A/N: I love this chapter! For so many reasons... I hope that you like it as much as I do.
Desert Dawn
They arrived in the Sahara Desert in the middle of the night. It made sense that the International Portkey Office was open 24 hours; for the first time, Hermione found herself using it at 2:30 in the morning. The day before, the dilemma arose regarding whether she should just try to stay up all night or take a nap. Draco suggested a nap. Hermione said she didn't really feel tired.
He devised an excellent way to tire her out. It started with her on the couch. He wasn't the least bit gentle with his teeth as he sucked and bit at her nipples, going back and forth between her breasts. All while three fingers pumped relentlessly in and out of her, crooked just right to rub against the perfect spot inside of her. Hermione was bucking her hips madly while her fingers dug into his shoulders. Later on, she would recall strings of words, profanities, Draco's name, and entreaties, leaving her lips, even though she couldn't recall exactly what they were. She reached over, trying to get a grip on his cock as he knelt beside the couch, driving her to insanity. She managed to grab it and swipe her hand up and down a few times before he wiggled his hips away from her reach. She had already orgasmed twice when she found it in her hand again and declared,
"Oh gods, you're so hard. I want your hard cock inside of me instead of your fingers. Please, please Draco," thinking her words, in conjunction with her hand, would get her what she desired. Instead he stood up and walked away. The curly-haired witch's first thought was, 'What the fuck just happened?' Meanwhile, Draco decided to try something he had been thinking about for the past few weeks, ever since their ice fishing trip.
After telling her that he had been with two witches, he tried to imagine asking another witch to join them in bed. The thing was, he couldn't imagine wanting to take his attention off of Hermione. He reflected back on how selfish he had been in his youth. Sure, he liked to make sure anyone in his bed enjoyed herself. Although in the end, his pleasure was always the most important factor. With a start, he realized that wasn't how he felt about Hermione. Which led him to imagining a way to increase her pleasure. It was an intriguing idea to contemplate another man helping him.
"Come here," Draco commanded. He was kneeling on the wood floor next to the couch, with a dildo he conjured up suctioned to the floor in front of him. He said a lubricating charm onto it, while his hand was holding it by the base. "You're going to ride this while you suck me off." Hermione wasted no time in squatting over it and working her way down while she took something slightly bigger than Draco deep inside of her. Draco helping to guide another cock into Hermione had him on the edge of release without being touched. Precum dripped onto the floor as he watched the phallus disappear into her. Once she was seated on it, he knelt up straight, she gripped the backs of his thighs for balance, and opened her mouth to pull his hard length deep into her throat. He wanted to watch it all forever, the way she was bouncing up and down on someone else, her mouth working him in time with her body's motions, her eyes staring up at him…
Instead, he came nearly immediately, shouting something unintelligible. She bobbed her head a few more times, making sure she swallowed every drop out of him. When he pulled his softening member out of her mouth, she fell forward onto her hands and knees, disengaging herself from the toy on the floor. Hermione had never felt so worked over in her life, she was shaking a bit and couldn't help laughing as she said,
"I don't think I can move."
Draco was sprawled upon the couch, facing her with his head on one of the armrests. "Now it's my turn to be inside you, witch," he beckoned her towards him, not caring how tired she thought she was. She crawled across the floor and then up between his legs. She drew his flaccid member into her mouth, willing it back to life. She moved her mouth down to lick and suck at it. "Use your teeth," he moaned. She moved her mouth further down and scraped her teeth against the skin as she pulled a bollock into her mouth, while her hand moved up and down his semi-hard shaft. "Yes, just like that. Don't stop." Hermione was kneeling with her arse up in the air and was feeling deliciously exposed. She wished there was someone behind her, touching her. The dual penetration earlier left her wanting more.
She continued in her endeavors until he stood fully engorged again. "Get up," Draco directed. He turned to sit facing forward on the sofa and ordered, "Turn around and ride me backwards." She sat on his lap, taking him in with no resistance. He slapped her arse roughly and demanded in a husky voice, "Touch yourself while you ride me fast and hard." He didn't hit her arse on every down stroke; he varied the timing and the side to keep her on edge. It was merely minutes before she was startled to find herself in the longest orgasm of her life. There was an ebb and flow to it, but it didn't seem to stop. Sweat dripped down between her breasts and her hair was stuck to her back. Draco's upwards thrusts were coming harder, without any real rhythm. They both panted. And then his entire body went rigid as he whispered, "Hermione," like her name was a prayer.
Yes, that all led to a nice four hour nap on the couch, because now she really couldn't move, before his wand sounded an alarm at 1:30. They floo'ed to the Ministry, where they were handed a badly dented pewter goblet. Moments later, they stood in the middle of nowhere; the night sky to the East ablaze with firelight. Dragon fire.
Hermione had never been in a desert before. Even now, when it was nearing the coolest hour of a day, she could still feel the remnants of heat radiating up from the sand under her. The air around her smelled of dust and sulfur. The portkey arrival/departure sight was under an open-side tent at the edge of a small oasis. There were two platforms, one for each direction of travel and three employees working. One wizard to check in departures and hand them their appropriately charmed object, one who was taking the used portkeys from the arrivals and reading through a list of future departures to recycle the items as needed using the Portus Charm, and a final witch with whom Draco began to converse as Hermione was assessing their surroundings.
