Night descended with profound darkness.
Within the tranquil Malfoy Manor, the distant, piercing cry of a golden eagle circled through the air above.
Lucius Malfoy reclined with elegant leisure against plush headboard pillows, fingertips caressing correspondence with practiced refinement.
[Please, Father.]
[For your adorable and devoted son.]
Across parchment pages, Draco Malfoy had deployed every conceivable flattering and coquettish technique. Lucius couldn't suppress the slight elevation of his eyebrows, thin lips curving into a distinctly pleased arc.
How long since he'd encountered such saccharine endearments? Through the letter, he seemed to glimpse his son's soft, cherubic features.
At that moment, Narcissa emerged from the bathroom, toweling her hair dry. Witnessing her typically stern husband being charmed into smiles by their son's correspondence struck her as rather endearing.
"What's the matter, Lucius?"
"Has little Dragon been complaining again?"
Her seemingly reproachful gaze overflowed with maternal warmth.
"No—he's been praying..." Lucius Malfoy's smile softened marginally as he brandished the letter with aristocratic pride:
"And I have granted his prayer."
This decision stemmed not merely from paternal indulgence, but from recognizing Draco's significant maturation as the Malfoy family's future heir.
Though seemingly trivial, successfully coordinating families like Shafiq, Bulstrode, and Parkinson demonstrated Draco's emerging prominence among pureblood heirs...
Particularly Bulstrode.
Their discretely methodical approach, unbroken succession of exceptional heirs, and extensively diversified yet substantial family enterprises inspired considerable envy among pureblood nobility.
Flowing water doesn't compete for primacy—it competes for perpetual motion.
This family rarely engaged in conflicts.
Members didn't even cohabitate. Under Fidelius Charm protection, even residential addresses remained supremely confidential.
They habitually bound interests through strategic marriages, dispersing family assets while gathering scattered grains into towering foundations.
Even Squib members were dispatched to Muggle society under disownment pretenses.
Even Voldemort could merely trim their branches—never grasping this family's essential core.
This represented genuine survival wisdom.
Lucius felt profound satisfaction.
Draco's ability to intersect with such families meant the Malfoy dynasty had secured additional escape routes...
"Very well, my revered divine lord." Narcissa settled beside the bed, tilting her head with eyes sparkling with mirth:
"We should retire. Tomorrow requires early rising—I must prepare pastries for little Dragon..."
Observing her husband's slight frown of displeasure, Narcissa extended a fingertip, indulgently lifting his chin.
"I'll prepare some for you as well, darling."
"That's more acceptable..."
Actually, the Malfoy family possessed more than merely Draco as offspring.
Embracing her husband's obediently offered arm, Narcissa slowly closed her eyes, lips curving with subtle smugness.
One week vanished in an instant.
Within the common room:
"Ha! Six points!"
"Wait!"
"This dragon devoured my Flying Broomstick!"
"Return to start? Oh no!"
"Bloody hell—I'm going to devour this dragon!"
The serpents and Venom gathered around sofas, engaged with the latest Wizard's Chess variant, their laughter and exclamations rising and falling rhythmically.
Tiger occupied a barstool position, leisurely stroking Gunpowder while perusing the newest Quibbler edition.
Occasional chuckles escaped him.
Celebrity gossip and scandals were described with vivid detail, while criticisms targeting the Ministry of Magic and pureblood aristocracy showed zero restraint—sharp commentary striking directly at hearts.
This publication proved absolutely fascinating. He couldn't resist retrieving previous Quibbler issues...
Today was Saturday—a precious moment of tranquility.
Gemma Farley, who'd been practically adhering to his person, had been dragged away by Rui Li Shafiq to Snape's office.
Hermione and those two incompetent Gryffindors had been acting mysteriously recently—their activities remaining unknown.
Regardless, days without interruption were truly magnificent...
Just then, stone wall displacement sounds echoed.
Draco Malfoy burst through like a hurricane, letter held aloft while releasing ecstatic screams.
