"A Harmless Dragon (Or So They Thought)"
"Then what are we going to do with you? I'll have to tell Mum," Harry said, looking at Red with a serious expression. The dragon, behaving with almost ridiculous sweetness, lay sprawled on the floor, staring up at him as if he were being scolded for some unforgivable crime.
"What if we just leave him? After all, he's technically not a real dragon but an advanced transfiguration by your mother," Draco suggested, watching the red dragon with a hint of fondness.
Harry glanced at him, then looked back at Red, who seemed to realize he had a chance to avoid going home—where he would surely be punished—and began acting even more submissive. He rolled onto his back, exposing his belly while his tail gave a hopeful little wag.
Harry held his serious expression for a few more seconds but couldn't maintain it in front of his silly pet. At last, he let out a resigned sigh.
"Fine, but we'd better tell Professor Flitwick. If he agrees, we'll let him stay. After all, Red isn't exactly… well-behaved."
Hearing that, Red immediately stood up, flapping his wings with joy and wagging his tail from side to side like an oversized dog. The sight drew a quiet laugh from Harry.
"Come on. I don't want to get in trouble for hiding a dragon, even if he's a fake," he said, starting to walk toward the door, Draco following close behind, curious to see what would happen.
When they descended the stairs from the dormitory, everyone in the common room stared wide-eyed as they appeared with that creature—four legs, two clearly separate wings on its back. It looked nothing like the dragons some had seen in illustrations, which usually had their front legs fused with their wings.
"He's not a real dragon, he's a transfiguration!" Harry blurted out, feeling all the stares pressing down on him. "I'm going to speak with Professor Flitwick so he can decide whether he's allowed to stay."
The others nodded silently, though their eyes glimmered more with the interest of someone wondering how to dissect it than with awe or fear.
Just then, Hermione came down the stairs and stopped, staring in disbelief.
"Red?" she asked, confused, before lifting her gaze to Harry, one eyebrow arched.
But Harry, anticipating the lecture, answered at once:
"He snuck into Draco's trunk. He probably knew if he tried to hide in mine—or yours—he'd be discovered right away."
"We're going to tell Professor Flitwick. If he says no, I'll just send him back home."
"I see. Then I'll come with you," Hermione said, nodding seriously. "I'll let Daphne know."
She climbed back upstairs while the two boys waited. It didn't take long: in just a few minutes, Hermione and Daphne came hurrying down, pulling their robes over their nightclothes.
As they stepped out, they asked for directions to Flitwick's office, and Penelope, who happened to be passing by, offered to guide them.
"But if you go out now, you could get detention. Curfew is about to start," she warned them sternly.
Even so, the five students—and the dragon—began walking through the now-empty corridors, while Harry could feel the eyes of all the portraits following them intently.
"What's wrong?" Penelope asked, noticing the way he frowned.
"At least the surveillance cameras aren't as noisy," Harry muttered, casting an accusing look at the portraits.
"Cameras?" Penelope repeated, puzzled.
"Nothing," Harry replied calmly, while Hermione and Draco struggled not to laugh; both understood exactly what he meant. Life in the Muggle world had taught them to be suspicious of anything that watched them—magical or not.
After a few minutes of walking and passing a couple of prefects who froze at the sight of the dragon, they finally reached Flitwick's office. The professor usually stayed there until the exact time of curfew, in case any prefects needed assistance.
Harry took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
"Come in," Flitwick's voice called from inside.
Penelope stepped in first, followed by the others.
"Oh, Penelope. Is something the—" His sentence trailed off as he looked up and saw the red dragon peeking out from between the students. His eyes grew so wide that, in his surprise, he lost his balance and toppled backwards off the stack of thick books he used as a chair.
Penelope rushed over to him, concerned.
"Professor, are you all right?"
"Ahem… yes… yes, I'm fine." Flitwick straightened with as much dignity as he could muster, though his voice sounded slightly shaky. "But… why is there a dragon here?" he demanded, his face serious as he looked them all over.
"Sorry, Professor. This is my… my pet. He's not a real dragon. He's a transfiguration my mother did for me when I was four. Apparently, he sneaked into our luggage," Harry explained in detail, trying hard to sound perfectly reasonable.
"A transfiguration?" Flitwick repeated, leaning in cautiously as he examined Red. The dragon, about the size of a large dog, held his head high with an air of wounded dignity. His legs and wings, clearly separate, didn't resemble any known species.
"Is it all right if I touch him?" the professor asked, raising his wand a little defensively.
"Of course. Red is quite friendly," Harry assured him calmly.
"Nothing but a walking disaster," Daphne muttered under her breath, making Hermione cover her mouth to stifle a laugh. Luckily, Flitwick didn't hear.
Carefully, the professor set a hand on Red's side, then felt along his chest and wings.
"Hmm… He really doesn't have a pulse. And I can sense magic flowing through his entire body… though it's a rather unusual magic. And certainly, his wings are… different," he mused with professional curiosity.
Red, growing annoyed at being prodded like a piece of furniture, gave one of his wings an abrupt flick, knocking the professor flat onto his back with a dull thud. Without missing a beat, Red sat proudly on his stomach, puffing out his chest as if he'd just conquered a kingdom.
"Puff…" Flitwick sighed, staring at the ceiling in resignation as he felt the weight pressing him down.
"No, Red! Bad boy—get off him right now," Harry scolded, pointing a finger sternly.
Red hopped up at once and trotted over to his young master, wagging his tail with innocent enthusiasm, as if nothing had happened at all.
"Professor, are you all right?" Penelope asked again, this time with a barely concealed sparkle of amusement in her eyes. The others clamped their hands over their mouths to keep from laughing.
