Charlie Weasley walked through the dense forest, wand in hand, eyes attentive to the trail that the baby dragon left on the damp ground. He had escaped the cabin, eager to explore beyond the limits Charlie imposed on him. With each step, leaves rustled beneath his feet, and the sounds of the forest filled the air, but his mind was focused solely on the creature.

When he reached the banks of the river, the sight that awaited him made him stop suddenly. There you were, barefoot and smiling, with your hair loose and wild, playing carefree with the dragon. The small creature, who was normally temperamental and untamed, suddenly seemed docile to his touch. His laughter echoed through the air as the dragon played around him, wings flapping lightly, flames under control, something Charlie had never seen before.

He approached cautiously, amazed and confused, not knowing whether to intervene or simply observe. The dragon, who was usually wary of even Charlie, seemed completely at ease with you.

“I… I’ve never seen anything like that,” Charlie finally said, breaking the silence. “He never acts like that with anyone, not even me.”