Chapter 99: Dragon Sanctuary
The next morning.
The two professors and the gamekeeper stood in the hotel courtyard.
The three Isle of Dragon horses had a brandy scent lingering around their mouths and noses, their long horse faces showing a bit of cheerfulness, standing in front of the carriage, hooves restless, ready to set off at any moment.
Today’s journey was relatively short, only a half-hour carriage ride from here to the dragon sanctuary, so Professor Kettleburn didn’t stop the pegasi from drinking brandy heartily.
“Sorry, Melvin, we have to head to Romania first. At breakfast, Abo told me the number of wizards coming to see the dragons during summer vacation has surged, and the reserve is starting to prepare to limit the number of tourists. We need to hurry over to handle the entry procedures.”
“No need to apologize, Professor. It’s very close here; we can apparate back anytime.”
“…”
Hagrid poked his big face over to get close, and today he wasn’t kicked by a hoof.
Melvin looked around, occasionally glancing up at the guest rooms upstairs, estimating how far the noise here could carry.
Slow footsteps came from behind. Hotel owner Abo gradually approached, handing over the package he had prepared for them, his kindly smile carrying a hint of teasing: “It contains lunch and Skele-Gro, Silvanus.”
“What do we need Skele-Gro for?” Hagrid turned back and asked.
“If he gets his hands or feet bitten off by a fire dragon again, Skele-Gro can quickly stop the bleeding.”
“…”
Hagrid looked at the two, opening his mouth several times, not knowing what to say, feeling that communicating with wizards was brain-racking, so he decided to keep pestering the Isle of Dragon horses instead.
Melvin listened to the two old wizards joking and bantering. From their language and behavior, it seemed the hotel owner wasn’t under the Imperius Curse.
“Too lazy to waste time with you here; when we get back, I’ll get you drunk on brandy until you’re addled.”
“I hope you come back with hands to hold the wine glasses.” The tavern owner turned to Melvin with a laugh. “Professor Levent, keep an eye on him while touring the fire dragons, don’t let him crawl into a fire dragon’s mouth.”
“I will.” Melvin nodded with a smile. The old wizard didn’t mention last night’s matter and hadn’t caused any trouble.
“Just wait!”
Kettleburn grumbled threats while boarding the carriage. Melvin and Hagrid followed closely behind.
The three travelers climbed into the carriage. The Isle of Dragon horses trotted forward, spread their wings, and the carriage lifted off shakily.
The clouds under the sunlight looked like surging waves, misty with dazzling silver-white colors. The three pegasi plunged into the clouds, opened their huge wings, charged toward the sun, then sharply turned direction, bursting out of the clouds, dragging long white trails behind them.
Hagrid sat at the carriage doorway, peering into the distance. He could faintly see a stretch of green mountains, but being in mid-air, even straining his eyes, he could only make that area’s color greener.
“That’s the dragon sanctuary, right?”
The half-giant who had hardly ever left Britain brimmed with eager anticipation.
They headed southeast along the way. After about half an hour, the Isle of Dragon horses arrived over the green area. This mountain range stretched endlessly, as if without end, with clouds and mist shrouding the peaks and valleys, giving a somewhat dreamlike scene.
Carpathian Mountains, starting west from the Danube River valley at the Austria-Slovakia border, passing through the Poland-Ukraine border to the river valleys in southwest Romania, vast in area, rarely visited by humans, with endless forests, valleys, and meadows, providing ample activity space and hiding spots for fire dragon groups.
The moment they entered the reserve boundary, the hairs on Melvin’s arms stood slightly on end, as if passing through an invisible curtain with a faint static charge. Various Muggle-Repelling Charms, Revealing Charms, locking charms, and such magical auras floated in the air.
The roar of a fire dragon faintly came from ahead.
A black shadow suddenly darted out from the cotton-like sea of clouds. A fire dragon pushed through the cloud waves, with deep green scales, two long horns flashing with golden light, eyes covered in a thin membrane that glowed with a halo in the sunlight, breath steaming hot from its mouth and nose, looking majestic.
“Roar…”
The sound was low and carried a natural reverb effect.
The Auror riding a broomstick nearby looked like a fly next to the giant dragon.
