Hello! I don't normally put author notes in the beginning, but I need to do some house cleaning. As some of you may be aware, J.K. Rowling, the creator of Harry Potter, has recently been very vocal about her anti-transgender views. This isn't necessarily new, but she has been more aggressive with her transphobic agenda within the last few months. Since Chaeyoung Gets a Dragon takes place in a universe she wrote, I must address a few things (I'll try not to be longwinded):

1. I do not agree or stand by any of the transphobic rhetoric JKR has spread. Transwomen are women. Transmen are men. Nonbinary folk are nonbinary. Everyone's identity within the trans community is valid 1000000%. This is not up for debate or discussion. 

2. JKR's tweets and essays brings up the classic question of: can you separate the artist from the art? I am not here to provide answers or how to necessarily approach the topic, for I strongly believe that it is a very personal question. But I will say we MUST acknowledge an artist's viewpoints. We can't ignore that JKR is a TERF (Trans-exclusionary radical feminist) and actively tries to invalidate trans folk's - particularly transwomen's - identities. Once we ackowledge this, we then need to ask ourselves where do we go from here? 

Well, for me, I wasn't initially sure if I wanted to continue this story. JKR has been violent with her words and if I continued to write a story within her own creation, was I supporting that violence? But after some thought, I decided that I should for a couple of reasons (and others that are more personal, but won't share here):

A) I am a firm believer that readers have as much rights to the story, creatively, as an author does once a story is published (as well with any other type of media). Fictional stories can be immensely personal, but once it's in a public sphere, you as a creator have no control over the audience's reactions. You can no longer dictate what people think or how people imagine the events. Sure, there are things that are canon (i.e. Harry Potter has black hair, green eyes, and a lightning scar on his forehead), but there is so much room for the reader to fill in the blanks - hence headcanons (i.e. Harry Potter has brown skin, bought another snowy owl to honor Hedwig after the Second Wizarding War). This is just a reality fictional creators must accept (JKR, I'm talking to you!). As readers, we have the power to reclaim a story for ourselves. We can reimagine and reinterpret the world to fit our own narratives in various ways via fanart, fanfics, creation of OCs, etc. So seize the power!! 

B) Although this story does bring attention to Harry Potter's world, JKR isn't getting a DIME off of Chaeng's Dragon so at the very least, she isn't financially benefitting from my work. 

Anyways, these are just my thoughts. You don't have to agree and you are allowed to have your own opinions on how to tackle these things, but I'm not here to have a conversation about it. 

However, if you yourself do not feel comfortable supporting any variation of JKR's work and want to stop reading Chaeng's Dragon, that is COMPLETELY OKAY. Please take care of yourself and your values first. Thank you for reading the story! Much love and gratitude to you!! 

Also Here is a tumblr post that dives a little deeper into the situation as a whole (haha, yeah, it's a post I reblogged).

In conclusion: trans folk are valid. I love you all and support you. 

(I was long-winded. Sorry!!) 

Disclaimer: I do not own any parts of the Pottermore Universe, including but not limited to: settings, characters, the mechanics of magic, etc. All of this belongs to the author of Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling, and Warner Bros. respectively. Idol characters are purely fictional and have no affiliation with the actual person and/or group.

December had entered the scene with her wintery breath and ashen skies. Snowfalls became more abundant and soon the Highlands were nothing but a white ocean as far as the eye could see. The moon herself was fading quickly: with each passing day, her pale face was consumed in shadows, little by little, like ink spilling across a blank page. Soon she would take her rest.

But despite the new moon approaching, a tense silence sat heavy in the Ravenclaw common room one late night. Although most students had gone to sleep, not everyone was laying peacefully in slumber. Mina paced around the room: head lowered, eyes glued to the floor, and hands behind her back as she walked in circles.

“How could you?” she cried out, abruptly stopping. She placed her hands on her hips and glared directly across the room.

Chaeyoung was lounging on a couch: feet kicked up, head laid on the arm rest with blonde hair splayed over the edge, and a bowl of strawberries rested in her lap. The third-year didn’t even bother to look at Mina. She just popped a strawberry in , chewing it obnoxiously.

“I don’t see what’s the big deal,” Chaeyoung said as she smacked her lips together. “We have the heirloom. Why does it matter?”

“Because,” Mina said in a shrilly voice, “this could be over sooner than later. But no, you had to lose the ring Eads gave you!”

“Minari, relax. We’ll meet up with him right on the deadline. No biggie.”

Mina clenched her jaw. She wished her glower could zap holes into Chaeyoung’s thick dense head; maybe then her Housemate would actually understand the urgency of the situation.

Chaeyoung seemed to notice Mina’s crabby mood and sat up to meet the prefect’s eyes, an eyebrow raised. Red juice dribbled down her chin like a vampire child had overindulged on a feast, and Mina tried not to visibly cringe. “Are you really that eager to get rid of me, Mina?”

“I would think you didn’t want a prefect hanging around you longer than necessary,” Mina replied tersely.

Chaeyoung set aside the now empty bowl on the floor and wiped with the back of her hand. Red smeared her plump lips like a bad lipstick job. She stood up and faced Mina, wistfully. “If it’s you, I don’t mind.”

Mina blushed.

“Oof. I’m beat. Gonna head up to the dorms, you coming, Minari?” Chaeyoung asked as she yawned, stretching her arms overhead.

“I think I’ll stay up a bit longer – maybe revise or get ahead of my lessons.”

Chaeyoung scrunched her nose in disapproval. “Geek.” Nonetheless, she shrugged and left Mina alone.

The common room fire whimpered. Mina fed fresh logs to its hungry aching mouth, watching the flames grow back to life. Nervous thoughts plagued her. Mina had assumed that once she and Chaeyoung found the missing heirloom, the dark overhead cloud of impending doom would have dissolved. Instead, it expanded. New worries replaced old ones. And then newer worries piled onto those new ones. And then even more newer worries climbed on top of the rest. It was a never-ending torrent of dread and fear.

Mina plopped down on the couch into a sea of cushions, fishing for the heirloom in her pocket. She had taken the responsibility to hold onto it despite Chaeyoung’s protests – she was too unreliable to keep the disk safe. If Chaeyoung was in charge, it would be just their luck to show up to the pub empty-handed or hand over a shattered heirloom.