Hermione was wearing a vintage 1960's royal purple sleeveless sundress with a square neck and a skirt falling just above her knees. At Draco's suggestion, she wore easily transfigurable shoes – trainers for walking around the sand, changed to kitten heels once in the grandstand. And to top it all off, a fabulous hat. The base of the hat comprised of three layers of sheer white material with purple feathers printed on it. Each layer was created by stretching the material over a metal hoop measuring approximately a half meter in diameter, with the bases of the feathers all in the middle of the circle and the tips radiating out to the edges of the circles. The three flat layers were loosely stacked on top of each other. Coming out of the center of the hat was a full bouquet of feathers; there were ring-necked pheasant feathers, gyrfalcon feathers, wild turkey feathers, and Hermione's favorite, snowy-owl feathers. They were all wing feathers, some as long as a meter. The feathers were all dyed various shades of purple and orange. You could still see the natural striations of each feather through the dye, and with the different types of birds and mixed lengths, the overall effect was stunning.
Draco presented the credentials Astoria Greengrass owled him to the welcome witch, and she in turn gave him directions on where they would need to go. Although Draco had come here before to watch races, the all-access passes he and Hermione would enjoy today were a first for him. He was looking forward to spending a little bit of time behind the scenes both before and after the races. Draco was the one to introduce Astoria to the sport of dragon racing.
As a student, Astoria's favorite class at Hogwarts happened to be Care of Magical Creatures. Astoria once told Draco she secretly started to admire Hermione Granger that infamous day when Draco found himself with a broken nose because of what he said about Hagrid. Astoria's parents raised her to be a perfect pureblood housewife. Draco's parents been raised him to believe he wanted, no needed, a perfect pureblood wife. Thank Merlin they both realized in time it wasn't what either of them wanted.
The first time they visited the desert together to watch dragons fly across the sky as the sun rose, Draco was trying to impress his new girlfriend. In his typical smug manner, he showed off what money and influence could buy a wizard – the best seats at the only dragon races in the world. These legal races, just introduced the prior month, were the culmination of over three years of work within ICW to come to an agreement and iron out all of the little details after a proposal from an international group of investors. The influential wizards and witches around them, the freely flowing champagne and firewhiskey, the caviar and foie gras and wagyu beef; Astoria ignored it all. They could have been standing alone in the sand drinking tepid water and eating a chicken sandwich for all Astoria cared. She stared at the dragons with her mouth agape the entire time, not uttering a word to anyone.
Afterwards she told Draco that the only other time she had seen a dragon was at the Tri-Wizard Tournament. And then she begged to go back again.
The next time was similar to the first, except she actually drank some of the champagne. The third time, she deigned to speak to Draco, pointing out differences in the ways the jockeys handled their dragons. The fourth time, she didn't shut up the entire time, critiquing the riders. On the fifth, sixth, and seventh times, she started to get to know other people in the VIP section. By the eighth time, she gained a contact who knew one of the owners and would set it up so she could meet a jockey or two, and see the winning dragon as well, after the race.
It would be a great disservice to compare dragon jockeys to racehorse jockeys. You didn't need to be small and light, but not all of the jockeys were burly men either. It came down to your affinity for dragons. When they met their first jockey, the wizard explained that there are very few witches or wizards in the world who can truly speak to dragons. It is an uncommon ability to be able to meld a small piece of their magic to the magic of the dragon, allowing the person and beast to communicate through a temporary bond.
When the first dragon they met sat on her haunches, the tip of its tail swishing back and forth like a cat's, and stared Astoria straight in the eye, there was a series of gasps from those around them. The owner showing them around told Astoria that the dragon was recognizing her as a witch who could bond with dragons. He asked her on the spot if she would be interested in training to work with them in some capacity.
Even before Astoria's obsession took hold, Draco realized she wasn't the one for him. He didn't dislike her; she was a sweet witch. However, besides her knowledge of a few different creatures, she was kind of an airhead. Draco tried not to show his boredom when he was parading around such a sought-after beauty on his arm. When she decided to run away to join the circus also known as professional dragon racing, well, that was the nail in the coffin of their relationship. Up until the day she left, they managed to keep up a façade of a relationship to protect her, and no one else knew where she was going until it was too late. She was convinced her parents would attempt to force her to marry someone else. To this day, Astoria insisted that Draco was her savior.
Hermione wasn't sure how she felt about Draco taking her to see the woman he was supposed to have married. He was nonchalant about his past relationship with Astoria Greengrass, referring to it as "dating". She knew he had, in fact, severed a marriage contract. Granted, it was one he negotiated on his own behalf, rather than the completely outdated version where parents created non-consenting betrothals, sometimes at birth. What Draco did was the wizarding world's equivalent of a prenuptial agreement. Hermione herself had a broken engagement in her past, and Draco was on civil terms with her ex. She was sure she didn't have a leg to stand on.
