Chapter 7 — I Really Want to Raise a Dragon
After their conversation in the Astronomy Tower, the relationship between Harry and Malfoy became somewhat subtle. It wasn't that they had grown any closer than before, but there was an unspoken understanding between them—something so uncanny that even without words, they could roughly guess what the other was thinking.
After several rounds of detention labor, time slipped into late October. Pumpkins began appearing all over the campus, and the notice boards were plastered with announcements for various club activities. Halloween was approaching. Wizards invested far more into this holiday than Muggles did—some traditional families even considered Halloween more important than Christmas.
At the long table in the Hufflepuff dining area, the cross-House group of six—now quite accustomed to claiming this territory—basked in the mellow autumn sun, enjoying their rare leisure time after class. Just then, an owl swooped down and dropped a letter into Harry's hands before perching at the edge of their table, clearly waiting for a reply.
Just from the messy handwriting on the envelope, Harry knew it was from Hagrid. The letters were as wild and uneven as the icing on the birthday cake Hagrid had given him when he turned eleven. Harry tore it open and skimmed through it quickly. Then, as if something had just occurred to him, he let out an "Ah."
"What is it?" Malfoy asked without looking up from Witch Weekly, though her tone carried unmistakable concern.
"I haven't gone to see Hagrid since the term started…" Harry said with a troubled expression, staring at the letter. "All my free time after class has been taken up by detention work, so I haven't had a chance. But it sounds like he's got something interesting to show me and wants me to come as soon as possible."
"As long as you know Filch's patrol schedule, it's still possible to avoid him after curfew," Malfoy calculated in her head before continuing, "If you go after afternoon classes, you should be able to make it back to the dormitory in time."
After a brief pause, she added flatly, "Actually, forget it. You definitely won't make it back in time for dinner. Just write back and tell him you'll visit after the New Year."
"Then I'll tell Hagrid you're coming with me and ask him to prepare dinner for us," Harry said, already tying his reply to the owl's leg without waiting for Malfoy's agreement. The owl took off immediately after receiving the letter, leaving Malfoy no chance to intercept it.
"What are you talking about? I never said I was going with you. And besides…" The thought of Hagrid's slightly grimy coat made Malfoy's expression involuntarily twist with distaste, though she tried not to appear rude. "You want me to eat something he cooked in that ramshackle hut of the gamekeeper?"
"It should be fine… I mean, the cake was so hard you could barely bite it, but if it's just roasted sausages or something, Hagrid can handle that," Harry replied. Only after Malfoy mentioned it did he recall the rock-hard birthday cake. Though it had been the first birthday cake of his life and held tremendous meaning for him, he had only managed a single bite before giving up.
"I really can't stand you. You're always dragging me into trouble," Malfoy said as she stood up, preparing to leave.
"Malfoy, you're not coming?" Harry asked anxiously. Although he had previously arranged things involving Malfoy without asking for permission, this time seemed to have genuinely irritated her. Still, he hoped she would come. On one hand, he wanted to introduce her to Hagrid as the friend he was closest to at Hogwarts. On the other, when Hagrid had taken him shopping before term began, Hagrid had shown clear disdain for Slytherin. Harry hoped Malfoy might change his mind.
"For your sake, I'll go… but just this once. I need to prepare a few things before class. You go ahead to the classroom."
---
At dusk, Malfoy arrived at Hagrid's wooden hut near the Forbidden Forest with Harry, carrying a plain crossbody bag. She had suddenly taken it out before class earlier that day. When Harry asked what was inside, she had simply replied with the cryptic word, "Insurance."
"They're here." Hagrid's rough voice boomed from inside. When the door opened, his massive, almost inhuman frame filled the doorway. He was wearing an apron and seemed to be cooking something. "Harry! Good ter see yeh still lookin' so lively. Jus' give me a moment—I'm a bit busy…"
The door closed again, and sounds of bustling activity continued from inside. After a while, it opened once more.
"All right, come in, come in! I want ter hear all about school. Heard yeh nearly made Snape from Slytherin cough up blood from anger, hahahaha—"
Severus Snape's name made Harry turn his face away awkwardly, while Malfoy looked at the two of them with resignation.