Turning over the silver disk in her hand, Mina scoffed. She risked her life (note: several times) for this? This was the most unimpressive heirloom ever! It was extraordinarily bland! The polished surface only contained an engraving of Eads’s mark; no embedded jewels, no precious metals, no secret messages scrawled on the backside. There was nothing exceptional about it! At least the treasure could’ve been like actual treasure so the whole quest felt somewhat justified. This . . . this was just a thick, oversized Sickle!

The more Mina examined the heirloom, the more questions popped up. First off, how did the heirloom get lost in the castle? Who created the quest? Was it Eads? Did he write the riddles? Hide the clues? Mina frowned. If Eads was the architect of the hunt, then why would he make two students look for his heirloom?

It didn’t make any sense. None of it did.

Stop it, Mina, she chided herself. Enough about the quest! She and Chaeyoung found the heirloom and that was all she needed to do. This shouldn’t matter to her anymore. She was free – or soon to be free. It was over. The end. Good-bye.

Suddenly Chaeyoung flashed through her mind and something pulled at Mina’s heartstrings.

It will certainly be good-bye.

Finally, the day of December’s new moon arrived.

Unfortunately, the day happened to fall on a Friday – a school day – which meant that sneaking out of Hogwarts was ten times more difficult.

“I don’t understand why we can’t just cut class,” whined Chaeyoung. As per usual, the group had met up at their table in the study area on the fourth floor early that morning. Jeongyeon and Mina sat on one side of the table, Chaeyoung and Momo on the other. Surprisingly, Dahyun hadn’t shown up. No one knew where she was, though Momo suspected that she might’ve overslept. Everyone had their textbooks and parchment out to make it look like they were revising, even though their conversation was far from anything school related.

“Because, it would look suspicious if a handful of students were missing from their classes,” hissed Mina. “The last thing we need are professors sticking their nose into our business.”

“I agree. We have a plan. A good plan. So you better stick to it, kid,” said Jeongyeon, pointing her quill directly at Chaeyoung. “No skipping.”

Chaeyoung groaned, slumping down in her seat. “You just don’t want to mess up your chances with the Ministry,” she grumbled.

“Excuse me for not wanting to be expelled from school,” said Mina. “Some of us have actual ambitions in life we want to achieve.”

“Lame ambitions.”

“Stop it – both of you,” Jeongyeon intervened. “Right now we should go over our plan to ensure everything works smoothly as possible.” She then dove straight into the plan’s details: there were a handful of hidden tunnels within the school which conveniently led to Hogsmeade. Whilst some tunnels were unfavorable – either caved in, monitored by Filch, or located underneath the Whomping Willow, a viciously violent tree on the school grounds – there was one easily accessible on the third-floor. According to Jeongyeon, it was behind a statue of Gunhilda of Gorsemoor, a one-eyed, hump-backed witch who had discovered the cure for Dragon pox.

“I still can’t believe there’s been a secret passageway to Hogsmeade all this time,” said Mina. She had never heard of these tunnels prior, but apparently this wasn’t new knowledge to the rest of the group.

“Yeah, well, you better not tell any of your prefect buddies!” Chaeyoung huffed. “We use it for very important matters.”

“Important matters? Like what?”

“The underground sweets ring,” said Momo quietly.

“MOMO!”

“The what?”

Jeongyeon immediately cut in. “Ooookay! How about we meet up at the Gunhilda corridor at eight after supper. Momo, can you please inform Dahyun?”

Momo gave a salute. “Roger that!”

“And kid, you still have the ostendometer, right? We should take that with us so we don’t get lost in the village.”

Chaeyoung delivered two thumbs-up.

The meeting closed, and the girls made their way down to breakfast feeling satisfied with the morning’s productivity. Except for Mina. She was still trying to wrap her head around Momo’s confession of a covert confectionary operation running within one of the most prestigious Wizarding schools in the country.

The day carried on as usual: though Mina did her best to focus on her lectures, she remained absentminded, barely processing a single word from her professors. Worry had made itself a rather distracting companion. There was, after all, so much to worry about! Mina chewed her bottom lip as anxieties piled on one after another: sneaking out of school, the meeting with Eads, the possession of an unhatched dragon egg, and – her biggest worry – Son Chaeyoung. These worries would continue to haunt her for the remainder of her lessons and well into the evening.

By the time supper time arrived, Mina had a massive headache. Even the house elves’ wonderful butternut squash soup could not ease all of the tension in her body. Chaeyoung suggested she’d try some of buttery bread rolls, but after seeing the younger girl gorge down five in under two minutes, Mina no longer had an appetite. She decided to just sip some water instead.

After eating, Mina and Chaeyoung ran out of the Great Hall and straight to the third-floor. Jeongyeon and Momo were already waiting for them in the Gunhilda corridor, chatting casually to each other. The two looked the complete opposite of one another. Jeongyeon was dressed in muted tones: dark gray skinny jeans, a forest green shirt, and a fancy leather jacket on top. Her blonde hair was tied in her signature ponytail. Mina thought the Gryffindor Captain looked very chic – even if it was just for sneaking out of school. Momo, on the other hand, took a more colorful route: she wore a bright bubble gum pink track suit and circular specs. Her black hair fell in waves down her shoulder, a sharp contrast to saturated pink.

“You two look like a cartoonish duo,” stated Chaeyoung with a laugh, pointing at her friends.

“And you look ill-prepared for the weather, kid,” scolded Jeongyeon, eyeing Chaeyoung’s outfit which consisted of jeans and a crewneck with a bunch of holes, paint splatters, and the words Be Yourself written on the front. She had nothing else with her except for the ostendometer in her bare hands. Although Mina warned the third-year the temperatures would be nearly freezing tonight, Chaeyoung had clearly ignored her.

“It’s too late to go back and put on something else,” Chaeyoung retorted. “You’ll just have to deal with it.”

“Fine, but don’t whine when your arse is frozen.” Chaeyoung scowled, sticking her tongue out at Jeongyeon.

“Where’s Dahyun?” Mina asked, noticing that the fourth-year was again missing. Everyone looked at Momo, curiously.

