The paddock was buzzing with excitement as Hagrid introduced the lesson. “Common Welsh Greens today! Gentle if yeh know how ter handle ‘em.” Small dragons snapped and hissed, smoke curling from their nostrils as students leaned in to get a closer look.

You crouched near one, carefully following Hagrid’s instructions. The dragon shifted under your touch, its emerald scales gleaming in the sunlight. For a moment, everything seemed to be going well—until that familiar voice broke the peace.

“Well, well,” Draco Malfoy drawled, loud enough to draw attention. “Didn’t think they’d let you near a dragon. I suppose even Hagrid’s standards aren’t as high as they look.”

A few girls nearby giggled, their faces flushed as they turned to watch Draco. He was leaning against the paddock railing, his silver hair catching the light, confidence radiating from every inch of him.

“Go away, Malfoy,” you muttered, trying to focus.

He ignored you, smirking as he stepped closer. “Careful, wouldn’t want it to mistake you for a chew toy. Though, looking at you, I can’t imagine you taste much better than old boot leather.”

The girls laughed again, and you clenched your jaw, glaring at him. Harry and Ron, watching from across the paddock, exchanged scowls.

“Jealous, Potter?” Draco called, catching Harry’s glare. “It’s not my fault some of us were born with actual skill—and charm.”

Your dragon shifted uncomfortably, releasing a puff of smoke. Draco grinned. “Ah, see? Even the dragon agrees with me. Poor thing must be horrified at having you so close.”

The students laughed again, the sound stinging more than you’d like to admit. Draco’s smirk only widened. “Honestly, maybe you should step back before you embarrass yourself even more. Let someone competent take over.”