Hermione didn't remember Astoria at all from Hogwarts. Unlike some of her friends, Hermione didn't tend to read the society pages (aka the gossip section) of The Prophet. Which meant the curly haired witch could only admit to seeing a single picture of Astoria in the past. It became front page news, sadly, when "The Malfoy heir was left high and dry". Now that Hermione was friends with Daphne, she'd heard some tales about the little sister who escaped marriage on the back of a dragon.
It wasn't like Astoria escaped goblins during a bank robbery on the back of a dragon or anything. But, whatever. Hermione straightened her back in preparation as they entered something called a staging tent. They barely made their way through the doorway when a blur came running towards them and flung itself into Draco's arms.
Draco laughed at the woman who nearly bowled him over. She looked good. Her long dark hair was woven into twin Dutch braids to keep it securely out of her face. While hugging her, he couldn't help noticing how fit she was. She was wearing all leather - a snug vest on top, fitted trousers, and knee high boots over them. When she stepped back, he noticed her skin was very tan, but that wasn't all he noticed. There were scars from her time with the dragons. A small one on her left cheek, a large one from being burnt which ran nearly the entire length of her right clavicle, her left forearm appeared to be missing a couple of knut-sized chunks, and her hands would never pass as lady-like again. Nonetheless, she appeared to be indescribably happy.
He turned to Hermione, "I'd like you to meet Astoria Greengrass. Astoria, this is Hermione Granger." Astoria rolled her eyes.
"Always so formal, Drake. As if I didn't know who she was." Astoria smiled at Hermione, "I'm sure you get this all of the time… You know you're one of my heroes, yeah? When you punched Drake while I was still a little firstie and I found out it was because you were defending Hagrid, well that was bloody brilliant! And then, you liberated a dragon and flew away on it!"
Hermione's brain was awhirl. Drake? And being someone's hero for sticking up for Hagrid? Did anyone else even remember the reason why she hit Drake? Unlikely. And only one other person Hermione knew had ever referred to the trio's flight on a dragon as a liberation before. And don't think Hermione didn't notice Drake's quick perusal of Astoria's body, even if it was probably chaste. How should she even respond to this little tornado of a woman?
"Did Drake," she arched an eyebrow at him, "ever tell you about the time when he and I were still little firsties and he tried to get Hagrid sacked because Hagrid wanted to illegally raise a dragon in his hut? Ron, Harry, and I were there for the hatching, as was Drake, hiding outside a window."
"No, he never shared that with me, but I've heard about it from Charlie."
Charlie? Astoria knew Charlie Weasley? What other Charlie could she be referring to in conjunction with Hagrid's dragon, Norbert? Or rather, Norberta. She was just about to ask further questions when Astoria broke into her chaotic thoughts,
"We better floo over to the starting zone. I'm the last jockey left here and I don't want my handlers to be getting worried about me. The floo here only connects to two places, the start line tent and the finish line tent. Same with the floos in both of those tents. You just need to say 'start', 'staging' or 'finish' to get around to where you need to be," she explained as she held out the pot of floo powder to them. Astoria went first, followed by Hermione, with Draco taking the rear.
Today's race featured four dragons. Astoria was riding an Antipodean Opaleye. There were also two Swedish Short-Snouts and a Common Welsh Green. All of them were kept far enough away from the other three so they couldn't start fights or catch each other with their flames. They were in pens surrounded by their handlers, and the Short-Snouts and the Green already had their jockeys nearby them as well. Astoria led Hermione and Draco towards the Opaleye.
He was the most beautiful dragon Draco had ever seen. Antipodean Opaleyes are the most docile of dragons, which Draco supposed could be the dictionary definition of a "relative term". He was standing fairly still, one leg nervously pawing at the ground in a lazy manner. There were torches lit around his enclosure, and the light they created bounced back off of his pearly scales. He looked like an enormous glowing apparition. His eyes were mesmerizing, every color of the spectrum staring back at Astoria as she made her way towards him. The dragon stopped scratching at the earth in front of him and cocked his head to the side. Astoria bowed her head at him. Draco knew they were communicating using their bond.
Hermione glanced at the Swedish Short-Snout closest to the tent when they exited it. A Short-Snout was the breed of dragon Cedric Diggory had faced in his first task. Hermione realized sadly that Cedric's visage was fuzzy in her mind. What she did remember was that dragon's agility. No wonder there were two of them racing here. Its silvery blue scales weren't easily discernable in the torch light. When it let out a small puff of flame, the vibrant blue color was astonishing.
Hermione watched Astoria link her mind with the Opaleye. It looked a bit like the dragon Hermione rode all of those years ago. Gringotts' goblins imprisoned the Ukrainian Ironbelly in the bank's depths for so long it had paled in color and was stunted in its growth. Now that she was seeing an Antipodean Opaleye up close, she knew there was a world of difference. Astoria turned to Draco and Hermione,
"This is as close as you are allowed to come. His wizard-given name is Fabian. However, his kind would never refer to him by that name. In my mind, his true name roughly translates to "Swiftness of the Wind". I told him about both of you. He finds it amusing that you are also a dragon, Draco," she smirked at her ex.