"Ahem… yes… I'm fine…" Flitwick said, getting to his feet with wounded dignity as he brushed off his robes.
"But, just to be safe, I think we should take him to Hagrid so he can examine him. Even if he's a transfiguration, we need to be sure he won't pose any danger to the other students."
His tone was no longer one of stern prohibition but of cautious reason, making it clear that if everything went well, Red might be allowed to stay.
After that, with the professor taking the lead while Penelope returned to Ravenclaw Tower, they headed out of the castle toward the small cabin not far away. Flitwick seemed eager to hurry, not wanting to keep the young students outside for too long.
After knocking on the door, Hagrid opened it and stared at them with curiosity. His gaze first landed on Harry before widening considerably as he spotted Red.
"Blimey!" Hagrid exclaimed, hurrying out of his house as he examined the red dragon with great interest. "Is this a dragon?" he asked, a little confused but clearly delighted.
"It's a transfiguration, Hagrid. We're here so you can check if he could be a danger to the students," Flitwick explained quickly.
"It's incredible… so beautiful," Hagrid said, bending down to start touching the dragon without bothering to ask permission.
"Hagrid, please focus. Check whether he poses any danger to the students," the professor insisted, seeing that the half-giant was already getting distracted admiring Red.
"Ah—right, of course. His teeth first," Hagrid murmured before taking hold of Red's jaw and opening his mouth. He studied the row of teeth closely. "They don't look very sharp," he remarked at once, then proceeded to examine his claws, wings, and even lifted his tail.
The red dragon, visibly annoyed by all the prodding, was just about to bite Hagrid's backside. But Harry reacted quickly, using his telekinesis to grab the nearest object, and a dull clatter rang out.
"What was that?" Flitwick asked, frowning.
At that moment, a large dog bounded out of Hagrid's hut and disappeared at a sprint.
"Probably Fang," Hagrid said distractedly, while Harry took the opportunity to fling a metal pan aside—the one bearing Red's bite marks. After all, dragon teeth don't need to look sharp to pierce anything.
"He doesn't seem like he could harm the students… unless he can breathe fire," Hagrid continued, studying Red with renewed curiosity.
"He only spits sparks," Hermione interjected quickly. "Watch. Red, breathe fire."
Red gave her an offended look but finally opened his mouth. A few colorful sparks drifted out and landed harmlessly on Hagrid—even when they fell right onto his beard.
"He doesn't seem dangerous, Professor," Hagrid said calmly. "Even though he looks like a dragon, his legs and wings make him more like a red trasteal with scales… and a bit smaller." He smiled with genuine enthusiasm. "He's so adorable." Without hesitation, he began stroking Red's head, utterly fascinated.
"I see… If that's the case, you may keep him as a pet, since technically he's a transfiguration, and you won't have to clean up after him," Flitwick said, nodding in understanding before looking at the students with a hint of fondness. "But he'd better behave. I'll inform the other professors and the headmaster."
"Thank you, Professor," Harry said quickly, relieved.
"Oh, and if you ever need someone to look after him, you can bring him here," Hagrid added with a smile. "I love dragons, even if they aren't real. He's just so charming..."
"Then… thank you, Mr. Hagrid," Harry replied politely.
"Oh, just call me Hagrid. I've actually known you for quite a long time," the half-giant admitted, unable to keep it to himself any longer.
"Yes, Sirius told me the story. Maybe someday I could hear your side," Harry said, looking at Hagrid steadily, as if he could see right through him. But with Hagrid, there wasn't much to uncover—everything was plain to see.
"Brilliant," Hagrid said happily, watching the little boy he'd once seen as nothing more than a baby.
"All right. Let's go back—it's already past curfew," Flitwick instructed, motioning for everyone to return to the castle.
…
POV Red
Foolish mortals.
If my young master wishes me to pose as a harmless toy, a mere decorative transfiguration, nothing could be easier. Pretending docility is among my countless superior skills. But oh… how delightful it is to watch them fawn over my presence, convinced I am just an experiment with no will of my own.
So be it. I shall grant them that false comfort.
—
It all began with that minor incident. The Scarlet Witch—my creator—discovered that her clothing had been… slightly destroyed during my routine inspection.
It wasn't my intention! I was merely searching for an intruder. I am certain an ethereal being of extreme danger was hiding among her robes. Perhaps a polymorph, an interdimensional spy, or a killer sponge. I couldn't risk it touching young Master Harry!
So I tore, shredded, and perforated every inch of fabric until I confirmed it was clean.
Did she thank me for my sacrifice? No! Her gaze blazed with cosmic fire, ready to reduce me to a puddle of ashes. I realized then that I needed to withdraw with strategic dignity.
That was when I devised my masterful escape. With unmatched cunning, I convinced the Creature Full of Madness—also known as "Dobby"—to transport me far away, to somewhere safe. I explained that I required refuge to prepare the next phase of global conquest.
The house-elf, trembling like contaminated jelly, agreed to help me in exchange for my promise not to eat him. Fool. I would never stoop so low as to consume something so… insubstantial.
Thus I arrived in the lair of the blond brat. A temporary hideout while the Scarlet Witch's hurricane subsided. From there, I could observe in silence and await the perfect moment to reunite with my young master.
—
Now, after this little excursion with the hairy half-giant who examined me like some decorative goat, all is in order. I pretended patience, endured his rough hands and condescending remarks. I even tolerated him lifting my tail.
What they don't realize is that every second, I memorized their features, their weak points, and their scent—just in case the day comes when I must subjugate them to the will of chaos.
But for now…
I will remain safe beside my young master. And when the time comes, when everyone believes I am nothing more than an innocent spark…
…then I shall fulfill my mission.