Momo held her hands up. “When I told her about tonight, she said she wouldn’t be able to make it. No reasons given. Oh, she also asked me to relay this message to you, Chaeyoung.” Momo pulled out a scrap of parchment from her pocket and squinted. “And I quote: ‘Son Chaeyoung, you’re still extremely stupid for wanting a dragon. Please come back in one piece and with no extra limbs. Love, Dubu. P.S. don’t get Mina killed.’”

Chaeyoung snatched the paper out of Momo’s hands, reading it over with her own eyes. “And you’re still a coward,” she muttered as she crumpled the note.

The four girls gathered around the statue of Gunhilda de Gorsemoor. The gnarly witch was hunched over like a withering tree. The fine carved wrinkles of her stone gray skin and the subtle folds of her cloak were startingly realistic, making Mina a bit unnerved. Her face was contorted in a displeased expression, with her one good eye gazing at the cobbled floor – a curse to look at people’s feet for eternity. It occurred to Mina she had yet to see a statue within Hogwarts castle that didn’t appear disgruntled or stoic.

Momo kept watch for anyone approaching whilst Jeongyeon tapped the stone witch with her wand and whispered, “Dissendium.”

Mina gasped as the hump of the statue opened, revealing a tunnel entrance barely big enough to fit one person.

Chaeyoung volunteered to go first: she crawled into the hole, her hands gripping the edge to balance her small body, and turned to the others with a grin. “See you at the bottom!” She pushed herself forward, disappearing into the darkness.

“Want to go next?” Jeongyeon asked, facing Mina.

Mina wondered if no was an acceptable answer.

“Uh-oh . . . I hear voices . . . People are coming!” Momo hissed.

Jeongyeon swore under her breath. “Looks like you don’t have a choice,” she said as she hoisted Mina up to the edge of the entrance. “Piece of advice: go feet first.”

“W-what –?”

“Hurry! I think one of them is Professor McGonagall!” Momo’s voice grew louder and more frantic.

Before Mina could register what was happening, Jeongyeon shoved her. The prefect slid down a long stone slide, a silent scream escaping her lips. All of the sudden her feet hit the firm ground. A tremor ran up her legs as she stumbled upon the abrupt impact and almost fell face first until a pair of arms stabilized her.

“Took you long enough,” said Chaeyoung, pointing her illuminated wand at Mina. “Where are the others?”

On cue, Jeongyeon appeared, also staggering a bit on her landing. “It’s just us,” she said, dusting off her pants and leather jacket. “Momo sacrificed herself to stall Professor McGonagall and Professor Lee, allowing me to join you both.”

“Poor Momo,” murmured Chaeyoung. “A moment of silence for our fallen comrade.” She dramatically placed a hand on her heart and closed her eyes.

Jeongyeon ruffled Chaeyoung’s hair. “Cut the theatrics, kid, and let’s keep moving. We don’t have a lot of time.”

“And then there were three . . . Who’s next?” Chaeyoung held her wand to her face and mimicked a high-pitched ghost sound as she wiggled her fingers with her free hand.

“Don’t joke about that,” chided Mina. Though neither Dahyun or Momo had encountered actual danger, she didn’t want to entertain the idea that something could happen to the remaining members of the group. They were on their way to meet with a Black Market dealer.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Chaeyoung waved dismissively. “Oh, hey, look! Fresh footprints!” She crouched down and hovered her wand over the dirt floor.

The wand light barely illuminated the tunnel so it was rather hard to see, but Mina could make the faint outline of shoe marks. They led straight into the heart of darkness.

“But . . . surely it’s not unusual,” said Mina tentatively. “Someone from your sweets ring was probably down here recently, right?”

Mina didn’t like the hesitant looks Chaeyoung and Jeongyeon shared.

“Yeah . . . that’s probably it,” said Jeongyeon.

Chaeyoung grasped one of Mina’s hands and squeezed it. “Don’t worry, Minari! Even if someone dangerous was down here, you’ll be safe with me!”

It was a sweet gesture, but it didn’t quite reach the level of reassurance intended. After all, Chaeyoung was usually why they were in an unsafe situation in the first place.

However, Mina held onto the third-year’s hand tightly. “Alright, Chaeng. Lead the way.”

Hogsmeade was different on a Friday night compared to the bustling weekend mornings when Hogwarts students were permitted to visit. The streets were dimly lit against the night backdrop; most of the shops were closed or closing, windows darkened and the colorful displays turned into muted silhouettes; there were a few people out, but they hurried themselves home as if they were scared to be outdoors, even at such an early hour in the evening.

Honeydukes had already closed, which made it easy for Mina, Chaeyoung, and Jeongyeon to slip out of the shop. They made sure to charm the door lock so they could return without setting off the security alarm. Mina was not surprised when Chaeyoung shared her expertise on breaking in and breaking out of buildings with magic.

“Do I want to know how you obtained all of this knowledge? You’re thirteen,” Mina asked as Chaeyoung overrode the security system with a few waves of her wand.

“Which must mean I’m a genius,” said Chaeyoung, suspiciously ignoring the question. “But this shouldn’t be news to you.”

“I’m starting to think getting a dragon isn’t the worst idea in that head of yours.”

“Thank you.” Chaeyoung beamed.

The girls made their way to the Red Salamander with the help of the ostendometer leading them left and right through the village. Poor Fig. He probably was never going to get the compass back.

Suddenly, as the girls reached the end of a vacant alley, Chaeyoung stopped dead in her tracks, causing both Mina and Jeongyeon to bump into her.

“What the hell?”

“Chaeyoung!”

“Shhh! The compass says there’s someone nearby,” she said in a hushed tone.

Mina and Jeongyeon exchanged glances. “Should we hide?”

“Is there anywhere we can hide?”

“Wait . . .” Chaeyoung paced a few steps forward, peering around the corner and gasped. “Merlin’s beard. Is that Nayeon?”

/ / /

Meet me at the Red Salamander Pub in Hogsmeade on December’s new noon.

