only that she released her hold on the creature then, and made vague gestures to him that caused it to tip its head before raising the vast wings to alight back upon the air currents and return to the sky. As the creature lifted off, the area from whence it had perched buckled and gave while the Dragon released its massive bulk from the structure, and a puff of dust appeared below it as the roof gave way slightly after the crushing mass placed on it.

The beast lifted then only enough to ease itself to the ground in the valley. The fading light no longer glittering from its body, but now more shrouded in the approaching night. Glancing back up to the balcony, Hermione no longer stood there. But below, there in the valley outside of the castle, was the great Dragon that Theo and Draco had heard so many tales of. It stood, folding his great wings and nuzzling a section of his membrane to reorder the fold comfortably. It was so vast in size that even at the ground, it could have stood atop its hind lefts and been only a few men in height from where they stood now.

With careful steps, the creature rounded to where they could no longer see it. Wordlessly, the pair escaped their mezzanine and headed back from their wing and down to the lowest level in the keep, so they could get a better look at the great creature that was so revered by their host family.

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