Chapter Text
Reaching the bank of the river, Draco dropped his body to the ground as he curled his tail around himself as he folded his legs under him.
He took a moment to soak in the sun as it warmed his scales, lifting his face to the source as he exhaled loudly. He could hear the forest around him; the low rumbling of the river as it flowed over the rocks, the gentle breeze rustling through the trees, the earthy scent that clung to the air.
Draco finally brought himself back to the moment as a familiar scent called to him. Her scent. He looked around for the source, something catching his attention on the ground before him. In the same spot he had come to expect it, there was a tantalizing token from Granger. He tipped his head to look at the coin, admiring how it glinted in the sun.
It was an impulsive desire, liking coins and shiny things. Something that seemed to stem from being a dragon more than anything. He had heard Weasley talking about how dragons like gifts of wealth.
He was not wrong.
Granger’s scent clung to the metal, lingering in the air around him.
She had left, he knew. To return to London.
Was she going to return here?
Did it matter?
Of course it does, he chided himself.
The moment she had touched him, his memories had come flooding back. He had felt this detonation of magic inside him, unlike anything he had felt before. It had unlocked a part of him he had thought long since lost. The human part of him that had been fading, slowly being replaced by this beast. There had been plenty of humans in the forest before her, the male– wizard, he corrected himself– Weasley she was with had been eager to find him.
But alas, Draco did not want to be found.
Or so he thought.
Until Granger showed up in all her frizzy haired glory, marching down into his favorite area of the river with a bloody backpack and unloading an entire year's worth of research material onto the ground like she was on a damned expedition.
He had come to realize that she was very much on a hunt, for him no less.
Well, not him, Draco Malfoy. But him, the dragon.
Draco huffed as he shifted his body to look at his reflection in the water, the flow slow and steady today. Had he been an animagus, he would adore this form he took. He was beautiful. His scales glistened with a pearlescent shimmer in the sun, his horns spiraled like a crown atop his head. But he wasn’t an animagus and he hadn’t chosen this; to live like this.
He despised it.
He was trapped in this creature's body.
He was in a forced exile because of it, living his days alone.
More so when he was in his human form.
Tipping his head one way and the other, he examined himself closely in the water. He wondered how much longer he had until the curse came to completion, locking him in this dragon's form.
How numbered were his days?
His thoughts were interrupted as a sound caught his attention, his head jerking up sharply as he turned his head. Footsteps. Not the man, they were too light. Granger’s, most likely. Still far enough away he couldn’t smell her.
The sound drew nearer and he knew she was descending the hill, her voice reaching him now. He heard the branches snapping, leaves rustling and then a resounding slew of curse words as she broke free of whatever she was using to hold herself, sending her tumbling down the remaining yard of the hill to land on her bottom at the base of the hill. He would be smirking if he could.
“Son of a BITCH!” Granger snapped loudly as she rose to her feet, rubbing her hands along her rear as she groaned. She stopped as she spotted him, her expression torn. Her hair had long since fallen free of its bun, the curls haphazardly hanging about her shoulders as she made her way towards him.
Something the matter? Draco wanted to ask, but his words came out a rumble from his chest.
Granger raked her fingers through her hair as she stopped on the opposite bank from him, looking skyward, “Ron’s divorcing me.”
Oh.
“And I guess Charlie’s known for some time. Maybe everyone has,” She said quietly as she dropped her gaze back to him. “Was I just a fool for thinking we were happy in our marriage? I certainly didn’t expect him to be having an affair.”
Prat. Did you hex him at least?
She was striping her boots off and rolling her pant legs up over her knees as she continued, “I mean, I should have hexed the bastard right then,” He rumbled in agreement, “I have every justification—” She slipped her foot into the water, sucking in a breath through her teeth, “—Holy shit, that’s cold.”
That’s why I’m still sitting here and you’re the one wading across it.
Draco chuckled as he watched her clumsily wading through the water, slipping on the wet rocks. The sound came out as low rumbling, still distinctive in its pattern to be considered nothing but laughter.
She glared at him, “Are you laughing at me right now, Dragon?”
Absolutely not.
He promptly looked away as she scolded him, “I’m out here, traipsing through the bloody jungle when I should be home trying to fix my marriage. But instead I’m talking to a dragon who may or may not understand me.”
Fair point.
Draco turned to look at her as she reached the banks of the river, her hands on her hips as she looked up at him. He raised his eyebrows–did he have eyebrows? No. Ridges? He wasn’t sure what he would call them– at her, waiting for her to continue her rant.
“What the bloody hell are you even doing out here? Aren’t you normally out there—” she pointed to the trees, “skulking about?”
He snorted loudly.
I don’t skulk.
“I came to the river, looking for privacy to bawl my eyes out and I can’t even seem to find it out here in the middle of nowhere!” Granger said quietly as her hands dropped to hang limp at her sides.
It was at that moment he could tell she was just barely hanging in there, her composure slipping with each passing second.
Oh, Merlin's beard.
Are you going to cry?