Florian’s crisp, clear instructions rang in Nayeon’s mind as she apprehensively shuffled through the darkness. Earlier in the week, Florian had requested to meet her in person. He explained that for one day, he’d be in Hogsmeade for business purposes. Though he wouldn’t elaborate as to what kind of business, he stated it was the perfect time for Nayeon deliver the potion ingredients. Nayeon was giddy with excitement.

She was so giddy, in fact, that on the day of December’s new moon, Nayeon skipped supper altogether to go meet him. She would’ve liked to have ditched her lessons, but she knew Professor Lee was keeping a close eye on her academics for her ‘career plan’; she couldn’t risk being absent.

As the rest of the school filed into the Great Hall during the evening, Nayeon plunged further and further down the underground tunnel. Steps heavy. Breaths heavy. Slung over her shoulder was a small bag holding the potion ingredients. The earth was muddy and damp beneath her feet, the air was chilly, and for some odd reason, the tunnel smelled oddly like onions. She didn’t have much choice, however. This secret passageway easily bypassed the castle wards and front gate, leading all the way to Hogsmeade. It was also the only one she knew of – thanks to Momo and her weird underground pastry ring.

By the time Nayeon reached the end, her face was hot and sweaty, her legs were sore, and she was panting. In her defense, exercising had never been her strong suit. Naturally, she now had to face possibly the most torturous enemy against the nonathletic: stairs.

Groaning loudly, Nayeon climbed and climbed and climbed. And then, she climbed even more! It felt like she had been climbing forever.

“I swear, my legs better look bloody fantastic after this,” she growled under her breath.

The staircase led to the cellar of Honeydukes, a very popular sweet shop in Hogsmeade. Wooden crates and boxes were stacked to the ceiling and aisles of shelves were filled to the brim with goodies. Nayeon fought her whining stomach as she passed by the colorful packaging.

Go on, it told her. Take them!

I can’t steal! It’s wrong, she argued.

How is this any different than stealing potions ingredients from Professor Lee? You skipped dinner and I’m hungry!

Nayeon hesitated. Her stomach had a point.

Before she could nick a box of chocolate frogs though, Nayeon heard a door creak open and a pair of footsteps creak down the stairs. She promptly dove behind a large crate. A bald man in an apron entered the cellar and went to the opposite wall, sifting through various products. His back was turned.

Quickly and quietly, Nayeon snuck out from behind the crate, bolted up the wooden stairs with her aching legs, and slipped out the cellar door.

There were a fair amount of people in Honeydukes, enough for Nayeon to blend in with the evening customers. No one noticed a teenage girl exiting the shop.

As she stepped out into the open air, a cold December wind hit Nayeon with a rush. She ducked her head, hair blowing wildly around her face, and hugged her thin cardigan against her body. Damnit, she cursed internally. She should’ve worn a heavier coat.

The Red Salamander pub was on the outskirts of the town; its front was worn-down like it had weathered through several hard years. Nayeon gulped nervously. She hadn’t expected the pub be so crooked; knowing Florian’s taste in fashion, she thought he would pick something a bit more . . . sumptuous.

Unlike Honeydukes, there wasn’t a single customer in the pub. Huh. Weird. Nayeon expected a pub to be packed on a Friday evening.

The red-headed barman glanced up at the sight of Nayeon and scowled. “No underaged children allowed,” he said gruffly.

Nayeon huffed and straightened her posture. Rude.

“I am seventeen, I’ll have you know,” she snapped. “A witch of age.”

“And you’re here to drink? Alone?” he asked, skeptically.

“Well, actually, I’m here to meet with someone . . .” The seventh-year shifted her feet. The emptiness was glaringly loud. Was Florian running late? Did he forget about their meeting? Or – Nayeon’s heart hammered inside her chest – what if Florian had led her on? What if he wasn’t going to show up at all?

She couldn’t stand the thought of being abandoned.

“Oh! Nayeon. Welcome.” A tall bedazzled man appeared from a small backdoor of the pub, sauntering gracefully toward the Slytherin girl with a warm smile. His lavender eyes were jarring in real life; a pale hue that seemed unnatural. He extended a white gloved hand. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person.”

Florian turned out to be a much more showier in person than he had been in a mirror reflection. The man standing before her sported a luxurious jacquard waistcoat dazzling in a rich plum shade, the hems embroidered with a starlight silver. Underneath he wore a satin pearl-white shirt with a few buttons undone; his tan skin glowed in the lantern light and complemented the dozens of colorful jewelry strung around his slender neck. His trousers were slim-fitted and pulled high at the waist, accentuating his legs which made him appear like a royal prince. As usual, his classic purple scarf was wrapped tightly around his forehead like a hairband and kept his perfectly quaffed pale locks in place. To top the outfit off, an expensive fur coat was perched on his shoulders like a cape.

It took a few moments for Nayeon to drink in everything. Her nerves from earlier slowly subsided, replaced by awe of the glamorous – very sophisticated – presence in front of her. She eagerly grasped Florian’s outstretched hand. “Likewise.”

The two went to a drab backroom: it was small, cramped, and filled with dozens of cobwebs. And really cold. There was no wind, but the air was absolutely freezing like winter had settled home here. Nayeon hugged herself as her teeth chattered frantically.

“Take this, my dear,” Florian hushed into her ear, gently placing his fur coat around her shoulders. Nayeon’s body was instantly filled with warmth, though she wasn’t sure if it was because of the coat or because Florian’s chivalry.

Florian led her to a single table within the room, sliding back a chair so she could sit down. On top of the table was a large briefcase with several locks clamped along the mouth. Nayeon wondered what could possibly be inside to necessitate such protection. Money, perhaps? Or, judging how Florian was a walking jewelry stand, perhaps there were extremely rare gems within the case. Was this for his business?

“So,” Florian clapped his hands together loudly. He was seated, leaning against the back of the chair and feet propped up on the table; the white polished wing-tipped boots a stark contrast against the charcoal black wood. “My ingredients.”

Hastily, Nayeon opened her bag and placed the ingredients on the table one-by-one. Florian observed her like a cat, eyes glittering. At last, Nayeon placed her final ingredient on the table.

“It seems that you are missing one,” he said quietly, leaning forward. His amethyst gaze turned several shades colder. His expression inscrutable. His body as still as a corpse. “My dear, I gave you a list of specific ingredients to retrieve and you came up one short.”

