The days passed swiftly, and Rufus Scrimgeour's anticipation grew with each one. The letter from Charlie Weasley had marked the beginning of something extraordinary, and now, the moment was upon him. The Romanian Dragon Conservatory’s team would be arriving at the Ministry to finalize the details of acquiring a dragon—an ambitious project that would cement Scrimgeour’s power and influence.
On the day of their arrival, Rufus sat at his desk, his eyes flickering toward the clock on the wall. It was nearly time. Clara had informed him that the dragon handlers had been granted clearance and were on their way to his office.
A knock at the door snapped him out of his thoughts. “Minister, Mr. Weasley and his team have arrived,” Clara announced.
“Show them in,” Rufus replied, his voice steady but betraying a hint of excitement.
The door swung open, and in walked Charlie Weasley, accompanied by two other handlers from the Romanian conservatory. Charlie, with his rugged, weathered appearance, was immediately recognizable, his freckled face and red hair standing out. He extended his hand to Rufus with a firm handshake, his dragon-hide gloves still on, the symbol of a man who had spent years in the company of some of the world’s most dangerous creatures.
“Minister Scrimgeour,” Charlie greeted him with a smile. “It’s a pleasure to be here.”
“Likewise,” Rufus replied, motioning for them all to sit. “I trust your journey went smoothly?”
“Smooth as can be when you’re dealing with dragons,” Charlie said with a chuckle, though his tone was serious. “We’ve scouted the location as requested, and we have a lot to discuss. Handling dragons isn’t something to take lightly.”
Rufus nodded, leaning forward. “I understand the risks, but I also know the rewards. Let’s begin with the basics. What exactly will we need to accommodate a dragon?”
Charlie’s expression grew more serious as he pulled out a thick scroll, unrolling it on Rufus’s desk. It was a detailed map of the Romanian Conservatory, showing areas designated for different dragon species, complete with containment spells and protective wards. He tapped the map with his wand, and it shimmered to life, the diagrams glowing faintly as they expanded.
“First, you’ll need a large, open area,” Charlie began. “Dragons need space. A fully grown dragon can have a wingspan of up to 50 feet, and some of the larger breeds are even bigger. You’ll need containment wards—powerful ones—because dragons have a tendency to break through normal protections. Standard magical barriers won’t hold.”
Rufus nodded, taking mental notes as Charlie continued. “You’ll also need to consider the type of dragon. Different breeds require different environments. For example, a Hungarian Horntail—one of the most dangerous and aggressive species—needs a lot of heat. They thrive in volcanic regions. Their flames are some of the hottest you’ll encounter, and their spikes can penetrate nearly anything.”
Charlie conjured an image of the Horntail in the air. It was a massive dragon, its scales gleaming like black iron, with a row of jagged spikes running down its back. The creature let out a silent roar in the projection, flames erupting from its mouth.
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“This is the breed used in the Triwizard Tournament,” Charlie explained. “Dangerous, unpredictable, but highly powerful. If you want intimidation and strength, a Horntail would be your choice. But they require the strictest handling.”
Rufus examined the image, intrigued but also aware of the dangers. “And the alternatives?” he asked.
Charlie waved his wand, and the image shifted to show a different dragon. This one had emerald-green scales and was more slender than the Horntail, its eyes gleaming with intelligence.
“The Common Welsh Green,” Charlie said. “Less aggressive than the Horntail, but still a formidable creature. They prefer quieter environments—forests, specifically—and their fire is less intense but still lethal. Welsh Greens are also more trainable, though you can never fully control a dragon.”
Rufus considered this for a moment. “A Welsh Green might be more manageable. But tell me more about the breeds you deal with at the conservatory.”
Charlie nodded and continued, conjuring another dragon—this one massive and crimson, with long horns curling back from its head.
“The Chinese Fireball,” Charlie said with a grin. “One of the most visually striking dragons you’ll ever see. They’re known for their golden eggs and their ability to create fireballs instead of streams of flame. They’re less aggressive toward humans but still highly dangerous. Their fireballs can melt solid rock.”
Rufus’s eyes flickered with interest as the glowing red dragon swirled in front of him. “Fascinating. And the Romanian Longhorn? I’ve heard they are quite revered.”
Charlie’s face lit up with pride as he conjured the image of the Romanian Longhorn—a dragon with shimmering bronze scales and long, golden horns that curved like a ram’s.
“Ah, yes,” Charlie said. “The Romanian Longhorn. They’re rare and highly coveted. Their horns are used in a lot of advanced potions, and they have a unique flame—hot but also controlled, making them ideal for certain magical tasks. They’re more docile than most dragons, but still, they’re not to be underestimated. We house several at the conservatory.”
Rufus leaned back in his chair, absorbing the information. “And how exactly do we ensure these creatures remain... manageable?”
Charlie exchanged a look with his colleagues, then addressed Rufus. “It comes down to a mix of magic and experience. Dragon handlers are trained from a young age to deal with them. We use specialized spells to calm them—usually temporary, because no dragon can be fully tamed. You’ll need experienced handlers on staff, day and night. And food... Dragons eat a lot. Typically, livestock—cows, sheep—depending on the breed. But you’ll need to ensure a steady supply.”
The logistical challenges were daunting, but Rufus was undeterred. He had long believed that with the right resources, anything was possible. “I’m willing to make the necessary arrangements. The Ministry will back this project fully.”
Charlie looked at him for a long moment before nodding. “If you’re serious about this, Minister, then we can make it happen. But I’ll be honest—once you bring a dragon into your operations, it changes everything. Dragons are magnificent creatures, but they don’t care about politics or power. They care about survival.”
Rufus smiled, though there was a steeliness in his eyes. “Then we’ll make sure survival is in their best interest.”
Charlie’s expression softened slightly, and he extended his hand again. “In that case, I’ll get started on the preparations. We’ll have a dragon ready for transport within the next month, but I’ll need regular updates on the location and security.”
Rufus shook his hand firmly. “You’ll have everything you need. This is going to be a new chapter for the Ministry. One of strength.”
As Charlie and his team stood to leave, Rufus felt a thrill of anticipation. The dragons were coming. And with them, his influence would rise to new heights. Nothing—no force, no individual—would stand in his way.
The path was clear.