He lowered his face to hers, chuffing quietly as he looked at her. Really looked at her. The way he had in his human form. Her brows had drawn together over her eyes, which were dark with her emotions as they stormed through them. Her breathing was ragged, as if she were fighting back the impulse to draw in the breath that came right before a cry.
“What am I supposed to do? All I have are Harry, Gin and Ron,” Granger whispered, wiping the back of her hand across her cheek to dash away a tear as it fell free. “And-And now all I h-have is H-Harry and Gin, and th-they’re too busy fo-for me.”
Draco was at a loss.
He didn’t know what to do. He hated that he couldn't offer words of comfort, he couldn’t even give a pat on the back or a sympathetic hug. He gingerly pressed his muzzle against her chest, exhaling as he steered her into the space against his chest and between his front legs. She clung to him momentarily, the hum of magic sparking to life at her touch before she folded herself against the crook of his neck. He drew himself around her tightly, enveloping her in the closest thing he could consider a hug.
I’m alone too, he thought quietly as she pressed her face against the scales along his chest.
He watched her crumbling, knowing that Granger rarely came undone like this. That she would never allow him, Draco, to see her in such a state. He lost track of how long she cried, how long it took for her cheeks to start to dry, but he rarely paid attention to such things anymore.
Time was irrelevant for him and eventually it wouldn’t matter at all.
Eventually her hiccups subsided as she slid to the ground against him, her legs stretched out before her. He could hear her heartbeat, the gentle thumps gradually slowing to an even pace. Draco dropped his head onto her lap, earning a quiet grunt from her as she looked down at him in surprise. He chuffed at her, nuzzling against her stomach as he waited.
The sparks of magic leapt as she lifted her hand, stroking it along the bridge of his nose as she sighed quietly. He closed his eyes, just enjoying the sensation as it licked through his body.
Perhaps he was being needy, but he was dying to have her touch him and it was intoxicating.
“You know I saw you the other night,” Granger whispered above him, her fingers tracing along the spikes across his brow. He opened his eyes, tipping his head to look at her as his heart leapt at her words. “In my dreams, I mean. You were in human form,” She let out a quiet laugh, “Silly, I know. I don’t think there has ever been an animagus who can take the form of a dragon.”
If only she knew, he scoffed to himself.
“Oddly enough,” she continued as she looked down at him, “I saw you as my old classmate. Which is just wild, because I didn’t even like the bloke.”
Feeling was mutual.
“But I rather like you,” Granger whispered to him, a faint smile on her face, “I’m assuming that it’s mutual, or else I would be a snack.”
Well…
He could think of several things he wanted to do to her, snorting to distract his thoughts.
“Thank you for listening to me. I mean, not that I gave you much of a choice,” She admitted as she traced a finger along a healing scar that cut across his cheek. “Funny how a dragon can listen better to me than my own husband. But I suppose life works out that way sometimes.”
If only you knew, Granger.
“I hope we can get you somewhere safe, Dragon,” Granger said quietly, her eyes meeting his as he lifted his head away from her.
What?
She leaned back against his chest as she drew her knees up, “You were attacked by that Horntail. And undoubtedly once you become sexually mature—”
Already am, thank you, Draco scoffed in his mind as he looked away from her.
“—You’ll want to leave the forest and try to find a mate. But I don’t think there is anyone here for you. You’re special.” Her voice was quiet now as she looked up at him, her fingers tugging at the wrinkles of her jeans.
He slanted a look at her. If only she knew just how different he was to the other beasts in this forest.
Granger fell silent as she continued to observe him and he wondered what she was thinking. He had briefly shared his thoughts with her the first time they had touched, merely by accident. It had been in response to their sudden pulse of magic leaping between them. Would she be angry with him if he tried it again? He snaked his tail across her lap, curling it around her waist to create that connection again.
She didn’t seem to mind, her hand stroking along his scales as she looked down at his tail absently, “Charlie thinks it’s odd you allow this connection, Dragon. He says it’s only the young ones who are eager for human interaction. Why are you different?”
I could show you. But you would turn away.
Draco was selfish in the fact that he just wanted to read her thoughts, to see where her mind was. The magic was licking its way through his body with each touch of her hands, her words becoming more faint as her scent wrapped around him. He could feel himself slipping away momentarily as he held her tight to his chest and he shook his head to clear his mind.
He snorted in exasperation and she looked up at him with a frown, her hands stilling. He hated the urges that pulse through his body, the animalistic ones that roared to life. Impulses. Demands. He didn’t know what to make of them most of the time.
“Dragon?” She asked quietly as she reached a hand towards his face.
Draco could feel himself shrinking into his mind rather than coming out further and it scared him. Her scent was overwhelming him, the sound of her heart pumping blood through her body. The heat of her as she leaned against his chest.
He shouldn’t notice things like that.
What was wrong with him?
He didn’t realize he was breathing heavily—Merlin's beard, was he hyperventilating?—as she shoved his tail off her lap. Granger swiftly rose to her feet as he shook his head again, trying to clear that familiar fog that was starting to fall back into place.