Nayeon flushed and abruptly slammed her hands on the table. “It was Yoo Jeongyeon!” she protested, anger rising in her voice. “We were in Professor Lee’s room together, and she took the liquid moonlight before I could!”

She did not include that the vial had initially been in her hands, and then extracted after Jeongyeon had humiliated her with a binding jinx.

But Florian seemed to sense that she wasn’t telling the complete truth. He tilted his head, questioningly. “Is that what happened? I cannot imagine that you would let such an important item slip under your nose, especially to someone like Jeongyeon.”

“W-well, of course not! I mean, I just . . . she just . . . ” Nayeon faltered, at a loss for words.

Florian let out a long, disheartened sigh and shook his head. “Perhaps I was wrong about you.” He didn’t say anything more, but the disappointment in his tone lingered in the air.

Nayeon watched in horror as Florian made his way to the rickety old doorway, opening it, and gestured her to leave.

No, no, no! This couldn’t be happening!

The room became suffocating: the frozen air chilled Nayeon’s blood, even beneath the thick fur coat, she could feel goosebumps rise like scales on her skin and the hair on her arms stand straight; her face paled; ran dry; barbed wired tightened her chest, squeezing every last breath out of her. Nayeon wanted to shrink right then and there. Shrink away in anguish. Shrink away in frustration. But most of all, shrink away in shame because she had failed the one person whom she wished to please.

“My dear, it is time for you to leave.”

The words slapped Nayeon across the cheek. It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command. Nayeon knew that the moment she walked out of that pub, Florian would be out of her life for good. She would be all alone again.

But she wasn’t going to let that happen.

“No . . . I will do better,” she said slowly, refusing to move from her spot. She straightened her posture, her voice gaining more and more confidence with each word. “I will prove myself. Give me another chance and I will succeed. I promise.”

Florian narrowed his eyes. “That is an awfully big promise to make.”

“I know.”

A beat of silence passed between the two. Nayeon’s hands were balled into tight fists by her side as she waited with bated breath for Florian’s response.

Finally, much to Nayeon’s relief, Florian smiled. “Your commitment is quite admirable.” The last word rolled off his lips like a soft, sweet purr, delighting the seventh-year. “I shall wait two full lunar cycles, starting today, for my liquid moonlight. You have until then to retrieve it. Does that sound like a deal?”

Roughly two months. Was that enough time? Nayeon wondered if Professor Lee had another shipment of liquid moonlight coming in or if she would have to find another way to get it. But those worries could wait. Nayeon was blessed with another chance to prove herself to Florian.

“Deal.”

To Nayeon’s surprise, something seared through her flesh as she shook hands with Florian. A weird circular symbol carved itself inside her wrist, the red lines hot and angry. At the center was a dark red circle. Nayeon gaped, confused.

“A little reminder,” he simply replied.

Nayeon nodded. “I won’t let you down,” she said firmly.

Florian smiled again. “No, you won’t.”

Then something briefly passed over Florian’s face: an ephemeral shadow of sickening bloodthirst and menace. His smile no longer seemed kind or charming, but rather a wicked, skeletal grin like the flesh had been stripped away and left his teeth exposed. But it had been so short-lived that Nayeon figured it meant nothing.

It must had been a trick of the light, she told herself.

Yes, that’s right. It was only a trick of the light.

Hogsmeade village was quiet when Nayeon left the Red Salamander. The air was still cold and clouds began to drift overhead, though Nayeon did not care. Florian had gifted her his expensive fur coat after her futile attempts to return it once their meeting was finished. The soft inner padding kept her nice and toasty against the stiff wind. Step by step, Nayeon’s feet trailed soft prints in the untouched snow – albeit unaware of such a feat. Her head was filled with commotion: mind swirling around questions and strategies on how she could redeem herself. She had to do better this time – be better – as long Yoo Jeongyeon didn’t –

“Nabongs!”

Nayeon froze. A dozen swear words pouring out of .

“Oi, Nayeon! Wait up! I know you can hear me!” Jeongyeon shouted, her voice getting closer and closer. Despite Nayeon’s efforts to speed walk away (she refused to exert any effort into running, especially in the snow), Jeongyeon caught up to her within moments. Curse those long legs!

“What do you want, Jeongyeon?” snapped Nayeon. Her blood pressure slowly starting to rise.

“Whoa. Chill. It’s just me.”

Ugh. That is exactly the reason why I am not chill! “Why are you even here?”

Jeongyeon’s expression flickered from confusion to annoyance in mere seconds. “What’s that supposed to mean? I could ask you the same thing: why the hell are you at Hogsmeade instead of at the castle?”

“Hmph! Like you deserve any answers.” Nayeon briskly turned her nose away, resuming her speed walking to gain as much distance between herself and the Gryffindor Captain.

Unfortunately, Jeongyeon wasn’t giving up. Once more, she chased after the seventh-year with her stupid long legs, yelling, “What are you hiding, Nabongs? Why won’t you talk to me like you used to? Is this because of the liquid moonlight? Look, I’m sorry that I used a binding spell on you, but you really left me with no other choice!”

Oh no she didn’t! Nayeon veered back to Jeongyeon, stomping up to the girl until their noses practically touched. “No choice? No choice?” She was fuming. “There is always a choice,” she growled, jabbing her index finger into Jeongyeon’s sternum.

Jeongyeon opened to object, but stopped as her eyes drifted to the fresh red mark on Nayeon’s wrist. The sixth-year stumbled back, shocked. “Y-you . . . your wrist . . . Nayeon . . .” There was something written in her expression that Nayeon couldn’t exactly pinpoint. It almost looked like recognition. “What have you done?”

Instead of answering, Nayeon whipped out her wand and made a slashing motion, shouting, “Petrificus Totalus!”

Immediately, Jeongyeon’s limbs were snapped together at her side and her jaw was locked shut. Her body dropped stiffly into the snow like a statue knocked over from its plinth. It was comical to see the Gryffindor girl fall face first to the ground. Comical, and utterly pathetic.

Nayeon strolled over to Jeongyeon and roughly rolled her over. Jeongyeon eyed Nayeon in horror. Blood trickled down from her nose in thin crimson streams. There was a red bump forming on her forehead. A muffled sound tried to escape her constricted lips.