…
As the world-famous dragon sanctuary, with summer vacation arriving and too many wizard families coming to Romania to visit and play, various ill-intentioned individuals mixed in, the relevant departments had to seal the border, setting up 7 entry management points in various directions. Even so, wizards from all over the world still lined up in long queues.
Melvin, Kettleburn, and Hagrid landed under the guidance of the fire dragon and the Auror.
This was a campsite built with wooden planks, all buildings low and squat, the tallest wooden house only two stories. Alchemy magic circle patterns floated on the wooden surfaces, with dozens of scrying mirrors hanging from eaves and corners, showing traces of protective magic.
This kind of camp had to withstand fire dragon attacks and constantly monitor the surroundings to prevent dark wizards from sneaking in.
During the summer vacation peak, it was temporarily set up as a security checkpoint.
The three pegasi and that Romanian Longhorn were settled in the open space, drawing many gazes. The Auror on the broomstick scratched his head, gesturing while speaking in a somewhat awkward accent: “Queue up, security check.”
Kettleburn was already a regular, nodding and gesturing to show he understood.
The Auror breathed a sigh of relief, took off on his broomstick again. The fire dragon lying on the ground drooped its eyelids, looking lazy, with no intention of following this time.
Hagrid eyed the hill-like beast, itching to go over and touch it.
“Fire dragons are almost impossible to tame. Dragon knights and such are completely out of the question. Gringotts can only force them to submit through torture and pain, making them carry out tasks based on instinct, like immediately attacking all living things nearby upon hearing a specific noise.”
Kettleburn couldn’t tear his eyes away: “Here at the reserve, they use food to lure them, exploiting the fire dragons’ hunting and tracking instincts for patrols. Whether they cooperate depends on the fire dragon’s mood.”
Melvin was also sizing up the fire dragon, mainly observing its two long horns. Unfortunately, they were curved horns with an arc, not as nice-looking as the horns of the Horned Serpent or unicorn.
“Roar…”
The fire dragon in the open space twitched its eyelids, as if sensing his criticism.
Many wizards waiting for security checks gathered in front of the wooden house, from all over the world. Melvin even spotted a familiar golden Gordian Knot—Ilvermorny school uniform ornament.
The two Aurors up front dressed as security personnel, one male and one female, with a wooden sign beside them listing the security process in several languages, mainly registration of wands, space items, and dangerous items.
They queued outside the camp for the security check. It had only taken half an hour from Budapest to here, but the queue took 40 minutes.
Unknowingly, it was almost their turn. Melvin looked toward the front, where the two Aurors were working together: the witch checked identities and registered wands, the wizard inspected luggage.
The witch took their identification, discovering they were actually Hogwarts professors, one even a Care of Magical Creatures professor. Her expression softened a bit, but when she saw the old professor had only one arm and one leg left, she couldn’t help furrowing her brows.
“Professor Keltburn, here to see the fire dragons again?” The male wizard checking luggage teased, explaining to Melvin and Hagrid nearby, “I’m a Hogwarts graduate too, even took Professor Kettleburn’s class. Be careful while touring.”
Melvin handed over his suitcase, his gaze involuntarily lingering on the young witch a few extra times, thinking her face shape resembled the old witch he saw last night, and she had the same black hair and green eyes.
“…”
The young witch found this professor a bit odd, avoided his gaze, and put on a stern little face to officially register the wand.
The suitcase contained some ordinary daily items: clothes and bedding, stored food, odds and ends. The only noteworthy things were some magical equipment and a few dark magic items. The male Auror’s expression changed slightly when he found those.
“I’m a professor; these are teaching tools.”
“I know. Hogwarts is short on Defence Against the Dark Arts professors, so the Muggle Studies professor is filling in, right?” the wizard asked wryly.
“Yes, yes.”
If it were other wizards, these items might be confiscated, but the Hogwarts name carried a lot of weight. The two Aurors turned a blind eye and let them pass.
This wasn’t under the British Ministry of Magic jurisdiction, so Hagrid’s wand could be registered. He quite enjoyed publicly displaying his wand in the process.
He put away his little pink umbrella, followed the old professor inside, glanced at that suitcase, then at Melvin’s pocket, and scratched his head.
…
The interior of the solid wooden house also used the Undetectable Extension Charm, laid out somewhat like a Ministry of Magic hall, with marble fireplaces neatly lined along the corridors, the tops inscribed with Romanian, unintelligible, but judged by the nearby patterns to mark different fire dragon breeds.
