Author's Note: This piece was written for the HP Creatures Fest 2018. This piece is completed and will be shared in three parts. I hope you enjoy!

The Prompt: When one of the Ministry missions goes wrong and Draco gets turned into a dragon, no one really tries to help him except for Hermione. While trying to reverse the curse, she develops a strange connection with Draco. The more time she spends with him, the more fond of him she becomes.

Thank you to my wonderful alpha and beta on this piece, Kyonomiko and LaBelladone x.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

"Protego!" Draco exclaimed, waving his wand as he cast a shield charm against the sudden barrage of spells being fired in their direction. "Stupefy!"

His quarry cackled as the man flittered into the crowd of faceless onlookers in Diagon Alley and Draco cursed under his breath, lowering his wand. With a grimace he fell into formation with Thomas, the two of them parting the crowd as they kept on their adversary's tail.

The man snuffled as he ran, his hair long and scraggly, firing curses at will over his shoulder without a consideration for the dozens of civilians within range of his wand. People screamed and jumped out of the way. Draco pressed his lips into a thin line and hurried on, unable to gain a clear mark within the crowd.

"Move!" Thomas shouted, shoving past the lingering Saturday afternoon shoppers with Draco following in the path that cleared.

They had been attempting to track down the man – he was known only as The Warbler – for nearly two months now. And with him in their sights, Draco knew neither he nor Dean Thomas were willing to return to the DMLE empty-handed.

The man was a notorious criminal, involved in everything from organized crime and creature smuggling rings, to the invention and usage of illegal spells and potions, and petty theft of apothecary ingredients. He had even once impersonated an Auror via Polyjuice just so he could break into the DMLE and steal a cake someone had brought in for a retirement party.

He had no MO – and he was certifiably insane.

The Warbler tittered again, sliding between two buildings as if he were a snake. Draco wouldn't have been surprised if unregistered animagus was also on his criminal repertoire.

Draco ducked as an unrecognizable flash of neon yellow light flew past, crashing into the stone wall behind him and shattering it.

Thomas cursed foully as he and Draco fired tandem stunners, both colliding into the next building and missing the man as he ducked away. The Warbler cackled again, turning back to cast them both a wide grin.

"Thomas!" Draco shouted, as the man turned on his partner. "Protego!"

The Warbler slipped between two more buildings, the crumbling stone falling to the ground in pieces as it was disturbed.

Draco crept forward as he approached the open street once more, wand held aloft, Thomas by his side. With a nod they swept forward in position, each scanning the street as they advanced.

Draco turned, his eyes widening as he met his quarry's twinkling gaze.

The last he remembered was a violent flash of white light.

Hermione Granger looked up at a soft tap on the open door frame of her office, allowing the warm summer air inside. She smiled, setting her quill down. "Charlie. How are you doing?"

Charlie Weasley offered a sort of noncommittal shrug, his blue eyes sparkling. "That's going to depend on what you say when I ask you a question."

Hermione snickered, shaking her head. Not a day went by at the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary where something bizarre didn't happen. "What's the question?"

"I need you to take a look at something," Charlie said, his smile faltering for a brief moment. "It's… in the acquisition cells."

"The cells," Hermione repeated, frowning. They rarely had cause to collect a dragon into the cells unless it was ill, injured, or newly admitted. None of which boded well for the stack of research that sat before her. "Is something wrong with a dragon?"

"Yes and no," Charlie said, and she huffed at his ambiguity. "Just come, would you?"

Rolling her eyes in mild irritation, Hermione rose from her desk and followed him from the office. It was a brilliant day, she supposed, and it would do her well to get some fresh air away from the confines of her office in the research annex of the dragon sanctuary.

The dragon keepers like Charlie spent most of their time outside in the greater sanctuary, and it was noticeable in their tanned – and scarred – skin. But Hermione, even after almost a year in Romania, still mostly retained her pale London skin.