A sweet sensation of satisfaction overcame Nayeon, cathartic even. Seeing Jeongyeon restrained in the same pitiful position she had once been in was absolutely gratifying. Yoo Jeongyeon totally deserved this.

Tell me, Florian, what would do you think of me now?

Leaning down close to Jeongyeon’s ear, Nayeon whispered: “You ask what have I done? I have made my choice.”

With a smug smile, she walked away – this time at normal pace – leaving a paralyzed Jeongyeon forsaken in the freezing snow.

/ / /

Nayeon’s sudden appearance had been quite a shock. Why was she here in Hogsmeade? Did she also take the tunnel? Where in the world did she get that fancy fur coat? However, as much as Chaeyoung and Mina wanted to stick around and find out, Jeongyeon reminded them that they had bigger matters at hand.

“Don’t worry,” she had said, “I’ll see what Nabongs is up to. You two go ahead to the pub.” She then took off before either of the younger girls could protest.

“I am worried though,” said Mina to Chaeyoung in a soft voice. “This doesn’t feel right. None of it does.”

Chaeyoung watched as Jeongyeon became smaller and smaller in the distance. “It’ll be okay, Minari. I’m sure everything is fine. Nayeon was probably playing hooky or something – you know, one time I heard she and Kim Jisoo ditched class for a singer they liked. Supposedly, the girl was in Hogsmeade and they tried to sneak out, but Professor Lee caught them.” Chaeyoung grabbed Mina’s hand when the prefect didn’t look convinced. “Besides, Jeong knows Nayeon the best. If there’s anyone who can find out what’s going on, it’s her.”

“Y-yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Chaeyoung puffed out her chest and grinned. “Of course, I’m right, Minari. When have I ever been wrong? C’mon, tell me!”

Mina blinked. “Do you seriously want me to answer that?”

“Er . . . on second thought, no. It’s okay . . . please don’t answer that.” Chaeyoung tugged a strand of blond hair as she chuckled nervously. She was sure Mina had a long list prepared just for specific situations like this.

Mina laughed at her answer. The prefect eased her shoulders and sighed. Her gaze rested on Chaeyoung’s face, weariness hiding behind those dark eyes. “Everything is going to be okay, right Chaeng?”

Chaeyoung squeezed Mina’s hand gently. “Yes, Minari. I am sure of it.”

The pub hadn’t changed much since Chaeyoung last visited: paint was peeling off the bruised walls, the chairs and tables were notched and scarred, and the yellow lights were hazy. There was a single poster tacked to the wall of the Ballycastle Bats Quidditch mascot: Barny the Fruit bat; its tiny scarlet body hovered above a large foaming tankard of butterbeer with the tagline I’m just batty about Butterbeer! That was new. But it was the only new thing Chaeyoung could pinpoint.

There were no customers in sight, not even at the bar, only the burly mustached bartender.

“Oh, it’s you two,” he said grumpily when he noticed them. “You shouldn’t have come back, you know. Eads is not a man you want to be involved with.”

“We didn’t have much of a choice,” replied Mina bitterly.

Redman grunted. He jutted a thumb towards the small room in the back. “Good luck,” he said grimly.

Chaeyoung practically dragged Mina across the pub floor, body jittering in excitement. This was it! They were moments away from getting her dragon!

“We meet again, sweethearts,” greeted Eads as the two entered the small backroom. He was seated: legs crossed and hands folded on top of the table. Naturally, he was dressed like a fashion diva, a pop of color glowing in the confines of gray. “I was wondering when you would appear. I was getting worried that you forgot about our deal.”

“As if!” said Chaeyoung. “I would never leave my dragon!”

On top of the table was Chaeyoung’s prize: the briefcase, open, with the crown jewels lying inside. The metallic sheen of the Aurorean Blackhide egg glimmered in the low light. Chaeyoung could almost hear the pulsing heartbeats of her baby dragon inside. Her fingers twitched in anticipation. A small greedy part of her wished she could have all of the eggs – how glorious would it be to share the company of not one, but three magnificent dragons? However, Chaeyoung knew Mina wouldn’t be on board. So, one dragon was fine . . . for now.

“Please sit,” he invited with his sickly sweet voice. “I believe you have something of mine if you want your dragon.”

Mina tentatively pulled out a neatly folded handkerchief from her coat pocket. Carefully, her trembling hands revealed the silver disk enclosed within the cloth.

Eads’s face stilled. His lavender eyes blazed. “At last,” he breathed, plucking the heirloom from the handkerchief, and cradled it between his fingertips.

“Now that you have your stupid heirloom, I want my dragon!” Chaeyoung demanded impatiently. “A deal is a deal!”

Eads smiled wryly. “You are correct. A deal is a deal.” He tucked the heirloom away in one of his fancy pockets, and then gestured to the briefcase. “The Aurorean Blackhide is all yours.”

With a snap of the fingers, a medium-sized blanket instantly appeared in his hands. The knitted fabric was charcoal black that shimmered with the shift of his movement; its stitches glazed a fiery gold as if magma bound the blanket together.

“This is a coal blanket,” he explained. “It is charmed to supply as much thermal heat as the user needs, no matter the temperature – which means that it can easily sustain an unhatched dragon.” Eads carefully wrapped the Aurorean Blackhide egg with the blanket, engulfing it in a sea of black. “As you can see, it does not burn you either, despite its heat levels. Perfectly fine for exposed human touch.”

“Whoa! Brilliant!” Stars shined in Chaeyoung’s eyes, thoroughly impressed. Eads seemed to have all of the cool magic-tech! Was the Black Market filled with these types of things? If so, Chaeyoung definitely wanted to know more!

The Black Market dealer handed the egg over to Chaeyoung’s eager outstretched arms. To his word, the blanket protected Chaeyoung and she was not burned. Instead, a warm sensation tingled in her palms like she was cupping a hot mug of cocoa; the warmth traveled from her hands, up her arms, spreading across every inch of her body until she no longer felt cold. Up close, the egg was bigger and heavier than she anticipated. She practically needed both arms to support it.