"And he wants me to ask you if saving your current dragon is as exciting as the first one?" Astoria asked Hermione, with a raised eyebrow.
"I… I don't think that I know… How does Fabian… Tell him… Uhhh…" Hermione never imagined she would be having such an embarrassing conversation with a dragon. What exactly did Astoria tell him? Why would Astoria be talking about such personal things with a dragon? How much did dragons understand about human thoughts and emotions? Did they learn about humans through the bond and the people they could communicate with? Did they end up only reflecting the minds of the handful of people they could talk to? Or, did dragons share some emotional traits with wizards? Surely their thoughts weren't anything humanoid in nature. She doubted that a dragon ever felt guilty. She knew they protected their young fiercely. And it appeared they may also have a sense of humor? How long had she been standing here staring into space thinking a hundred different thoughts about dragons?
"Tell Fabian that riding this dragon is much more exciting than the first one." Oh. My. God. Did Draco really just say that? Hermione wanted to run away and hide. Or die. Yes, death would be preferable to what was happening right now.
Fabian's tail batted the ground repeatedly and puffs of smoke came out of his snout.
"Fabian likes you Draco. He thinks you're funny," Astoria smiled.
And now Hermione knew she had officially seen everything worth seeing in the world. Dragons could laugh.
They arrived at the bottom of the grandstand and Draco paused to allow Hermione to transfigure her shoes. She held onto his muscular arm to keep her balance as the shoes changed from flats to small heels. She liked the simple style of clothing he had chosen to wear today - light khaki-colored trousers and a short-sleeved white linen button-down, his shoes and belt a medium brown leather. His aviator sunglasses were pushed up into his tousled hair, ready for when the sun came up. He looked so relaxed. They climbed the stairs to the top, where the VIP seating area resided.
He went to grab mimosas for them; she stopped him with a hand on his arm, and she turned to the attendant and asked if it would be possible to get a Bloody Mary instead? When she found that she could, she asked for it to be extra spicy and to contain a salad's worth of garnishes. Her drink arrived in a tall, celery salt rimmed glass, accompanied by pickled asparagus, a celery stalk, spicy pickled green beans, bleu cheese stuffed olives, cocktail onions, and a crispy slice of bacon. 'Breakfast of champions', she thought to herself with a smirk. She was savoring the unique flavor of the pickled asparagus when she heard,
"Hermione?!" Turning around she found Charlie Weasley looking at her quizzically.
"Charlie!" Hermione handed her drink to Draco and then went to hug one of her favorite Weasleys. He picked her up easily and gave her a swing around. Hermione tipped her head back, laughing at him, and almost lost her hat. She adjusted the hat and smoothed her dress when he set her back down.
Draco looked at Hermione's flushed cheeks and silly grin as she talked to the Weasley man. He tried to remember again how many Weasleys there were. Six? He hadn't met this one before. Draco knew he was one of the two oldest brothers. There was the other one (what was his name?), married to Fleur, whom he used to see around Gringotts from time to time; it now occurred to Draco it had been years since the last time he saw him there. Did he even work there anymore?
Draco momentarily zoned out, was drawn back in as Hermione moved next to him to take her drink as she said, "Draco, this is Charlie Weasley. Charlie, I don't know if you have ever met Draco Malfoy before?"
Charlie held out his hand and shook Draco's with a firm grip. Draco was taller than the redhead by three, maybe four, inches, although by the way the man's muscles rippled beneath his fitted shirt, it was obvious who would win in a fight.
"Hermione told me you're here as Astoria's guests. When Astoria first told me the story of how she came to be a jockey, I had a tough time believing it, Malfoy. Coincidentally, I started to hear more flattering stories about you from George, Ron, and Harry recently too. It's nice to meet you." Draco, who was often circumspect, found he strangely liked this wizard's bluntness.
"Charlie came over here to tell you all of this in an attempt to avoid telling me what he's doing here," Hermione teased, winding her arm around Draco's waist. Although she pulled Draco's hip as close to hers as she could while he avoided her large hat, Draco still got the distinct impression she was mildly flirting with the other man. Her head was tilted in an advantageous way, showing the side of her neck, her eyes were bright, and her mouth was quirked up. Draco found the situation amusing. He wondered what Charlie was thinking.
"Well, since I rarely make it home to England, and it isn't like you're hanging around the Burrow when I do, I guess you can be forgiven for not keeping up on my life." Charlie huffed a smidgeon dramatically, definitely teasing the witch back. Charlie's eye flicked Draco over and his grin incrementally widened. Did the ginger just check him out? Holy shite. With a glance Charlie had managed to gauge Draco's reaction to the flirting and… Maybe something else as well? Draco didn't imagine that, did he? This was one of the times in Draco's life where he thanked Salazar for his ability to keep a completely straight face. Before Draco could even process what maybe just happened, Charlie's attention was focused back on Hermione. Oh, this wizard was good - Draco realized he could take lessons from the man. The word 'interesting' popped into Draco's head. Draco realized it was the message he'd seen in Charlie's eyes. The exotic wizard found the blond wizard 'interesting'.
