"What's the oaf up to, Fredericton? Got a little dragon breeding ring in his little hut does he?"

Flynn glanced lazily at Draco, who looked way too disheveled to pull off the casual intimidation that he was attempting. Though his hair was combed, and his robes were perfectly washed and pressed, the way that Draco sneered sideways at him, while he pretended to inspect his nails was a little too forced, and the tiredness behind his eyes was a little too obvious.

"The fuck are you talking about?" Flynn grumbled, trying not to be too aggressive and accidentally imply that he had anything to hide.

"I overheard Weasley talking about it the other day," Draco said, still pretending to inspect his nails and making Flynn think that he might not have any other 'casual pose' in his arsenal that he could use. "I didn't hear the exact details of it, but I heard enough. Perhaps you don't know this, since I can only assume someone of your bearing might consider yourself above the laws that bind us common folk, Lord Slytherin, but I would like to humbly advise you that owning a dragon is a very illegal thing to do. That oaf you like to associate with could go away to azkaban for a very long time for this."

Flynn stared blankly at Draco, wondering if he should feel annoyed, or to just feel pity at Draco's attempts to trick him. Even if the casual facade that the boy was putting up was unnatural as hell on its own, the fact that he had gone out of his way to wake up early to catch Flynn before he left, made it obvious that Draco had been planning for this since last night, and from the looks of it, he had barely slept. The fact that Draco was awake at this time in the first place made it obvious that he wasn't confident in his accusations, since he was trying to catch Flynn in a moment where they wouldn't be overheard by the other Slytherin boys who had their noise cancelling curtains draped around their four-poster beds.

"You got up early to tell me this?" Flynn grunted, pushing past Draco to go the shared washroom. Pulling out his toothbrush from the bag he kept under his robes, he started to brush his teeth, letting out a low groan of annoyance when Draco followed him inside.

"Go be a little bitch somewhere else," Flynn grumbled around his toothbrush.

"I know that the oaf has a dragon in his hut, Fredericton," Draco said, crossing his arms and leaning back against the door, as if he was trapping Flynn inside.

"Good for you," Flynn grumbled, still brushing his teeth.

"It seems that you don't quite understand what I'm saying, Fredericton, so let me spell it out for you," Draco said, as he started to inspect his nails yet again. "As someone who spends an unnatural time with that oaf, I suspect you might be considered an accomplice to that whole fiasco once the proper authorities are alerted of his crimes. While I admit, we may have our differences, in the end we are fellow housemates, are we not? I would hate for you to be implicated in such a thing."

"What the fuck are you going on about?" Flynn asked, before gargling some water and spitting it aggressively into the sink.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Draco twitching, before he went back to inspecting his nails.

"I'm saying, Fredericton, that you should join me in incriminating the groundskeeper," he said. "Under normal circumstances, I don't think that even my name would be enough to protect you from the full force of the law, but even though I have more than enough grounds to report this to my father, I'm giving you an opportunity. If you would be the one to report this incident to the authorities, I suspect that they would see less of a reason to punish you."

"Punish me for what, exactly?" Flynn asked, as he splashed his face with water a few times. Some of the water got on his robes, but he didn't mind. It would dry up soon anyways. In the mirror, he saw Draco's face twist up momentarily in an expression of anger and frustration.

"Are you stupid?" he asked, dropping the casual facade completely as he stomped his foot down against the bathroom tiles. "I'm talking about the dragon, you dense mudblood!"

It had been a while since Flynn had heard that word, long enough that he had almost forgotten what it was supposed to mean and how much offense he was supposed to take to it, but even when he remembered that it was a supposed slur, and that if he were back in Fredericton, he would have to beat up Draco on principle to protect his image from seeming too soft, he almost couldn't bring himself to care.

Flynn sighed and shook his head.

"Ron's dragon?" he asked.

"I'm not talking about him!" Draco hissed in an almost literal sense.

"Then say his fucking name," Flynn groaned. "You and all the pompous asshats in this school. There are at least three fucking Weasleys in this school. How the fuck am I supposed to know which one you're talking about?"

"It's none of them!" Draco said. "I'm talking about the dragon that that dumb oaf Hagrid is keeping in his shed!"

Flynn sighed, as disdainfully as he could manage.

"Didn't you say that you overheard a Weasley talking about his dragon?" Flynn asked, before shaking his head. "Don't answer that. I don't give enough of a shit to actually try and keep track."

Draco glared at Flynn before letting out a heavy huff and going back to inspecting his nails.

