Dragonology 101

Chapter 3

The face Juniper makes at him reveals both what she thinks about rules concerning gentleman and ladies, and that no matter how hard she may try she cannot physically raise her eyebrows. She turns and walks off muttering something under her breath of which only the phrase "toffee-nosed" is readily distinguishable. Felix follows, secretly appreciating the reduced weight of the bag from their previous excursion.

As he reaches the makeshift gateway created by the two enormous intertwined trees, Felix hears her start to hum that same song as the last time and his heart begins to pound. Any second now, he'll hear the dragon again...

It isn't until he's been sitting at the lip of the ledge for ten or so minutes, drinking in the sight of the dragon while Juniper tosses it rabbits, that Felix clears his head enough to ask, "Why do you sing to it? I've never read of music having any particular effect on dragons."

She's just below him, close enough that her voice carries in spite of the soft, gentle tone she uses around the dragon. "It's a trick I picked up when I trained a Thestral last year. Creatures that live in the forest are generally alarmed by the sound of something moving toward them. It's best if they know it's you before they hear your footsteps."

Felix looks away from the dragon for the first time to stare down at the top of her head. "You trained a Thestral?"

"Yeah. Hagrid needed one docile enough to take to the International Confederation of Wizards for a demonstration. He didn't have the time it takes to really socialize a wild Thestral so I helped out. It ended up going really well. I still visit him whenever I can. The Thestral, I mean"

Again, Felix finds himself more impressed with Juniper than he ever thought he could be of a thirteen year old. If she would just dedicate her talent and energy to the things that really matter, like her studies, he thinks, she'd be a shoe-in for Head Girl one day.

"So, you can see Thestrals?" he asks.

"Obviously. It's hard to train something you can't see."

"Who have you seen die?" It isn't until this question is out of his mouth and hanging in the air that he realizes how ridiculously personal and tactless it is. His cheeks flush brick red.

Before he can figure out how to undo his faux pas Juniper answers, "My mother". She offers no further elaboration, and he casts around for a way to sweep the subject behind them.

"You're sure I can't come down and help?" Felix asks, standing up, but as soon as he does the dragon's fierce eyes snap to him in suspicion. It growls that dangerous, warning song and bares it elongated teeth.

"I think Sparky's made himself clear. Or herself." Juniper responds, amusement coloring her sing-song lilt. "You need to give it time. It doesn't know you yet."

Which reminds him of another question.

"Why do you call it "Sparky"?" Felix asks, as they walk back a few hours later, pronouncing the moniker with distaste.

"It's a sort of joke." Juniper answers haltingly, whether from their brisk pace or embarrassment at her nickname for the dragon he isn't sure.

"I don't get it."

"Well," She says, picking through branches as quickly as she can (Felix is determined to be a step in front of her now that he knows the way a bit better), "Sparky is a sort of common name muggles give their dogs. In like books and films and things."

Felix stops, staring at her, his expressionless face just visible in the early light.

"And then, you know, spark? fire?...it's a dragon?"