When they returned to the settlement near the reservation, Emilyn – Martin's wife – ran out to meet them with a heavy frown. She was taking care of cooking at the settlement, along with two other women.

"Don't you know when to return? We expected you three hours ago!" she growled at them angrily. She hated it when the food she prepared was left to get cold. Her face lost some of its angry expression when she noticed the thoughtful, satisfied or outright happy expressions on their faces.

"What happened?"

"Today was quite a funny day," replied Karl in his customary dry, unamused voice.

"Why?"

"Matt almost got himself killed by a Graphorn," he shrugged.

"What?!" Emilyn gasped looking the dragon-handler up and down. He seemed to be all right. "Are you hurt, Matt?"

"No, I'm fine."

"So what happened?"

"We caught that Green female, but the noise she made lured a Peruvian Vipertooth to us. She wanted us, not the Welsh. Then a third dragon came – a hybrid."

"Hybrid?" stammered Emilyn. "What species?"

"All of them."

Emilyn gaped at them soundlessly.

"I felt the same way, Em," Martin assured her.

"All species?"

"Yes, hybrid with a capital H," Charlie grinned happily.

"Oh… What about the Graphorn?"

"Matt got hit by the Vipertooth's tail – it threw him in its direction as it was closing in on us. He also lost his wand in that tumble."

Emilyn stared at Matt, wondering how on earth he could have survive that. Matt squirmed uncomfortably.

"Stop staring like that, Emilyn, I got enough of it today."

Charlie laughed. "The hybrid saved him, Emilyn."

"What?" she looked at him, confused. "A dragon?"

"Yeah, until then she was just sitting on a rock, watching us. One would think we and those two females were performing a theatre play just for her. When Matt got thrown away, she took off, and got to him at the same time as the ugly beast. She punched it away and burned it. Flame as a Swedish Short-Snout she had."

"She… ignored you?"

"Well, she didn't attack us. She returned back to the rock and when both dragons flew away, she pretended to be asleep."

"WHAT?!"

"Cunning little beastling," Charlie smiled.

"Emilyn, why's there such a rush inside?" Martin asked suddenly, watching the commotion in the kitchen through the window. There were four women running around inside, apparently busy. Their late arrival couldn't have caused such a fuss.

"I meant to tell you when you came!" exclaimed Emilyn. "Albus Dumbledore, the Hogwarts Headmaster, came along with the teachers Minerva McGonagall, Severus Snape and Pomona Sprout. Elwin invited Albus ages ago, you know they were classmates once. Snape and Sprout are here to gather herbs and potion ingredients and McGonagall's just tagging along I suppose. They'll be visiting for four or five days, and we'll be having the meals together in the dining room. I expect the living area will be quite busy these days, there's a lot to talk about. And you are one hour too late for dinner! We were waiting for you! Now hurry up and get clean and presentable straight away!" she glared at them with hands on her hips, having returned to her first point of concern.

Half an hour later they were all seated around a big table in the dining room, which was only used for special occasions. The leader of the reservation, an old and partially retired dragon-tamer named Elwin decided he wouldn't wait till the end of the meal to get a full day report out of the delayed group. He could tell there was something special about their outing the minute he saw the face of one of them. Now when he saw all of them with varying degrees of the same expression plastered across their faces, he was practically giddy with excitement.

Elwin was in charge of the reservation, although he was too old to actively participate in handling of the dragons anymore. Martin got the privilege of speaking, as he led the group and was the oldest and most experienced dragon-tamer.

The Hogwarts guests were mostly quiet during the tale, simply listening and eating. Severus Snape himself had yet to say anything past the usual introductions in the beginning. After the war with Voldemort he was much calmer and less bad-tempered then before. Three years free of the stress of having two masters have done their good.

His calm façade fell the moment he heard Martin mention the Graphorn. He stared at him as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"That dragon burnt a Graphorn? Hell! Their horns are extremely difficult to get by. I am after one for at least the past half-year and there is nothing on the market. Leave it to a blasted dragon to reduce their numbers even more than they already are."

"The Graphorn had no business in the reservation to begin with. He must have gotten there from beyond the border; they were never mentioned to be present in the area. That beast could have us killed in a minute. We couldn't divide our attention between two dragons, watching the third one for any sign of attacking us and looking out to it all at once," remarked Karl.

"She hasn't actually burnt the horns, Mr Snape," added Martin with a mischievous grin aimed at Elwin. "She had the flame width of a Welsh Green, although its colour and heat came probably from the Swedish Short-Snout. She burnt it all save part of its head and horns. Unfortunately, she took it with her when she left."

He leaned against the back of his chair and waited for Elwin to catch up. He told them the species of the first and second dragon, but kept quiet when it came to the species of the third. Everyone who was there with him was smirking; they knew he wanted to shock poor Elwin speechless. He was in love with all dragon hybrids, although in his life he managed to see only three of two-species ones live.

Elwin gasped when he realized what Martin said.

"It was a hybrid? Of Swedish Short-Snout and Welsh Green? Oh, my God, I never saw such a thing!" he exclaimed in awe. "What colour was it?"

Martin smirked. "Well, it was dark-green actually. The exact colour as a Romanian Longhorn, it even had the golden horns."

Elwin gaped.

"Th-three species?" he stuttered. "He was a three-species hybrid?"

"It was a female, Elwin, and no, it wasn't a three-species one. I think I still haven't described her, have I? Matt, would you do the honours? You met her more closely than any of us."

"Well," began Matt, inclining his head to Martin, with an exaggerated air of royalty thanking his subjects. Charlie let out a snicker. "She had signs – but you must not faint Elwin, we have guests, remember – she had signs of all the known species."