After Harry and Malfoy sat down, Hagrid poured them each a cup of tea. "Ah, I haven't made dinner yet. Been busy with… certain things lately, so I've just been eatin' whatever. There's some sausages—help yerselves."
He brought out slightly charred sausages. Harry eyed them uneasily. Malfoy, however, seemed to have anticipated this. She stood up.
"Let me do it. I'll borrow your stove."
Her suggestion stunned both Harry and Hagrid.
"Malfoy, you can cook?"
"It's just a hobby. Don't expect me to diligently cook for you," she replied coolly, pulling an apron from her crossbody bag. Inside were her personal cooking utensils and ingredients. Clearly, she had come prepared.
With a flick of her wand, the utensils and ingredients floated neatly to her side. As she focused intently, directing everything with practiced precision, Harry found himself staring at her in a daze.
"That little girl is the one you mentioned in your letter… the princess of the Malfoy family?" Hagrid leaned close to Harry and whispered while Malfoy was busy cooking. His tone was laced with caution. Harry knew Hagrid disliked Slytherin, but he hadn't expected this level of resistance.
"Yeah… she's… actually pretty nice, right?" Harry ventured cautiously.
Hagrid's brows knitted together, concern etched across his face.
"Harry, d'you know who her father, Lucius Malfoy, is?"
Lucius Malfoy
Not expecting Harry—who had known nothing of the wizarding world before September—to recognize the name, Hagrid continued without pause. "A Death Eater trusted by You-Know-Who. When You-Know-Who disappeared, he switched sides straight away, bought his way into the Ministry with his family's gold to wipe his crimes clean, and even bought himself a seat on the Hogwarts Board of Governors."
Halfway through, Hagrid glanced at Malfoy to make sure she wasn't listening.
"Anyone with a conscience in the wizarding world wouldn't have anything to do with her father."
"But—"
Harry tried to object, but Hagrid cut him off.
"I know, I know. She's not like him. Polite, trustworthy, a proper young lady. But her father won't pass up the chance to pull you to his side. I just want you to be careful if you ever meet him. You don't want to get tangled up with Lucius Malfoy."
Hagrid spoke with absolute conviction. Harry could only nod. He didn't believe Malfoy would lie to him, nor did he want to doubt the stories she had told him about her father. But he also didn't want to argue with Hagrid over it. In the end, he chose silence, quietly accepting the warning.
"All right."
As if she had been waiting for their private conversation to end, Malfoy returned to the table the moment Harry finished nodding. Along with her came an array of sumptuous dishes, neatly arranged across the table.
"Wow—"
"Mmm—"
The moment they saw the dinner spread, both of them gasped in admiration.
The dishes were simple—vegetables, meat, eggs, soup, bread, dessert. Though they were all common home-style meals, Malfoy had prepared them with remarkable refinement. Even the plating had clearly been arranged with care. It wouldn't have been strange to call the entire table something served at a high-end restaurant.
"Although the food from the Hogwarts kitchens is delicious," she said coolly, "I simply can't accept the way it's piled up in overflowing heaps with no presentation whatsoever."
"I'm digging in." Harry picked up a piece of chicken with his hand and popped it into his mouth.
"Use a knife and fork. Honestly, you have no table manners at all," Malfoy complained, handing him a napkin so he could wipe his hands.
The moment he bit down, the aroma sealed within the chicken burst forth all at once, flooding his senses and striking his brain with overwhelming richness. For a brief instant, Harry was so moved he nearly cried.
"I've never eaten anything this delicious in my life…"
"You're exaggerating. What, did you grow up eating leftovers before coming to Hogwarts?" Malfoy muttered, turning her face away in embarrassment at his praise.
In a certain sense, she wasn't wrong. At the Dursleys', Harry had never been allowed to sit at the table with them. If he didn't want to eat in the cramped cupboard filled with spiders, he had to wait until they finished and then eat whatever cold scraps remained. But that was something he would never tell Malfoy. Right now, it was enough just to enjoy everything Hogwarts had to offer.
Watching Harry eat with such delight, a faint smile appeared on Malfoy's face. Observing their interaction, Hagrid—who had initially been hostile toward Malfoy—found his attitude softening considerably.
Clang, clang, clang—
At that moment, a rattling sound came from a pot by the fireplace, breaking the calm atmosphere.
