The dragon's question hung in the air like a blade poised to fall.
Filch stood frozen under the dragon's golden gaze. His burgundy hair fell across his face, plastered with sweat despite the cool night.
"Would you like to work with me?" the dragon repeated.
Filch's lips twitched. When he finally spoke, his voice was very calm. "Tempting offer, really. But first... I would need to ask for other benefits. You see I have worked without benefits for long enough."
The dragon tilted its head and its smile widened fractionally. "Amusing. I appreciate your humor."
"Yeah, well," Filch continued, eyes scanning for any possible escape route, "my last employer was a real bastard. Beat me daily, starved me, threatened to kill me sometimes... he was a real piece of work." He paused, then gestured at the corpses littering the street around them.