Suddenly her hands were on the side of his face, stilling his panicked movements. He didn’t know her to be this bold, to grab him like this. He had a hard time remembering that he was a beast in this form, and she was trusting him enough to pull his head towards her.
“Settle,” Her voice was soothing and demanding at the same time, how one might speak to a startled horse. “Settle down,” She repeated as she forced his attention on her, one hand gripping the spur on the side of his cheek and the other stroking his cheek.
“ Shh,” Granger continued as his breathing slowed, “Why are you panicking?”
I don’t know , he thought angrily at himself as he tried to withdraw from her.
She was unrelenting, her Gryffindor stubbornness shining through as she gripped his face tightly again. Draco knew he could easily shake her off, he was massive compared to her. But he didn’t want to.
No, he did want to, but he couldn’t. Her touch was sending pulses of magic through his body that grounded him. Granger continued to hold him, his face pressed to her chest as she murmured soothing words. Her fingers were gentle as she smoothed them along his scales and Draco ached for her to touch his skin. He knew the ridges along his face dug into her skin but she didn’t seem to mind as she tried to calm him.
Draco could hear the rustling of leaves, the crunching of boots against the forest floor, over the sound of Granger’s steady heartbeat.
An interloper, the Weasley, was about to come upon them.
“Hermione,” Charlie’s voice called from across the river as he came down the hill.
She let out a quiet sigh as Hermione turned her head to look at him over her shoulder, her finger’s settling against the dragon’s cheek. He came to stop on the opposite bank of the river, his hands on his hips as he looked at her. His hair was unkempt, his face a mix of emotions. Mostly of concern, she noted. Perhaps even frustration marred his weathered features.
“I was looking to be alone, Charlie,” Hermione responded quietly.
He scoffed, “It doesn’t appear that way.”
She frowned slightly as she felt the dragon bumping his muzzle against her stomach, tipping her head away from the spiraling horns as they grazed past her face.
“He was here already,” She said absently as the dragon withdrew his head from her.
Hermione let her hands fall to her side as she pivoted slowly on her heel to face Charlie.
The wizard was visibly trying to calm himself as he looked between them, his voice even as he spoke again, “You should not be out here while you are upset. Creatures feed off our emotions, they are sensitive to them—”
“I’m aware of this.”
“And yet here you are.” He took a step towards them and the dragon let out a low rumbling growl. Charlie immediately stopped his approach as he held up a hand, “This is incredibly dangerous and reckless, Hermione. You are putting yourself at risk right now. And while I love that you are bonding with him—it’s bloody incredible, really, it is— he is very much an adolescent male dragon on the cusp of adulthood and we just don’t know what he will do.”
Hermione was quiet as she felt the dragon’s breath along her neck as he straightened, towering above her as he drew himself to his full height. There was a faint tingle of fear as he loomed over her, but it was fleeting. Somehow she knew he wouldn’t harm her. He had the opportunity several times over, especially when he had been vulnerable and injured.
“And,” Charlie was still speaking quietly as he turned his hand over, motioning at the dragon behind her as the beast shook out his scales, “He is exhibiting a lot of behaviors that he should not be.”
She was keenly aware of that fact; while she had shared her theory that he seemed to fully understand them, she had neglected to tell Charlie of the odd hum of magic she felt leaping between them every time she touched his scales. A part of her worried he would scoff at her words, but another knew he would be eager to hear what she had to say.
“I just want you to be careful, I don't want you to get hurt.”
Hermione came out of her thoughts sharply at his words, bristling as she scoffed, “You don’t want me to get hurt? You knew about Ron’s intentions to divorce me, Ron’s affair—”
“Ron’s having an affair?!” Charlie raked his fingers through his hair as he turned away, “No, Hermione. Bloody hell. I didn’t know about that. Just that he was unhappy and meant to leave you.”
She lifted her chin a little as she folded her arms across her stomach, his words a barb of truth. Her heart felt heavy having to hear them spoken aloud by another, reaffirming this was not all just a terrible dream. Because in what world could Hermione imagine herself in the forest of Romania, continually finding herself in the presence of a tentatively new species of dragon, and having snogged her soon-to-be ex-husband's brother?
The answer was none.
Hermione could hardly wrap her mind around the current events in her life. The fact that these fleeting weeks would come to an end and she would go home. Alone. She felt a tear slip down her cheek and she hastily wiped her palm against it, swearing under her breath. She thought had finished wallowing in self-pity already. She hated to give in to her emotions.
“I just didn’t want to get involved in his— your — lives!” Charlie was still talking and he spun to look at her, the hands he had outstretched at his sides falling as he noticed her.
Her voice was quiet as she angrily swiped the back of her hand across her cheek, “You’re my friend, Charlie. You could have told me. You should have.”
Regret flashed across his face at her words, “I'm sorry.”
“I’m sorry doesn’t fix this. It doesn’t make the pain go away,” Hermione glanced back at the dragon as he still lingered behind them, his head tipped to the side and his silver eyes shifting between them. He had been so silent she had almost forgotten his presence. She broke away from him to cross the river, grabbing her boots as she swept past Charlie without looking at him.