Suddenly the metallic sheen on the egg shell flickered like the aurora borealis lighting up the night sky, then doing it once more, in the rhythm of a pulse. Chaeyoung almost dropped her baby dragon in shock. “What was that?”

“When an Aurorean Blackhide nears its time to hatch, it will pulsate. This occurrence will become more frequent until the dragon starts to crack its shell,” Eads clarified. “I say that this fellow has a few more weeks before it fully hatches though.”

Mina frowned and folded her arms across her chest. “You seem to know a lot about a dragon species with very little information on it.”

Eads shrugged. “A good salesman must know his product. Years of dealing dragons eggs makes one a bit of an expert on various breeds.”

“Cool,” breathed Chaeyoung.

“No, not cool,” Mina hissed before returning her attention back Eads. “And does every single deal you make require someone to go on a dangerous quest to find lost family heirloom?”

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Did you not enjoy it? I thought it was a rather an imaginative arrangement – and quite appropriate for two students of Ravenclaw.” He spat out the House name like a curse.

“Of course we didn’t enjoy it,” said Mina angrily. “You sent us on a hunt with barely any hints! Do you know what we went through for that disk? We were almost knocked unconscious by a toxic potion – We almost fell to our deaths from a metal space trap – We were almost eaten by an acromantula! Did you know there was a humongous spider living inside our school?”

For a brief second, Eads was speechless. His face remained passive, undeterred by Mina’s words, but Chaeyoung noticed the quirk of his lip. The blink of his eye. The tautness of his body. He almost seemed surprised.

But that couldn’t be it. Eads had sent them on this mission in full confidence. He must’ve known the risks they were taking to get his heirloom!

And yet . . . Chaeyoung couldn’t shake this feeling of uncertainty.

“What does it matter when you succeeded in the end? The heirloom is in my possession and you have your egg – all is well!” said Eads, recomposing himself in a split second.

“What exactly is the heirloom?” asked Chaeyoung. “It looks like a silver medal from the Quidditch World Cup. Oh! Was one of your family members a professional Quidditch player?”

Eads chuckled. “I’ve told you before, this heirloom only holds precious meaning to my family. It is humble in its origins, and serves as a reminder to us of a legacy that is slowly fading.”

“That doesn’t answer the question,” said Mina.

“You want answers? If you had paid close attention, sweetheart, you would have your answers. The truth has always been right in front of you.”

Chaeyoung and Mina exchanged puzzled looks. What did he mean by that?

“Well, it is getting late, and our business is done. I shall take my leave now.” Eads waved his hand: the briefcase clamped shut – all of the locks clicking in place – and shot right into his grasp.

“Wait!” Mina shouted. “I still have more questions!”

“Adieu, sweethearts. Congratulations on retrieving my heirloom! We shall meet again when the moon rises!”

And with that, Eads disapparated.

Chaeyoung happily skipped in the snow as she and Mina left the pub. She twirled; she leapt; she pranced through the streets like an overenthusiastic child. The dragon egg was enfolded in the coal blanket and secure in her arms. It was late: the sky was overcast and heavy snow flurries were cascading down in the hum of the night. The shadowy hills of the Highlands loomed over the sleeping village like dormant monsters. Hogsmeade was barren, not a single soul in sight. Chaeyoung exhaled loudly, her breath a foggy cloud under the streetlights.

Pure bliss warmed up Chaeyoung’s body. She finally had her dragon! Oh, the joy! And even better, neither Chaeyoung or Mina was killed! Mission success!

She glanced over her shoulder and asked, “Isn’t this great, Minari?”

But Mina was not following Chaeyoung. She had stopped several paces behind, a solemn silhouette in a blur of white.

“Mina? Why aren’t you moving? Don’t you want to get back to the castle?” Chaeyoung frowned. Her small footsteps carried her back to her Housemate. As she got closer, Chaeyoung noticed the shadows cast on Mina’s face made her seem different – stranger – as if she couldn’t recognize her own Housemate.

“Do you remember the promise we made the day we first met Eads?”

Chaeyoung scrunched her nose, peeling back the weeks and months in her memory to that fateful day. “You wanted us to keep the deal a secret – I wasn’t to tell anyone about it,” she recalled. She then snorted, adding, “that didn’t last long.”

Mina did not share Chaeyoung’s amusement. She casted her gaze downward and took a deep inhale. “We made another promise too: after we completed the deal, we’d go our separate ways and never speak of this ever again.”

“I’m sorry? Come again?” Hmm . . . Chaeyoung’s memory was bit fuzzy on that part. They had made such a promise?

“Chaeyoung,” pleaded Mina, “you’ve known this was coming since the beginning.”

“B-but . . . this is the part where you tell me that the promise has been nullified, right?” Chaeyoung laughed nervously. “Right, Mina?”

When Mina did not reply, Chaeyoung staggered backwards, appalled.

The promise they made so many moons ago rang clear in her mind now: we’ll go our separate ways and never talk about this ever again. It didn’t seem such a big deal at the time because Chaeyoung wasn’t keen having a prefect sticking to her like glue. She only wanted Mina’s help to find the heirloom. But as time passed, Chaeyoung grew to like Mina. She liked Mina’s wittiness, her quick-thinking and sharp-tongue that had a surprising amount of sass; she liked Mina’s geeky side, especially when her eyes widened in excitement every time she figured out a clue or shared a useless fact with the group; she liked how Mina stood up for her values, despite that they were stiff and boring, Mina didn’t compromise for others. And she really liked how Mina totally broke stupid Bennett’s nose with a solid right hook. Heck! Chaeyoung even kind-of, sort-of liked Mina scolding her because it meant that Mina cared about her. Sure, the two didn’t see eye-to-eye on a lot of things – maybe most things – but Chaeyoung had found rare comfort with the prefect, one she realized she didn’t want to let go.

It dawned on Chaeyoung that Mina never had the same intentions though. She had meant to keep her promise after all this time. A friendship with an expiration date since the start.

“Chaeng . . . ” Mina reached out and brushed her fingertips against Chaeyoung’s cheek, but the third-year ducked away. “Chaeyoung,” she repeated, imploring.

Chaeyoung took a step back, a lump forming in . Her lip quivered. Her eyes stung. Her heart felt heavy. This can’t be happening.