"Oh, I see," he said, tilting his head back to try and look up his nose at Flynn, though with their height difference it ended up looking ridiculous. "You're playing dumb. I have to say, it's not a befitting look for someone of your pedigree, Lord Slytherin."

Flynn sighed and shook his head again.

"Look, bitch," he said. "I don't give enough of a shit to go along with whatever you're playing here, so either shut the fuck up or go fuck yourself."

Flynn didn't bother to wait for a response before he reached past Draco and pulled open the door. For a second, he thought that Draco might try to lean against the door to stop him from opening it, but the blonde bitch only let out an indignant yelp and scuttered away from the door's path. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Draco giving him a glare, but he ignored it and stepped out of the bathroom, wasting no time in leaving the shared dorm room.

Flynn let himself frown when he left the Slytherin dorm. He knew how little of a threat Draco was on a regular basis, which meant that he was also certain that Draco was too much of a coward to do anything against Hagrid unless he had absolute proof that the dragon existed, but the fact was that Draco had suspected Hagrid of hoarding a dragon.

Flynn didn't know what was the correct course of action that he could take was to protect Hagrid, his only source of exercise in this godforsaken school, but he knew that this early in the morning there wasn't much he could do. While Flynn didn't know Hagrid's exact schedule, he knew that his groundskeeper's duties usually started before dawn, and that he wouldn't be in his hut at this time.

Not knowing how he could even try to find Hagrid, Flynn went down to the Great Hall for breakfast, not seeing any sense in thinking about this on an empty stomach.

Though there were only four older students and McGonagall who were eating breakfast, a large amount of plates floated lazily around the hall. When Flynn walked inside, one plate in particular seemed to twitch before making its way towards him. Flynn ignored the plate as it eagerly circled around his head, until he sat down and snatched it out of the air. Piling the entire plate of omelettes onto his plate, he casually threw the floating plate aside before he started to eat.

He managed to finish the omelettes before any other students came in, and with the only non-packageable part of his breakfast finished, a swarm of plates gathered around him, offering him their contents. He grabbed whatever he could fit into his pockets, and walked out of the Great Hall, eating a small breakfast wrap as he did.

As he walked down the hall, Flynn considered what to do about the Draco problem, when he wondered if his earlier assumption about Hagrid being away from his hut was actually true. Though it was true that his usual groundskeeper's duties would have him leave the hut around this time, he had a newborn dragon to take care of, and even without considering the fact that it might burn down his house if left unattended, with how infatuated Hagrid had been with the ugly thing, Flynn doubted that he would leave it alone for even a second.

Even if Hagrid wasn't there, it was still a better option to go there than to wander the castle grounds aimlessly in hopes of stumbling into him, so Flynn made his way to the hut.

Immediately, as soon as he was able to see the hut in the distance, he also saw the lazy clouds of smoke that emanated from the top of it. Though a moment of panic ran through him at the idea that the hut might actually be burning, at a closer look, he realized that he was coming out of the chimney.

Confident that Hagrid was there now, Flynn walked quickly towards the hut, making sure he wasn't being followed or watched. He frowned when he noticed that all of Hagrid's curtains were opened, but with how dark it was inside the hut, the glare of the sun made it difficult to see inside at the very least.

Still, he couldn't help but feel annoyed at how little self-preservation Hagrid had, before he grabbed the door and pulled it open without bothering to knock.

Though Fang didn't even react to Flynn's entrance, Hagrid let out a startled yell and put his hand over his heart, before he realized who had just come in.

"Flynn!" he said. "Ye scared me there."

"You should be more scared," Flynn growled, before he started to walk around the room, pulling the curtains shut.

"What are ye talkin bout, Flynn?" Hagrid said, with a frown. "And why are ye closin all the curtains?"

"There's a student that suspects you have a dragon, and wants to report you on it. Send you to something called azkaban," Flynn said gruffly, answering the two questions at the same time. "Doesn't seem like he's got enough dirt on you to actually do it, but that might change if he actually sees it."

Hagrid paled almost immediately.

"Oh no, that's bad," he muttered. "Who?"

"Draco Malfoy," Flynn answered.

To his surprise, even though he hadn't expected him to know the name of a random first-year student, Hagrid let out a low pained moan and shook his head.

"Malfoy," he muttered. "Can't say I'm surprised. Dark wizards the lot of them are."

