"Of course it's Malfoy!"
Dylan glanced around at the few people nearby before retracting his gaze. "You haven't forgotten that Malfoy is going to report this to the professor, right?"
"But you've already put the dragon away," Hermione replied. "As long as they can't find it, the professor won't trust Malfoy's word, right?"
"That's true," Dylan admitted, "but we still have to make Malfoy believe we're trying to send the dragon away."
"Otherwise, if we act like nothing happened, Malfoy will be convinced we still have the dragon and keep causing us trouble," Hermione added.
Harry nodded vigorously. "Dylan's right—he's always looking for ways to stir things up."
"So what do we do?" Ron asked.
"It's simple," Dylan said with a smile. "You and Harry just pretend to have a chat where Malfoy can hear you. Mention that you're writing to your brother to arrange for the dragon to be taken away. That'll make Malfoy act."
"And we won't have to do anything," Dylan continued. "Even if Malfoy asks about it later, we deny everything. Deny the dragon's existence."
"Then when he goes snooping around Hagrid's hut and doesn't see Arnold, he'll assume we sent the dragon away," Hermione concluded.
Ron blinked. "So, do I still need to actually send the letter?"
"…"
Dylan, Hermione, and Harry all turned to him at once. "Of course not!"
Hermione sighed. "Dylan means you don't have to actually do anything."
"Oh. Got it," Ron said, nodding seriously.
Back in the dormitory, Dylan assigned Harry and Ron their parts in the plan. Then, alone in the room, he took the opportunity to explore the new ability he had acquired.
"Pet ability control…"
With his eyes half-closed, Dylan focused inward, his consciousness gently reaching out.
He quickly sensed a special power bound tightly to him—an imprint from his two pets. He concentrated on the black shadow resembling a lynx.
A chill seeped into his heart.
As he attempted to draw on the shadow's power, icy lines seemed to crawl through his veins and meridians.
He felt his body grow lighter, as though its weight was being pulled away. He raised his hand and saw it fading into shadow, dissolving into the darkness until his form blurred and merged with the shadows around him.
Coal Ball, who had been waiting for a cuddle, watched in wide-eyed surprise as his master turned into a patch of living shadow.
"Moo?" Coal Ball tilted his head, visibly confused.
But Dylan paid no attention to his pet's reaction. He was immersed in the incredible sensation the shadow power gave him.
He stood and approached the door but paused, glancing toward the window instead. He reached out to touch the bed.
His hand passed right through the mattress—no resistance, as if it wasn't even there.
"So… controlling a pet's ability drains my mental energy too?"
He noted the mental strain each time his hand crossed through solid matter.
Pulling back, his mind eased slightly. Even just maintaining the shadow form consumed energy.
Dylan released the shadow state and let out a breath.
He nodded to himself. "I can't use my pet's abilities recklessly."
It made sense—even the Philosopher's Stone wasn't infinite. For him to borrow magical abilities directly without magic was already remarkable.
But limits existed for a reason. If the power could be used without restriction, Dylan feared it might eventually erode his sense of self. He could forget he was human—begin to believe he was the black shadow or a dragon.
"Arnold is still just a baby dragon," he reminded himself. "We don't even know what abilities he really has yet."
Curious, Dylan focused his consciousness on Arnold next.
Suddenly, his body flared with intense heat, burning from the inside out.
"So hot!"
It felt like fire boiled in his chest, his throat and eyes itching with an overwhelming urge to release it.
He instinctively opened his mouth, expecting to breathe fire, wand at the ready.
But instead of flames, a thick cloud of black smoke poured out of his mouth.
"Hiccup~"
The burnt, acrid smell made him frown. He quickly stopped channeling Arnold's power. The heat vanished at once.
Surveying the dark fog before him, Dylan wrinkled his nose.
"Tornado!"
A fierce wind erupted from him, swirling in a tight cyclone. The gust swept the polluted air out through the window, scattering paper and small objects across the room.
Dylan didn't mind the mess. He was just glad the foul air was gone.
With a deep breath of the cool, fresh wind, his body relaxed. "That's better."
Then, casually flicking his wand: "Reparo!"
Magic surged from his wand and filled the dormitory. The papers halted midair, organizing themselves neatly onto the desk. Pens leapt into holders. Erasers rolled into drawers.
Within seconds, the room was back in perfect order.
"Even if I can't breathe fire yet, that dragon power… it felt unreal."
He remembered the sensation—untouchable, invincible. As if even Avada Kedavra wouldn't affect him.
But Dylan chuckled to himself. "Only a fool doesn't dodge."
Just because the dragon's power made him feel invulnerable didn't mean he'd start testing killing curses.
"Moo! Moo!"
Coal Ball leapt into his arms and mewed, still confused by what had happened.
Dylan scratched him behind the ears. "Guess we're both walking through walls now, huh?"
"Moo?"
Two days passed.
Dylan continued studying in the library and taking lessons from professors.
Then one afternoon during dinner, Harry and Ron rushed toward him.
"It's done!" Ron declared proudly, winking.
"Seriously?" Dylan asked.
Harry nodded excitedly. "It worked!"
"We were talking about the dragon near Malfoy," Ron whispered. "And he totally took the bait!"
"Acted like he wasn't listening, but it was so obvious," Harry added, snickering.
"When did you stage this conversation?" Dylan asked.
"Today," Ron answered. "When I saw Malfoy sneaking closer, I told Harry my brother would send someone to pick up the dragon today. Gave him the exact spot—edge of the Forbidden Forest!"
"Good," Dylan nodded. "Then we don't need to worry anymore. You can forget Arnold exists. I won't bring him out again."
Ron's face fell. "Not even secretly?"
"No," Dylan said firmly.
Privately owning a dragon was against the law. He had no intention of inviting the Ministry of Magic's attention.
Sure, he might know Unforgivable Curses and top-tier dark spells—but that didn't mean he wanted a cell in Azkaban.
Even if the Ministry forgave him for being a minor, it wasn't worth the risk.
His motto was simple: If something isn't explicitly banned, do it carefully. If it is banned—do it secretly.
"The bold die from overreaching," Dylan muttered. "The timid starve from playing safe."
Ron sighed. "That's depressing…"
Then he went back to his food.
Dylan didn't dwell on it. After dinner, he attended a private lesson with Professor McGonagall. Returning to his dorm late, he fell into bed.
This time, he didn't sleep with Coal Ball.
Since he'd placed the little pet in the pet space to keep Arnold company, Coal Ball didn't want to come back out.
Dylan was heartbroken, but resigned.
He clutched a pillow instead and drifted into sleep.
—
Meanwhile, under the moonlight…
A lone figure crept through the Hogwarts corridor, lantern in hand.
Malfoy.
He moved quietly, careful not to let his boots scrape against the stone floor.
"Tonight, I'll finally catch them red-handed!"
He grinned wickedly, imagining the look on Harry's face when caught.
The swinging lantern threw flickering shadows across the walls, reflecting his excitement.
Once he had proof of the dragon, Malfoy could force Harry to do whatever he wanted—or at least keep him under control.
He rounded a corner, picking up speed—
And stopped dead.
There stood Professor McGonagall, tall and severe under the pale moonlight, arms folded and eyes narrowed behind her spectacles.
"M-Professor McGonagall?"
She raised one hand and grabbed his ear sharply.
"Do you know what time it is? Sneaking out of your dormitory at night—how dare you!"
Her voice echoed down the corridor.
"And carrying a lantern, no less!"
Malfoy gulped. His night of reckoning had come… but not in the way he'd planned.
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