It had been years since Hermione last saw Charlie. Yet, here they were falling right back into their little dance of seemingly harmless flirting. Well, harmless up until their final interaction. The last time she saw him, she and Ron were still together, although Ron wasn't at George's flat that particular evening. Ron was out of town on an Auror mission, as was Harry.
Hermione found herself at a small gathering with a mixture of George and Charlie's friends, really only knowing Lee Jordan and Katie Bell at the beginning. By the end of the night, Oliver wood was promising to owl her, but she was mentally digressing now. She drank a couple of drinks during the party, choosing to not get past a nice buzz. Near the end of the evening, she found herself out on the secret back balcony, smoking a joint with George, while Charlie said goodbye to the last couple leaving. Charlie came out to join them, immediately pouted upon seeing Hermione smoking, and without a word, flipped George a Galleon from his pocket. George passed him the joint with a smirk, Charlie took a drag, blowing out the smoke with a smirk of his own.
The three of them giggled for the next hour out there, the men still continuing to drink firewhiskey, Hermione happy just to be stoned. Their conversation slowly took a turn from slightly suggestive to downright risqué. She was sitting in between them looking out over the alley, when in tandem they each placed a hand high up on her thighs. Hermione nearly hyperventilated over a situation which fell within the realm of years' worth of masturbation material for her. She had imagined various situations similar to this, starting just months after the war was over, when Charlie spent so much time at home. She didn't really regret her reaction of jumping up from them. She was engaged to their brother. That didn't mean she didn't fantasize about what could have happened.
Charlie returned to Romania days after the incident, and Hermione never heard anything from him or even about him. The next time she saw George at a Sunday family brunch two weeks later, he nearly acted as if nothing happened. He treated her the same as he had for years. Hermione had been nervous to go, and probably acted a bit weird to start. As the day passed on without so much as an awkward glance her way, she hadn't been quite sure what to think. She went inside to get dessert ready to take back outside to the table set up in the backyard, where everyone was waiting after the main meal. She was the only one in the kitchen. George walked in and asked, 'I heard you're looking for office space in Diagon Alley? If you need any help looking at properties, let me know.' He had glanced around making sure they were alone, moved right next to her, and quickly whispered, 'Are we ok?' She had looked up into an uncharacteristically worried face and answered truthfully, 'Yeah,' in a quiet voice before responding to his initial statement at normal volume, 'That would be great, George. I have an agent showing me some properties this week. I'll run any I like by you before making a final decision, since you know the area.' 'Let me help you carry this out,' he said with his usual smile, picking up a platter of cookies, while she grabbed the cake. And that was it.
"I manage this facility on behalf of its investors," Charlie surprised both Draco and Hermione with his declaration. "I wasn't happy at the reserve anymore. I believed in what we did there…" he paused as if to gather his thoughts, "I felt that rather than being reactive to dragons in need, I wanted to work in something more proactive. Illegal dragon breeding and racing were two of the three main reasons why dragons needed to be rescued. Habitat encroachment being the other. Working here, I can make a difference by seeing how dragons raised in captivity are treated before it becomes an issue. While getting to know the breeders over the years, I've gained their trust enough to help weed out some of the shady ones."
Charlie stopped speaking for a moment to grab a sparkling water off the table just a few feet behind him. Draco's eyes flicked down the wizard's backside, noting the way dragonhide pants could really show off someone's assets. Hermione took a sip of her drink and murmured, "Yum." Draco was pretty sure she wasn't talking about the Bloody Mary. Blood started to travel south as Draco flashed back to what he and Hermione had been doing in his flat a mere 8 hours ago.
Hermione watched Draco quickly down his mimosa; he shifted away from her to set down the empty glass, and slid his hands into his pockets. "Do you still have opportunities to work hands-on with the dragons?" he asked as Charlie faced them again.
"Yes, when new competitors shift from their owner's training areas to here. On average, that means about once a week. We don't have set line-ups, dragons tend to be too temperamental to actually schedule them for races. As long as we have three dragons, we can race. The most we will allow is seven. My help isn't required when competitors return home, they're more… docile… for that move." Draco was genuinely interested in what Charlie was telling him.
He had heard from a reliable source that the racetrack investors were considering a second venture to be built in either Mongolia or Eastern Russia. Draco was thinking about investing in a dragon. One that could be raced for a few of years and then studded out for breeding. He thought of it as a gentleman's venture. Between Astoria, and now Charlie, he should be able to get reliable advice and have an in. He got the sense he wouldn't be able to tempt Charlie away from his current endeavor; pragmatically it occurred to Draco that it would be better to know probably the most trusted employee within the enterprise.
"It's a perfect mix for me. I'm not a fool; I was already one of the oldest tamers on the reserve when I quit. Being forced to spend the rest of my life behind a desk would kill me, though," Charlie continued. "Don't get me wrong, I have a desk. I just try to limit myself to less than three hours a day sitting at it."
Being a titan of industry gave Draco a metaphorical hard-on, but he was now focused enough on business to forget his earlier discomfiture. He smoothly pulled one of his business cards out and handed it the wizard. "If you are permitted by your employers to take on consulting roles, I would happily compensate you for your time in assisting me with an idea I have. If not, at least let me take you out to dinner and pick your brain for names of people I could trust to advise me."