"I have a dragon! I have a dragon!"
"Pansy, Father responded!"
"Negotiations succeeded! I'm getting a dragon!"
"Look, Blaise!"
Pansy and other friends turned their heads, observing with resigned expressions as Draco distributed the letter to everyone present.
Until Venom couldn't restrain itself, extending its tongue to lick his cheek. The uncontrollable shrieking ceased abruptly—Young Master Malfoy's complexion instantly drained to alabaster.
"Oh, chocolate morsel."
"You're absolutely delicious to my core."
Venom swallowed saliva with lingering appreciation, husky voice carrying traces of regret.
"Apologies—I'm absolutely famished..."
Young Master Malfoy stiffened completely, not daring the slightest movement as tears threatened to spill.
The predator's oppressive aura resembled a merciless fist, crushing his heart within its grip.
"Enough, Venom—Draco isn't particularly familiar with you. Don't terrorize him..."
Fortunately, Tiger approached at that moment.
He patted Draco's shoulder reassuringly before claiming the letter to examine its contents.
Most occasions found Venom sustaining itself on chocolate and magical energy. Heads no longer represented necessities—merely occasional snacks.
"Ha! I was only half-joking." Venom clutched its abdomen while laughing heartily.
Dark, writhing tentacles encircled Young Master Malfoy's waist, positioning him steadily nearby.
"Relax, lad."
"I never consume friends. Join our Wizard's Chess game—we'll wager chocolate!"
"Lisa, Tiamat—come quickly!"
"I don't want chocolate. Perhaps substitute different rewards—like touching your muscles?"
Lisa regarded Venom with burning intensity, eyes overflowing with undisguised longing and curiosity.
"Oh, certainly!"
Venom's tone brimmed with delight.
It adored being observed with worshipful gazes—especially by someone incapable of winning its chocolate.
"Hurry, Draco!"
"I require additional material!"
Cold dice were thrust into his palms. Accompanied by Lisa's urgent prompting, Draco Malfoy shuddered violently.
He'd never been this proximate to Venom previously.
The muscular obsidian form radiated elasticity, sinuous veins creating strange magnetism that involuntarily inspired tactile curiosity.
"Erm, Mr. Venom..." Draco Malfoy cast dice while inquiring with hesitant inflection:
"What did you mean by 'half-joking'?"
Venom scratched its cranium, observing Draco's tempting platinum locks while grinning rather foolishly.
"I genuinely am starving..."
Young Master Malfoy: (ΩДΩ)
So you still intend consuming me!
Truthfully, this represented mere craving manifestation—completely unrelated to hunger. Nobody understood Venom better than Tiger.
He glanced at Venom with irritation before entering the dormitory, retrieving the Winchester shotgun.
Before everyone's eyes, he loaded ammunition into the barrel, raising and spinning the weapon—crisp chambering sounds clicking distinctly.
"Anyone interested in camping?"
"Camping?"
The serpents' eyes widened dramatically.
"Tonight?!"
Receiving Tiger's correspondence, Hagrid instinctively exclaimed. Harry and Ron quickly gathered around.
"What's wrong, Hagrid?"
"Shelby plans transferring Norbert into the Forbidden Forest tonight—wants me prepared. He's utterly heartless..."
Accompanied by faint sobbing, Hagrid gazed at Norbert with reluctant eyes, bean-sized tears sliding down his weathered cheeks.
However, Norbert remained oblivious. The bearskin toy—larger than Harry—had been shredded to fragments.
"Look how joyfully he plays."
Hagrid stood, attempting to embrace his "precious son" once more, extending this final parental tenderness.
Scorching flames erupted toward Hagrid.
Norbert displayed considerable irritation toward this giant disrupting its entertainment without apparent reason.
Hermione couldn't suppress an eye-roll.
Within merely one week, this Norwegian Ridgeback's length had exceeded her height.
If they delayed Forbidden Forest relocation much longer, she feared the next hut visit would find Hagrid capable of amazing her childhood memories only in "partial" form...
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