Flynn didn't know what to say in response, expecting that Hagrid was mostly talking to himself, but before he was given the option, there was a loud screech and a thud as the small dragon on Hagrid's table bit at the metal bucket of chicken blood and brandy that Hagrid had laid down beside it. Though the bucket was too tall for the dragon to drink out of, it managed to catch its teeth against the rim of the bucket and bend it slightly.

"Oh, don't worry, Norbert," Hagrid said. "It's okay. Mummy's a little sad, but it's not your fault."

The dragon screeched again and pulled at the edge of the bucket but was unable to tip it over.

"Just keep your curtains closed and it should be fine for now," Flynn said, turning away from Hagrid as he cried fat tears onto the dragon's table, the sight of it making him feel uncomfortable for some reason. "But you should think of a way to stay out of jail. I'd be pretty annoyed if I got fat again with you gone."

"Fanks, Flynn," Hagrid said, before blowing his nose loudly on his shirt. "Tha's sweet of ye te say."

Flynn frowned, but refused to acknowledge what he said in any other way.

"What about the headmaster?" he asked, blurting out the first thing he could think of to change the subject.

"What about him?" Hagrid asked.

"You think he could give you special right to take care of the dragon?" Flynn asked. "Owning a dragon's illegal now, but I can only assume it wasn't always the case, or there wouldn't be books written about it. I don't know much about it, but back home, the local government exploited a bunch of old laws that only worked because there were some historical sites or whatever. I think they embezzled a bunch of the money that went into it, but point is that this school is old as shit. Might be able to get something out of it."

Hagrid's brow furrowed in confusion at what Flynn said, which was understandable since Flynn barely understood what he was saying himself. He knew that there was some sort of fuckery that could be pulled when it came to historical sites from the ranting that Tom did about the Fredericton community centre and its permanent state as a crackden for the homeless, but he didn't really understand it himself. Still, from the hopeful look in Hagrid's eye, he didn't want to admit that he had no idea if his suggestion had any actual merit.

"Look, I don't know the details, but all I'm saying is that the magics seem to like to live in the past, or at least Hogwarts does. I haven't seen a single fucking lightbulb in this goddamn castle, and the History teacher's a fucking ghost, for fuck's sake," Flynn said, saying whatever came to mind without even thinking about it. "And the fucking forest has all sorts of endangered magical creatures doesn't it? Why wouldn't they let you raise a dragon long enough that it could survive on its own there?"

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

"I dunno, Flynn," Hagrid said, though he didn't sound sure of himself.

"Well, if you've got a better idea, I'd love to fucking hear it," Flynn said, practically growling in annoyance and frustration at this point. "But I'm not letting you just fucking give up. If I'm going to lose my only source of consistent exercise, it won't be for the sake of a ugly fucking sentient trashbag."

The dragon hissed at him, as if understanding the insult, but Flynn growled back at it.

It took a surprising amount of yelling at Hagrid before he could convince him to quit being such a pussy and just take the chance to talk to the headmaster. Hagrid had tried to think of multiple reasons for why it was a bad idea, but none of his arguments were strong enough for Flynn to back off, and he seemed to accept the idea, promising to go to Dumbledore as soon as he could get the dragon to take a nap.

Though Hagrid wasn't as enthusiastic Flynn might've hoped, he had to admit that Hagrid was right and that there was no chance that he should leave the dragon alone in his hut when it was awake, unless he wanted to come home to a burnt down hut. Flynn tried glaring at the dragon, as if he could will it to fall asleep, but when it only hissed at him, spitting a jet of flame towards him that was almost double the size of the one that it had tried to spit at him yesterday, he realized he was only agitating it.

With nothing he could feasibly do to make the dragon fall asleep faster, he reminded Hagrid to let Fang out before leaving to consult Dumbledore, just in case the dragon woke up in the middle of its nap and burnt down the hut, and headed off to his first class for the day.

The first class of the day was Defense with the Ravenclaws, which was uneventful as always, but when he made his way to the dungeons for Potions with the Gryffindors, he couldn't help but glare when he noticed a familiar trio of idiots talking with a familiar blonde bitch a short distance away from the door to Snape's class.

"We have no idea what you're talking about, Malfoy," Harry said, glowering at the blonde bitch with an intense look in his eyes that completely masked the lie he was telling. Unfortunately, Draco didn't even seem concerned with him, as his eyes flitted towards Hermione and Ron instead, who had a stiff, thin-lipped expression and an unmasked look of abject horror respectively.

"That's quite odd," Draco said, his voice conveying as much of a sneer as his mouth did. "I could've sworn I heard Weasley screaming something about a dragon. Perhaps I should get my ears checked, if you're so insistent that I misheard somehow."