Charlie took the card, "I'll contact you this week to set up dinner." He looked around, the room had filled up while they spoke. "I have other people I should greet. Will you save me a seat next to you for the race?"
"Of course," Hermione agreed.
Draco directed her towards the tables of food where they both filled up plates. As they moved to sit in seats near the back and off-center, an attendant inquired if they would like another drink. Hermione requested another Bloody Mary, while Draco stuck with a mimosa. Draco filled in Hermione on his thoughts on dragon ownership as they enjoyed the fare. Hermione shrugged and wished him luck. Although she was still passionate about the treatment and rights of magical creatures, Hermione didn't see the allure of owning a race dragon. Even as an investment opportunity. She knew Draco well enough to not worry about the venture being anything besides ethical.
Charlie came and sat next to Hermione, with Draco on the other side of her, just as a projection appeared in front of the stands, slightly below where they were seated, yet still large enough to be clear to them. It showed the four dragons lining up at the starting line, riders on their backs, and a single handler on the ground for each dragon holding a magical muzzle on a leash. It reminded Hermione of going to a Muggle concert and being far enough away that you would watch the band up on a screen, rather than looking at the stage. She would bet whomever designed this had exactly that experience in mind, however this screen was conjured temporarily; it hadn't been there a minute before the live feed began.
Draco was leaning forward in excitement, with his elbows on his knees. Charlie slung an arm around her shoulders and subtly angled his body towards hers. "The screen will only be there until the dragons are in the air. You will be able to see them on the edge of the horizon within a minute of the race's start. The screen will reappear again just before the end of the race, with the image trained on the finish line. The two most dangerous times in these races for the humans are moments before take-off, and after the finish, up until all dragons are again secured.
"When the trainers drop the leashes just before the start, the muzzles disappear. Dragons have been known to choose to fight each other on the ground, taking out their competitive aggression, before taking flight. We also have dragons who react violently to the results of the race. Just as with wizards, you see dragons who win and want to rub it in, in addition to sore losers. We also have now had two instances where winning male dragons wanted to show their dominance in a more sexual way and another time, one female champion whose endorphin-high mimicked being in heat, causing all three of the males she had beat to fight over the right to mount her. Getting in the way of dragons fucking is a sure way to get killed."
"What do you do in those situations?"
"Apparate to a safe distance until it's over," he responded dryly.
"Do the riders stay linked to them through everything, trying to talk them down?"
"For the run of the mill fights? Yeah. For mating? No. Would you want someone in your mind during a shag?"
Draco chose that moment to snort and look over at them. He opened his mouth to say something, probably snarky, when an announcer spoke up.
"Welcome witches and wizards to today's competition!" He went on to introduce the dragons, mentioning the respective beast's owner's names in tandem, and their jockeys. His demeanor reminded Hermione a bit of going to a Quidditch match. In a perfectly pitched, friendly voice, the wizard threw out little educational snippets about each dragon breed, told anecdotes about the riders, and let first-time attendees know what to expect. He wasn't quite as graphic as Charlie, while he did still allude to the implied danger inherent in this sport.
Draco perked up when he heard the dragon owners' names mentioned. He had not been to these races in a couple of years, but he noticed there was still not any advertising present anywhere. He was impressed that the group of investors who owned all of this either made plenty of money off of the spectators, or owned sufficiently deep pockets, allowing them not to care - either way leaving them completely self-sufficient. The only names really reaching this crowd were the investors themselves and the dragon owners. The name exposure would just be a bonus on top of the money he hoped to make from his plan.
He leaned back in his chair and grabbed Hermione's hand, holding it atop her thigh. Charlie didn't move his arm. Draco could not figure this man out. Maybe he really just had no personal space. Astoria was the same way. Could it be related to their unique brand of magic? Did it somehow make you slightly more like a dragon in some way? What an interesting theory. Draco wondered if anyone had ever studied it.
'Oh, Merlin's saggy arse', he bemoaned in his head, imagining what Hermione would say if he asked Charlie about the research possibilities.
There were times Draco was sure he was almost as big of a swot as Hermione. The difference between the two laid in Draco having the sense to not open his mouth and expound on every idea that occurred to him. Wait, what if she also had a similar same sense? What if, like him, she only voiced a small fraction of her thoughts? How much went on in her head at any given time?
Right then, Hermione did not have much of anything going on in her head. She was focused on the sound of her heartbeat in her ears. She came out of her little moment of shock, induced by the amount of male surrounding her, only because she realized people were starting to yell and stand up around her. Draco gave her hand a squeeze, then winked at her as she looked to him, when she stood up a little slower than others around them.
On the magic screen in front of them she saw the handlers release their ropes and step back. All four dragons crouched. Hermione saw Astoria touch her flying goggles one last time, probably a nervous habit bred of wanting to make sure they were secure. There was a loud gong and the dragons were all air-bound. It coincided with the first sliver of the new morning's sun breaking the horizon. Hermione couldn't help the gasp from escaping her lips.