Everyone at the table, safe their little group and the Hogwarts visitors, gaped at them in various combinations of shock and disbelief. Elwin looked like he might just faint. Then he shook his head.

"Impossible," he muttered.

"Let me describe her. She was dark-green and had two golden horns on her head above swirling multi-coloured eyes missing the pupils. Hot, bright-blue flame. Bat-like wings. Long claws that nothing but Iron-Belly could match. She had horns on the end of her tail. A visible ridge on her back. Thin flame range and melodic roar. Poisonous teeth. And she could let out mushroom-shaped clouds of smoke in a bright-blue colour."

"Bloody hell," whispered someone.

"She was perfect. Just a bit too intelligent and she behaved stranger then other dragons. We are fairly sure she understood everything we said to her. Charlie was the first to piss her off, just being who he is. He told her to open that beak of hers, so we could see if she was venomous or not. She released the fire-clouds then."

"That could be expected," stated Snape as he stared at Charlie down his long nose. "Reckless Gryffindor even miles from Hogwarts, aren't you, Weasley?"

Charlie blushed, but raised his chin defiantly. "Well, if I had known she would have understood me, I wouldn't say 'beak'. Still, Wins was even better."

"What did you tell her, Wins?" Elwin looked at the man in question, still a little dazed.

"That the number of species she was built of must have addled her brains. She hissed at me and glared, her eyes swirled red and she sat up. Until then she was lying on the rock. She roared and we saw her poisonous fangs. Sharp greenish Vipertooth teeth she has."

"You mean that she was lying down while in your presence?" Elwin was frowning.

"Yes. When the other two dragons flew away, she was faking sleep. She had to lie down for it."

"Excuse me?" Elwin stared at him, most likely questioning his sanity.

"We told you she was intelligent," reminded him Matt. "Her behaviour was almost completely different from your stereotypical dragon. George thought she was faulty – that her genes couldn't handle the information stress and made her unable to feel uncontrolled anger, which made her tame in turn. She looked pretty offended when he said it out load."

"Curious," mumbled Elwin.

"I wonder what Annick'd say if she saw her," said Martin.

Emilyn yelped.

"Annick! I wanted to tell you this as well when you came. She sent an owl today. She's coming tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? She was to have another two weeks off, yet." Martin frowned.

"Well, yes. Apparently, she changed her mind."

"Hey, a moment, please. Who's this Annick you're talking about?" a confused Charlie cut in. "I never heard of anyone by that name."

"She specializes in dragons, too. She's only active for two years, though. During Voldemort's time she was in school. After he died, she apprenticed herself to one Master in the field. She was to come here two weeks from now. You wouldn't know her; she has a thing for staying under the radar, against all odds."

"I wonder what she'll say. I still don't know how she manages to find all those hybrids she took photos of already. She saw three two-species hybrids and one three-species already – all in the span of one year and a half! I haven't heard from her for five months, maybe she'll come with some new shot," said Elwin.

"Well, we'll see when she comes. Nothing else to do until then, with that stray Green taken care of. No new Urgents reported?"

"No," Elwin shook his head.

"Well, then. When will Annick come?"

"According to her letter it should be sometime before dinner. She said she wasn't quite sure, she had some work left to be completed yet."

"Work to be completed. During a vacation. Yes, that sounds like her all right," laughed Martin. "Another one all crazy about dragons."

"Say, is she sensible like me or insane like him?" Matt pointed at Charlie. They were best friends, and possibly the biggest fans of the winged fire-lizards in the whole reservation.

"I? Insane?" Charlie glared at him.

"Well, who got all over-excited then, when three dragons came this afternoon, while there were only twelve of us? I had at least enough tact to be appalled. You were all but jumping up and down in joy of seeing a hybrid."

"Well, she was beautiful! If she were aggressive, we would be done for, yeah. Those horns, flame and intelligence makes her the most dangerous dragon ever if you piss her off, But what a way to go!" Charlie said, grinning widely. Matt rolled his eyes.

"You seem to have a thing for dangerous females. Do you like Emilyn too, when she yells at us and threatens with her kitchen utensils? Besides, did you idiot even realize what would have happened if we all looked at her when you told us to? We would be as good as greaves by now," at this point, everyone except for Charlie was laughing.

Charlie shook his head adamantly. "We wouldn't."

"Wouldn't we?" retorted Matt challengingly.

"No, we wouldn't," Charlie confirmed his answer and winked at Elwin.

"And why do you think so, you senseless prat?"

"I prefer the term 'sensible man', thank you very much."

Matt snorted and frowned at his red-haired friend. "Prat. Answer."

"It is simple, Matt, really. Such a sensible man like you should see it," teased him Charlie. "That Vipertooth was hungry. She wouldn't have burned us if you paid her."

Matt stared at him for a moment. Then, suddenly, he exploded in loud laughter and fell off his chair, to the ground. There he lay, flailing in helpless laughter for a good while.

Snape frowned.

"Why does he find the notion of being eaten by a dragon funny?" he turned to Elwin.

"Oh, never mind these two. We don't try to understand them anymore. Although, I think Matt's still getting over the close calls with death he's had today. He tends to vent remaining tension in the most curious of ways. It's Charlie we don't quite get."

"I see," he nodded, watching the older Weasley cautiously. The redhead was smirking as he helped himself to the best pieces on Matt's plate. Matt was still on the floor, clutching his stomach and gasping for breath.

AN: Edited chapter. It was originally beta-ed by Blue Leah (who has my thanks) and needed less edits than the first one. Hopefully it will be the trend for the rest of them so I can have then all replaced soon, and turn my attention to following chapter and other stories, too. I'm dreadfully slow with updating, sorry!