"Maybe you should," Harry said. "Though I'll say now that I could name about a dozen more things that are wrong with you. Might as well get a full check-up while you're at it."

Though Draco's smile twitched, the haughtiness in his expression refused to fade in the slightest.

"I'll take that into consideration, Potter," he said. "Maybe I'll include that in my letters to my father. I write to him often you know, mostly to update him on the… current ongoings at Hogwarts. It might seem trivial, but I do quite enjoy it, though I suppose I shouldn't rub it in your face too much, given the fact that your parents couldn't be bothered to write to you."

"Harry, no!" Hermione shouted, grabbing Harry's robes as he lunged towards Draco with his fists raised. Despite Harry being slightly smaller than her, she seemed to struggle with holding him back.

Draco flinched at Harry's sudden aggression, stepping back a few paces in reaction, but quickly gathered his wits, sneering at Harry before looking down his nose at him.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I strike a nerve?" he asked.

"Sod off, Malfoy," Ron said, as he stepped in front of Harry, his previous terror at having been overheard being replaced completely by anger. "Get out of here before I hurt you."

Though Flynn had the urge to punch everyone there at least once, he couldn't help but assume that Draco had likely chosen this specific spot so that any conversation he had wouldn't be overheard by the people in the Potions classroom, but it was still close enough that Snape would definitely be able to hear a fight. With any trace of Hagrid's dragon gone from the conversation, completely forgotten in favour of holding a pissing contest of insults, Flynn saw no reason to participate and simply walked towards the Potions classroom.

As soon as he opened the door, he heard Ron's roar echoing behind him, making the students who had already sat down jump in surprise, and Snape scowl in the direction of the door.

Flynn let the door close behind him and walked inside to sit down next to Blaise, who glanced back at the door and gave him a questioning look, but Flynn refused to give him an explanation. Snape seemed content with waiting for a few more seconds to see if the problem would just go away if he ignored it, but after a few seconds passed, and the sounds of muffled violence could still be heard through the door, he let out an angry huff and stood up.

"Be silent and do not touch anything," he said, as he left the room.

It took several minutes for Snape to come back, and when he did, it was with a scowl on his face, and a distinct lack of Draco or any of the trio. Though there was a palpable sense of curiosity in the air, the deep scowl on Snape's face made it so nobody in the room was brave enough to ask.

If Snape seemed more bitter than usual during the next lesson, nobody mentioned it, even though it was admittedly difficult to ignore the way that Neville sobbed openly. With Harry being gone, it seemed like all of his petty anger was being channelled into the sobbing Gryffindor, resulting in his potion blowing up in his face more than a few times.

Flynn went to visit Hagrid after Potions, and was glad to see that the curtains were shut. Before he could try the door, Fang walked up to him and inspected him for a moment before letting out a big yawn and walking away a few steps before laying down on a large stone that had been warmed up by the sun.

Realizing that Fang being out of the hut probably meant that Hagrid was out and the dragon was sleeping, Flynn decided not to try the door, not wanting to risk waking the dragon if Hagrid was actually out.

Not wanting the hut to burn down while Hagrid was gone, and not having anything better to do with lunch break, Flynn decided to stick around until either the lunch break was over or until Hagrid came back. With the ground being wet from the still melting snow, Flynn sat down next to Fang on his rock, to which the big dog let out a small huff, but scooted over to give Flynn some space.

Not wanting to waste the idle time, Flynn pulled out A Theory of Potions from his bag and started to read. While he usually focused most of his attention on A Theoretical Guide to Crafting Spells, he usually liked to jot down notes as he read, and he couldn't do that without a proper surface to write on, and the recent Potions class made it so the subject was fresh in his mind regardless.

Flynn spent most of his time reading, eating his lunch, and pushing Fang's face away whenever he started to sniff too close to his pockets, while he waited for Hagrid's return.

When he spotted movement from the corner of his eye across the courtyard, he looked up, hoping it was Hagrid, but frowned when he vaguely recognized the silhouettes of two very annoying Gryffindors headed in his direction.

Shutting his book and putting it back in his pockets, he continued to munch on his chicken as he kept one hand on Fang's head, pressing him down preemptively so he wouldn't try to steal his food. Though he kept a sharp eye on Hermione and Harry as they approached, they only seemed to notice him once they were only a few dozen feet away from him.

"What are you doing here?" Harry said, with some suspicion in his voice when he got close enough that he could be heard without yelling.

