While brandy wasn't something commonly found, the Hogwarts kitchens still had a bottle or two tucked away. Chicken blood, on the other hand, would take some effort to acquire.
Which meant Hagrid's errand was definitely going to take a while...
"Looks like Hagrid won't make it back in time. Wonder if he's going to cry."
"Eh? You mean…"
Draco's muttering happened to be overheard by Hermione, who was crouched beside him. With her sharp instincts and quick thinking, she immediately understood what he meant.
"It's about to hatch?"
"Exactly. Any second now. Keep your eyes on it—don't blink."
Both Draco and Hermione had their gazes fixed on the dragon egg, which now had thin cracks running along its shell.
Moments ago, they were practically hostage and captor. Now, just like that, they were huddled together awaiting the "birth" of a dragon. Ron, watching from a distance, looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel.
He probably felt completely betrayed...
"What should we do? Should we help it break the shell?"
"No. All we need to do is wait quietly. Breaking through the shell is important for the hatchling."
Just like with birds, the act of breaking out of the egg strengthens the baby dragon and helps ensure its survival. If the egg sac hasn't fully contracted yet, interfering could actually reduce its chances of living.
If someone clueless tried to help, they'd likely do more harm than good. So Draco immediately warned Hermione not to intervene.
As the two crouched together, focused entirely on the egg, Harry stood nearby with Ron, no longer able to suppress his own mounting curiosity.
If it weren't for Ron's sour mood, Harry would've joined them long ago.
"Ron... aren't you going to go take a look?"
"What's there to see? If you really want to see dragons, Harry, I can take you to visit Charlie during the holidays. He's doing research at a dragon reserve in Romania. You could stay as long as you like."
"..."
It sounded nice, but Harry wasn't tempted in the slightest.
Leaving aside which was more exciting, Harry knew full well he wouldn't be allowed to go anywhere over break. His relatives would never agree, and Romania was far too distant anyway...
Harry opened his mouth to say something, but seeing Ron's unreadable expression, he sighed and gave up.
Between dragon eggs and friendship, Harry chose his friend.
For someone like Harry, who'd endured neglect and mistreatment his whole life, friendship was a treasure—something sacred and impossible to give up.
And Ron was his very first friend.
First love... cough, firsts are always a little special...
...
You could clearly sense a divide within the hunting lodge.
On one side were Draco and Hermione, intently watching the dragon egg. On the other were Harry, looking helpless, and Ron, fuming with rage.
This strange tension lingered until something shifted—movement from the egg finally broke the silence.
"It's cracking! It's cracking!"
The moment a tiny claw poked through the shell, Hermione instinctively grabbed Draco's arm in excitement. She looked like she wanted to squeal but was too afraid of scaring the hatchling, which made the scene rather heartwarming.
"Yeah... judging by that strength, it should be able to break out on its own."
"Really? That's wonderful!"
Seeing those sturdy little claws push through the shell, Draco finally relaxed. Now all they had to do was wait for the baby dragon to emerge completely on its own strength.
That first claw was like a signal—soon after, the cracking sped up. Before long, they could see the baby dragon in full...
"Gah~"
Still wobbling slightly, the little creature took its first look at the world with curious, wide green eyes—staring straight at the two humans in front of it with their silly, awestruck expressions.
"So cute!"
Even though adult Norwegian Ridgebacks were dangerous, at this stage they were undeniably adorable—at least in Hermione's eyes.
"Cute? No, this is beauty! Raw, majestic beauty."
Draco corrected her with complete seriousness. In his mind, dragons weren't "cute"—they were powerful, awe-inspiring beings, equal parts strength and elegance.
"What? How is this not cute?"
Hermione's eyes sparkled with affection as she watched the hatchling sniff her fingers, then snort dismissively. The baby dragon's awkward antics made her burst into laughter.
As expected, even a sensible girl like Hermione couldn't resist something that adorable.
"Is he hungry? But Hagrid's not back yet."
"Probably. But just so you know—she's a female."
"Huh? How can you tell?"
"Intuition."
"..."
Hermione nearly socked him. How had she not noticed how annoying he could be?
But Draco wasn't just bluffing. The moment he laid eyes on the creature, he instinctively knew it was female. If Hermione hadn't asked, he might not have even realized how strange that knowledge was...
"What's going on... How can I be this sure?"
As Draco mulled it over, he suddenly felt someone tugging at his robe.
He looked down, expecting Hermione—but no, it was the little dragon. She was tugging at his cloak, her big eyes staring up at him with a pitiful look that clearly meant one thing: she wanted food.
"Gah-gah~"
"Looks like she's taken a liking to you. Maybe she thinks you're her dad... um..."
Hermione had started teasing him, but by the end of the sentence her face turned bright red. The realization struck—if Draco was the "dad," then that would make her...
She quickly averted her gaze, afraid he might have heard too much.
But Draco wasn't paying attention to any of that. Something else had caught him completely off guard—something unbelievable, yet exhilarating.
"You're... saying you're hungry?"
"Gah-gah!"
He had spoken to the dragonling—hesitantly at first—but when she responded, Draco's eyes went wide with shock.
He, Draco Malfoy, could understand dragon language.