Her eyes widened as they approached the acquisition cells, and she turned to Charlie with a suspicious, unnerved glance. A dragon she had never seen before – she didn't even recognize the breed – was thrashing about, chained to a stake that Hermione knew to be magical in its strength.

It was majestic and lithe, its pale silver scales shimmering. But its eyes were vicious.

It huffed a breath through its large, flared nostrils, smoke and fire flying at the handlers attempting to approach it.

"Is that an Antipodean Opaleye?" Hermione asked, cringing as it snorted again, and the handlers cast a series of shielding spells.

"From a distance it looks like it," Charlie said with a shrug. "But upon closer investigation, it isn't. And here's the real issue, and why we need your help – it isn't a dragon after all."

"What do you mean, it isn't a dragon?" she scoffed. "As I stand here, that's a dragon."

"It looks like a dragon," he corrected, waving a hand. "But it's an Auror; he was caught in a spell that turned him into this."

"An Auror!" Hermione exclaimed with horror. "No wonder he's so bloody irritable, you've got him chained up!" She paused, fear creeping into her bones at the thought that it might have been one of her friends. "Who's the Auror?"

Charlie grimaced, glancing sidelong at her. "It's Draco Malfoy."

The blood in her veins froze – her breathing escalated, her eyes fixed on his for any hint that he wasn't being serious. She hadn't seen Draco Malfoy since eighth year – since shortly before she had left England.

"Draco Malfoy is an Auror?" she asked, raising a skeptical brow. "I half expected that prat to end up in Azkaban."

"He is," Charlie confirmed with a nod. "And Mum says he was top of the training class Harry and Ron were in. Didn't they ever mention that?"

"No." Hermione snorted, but she wasn't surprised. She wouldn't have expected either of them to admit Malfoy had outperformed them in Auror training. "So why is he a dragon, then?"

"According to Dean Thomas, his partner, they were chasing down some madman through Diagon Alley and Malfoy was hit with a spell that turned him into this in the middle of a Saturday afternoon."

Hermione cringed at the visual image – Diagon Alley had never seen such excitement, she was sure. She glanced around, her gaze skirting over the massive dragon that was her former classmate. "Is Dean Thomas here as well?"

"No," Charlie said, shaking his head. "Up to his neck in paperwork, apparently. Especially since the baddie got away in the chaos that ensued. Took eight Aurors just to transport Malfoy here. You'd think the bugger would have listened to reason."

Hermione wanted to agree – but she knew if she had been turned into a dragon she might have panicked too. But that didn't explain why he wasn't cooperating now. She wondered how affected he was by the predispositions of the dragon he had become.

"So we need your help," Charlie said, shrugging again. "Dragons we can handle; dragons we know. But this? They couldn't reverse the spell so he's here. This is strange magic, and no one here is an expert in that."

"Neither am I," she reminded him, even as she understood why she had been summoned. She was the one here researching the magical qualities of dragons and the differences among breeds – the brains in a sea of brawn, as it were.

Hermione fixed her eyes once more on the dragon, who had laid down and was refusing to move, his narrowed eyes glaring at his handlers.

"Unchain him," she found herself breathing. Against her better judgement and her screaming instincts, she took a step toward the acquisition cells. Charlie followed, one scarred hand slipping into the pocket of his trousers and drawing his wand.

The handlers glanced at her in surprise as she repeated the request, raising a brow. "Would you like to be chained up like some wild beast?"

With a chorus of sheepish grumbling, the handlers released the magical chains that held him, moving out of range of the dragon's ire.

His large, cold grey eyes turned to face her in response to his changed circumstances – and if Hermione didn't know better, she would have thought he blinked in recognition.

"Malfoy," Hermione said, holding a hand out as if it could do anything to protect her, should he decide to burn her to a crisp. "Can you understand me? Are you in there?"

She thought she saw the dragon's lip curl into a sneer.

She felt the corners of her mouth tug upwards, even as she released a sigh. "Malfoy, we'll leave you unchained if you stop throwing fire."

The dragon huffed, its head dropping into its large, scaled feet, complete with razor sharp claws long enough to pull Hermione's innards from her body in one swipe.