The magical video relay of the beasts lasted almost no time at all. When the screen blinked out, the crowd as a whole turned their heads to the left, catching sight of the miniscule figures on the horizon, heading for them. The dragons would fly directly in front of the stands, as they made their way across the sky. The finish line was just beyond their view on the horizon to their right. From start to finish, it would last only about 10 minutes.
When they were first ascending, the two Short-Snouts shot flames towards each other. Otherwise, no other dragon-fire occurred as the dragons seemed to put all of their energy into flying aerodynamically and quickly. Draco knew on an intellectual level there were differences between the four jockeys in the way they held themselves and directed their dragons. Hell if he could see it. He could just make out four human forms lying prone on the backs of four sleek dragons. The dark-scaled Common Welsh Green stood out against the other three with their much lighter colored scales. It was also the dragon in the lead at the half-way point as they passed in front of the spectators.
Hermione would later swear to Draco that the air felt slighter hotter as the beasts flew by. Like the naturally raised temperature of the breath expelled by four dragons was enough to be felt. Maybe it was. They created their own wind as they went by, wings beating firmly. Hermione could feel the thumping vibrations created by their wings run up her spine. Hermione's hat was caught by a gust, and when it flew off her head, Charlie was the one who snagged it, quick as lightening.
Harry once told Draco a story about playing Quidditch in the fields behind the Burrow with the Weasleys. Usually they played three on three with Ginny and Harry the Seekers and the four brothers, minus Charlie, rotating positions. When Charlie was there, Ginny lost her position as Seeker and they would coax Fleur up to play to make it four on four. Harry had been a little in awe of Charlie's skill as a Seeker. Harry insisted that Charlie Weasley was a better Seeker than Victor Krum! Harry made up an obvious lie detailing how George liked to lay odds on the number of times Charlie could catch the snitch before Harry caught it once.
Draco didn't want to discount Charlie's fast reflexes, but he once again wondered if it was related to what Draco wanted to call "dragon magic". While these thoughts flitted through his head, he watched the other wizard carefully adjust Hermione's hat back onto her head for her. Draco turned back to the skies, wanting to see how the race ended.
The screen came back up, showing large as life what were now just specks in the sky. The Green still held the lead and managed to not give it up in the last minute. Astoria and Fabian came in second, with the two Short-Snouts once again snarling at each other as they came down towards the ground behind her. They were calmed as they landed, so no fight would be witnessed today. All of the dragons allowed themselves to be roped and led to their enclosures.
"Your passes allow you to go out to the finish line area, if you'd like. The dragons and their riders will all remain out there for about 30 minutes, cooling down. The winning dragon will be given a sheep to eat as his prize. Once he's finished, his jockey will fly him back here for the award presentation. The other jockeys will also make their way back via floo at the same time. There is a mix and mingle down on the ground at the end, I hope to see you there. For now, I'm off." Draco nodded to acknowledge Charlie's helpful information.
"We'll find you on the ground before we leave," Hermione assured Charlie. She wasn't sure she wanted to witness a dragon devouring a sheep, but if Draco really wanted to go to the finish line, she would also. She decided to voice this aloud.
"You can just avert your eyes," Draco reasoned with her.
"Yes, however, closing my eyes will not shut out the sounds or smells," she replied smartly.
"By the time we get out there, I bet there won't be any pieces of the sheep left."
"Right, because blood splattered all over the sand won't make it obvious what occurred."
"Yes, but the few minutes delay will negate your sound problem," Draco pointed out, grey eyes full of mirth.
"Oh, well, when you put it that way," she drawled.
"You just informed me that if I really wanted to go, you would follow me. Well, I do. So, let's go."
Hermione rolled her eyes at him.
"Rolling your eyes at me doesn't get you out of what you told me."
She rolled her eyes a second time as she followed him to the staging tent.
It wasn't as bad as she feared. There was a scorch mark on the ground from the dragon cooking its prize before eating it. There really wasn't much blood. And the overwhelming smell around them was just sulfur in general. The Green was looking rather smug, if Hermione was reading the situation correctly. From Charlie's stories, Hermione knew dragons understood that there was a definite winner, with the spoils going to the victor.
On the other hand, Astoria looked glum. There was no prize for second place in this race. She beckoned Draco and Hermione closer to her and Fabian than allowed pre-flight. Draco was idly wondering about how quick Astoria's reflexes may have been before she came here to work. He couldn't think of an instance that stood out to him. He was sure her current reaction time was honed by her circumstances. Maybe Daphne would know?
"We have about 15 more minutes here, staying linked with our partners. In addition to me, one handler is also linked up to Fabian. The three of us were just discussing going home today. Fabian has been here for two weeks and is feeling frustrated - he hasn't won a single race in that time. The last time we were here, he won 3 out of 5. We might go home and work on a few different techniques we have seen lately."
"Then I'm glad we got to see you before you weren't here to race. We ran into Charlie Weasley in the grandstand; actually I should say Hermione introduced me to him. Neither of us had any idea he worked here," Draco raised an eyebrow in a silent question.
"Oh yes, I thought the surprise would be more fun."
"Hmph," was all the response Draco could muster.
