When Myths Meet Magic || 4

14|| Nico

"Ah, Harry! Nicolas! Good-o!" Bagman exclaimed happily as Harry and Nico entered. "Come in, come in, make yourself at home!"

"My name's not Nicolas," Nico said with a sort of undertone warning in his voice. "It's just Nico."

"Of course, Nico," Bagman said hastily. "Right. Now that we're all here-- time to fill you in! When the audience has assembled, I'm going to be offering each of you this bag"-- he held up a small, purple silk bag-- "from which you will select a small model of the thing you are about to face! THere are different-- er-- varieties, you see. And I have to tell you something else too... ah, yes... your task is to collect the golden egg!" he stared around excitedly at them, and Nico was reminded of a child at Christmas, waiting to see what each present was hiding.

The group remained silent. Fleur and Krum hadn't reacted at all to the news and Harry cast a side glance at Nico. I told you so.

After what seemed like ages for his ADHD, Bagman was opening the purple bag and holding it out to them. "Ladies first," He offered to Fleur.

She reached a shaking hand into the bag-- a motion that calmed Nico somewhat knowing that her calm demeanor was covering up nervousness like he and Harry were feeling-- and pulled out a tiny green dragon. A sign hung from its neck, and Nico squinted to see it. A small number 2 hung from it.

"The Welsh Green," Bagman introduced.

Krum was next. He reached in and pulled out a scarlet dragon, jerking his thumb out of the way of the tiny jet of flame it blew at him. A small number 1 was looped around its neck, badly burnt.

"The Chinese Fireball."

Nico was next. He resisted the urge to peer into the bag and instead thrust his hand in, trying to find the dragons. It wasn't hard. One bit his finger and his fangs sank in, and Nico took the opportunity to snatch him out of the bag and rip the tack-like teeth from his hand. It was a sort of blueish-gray color, reminding Nico strongly of a stormy sea. Around its neck was a number 3.

"The Swedish Short-Snout." Bagman rubbed his hands together excitedly. "And that leaves..."

Harry, looking quite green, drew out a very spikey dragon. It spread its wings and bared its fangs at Harry. Number 4.

"The Hungarian Horntail!" Bagman scrunched up the bag recklessly and shoved it in his robe pocket, eager to move on to the next stage. "Well there you are! You have each pulled out the dragon you will face, and the numbers refer to the order in which you are to take on the dragons, do you see? Now, I will have to leave you because I'm commentating. Mr. Krum, you're first, just go out into the enclosure when you hear a whistle, all right?" He scuttled off.

Nico glanced back down at his Swedish Short-Snout. Like the cross between a blue drakon and a gray hydra, he thought idly. Harry glanced over at Nico, his own dragon clasped tightly in his hands. Nico figured the dragon wouldn't like that.

"What do we do with these?" He asked. Nico shot him an overly enthusiastic smile.

"Oh, we get to keep them, and potty train them, and raise them as our own. And if they grow big enough, we can take them out on walks without them being trampled! I'll go ask Hagrid for some rats to feed them."

"Very funny," Harry grumbled. He put his on the coffee table, and it flew up to eye level with him, tiny wings flapping powerfully. It glared. Harry glared back. "I suppose we could give them to Hagrid... after all, they are dragons, even if they're tiny, right?"

Nico snorted. "He'll probably still want them, but they're not really creatures. These are just enchanted clay models."

"You want to just set them free, then?"