She swallowed, pushing the imagery to the back of her mind. She took another step closer and the dragon's heavily lidded grey eyes followed her movements. Even after a year in the sanctuary, she hadn't been this close to a dragon.

Not since the one in Gringotts, of course. But it felt different to be so close to one when it wasn't a life or death situation.

"I'm going to try and figure out what happened to you," Hermione said, aware of the dragon's breath as she closed the gap between them. "For the time being, I'm going to convince them to let you go into the sanctuary, but I'll have to cast a tracking spell on you in case I need you to return here, okay?"

The dragon simply stared, unimpressed. He huffed a smoky breath through his nose.

"It's a lot better out there than here!" Hermione exclaimed, indignant. "And if you won't cooperate, I'm more than willing to return to my actual work!"

He scoffed a sound of irritation from within his throat, and then gave her a sort of jerky nod. She cast the tracking spell, watching as his large silver form lit up with a pale blue glow.

"Go and explore, then," Hermione muttered. "But if you feel a tug at your wingtips I need you to return to the research annex." She waved a hand in the general direction. "It's over there."

The pale dragon stared at her for another long moment, then bared its fangs and took off to the skies with an impressive and powerful wingspan. After a short, tense moment, he was gone.

Hermione turned to Charlie as he came back alongside her. "Do you think it was wise to let him go like that?"

"No less wise than keeping him chained up," Hermione said quietly. "Unless he gets in a fight with the other dragons out there, he'll prefer it to being trapped here." She turned to Charlie, worrying her lower lip. "I don't even know where to begin with him, but I'll trust you to keep an eye on him out in the sanctuary?"

"Right," he responded with a grimace. "I'll watch his tracking from a distance in case anything happens. Thanks, Hermione. And good luck."

Hermione nodded as Charlie collected his broom from a hook on the wall of the cells and took off after the dragon.

She grumbled to herself, as Malfoy became no more than a distant white spot on the horizon, "I'm going to need it."

Hermione stared at the stack of research waiting for her with a huff and set it aside. She was certainly not a specialist in magic or spell reversal; she was only here to research the different types of dragons held in the sanctuary, and the magical properties of each breed.

But she supposed until they could contact a specialist she would have to take on the task. The thought of Malfoy being turned into a dragon was baffling. And to see him trapped in the cells, chained up and surrounded by handlers, had caused an uneasy jolt in Hermione's stomach.

She tapped her quill on the desk before drafting a quick missive to Dean Thomas to floo her or visit the sanctuary whenever he was able. She hoped he would be able to provide her with more information regarding the situation than Charlie had done, given Dean had been present when Malfoy had been struck with the spell.

As she watched the owl fly out of the reserve, she frowned.

Draco Malfoy had been a pest in her life since she had been eleven years old. Hermione had no particular proclivity to assist him aside from the fact that she was a decent person and was doing her best to move on from the occurrences of the war.

She recalled seeing him during their eighth year – it had been a condition of his acquittal that he complete his NEWTs – and he had been nothing but scowls and silence through the duration of the year. It had been a disarming shift from the cruel, loathsome youth she had known for the previous seven years. The other condition was that he seek gainful employment and contribute to society – evidently Malfoy had taken that to the extreme and sought an aurorship.

Hermione debated sending Harry an owl to inquire about that but she didn't want to share too much of the situation yet.

She sent another of the sanctuary's owls to a spell reversal specialist, detailing the situation and how she had somehow been tasked with figuring out a solution.

While she waited on the return of the owls, Hermione drew a book from her shelf on strange cases of magic and dragons, but found nothing of any significance. She also couldn't find any spell in which one could transform a human into a magical species at will outside of basic transfiguration.

The second owl returned first, carrying a response from the specialist. The short letter suggested she simply locate the counter-curse, as that would save her a world of trouble in spell reversal techniques. But should that not be possible, he would arrange to visit the sanctuary the following week.