Hermione decided now was a good time to ask some questions she had thought of. "How do you learn to communicate with a dragon? Is it just one dragon you can talk to, or some, or all? Do you have better rapport with some than others? Can you talk to more than one at the same time?" She said all of these in one breath and felt quite silly when she took a big gulp of air.
Astoria laughed, "Wow. You don't mess around do you? Well, the linking is always led by a dragon. Something in them allows the recognition of a witch or wizard containing the correct magic. It takes months of meditation for the person to access that piece of magic the first time. I have been told it is similar to Animagus training, although I have never tried that particular magic before."
Hermione let out an, "Oh!" as if she was going to interrupt; a stern look from Draco drew her lips tightly back together.
"It is different for each of us, though in general, we can communicate with any of the dragons to some degree. However, we tend to fit better with some than others. I think it is due in part to our personalities. Charlie is one of the few I have seen who can instantly communicate easily with any dragon. I think it is because he is so easy-going. Beatrice, Fabian's owner, once told me it is because Charlie's magical core is amazingly strong," Astoria shrugged at that last bit, evidently dismissing the theory. Draco wasn't sure if it was because she doubted the theory itself or if she doubted Charlie's magic. Draco really couldn't stop thinking about the research possibilities presenting themselves.
"As for linking with more than one dragon at once, no, that is not possible. The dragons can chose to link to more than one human at once. That doesn't mean the humans are linked to each other," Astoria glanced over at the wizard standing next to Fabian, "So I can't hear what is going on inside Brett's head. Thank the gods."
Brett smirked, "It's more than is going on in yours, I bet."
Astoria looked at Fabian and started to giggle. Then she turned back to Brett with a smirk of her own, "You should probably guard your thoughts better next time we're both linked together. Fabian has no shame in sharing what you are thinking." Brett blushed.
"Come, we can go back to the staging area. Brett can finish up here for me," Astoria said as she wove her arm through Hermione's and started to lead her back to the floo. Hermione looked back over her shoulder to Draco in a bit of confusion at this seemingly friendly gesture.
Once they walked over to the presentation area on the field for the meet and greet, Draco and Hermione quickly found themselves alone without Astoria. She was pulled aside to meet other witches and wizards. Hermione noticed that with the larger crowd around, the one dragon present had an increased number of handlers with him. It appeared all four of them were linked up with the Common Welsh Green. None of the crowd could get closer than a fence set up about 50 meters from the beast, yet they still weren't taking any chances.
The sun was now climbing into the sky far enough to begin giving off heat. Hermione pulled her wand out of her thigh holster and cast a cooling charm on herself, as well as Draco.
"Thanks."
"How about we find both Astoria and Charlie to say good-bye before we leave?" she asked, as she slid her wand away.
The walked over to where Astoria was chatting with an elderly couple and Draco caught her eye. She excused herself when she was able to politely break off her conversation. She hugged Draco and whispered something in his ear, to which he blushed. Then she turned to Hermione and hugged her as well. Draco watched as she whispered something to Hermione which caused a slight frown to appear on the witch's face. Hermione turned to Draco and the frown turned into a brilliant smile. She reached for his hand and led him towards Charlie Weasley.
Charlie walked them away from the crowd so they could have a word in private. Draco cast a wandless Muffliato. "I just want to be clear on what we will be discussing at dinner this week. It's no secret that you took your family company from near bankruptcy to a multi-national success. If you plan to start up something that is in anyway a competition with this establishment, I can not be a part of it. If, however, you are planning something else dragon-related, then I would be delighted to consult," Charlie said.
Yes, Draco could see himself enjoying spending time with the blunt wizard. "Well, then I guess we are still on for dinner this week," he drawled. Charlie smiled as he held out his hand to Draco.
Charlie turned and swept Hermione up into a very tight hug. He pulled back slightly, lingering within her personal space, with his hands holding her shoulders. "It really has been too long, love. If I am to be working with Malfoy, hopefully I will see more of you?"
Hermione couldn't believe how brazen he was being. She glanced at Draco who was giving her an appraising look. She kept eye contact with Draco as she replied to Charlie, "Yes, I'd like that."
Draco couldn't seem to get home fast enough. He'd been half hard since witnessing the innuendo between Charlie and Hermione. Damn portkey line to get out of the blasted desert. Bloody customs wizard at the Ministry making sure they hadn't tried to smuggle in anything dragon-related. Then another long line of idiots at the Ministry floos. And Hermione wasn't making it any easier on him. He could feel the tension radiating off of her. He purposefully was not looking at her flushed cheeks, parted lips, or wide eyes. When they finally stepped out of the floo in his flat, she barely took the time to take off her hat and toss it on a chair before she ran towards his bedroom, calling over her shoulder, "Where's that toy from last night?"
A/N: So? Do y'all love this chapter too? Everything with the dragons is just so vivid in my imagination. Hope you could see the pictures I was trying to paint. And how about Charlie? Yum! Should I do a follow up chapter for when he visits England? Please leave a review with your thoughts for me!
Also, please be forewarned that you will not see any updates from me for the next two weeks. I will be busy partying like a rock star in honor of my birthday next weekend. My husband and I are spending five days in Southern California without our kids!