Another step.

Chaeyoung, please.

Another step.

Mina kept calling her name. Soon the soft voice weakened and eventually melted with the wind.

One more step.

She was now running.

Chaeyoung leaned her head against a stone wall in exhaustion. Her chest heaved; it was difficult to catch your breath in the frozen night air.

She didn’t know how long or how far she ran away, she went wherever her feet carried her. Finally, she settled down in a quiet secluded corner of the village. Tucked behind a closed shop, Chaeyoung slumped down in the snow, unbothered that her entire bottom became wet. She peered upward to the night sky, greeted by the somber clouds.

Snow continued to fall.

Adjusting the egg in her lap, Chaeyoung reached in her jean pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper, unfolding it tenderly. Five smiling faces gazed back at her. It was a drawing of her, Mina, Dahyun, Jeongyeon, and Momo, standing together like a family portrait: the two oldest girls were in the back whilst the youngest were placed in the front. Chaeyoung traced over the colorful lines with her finger; she wasn’t the best artist when it came to drawing people, but she was able to pick out certain features or mannerisms that defined each girl such as Jeongyeon’s casual confidence or Mina’s shy smile. In the center of the picture, Chaeyoung held a small black baby dragon, looking delighted to be with its present company.

Chaeyoung sighed. This was supposed to a gift for Mina. She worked on it a few mornings ago, and had planned on giving it to the prefect after they got the dragon egg. A way to show her appreciation since the words thank you did not seem to encompass the gratitude she felt.

But now everything was pointless.

Mina wanted nothing to do with Chaeyoung anymore. It was just like getting kicked off the Ravenclaw Quidditch team all over again. Maybe worse. Because this time she thought someone from her House had finally seen her.

Hot angry tears rolled down her cheeks as Chaeyoung ripped her drawing apart, again and again: the happy faces disappearing with each tear. When she finished, she was left with a pile of scraps in her hands.

A stiff breeze ran by, and before Chaeyoung could react, her drawing was scattered into the dark night sky. Only one piece stayed behind.

Chaeyoung held the scrap up and examined it, her frustration waned. A small smile wavered on her lips.

/ / /

Prefect curfew duty wasn’t the most exciting job, but tonight Jihyo felt antsy so she was relieved she had an excuse to roam the hallways late in the night. For the most part, it was a quiet job: a few older students scampered across the cobbled stone, their arms filled with books and parchment, their faces frazzled with stress and sleep deprivation; once or twice, Jihyo ran into a lower year and reprimanded them for being out past curfew; and then, there was always the issue of dealing with Peeves the Poltergeist. Peeves usually calmed down at night because there was no one around to tease. But sometimes he got bored and thought banging pots and pans whilst singing at the top of his ghoulish lungs during the late hours was necessary. Jihyo disagreed. In fact, unsurprisingly, the whole school disagreed.

As Peeves’s screeching singing voice carried through the hallways, Jihyo shook her head, exasperated. She needed to find Slytherin’s House ghost, the Bloody Baron, if anyone was going to get rest tonight. Only he could stop Peeves’s ruckus.

Jihyo traveled down the dark corridors in search of the baron. When she was younger, she thought the castle was creepy at night: ghosts roaming around, portraits blinking awake every now and then, Filch and Mrs. Norris lurking in the corridors for students out of bed. Sometimes she thought she could even hear whispers through the stone walls.

But none of that scared her anymore. She maneuvered with ease, not a hint of fear in her heart.

When she approached the third-floor, she heard a weird noise down the hallway. Hoping it might be the Bloody Baron, Jihyo raced towards the sound. What she didn’t expect to see was the hump of the one-eyed witch yawn open to a hidden passageway.

Normally, Jihyo would’ve immediately investigated a mysterious secret tunnel in the back of a statue – partly out of curiosity, partly because as a prefect, it was her job to inspect these kinds of things. However, her gut told her to stay back and wait.

And damn was her gut onto something. Stepping out from the tunnel was none other than Son Chaeyoung. The younger girl’s lips were tinted blue, cheeks flushed, and her eyes were watery like she had recently spent too much time outdoors. Strangely, her hair and clothes were damp, and her shoes were covered in dirt too. Chaeyoung sniffed.

Jihyo raised an eyebrow as she zeroed in on a dark shimmering bundle secure in the Ravenclaw girl’s arms. It was hard to tell what it was exactly, Jihyo could only discern a round object underneath the shiny black cloth. Interesting.

Chaeyoung adjusted the thing in her arms, and glanced around to see if anyone was nearby. Jihyo readied herself to spring in front of the third-year and demand where the hell had she been, why the hell was she coming into the school this late, and what the hell was in her arms – until –

“PEEVES! You bloody scoundrel! Stop that annoying racket! I’ll get you, I will!” Filch’s angry shouts were heard a few corridors over.

Peeves’s maniacal laughter pierced the air. “TUT, TUT, TUT. A FICKLE OLD PICKLE, FILCHY WITH HIS ROARS! WHY BE SO LOUD AS THE WHOLE CASTLE SNORES?”

The interruption distracted Jihyo, momentarily, but when she turned her attention back to the statue, Chaeyoung was gone. Jihyo cursed at the bad timing.

“PEEEEVVEEESS!!”

“CAN’T CATCH MEEEEEE, FILCHY!”

With a resigned sigh, Jihyo resumed her search for the Bloody Baron. The sooner Peeves and Filch shut up, the better for everyone. She’d have to confront Chaeyoung later.

In the meantime . . . wait until Headmaster Park heard what she had to say.

END OF PART I: GETTING A DRAGON

A/n: Finally! Part I is finished! This was not supposed to come out so late, but hey, life has been hectic for all of us. I apologize though for the tardiness! I hope everyone is doing the best they can in times like this. Thank you, everyone, for your support and patience!! Please leave your thoughts about PART I below!! What were your favorite parts? What do you hope for the future (aside from ships lol)? WHAT WOULD YOU NAME THE DRAGON?? (Please help, I need suggestions). Also, what are your Hogwarts Houses? I'm curious to know!

I'll try to get the next chapters out soon! Cheers!!

See you all in PART II: RAISING A DRAGON :D