"What's that?" Malfoy asked immediately, her instincts alert as she eyed the pot warily. "Is something alive in there?"
"Er… it's nothing. Let's finish eating before we talk about that…" Hagrid said evasively.
His guilty expression only made Malfoy more suspicious. Raising her wand, she approached the pot cautiously, step by step.
"No need to worry. What's in there isn't that dangerous," Hagrid said lightly, making no move to stop her. Perhaps he figured she would see it after dinner anyway.
Malfoy carefully lifted the lid. The moment she saw what was inside, she drew in a sharp breath before quickly putting the lid back down.
"Mr. Hagrid…"
"Just call me Hagrid," he replied with a pleased grin, apparently satisfied with her reaction.
"The thing inside that pot…" Malfoy's voice trembled as her face turned pale. Harry had never seen her look so shaken. "It can't be that, can it? The one that's strictly regulated by law—something no one is allowed to possess privately?"
"Is it really that serious?" Hagrid scratched his beard in confusion.
"Of course it is! It's a dragon!" Malfoy exclaimed, flipping the lid open again and showing Harry the contents. Inside lay a massive white egg. "And you're still heating it—you're planning to hatch it, aren't you? Do you have any idea how fast these things grow? If it accidentally flies into the forest, it could burn Hogwarts to the ground!"
"Is it really that serious?" Harry turned to look at Hagrid, who immediately averted his gaze guiltily.
"Harry, even in the Muggle world, you've heard of Saint George, Siegfried, and Sigurd, haven't you?" Seeing Harry's utterly confused expression, Malfoy suppressed a headache and explained.
"Well… I don't think I've actually heard the stories, but the names sound familiar."
"To you Muggles, they might be legends. But in the history of the wizarding world, they were real—and they truly did slay dragons. Yet there are only a handful of recorded dragon slayers in history. The vast majority became dragon food. It wasn't until organized wizarding institutions were established—through numbers and research into dragons—that dragons were reduced to rare creatures. In ancient times, dragons were a wizard's worst nightmare. Otherwise, Gringotts wouldn't use dragons to guard their vaults."
She looked at Hagrid. She didn't dislike the man in front of her, but what he was doing was far too outrageous—so outrageous that she couldn't help wondering whether Harry's reckless tendencies had been influenced by him.
"What were you thinking? No sane person would hatch a dragon egg inside a wooden house."
"And forget Harry—this is our first meeting, and you're already letting me know about it. Were you even planning to keep this dragon a secret? If the Ministry of Magic finds out, you'll rot in Azkaban."
Azkaban
"But I really want to raise a dragon…" Hagrid muttered, lowering his head like a scolded child.
"Do you even know any dragon-slaying spells? If it loses control, can you stop it? Dragons have enormous appetites. Even if you feed it willingly, it wouldn't be enough for a single meal." Malfoy pressed a hand to her forehead. The mental strain Hagrid caused her far exceeded anything Harry had done.
"Let me borrow the owl. I need to write a letter." Malfoy began writing swiftly at the table. "My father knows a few merchants who breed dragons and trade dragon blood. The channels aren't exactly legal, but they should be able to take it off your hands. You don't object, do you, Hagrid?"
Hagrid nodded miserably.
Seeing how dejected he looked, Malfoy glanced at the table of food. "Have something to eat. I prepared all of this carefully. It can't replace the dragon, but it might at least lift your spirits a little."
"Alright…" Hagrid speared a piece of meat listlessly. As he ate, tears streamed down his face. "Harry was right… it's really delicious…"
Although Malfoy believed she had done the right thing, she still felt guilty about taking the dragon from him. So she made a promise.
"If you're willing to grace us with your presence, I can prepare an even more elaborate meal next time."
"'Really?'" Harry and Hagrid asked in unison, looking at her expectantly.
"Are you two secretly father and son or something?" Malfoy tied the letter to the owl's leg and added, "As long as Hagrid lets Harry bring me along."
"Of course! No problem at all!" Hagrid answered enthusiastically.
The same man who not long ago had declared that Slytherins were all bad and that the Malfoy family was wicked immediately forged a deep friendship with the Slytherin girl from the Malfoy family standing before him.