Harry didn't seem to notice the annoyed look that Hermione gave him from behind, but Flynn was more than happy to glare at him in her stead.

"What the fuck does it look like I'm doing?" Flynn asked.

"Have you seen Hagrid?" Hermione asked, cutting into the conversation before Harry could say anything.

"He's out," Flynn said.

Hermione and Harry's eyebrows shot up, before Harry muttered under his breath.

"But Malfoy's in the Hospital Wing!" he said. "How did he manage to report Hagrid?"

"The fuck are you talking about?" Flynn asked. "I said he was out, not in fucking jail."

"Oh," Harry said.

There was a long silence that passed between them, one that Flynn filled by finishing his sandwich, swallowing the rest of it down, before he glared at the duo.

"Why the fuck are you here?" he asked.

"We wanted to speak to Hagrid," Hermione said. "We wanted to warn him about Malfoy. It seems like he knows about the dragon, somehow, and Hagrid could get into some serious trouble if he's not careful."

Somehow, she said. The thought was almost funny as it was infuriating, though Flynn didn't feel much like laughing.

"Somehow?" he asked. "You don't think your dumbass friend was the one to tip him off? Ron should learn to shut his fucking mouth, or someone will eventually do it for him."

"Ron wouldn't tell Malfoy about the dragon," Harry said, visibly bristling with his fists clenched by his sides. "How do we know you didn't tell Malfoy about it? You are a Slytherin, after all."

"Harry!" Hermione shouted, but the apologetic expression on her face did nothing to quell the anger that started to gather in Flynn's body, rising to his head and buzzing in a quiet static.

Flynn started to clench and unclench his fists subconsciously before Fang let out a low grunt and wriggled free from under his palm. Fang gave him a little headbutt against his shoulder before huffing and shifting around on the rock and sitting back down.

Flynn glared at Fang, but the dumb dog didn't give him a second glance as he laid on his side and kicked out his legs so they were resting on Flynn's lap.

Flynn growled at the dog, but once it became obvious that he wouldn't move unless Flynn pushed him away, he stopped, not wanting to waste the energy when there was a much more deserving target for his annoyance.

Glaring up at Harry, he scoffed at the dumb look on the boy's face.

"Ron's fat fucking mouth was what tipped Draco off," Flynn said.

"You take that back," Harry said.

"What, you don't think I'm fucking right?" Flynn asked. "You're as dumb as you are deaf if you don't realize that your boyfriend doesn't understand the fucking concept of whispering. If he wants to learn, I suggest he starts small by just shutting the fuck up for once in his fucking life."

"He's not that bad," Harry said, though he pursed his lips as he said it. "Besides, we still don't know for sure that you didn't tell Malfoy in the first place."

"And you never fucking will," Flynn said. "But if you had half a fucking brain, you'd realize that if I were working with Malfoy, the three of you fuckers would be out of this fucking school by now, rotting in azkaban or whatever the fuck that place is called. I was in the fucking hut when the fucking dragon hatched out of its fucking egg, remember? Or does your tiny fucking brain just not have enough space to remember shit that happened yesterday?"

Harry scowled, but didn't say anything as a quiet flush of anger rose to his face. He seemed to struggle with thinking of a response, and Flynn kept his scowl fixed on Harry's until he noticed something out of the corner of his eye and couldn't help but be distracted by it.

It wasn't every day he saw a man as big as Hagrid skipping, after all.

He managed to shake himself away from the strangely hypnotic sight, standing up despite the yelped protests of Fang, who had apparently somehow fallen asleep with his legs still in Flynn's lap and started to walk away.

Harry seemed like he wanted to say something to stop him, but Flynn walked past him without another word, not bothering to even give him a spare glance.

"Flynn!" Hagrid shouted out happily, as he got close to him.

"Hagrid," Flynn responded, though he didn't bother to stop to talk.

Hagrid stopped skipping for a moment as Flynn walked past him, but the casual dismissal didn't seem to be enough to get his spirits down as he continued to skip towards his hut a few seconds later.

"'Arry! 'Ermione! What are you lot doin' over here? Don't ye got classes te go to?" Hagrid said, with a booming laugh.

Flynn didn't manage to hear their responses, being too far away to hear them, even if he could hear Hagrid's booming voice just fine. Regardless, it was obvious what Hagrid was so happy about, and even if he wasn't sticking around to hear the details, he didn't really care to know about them.

His source of exercise was safe, and that was all that really mattered.