Кассандра Клэр - Draco Sinister

"They're fantastic," he said.

Charlie suddenly beamed. "Aren't they?"

"Don't know why we've never done dragons in Care of Magical Creatures," said Draco, still staring upward.

"Probably the same reason we've never done Certain Death Charms in Flitwick's class," said Ron sourly. "Mortality rate."

"Malfoy," said Harry, sounding curious, "that dragon is staring at you."

He was right. The blue Swedish Short-Snout had fixed its enormous dinner-plate eyes on Draco and was gazing at him with a look that could almost be described as fond. Charlie looked amazed. "I think she likes you," he said to Draco. "That hardly ever happens."

"Maybe he smells like food," muttered Ron.

Draco approached the barrier, stood as close to it as he could, and gazed up at the dragon, which gazed back, emitting cheerful-looking puffs of smoke.

"Well, I'll be," said Charlie, still looking startled. He turned to Draco.

"Do you — do you want to help me feed them later?" he asked. "I wouldn't ask, but it's so rare that they take to people…I just thought…"

Draco nodded. "Sure."

Charlie looked thrilled. As Ron looked on resentfully, he clapped Draco on the back in a brotherly manner and said, "That's great, that's just — great." Then, seeming to notice Draco's rather battered appearance for the first time, he said hastily, "It looks like you might need to borrow some clothes."

"Trousers," said Draco immediately. "I don't much fancy pioneering the new one-trouser-leg look, even if we are in the middle of nowhere."

"You can have some of my old clothes," said Charlie amicably.

"Come along with me, all of you, you can wash up in the tents."

"In one second," said Draco. "I want to talk to Harry."

"We'll meet you over there," said Harry to Ron, who shrugged and walked off with Charlie and Ginny.

Harry looked at Draco curiously. "What is it, Malfoy?"

"We're really close," said Draco in a low, excited voice. "The Charm -

as soon as we got here, it started, I don't know, vibrating. We can't be more than an hour away from wherever Hermione is."

Harry looked at Draco hard. "You're sure."

Draco grinned. "Have I ever let you down?"

"Do you actually want me to answer that?"

"Whatever, Potter," said Draco. "I'm still right. I think we should go immediately — well as soon as I get some new clothes, but relatively immediately. And I think we should take as few Weasleys with us as possible."

Harry looked astonished. "Go without Ron and Ginny?"

Draco nodded.

"That's ridiculous, Malfoy. Whatever happened to strength in numbers?"

"Two's a number," observed Draco.

"I'm not going anywhere without Ron," said Harry.

"Why not? You'll just have to worry about protecting him-"

"You don't know the first thing about him!" yelled Harry.

"And you think you do?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Draco gave him a narrow look. "Nothing, if you don't want to hear it," he said.

"I don't listen to him when he talks about you," said Harry. "Why should I listen to you when you talk about him?"

Draco looked startled. Possibly it hadn't occurred to him that Harry might ever stick up for him.

"I'm tired of you two sniping," said Harry. "I am tired of this stupid family feud of yours. Keep it up if you want, but I plan to ignore you."

"Sure," said Draco. "When nothing else works, a total pig-headed unwillingness to look facts in the face will always see us through."

"You're not going to be able to make me angry," said Harry, starting to walk away. "Not this time."

Draco followed him, still argumentative. "That's right, Potter, scuttle away…"

"I am not scuttling away. I am stalking away. So sod off, Malfoy, and go bother Charlie. At least he likes you."

Charlie's tent was set back from the others and, like many wizarding tents, was much more spacious inside than it appeared from outside. Inside, it was a tidy little bachelor apartment. The door opened onto a small kitchen, in which Draco waited while Charlie went off to get him a change of clothing. Draco could glimpse other rooms leading off a narrow corridor, each decorated with neat wooden furniture pieces that looked as if Charlie had made them by hand. Over the fireplace in the kitchen hung a photograph of the Weasley family, waving and smiling, and next to it was a square silver mirror.

Draco glanced into it, wincing as he saw just how bloodied, muddied, and battered he looked.

"Ve-ry interesting," drawled the mirror in a decidedly feminine voice, making him jump. "Lots of promise here. Can't wait to see how you clean up."

Charlie, who had come back into the room carrying a pile of clothing, snorted with laughter. "Leave him alone, Audrey," he said sternly to the mirror. "He's only sixteen."

"Seventeen in a month," said Draco automatically, backing away from the mirror. He was used to mirrors that talked, but not necessarily mirrors that talked so frankly.

"Here," said Charlie, setting the clothes he had brought down on the table. "Some of my clothes, I don't know if they'll fit you, but…I brought you one of my old jackets, too, in case you wanted to come with me to feed the dragons. They really seem to like you. Ever thought of studying dragons, maybe, after you graduate? You could get an internship."

"Never thought about it," said Draco truthfully, shrugging off his jacket and reaching for the clothes on the table. Charlie whistled.

"That," he said, "is a great sword."

Draco glanced down at Slytherin's sword, which was stuck through his belt. "Thanks," he said. "It's been in my family for a long time."

"Can I see it?" Charlie asked, reaching out a hand.

Draco shook his head. "It's enchanted," he said regretfully. "It'd char off your fingers."

"Well, who wouldn't enchant a sword like that?" said Charlie, with another dazzled look. "Although," he added, "you're carrying it wrong." He grinned at Draco's expression. "There's no point sticking it through your belt where it's going to bang against your leg every time you move. You should carry it over your shoulder, so you can reach back and grab it if you need it, but it'll be out of your way."

"You seem to know a lot about this," said Draco.

"I like swords," said Charlie. "It sort of goes with the liking-dragons thing. I've got lots of gear I could lend it to you."

"Thanks," Draco said.

"As a matter of fact," said Charlie thoughtfully, "if you're going to be feeding dragons, you're going to need all the right gear. Hold on a minute, I'll be right back."

"Your brother seems to like Malfoy," said Harry, as he and Ron washed the dirt off their faces and hands in the tent that Charlie had provided for them."The dragons like Malfoy, so Charlie likes him," said Ron, shrugging. "He'd like the Dark Lord if he got along with the Hungarian Horntails. At least it took his mind off us."

Harry looked at himself in the mirror over the sink. He'd removed most of the dirt and blood with a washcloth, revealing a very pale, very unhappy face whose green eyes were smudged with exhaustion.

He put his glasses back on and straightened up, running a hand through his untidy hair. "Cheer up, love," said the mirror gently.

"Nothing's that bad."

Outside the tent they met Ginny, who, not being as filthy as the boys, had cleaned herself up more quickly. Her red hair, wet from being washed, hung in damp fiery tendrils around her face. She smiled at Ron, then looked anxiously at Harry, "Feeling better?"

Harry shrugged. "Just tired."

Ron smiled at his sister, and then his eyes slid sideways and he stared in surprise. "Well, would you look at Malfoy," he said.

Ginny and Harry turned and glanced where Ron had indicated.