Emerald-green flames burned brightly in the hearths, warm and toasty.
Not sure if it was an illusion, but the air seemed filled with an indescribable smell, like a mix of scorched rock and scalding sulfur.
Melvin and Hagrid followed Professor Kettleburn further in.
Hagrid eyed the fireplaces, even reaching out to feel the flames, and asked curiously: “Is the Floo Network connected here too?”
“Something like that.” Melvin gave a brief explanation; he’d seen it in the materials. “These are localized Floo Networks, isolated from the outside, covering just a few different areas of the reserve for keepers and tourists to travel between.”
“Which area is Norbert in?”
Melvin stopped, looking at the office next to the old professor ahead, and said softly: “That’ll be up to Charlie Weasley.”
…
In the office.
Charlie sat in the chair he had nailed together from wood, using a dagger to pop a bright red blister on his fingertip. The callus was thick; with a bit too much force, blood and pus spurted out uncontrollably, bloody and gruesome-looking.
The colleague nearby sucked in a breath: “Even dragonhide gloves couldn’t protect you? You went to feed that Short-Snout again this morning?”
“I heard it hadn’t eaten since last night, so I dragged a sheep over.”
“And then got scorched by dragon breath?”
“Yeah…”
Charlie showed no expression, sprinkling Skele-Gro on the wound. The magics of dragon flame and potion reacted, like ice water poured on a red-hot iron, hissing as white mist rose.
“Starving it for two days won’t kill it.” The colleague handed over a bandage and sighed. “That Short-Snout is in brooding period, bad-tempered, sprays anyone who gets close. Should wait until it’s fully weakened before feeding. You’re a senior keeper; how do you still make this mistake?”
“Mother dragons get weak during brooding; their dragon breath temperature is uneven, so hatchlings come out unhealthy.”
“Unhealthy ones can be nursed slowly; fire dragons’ vitality is way stronger than yours. How many blasts of dragon breath can you take…” The colleague said, “Anyway, I heard your friend who’s hatching Norberta is visiting today. When do they arrive?”
“Should be this morning.”
Charlie wasn’t too sure. In his impression, Hagrid was kind-hearted and loved animals but wasn’t very reliable.
Just then, heavy footsteps came from the corridor outside, accompanied by a knock, and the half-giant’s deep, powerful voice penetrated the wooden wall: “Charlie in there? Charlie?”
…
Hagrid was about to knock harder when the door suddenly opened.
“Hagrid.”
“Charlie!”
Hagrid beamed, not going in, just blocking the doorway for a hard chat.
Professor Kettleburn behind smiled and greeted him too. Charlie Weasley had been a notable figure at school, Gryffindor Quidditch captain, leading the team to multiple championships. Most importantly, while other subjects weren’t top-tier, he always got Outstanding in Care of Magical Creatures exams.
After graduation, he became a fire dragon keeper, nearly ten years now, with all limbs intact.
It left a deep impression on Kettleburn.
“And this must be the Muggle Studies Professor Levent!”
Without waiting for others to introduce, Charlie greeted Melvin proactively. He was older than Melvin but very respectful: “Mum and Ron mentioned you in letters. You took good care of my younger brothers at school and even helped Ron get a new wand.”
“He earned the film fee himself.”
Melvin smiled. He had a good impression of this Weasley.
He had the Weasley family’s signature red hair, a weather-beaten broad face covered in freckles, long sun exposure giving him a near-brown-black complexion, shorter and stockier than Percy, also more solid, with fingers and arms covered in scars from claws, bites, burns, and such.
After some friendly chat, they didn’t enter the office and headed straight for the Norwegian Ridgeback habitat.
“You don’t know yet, but Norbert’s actually a girl. We gave it a girl’s name: Norberta.”
“Right in this valley.”
Charlie knew it was Melvin’s first time in Romania and first time visiting fire dragons, so he explained as they walked.
Fire dragons were dangerous creatures after all, different breeds with different habits—some social, some solitary—considering territory awareness to prevent conflicts between young and adult dragons, special care for brooding mother dragons, so the reserve was divided into different areas.
Norbert, now Norberta, was in the Norwegian Ridgeback territory, in the underage dragon care area.
