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The moment he stepped out of the castle—
"Will you take me back to the wizarding world?"
The dragon lying outside lifted its massive head and regarded him curiously.
It had no choice but to accept Morgan's decree that it now belonged to Ian, even allowing the boy to carve a few binding runes into its scales. Yet, strangely enough, it wasn't particularly resentful or resistant.
"The wizarding world has changed a lot. You could visit Hogwarts, help me deal with a few enemies. Nothing too drastic— just stand behind me and look intimidating most of the time," Ian suggested. He preferred to establish a partnership with the last of the ancient dragons rather than enslave it, even if he could.
"Of course! I can back you up... or bite your enemies to death," The massive dragon offered, startlingly cooperative.
Its personality was an amusing contrast to its fearsome appearance, more of a talker than a tyrant. The detailed expressions on its reptilian face, more pronounced than even Snape's, hinted at a wistful sort of nostalgia.
"My skeleton must be spectacular. If you like, I could even help teach young wizards. You know, back when I was alive, I rather fancied becoming Hogwarts' first Dragon professor."
Far from the lazy creature Morgan had made it out to be, the dragon had ambitions.
"I was the one who regularly cleared the Black Lake and the Forbidden Forest. Gryffindor called me a caretaker, while Slytherin reckoned I had the makings of a proper professor."
"But in the end, he was just stringing me along. By the time I died, he still hadn't granted me the title. Honestly, who would've thought a human could outlive a dragon?"
Ian's ears perked up at that.
"Wait— Slytherin lived a long time?"
That certainly wasn't mentioned in Hogwarts: A History or Hogwarts: Hidden Secrets, both of which detailed the later years of the Founders.
"Oh, absolutely. He must have brewed some kind of elixir for longevity. I was quite the potioneer myself, and I knew such things existed even back then."
The dragon didn't seem to notice the way Ian's eyes gleamed with interest. It probably had never encountered a Dementor before, so it spoke with a certain pride, boasting about its expertise in potion-making.
"A potion made from golden apples to grant eternal youth..." Ian murmured, intrigued not only by the dragon's wealth of knowledge but also by this unexpected revelation about Salazar Slytherin.
Could it be that Voldemort's use of Horcruxes was merely an imitation of some far older practice?
Morgan had once mentioned that she had destroyed every golden apple tree she could find in her time.
"He didn't exactly live well for long," the dragon added with a derisive snort. "By the end, his teeth had fallen out, and he could barely walk. Honestly, if I'd tried a little harder, I think I could've outlasted him."
"How long did he outlive you?" Ian pressed.
"Oh, only by about ten days." The dragon's voice carried the weight of absolute certainty. It had, apparently, seen Slytherin one last time before its own death.
"You weren't hatched at Hogwarts, were you?" Ian finally voiced something that had been nagging at him. By all logic, the lifespan of a pureblooded ancient dragon should have been staggeringly long. And even today, the hybrid dragons in the wizarding world often lived as long as, if not longer than, wizards.
"Of course not. Otherwise, Slytherin certainly wouldn't have outlived me..."
The ancient dragon, perhaps having had no one to converse with for centuries, seemed more than willing to share the story of its capture.
"I had already lived for a very long time before I came to Hogwarts. Unlike my more troublesome kin, I had always been fond of learning, even before I ever saw a wizarding school."
"Other dragons would steal away human princesses and hoard treasures, but I? I loved reading. That's probably one of the reasons I became the last pureblood dragon."
"I still remember— it was a warm and pleasant afternoon. I was reading, as usual. The books were all borrowed, and my saliva served as payment for the lending fee."
Ian's eyebrows twitched. 'Saliva?'
"As a law-abiding dragon, I never expected to be the target of adventurers looking for glory. But one day, the four founders of Hogwarts came for me— like the heroes from those tales, and I? I was the beast in their legend. It was terrifying. I had read The Causes of Death for dragons, you know."
The dragon lying on the ground shuddered at the memory, its massive features betraying a look of genuine fear.
"I thought I was about to become yet another statistic in that book. But fortunately, Miss Hufflepuff was a remarkably kind and reasonable witch."
"She listened to my story and chose to accept me. Miss Ravenclaw, too, thought I would make a fine guardian beast, and so I became Hogwarts' very first student."
"As a token of gratitude, I led them to challenge another dragon— helping them complete the adventure they were so determined to undertake. That dragon was a wretched brute, always tormenting me, and it made its lair in Anglia..."
The ancient dragon's voice carried a wistful note, and Ian's eyes widened slightly.
That sounded suspiciously like betrayal.
"Wait. You mean to say... they slaughtered another dragon?"
Ian knew he was hearing about Hogwarts: Unrecorded Secrets. If he ever managed to write it all down, he might just become a best-selling author and make a fortune.
"Well, after that, I became the last dragon in the world," The dragon muttered, shifting its enormous eye slightly to the side— a movement impossible for Ian to miss, given that the eyeball was larger than him.
"You're... rather clever, aren't you?"
Ian couldn't help but admire its survival instincts.
The idea of better them than me had never been more evident. Realizing it had let something slip, the ancient dragon immediately tried to justify itself.
"It wasn't my fault! That dragon was evil, truly! It had done unspeakable things, and worse yet— it tried to force me into a mating bond!"
The dragon's voice rose indignantly, its great nostrils flaring. Even after all these centuries, its emotions on the matter were still raw— and not without reason.
"We were both male dragons!"
A cry of anguish that could stir sympathy from even the most stone-hearted wizard.
It seemed that the lands of Anglia had their own... peculiar traditions— ones that had endured across the ages and, apparently, transcended species.
"Did it ever succeed?"
Ian's sharp and unconventional focus never failed. His question made the ancient dragon's eyes bulge, and its next breath was so forceful that Ian was nearly sent tumbling backward.
"OF COURSE NOT!"
Perhaps that was the truth. But it didn't stop Ian's imagination from running rampant. After all, only the dragon itself knew what had truly happened.
"Regardless, that despicable creature got what it deserved, and I remained at Hogwarts..." The dragon, after reasserting the righteousness of its actions, sighed as it reflected on its past. "I was the last dragon. And after my time ended, my four professors became the last legends of their era."
The confidence in that statement made Ian arch an eyebrow.
"How do you know there won't be any more legends in the future?"
Ian had a suspicion, but he needed confirmation from someone who had seen the rise and fall of ages.
"Becoming a legend isn't just about fame. It's a realm beyond human reach which is far more difficult to attain than mere greatness. And slaying a dragon is a necessary step on that path."
"Bathing in our blood, absorbing the innate magic within— it allows a wizard to break past their limits. Only then does the path to legend truly appear," The ancient dragon explained.
Its words confirmed Ian's suspicions and explained why human wizards had always sought to hunt dragons together.
"This is… truly rare knowledge."
(To Be Continued…)