Releasing a long breath, Hermione set the letter aside, determining she would most likely need to arrange the appointment. If the spell had been invented and cast by a mad criminal who had evaded capture, she didn't imagine it would be easy to get the counter-spell.

There was a whoosh and the fireplace in her office flared to life with a flash of green, as Dean's head appeared in the fire.

"Hermione," he said, his brow furrowed with surprise as his face stared up at her.

"Dean," Hermione replied, turning a chair around to face the fire and sinking into it. "Thanks for getting back to me so quickly. I was hoping you could answer some questions about the situation with Malfoy."

For a moment she felt bad for Dean, and wondered how he had ended up with Malfoy as a partner.

Dean cast a furtive glance behind him. "I need to get away from this paperwork for a bit. Mind if I come through?"

"Not at all," Hermione said with a brief shake of her head.

She moved the chair aside as he came through the Floo a moment later, brushing ash from his sleeves. He grinned and Hermione returned the smile despite the situation.

"I didn't even know this was where you'd gone to," he said. "Harry and Ron only said you left England after eighth year."

"Right," Hermione said, forcing a smile. "They didn't exactly understand why I left. But I've been here since. Good on you for passing your Auror training."

"Thanks," Dean said, grinning back. He glanced around her office for a moment before settling his gaze on her. "Malfoy is here?"

"He's been released into the sanctuary for the time being," Hermione explained. "I've got Charlie Weasley keeping an eye on him so he doesn't get into trouble with the other dragons. I was hoping you'd be able to tell me a bit more about what happened."

"Right," Dean said, pressing his palms together. "It all happened fast, to be honest. We were after The Warbler – caught him out in the open in Diagon and we initiated a chase – and he turned on us coming around the corner, and blasted Malfoy with the spell. The instant he turned into a dragon it was chaos, and The Warbler escaped."

"That's it?" she asked, frowning. That was as much as Charlie had told her. "Nothing about the spell? The easiest way to revert him to human form is with a counter-spell."

"We didn't have one or we would have done it," he replied, shaking his head. "The Warbler is notorious for making up his own spells, and this wasn't a simple transfiguration. Without the counter, we couldn't do anything to contain him and decided to bring him here for the time being. I wish I could tell you more."

Hermione jotted a quick note on a sheet of parchment. "Have you got any other leads on this Warbler?"

"Malfoy and I have been pursuing him for months," Dean said, scratching the back of his neck. "And with him out of commission it'll be just me, unless I can convince Robards to assign someone else to the case with me. If we can catch him, we can get the counter-spell out of him."

"Okay," she said with a sigh. "Keep me posted, will you?"

"Absolutely," he nodded. "Do you mind – is there a way I can see him before I go?"

She blinked, attempting to school the surprise from her face. "You want to talk to him?"

"Well, yeah," he muttered. "He is my partner, you know?"

"Right, of course," Hermione said, feeling flustered. "I guess I just thought –"

"You thought I'd been stuck with him against my will," Dean said with a chuckle at the guilt on her face. "That is how it felt at first. But Hermione – he's not like he was before the war, you know? We get on now. For the most part."

Hermione frowned as his words sunk in. She offered him a tight smile. "Of course, I'll cast the summoning charm."

She led Dean outside of the research annex while they waited for Malfoy to fly back from wherever in the sanctuary he had ended up. The sheer size of the sanctuary had astounded Hermione upon arriving, including the number of different biomes which made up the expansive magical area. But once she had learned how many dragons called the sanctuary home, it had made sense.

The annex was raised in the air – one of a series of linked buildings – and looked out upon the greater sanctuary to the east. Even now, the view left Hermione breathless.

Finally the large silver wingspan of Malfoy's dragon form came into view on the horizon and Dean released a sharp breath beside her. Malfoy settled on a tree even in height with the outer deck of the research annex, his grey eyes narrowed as they fixed on Hermione.

But then his gaze shifted to Dean beside her, and his expression changed – his reptilian eyes widened and the irritation dissolved at once.

Malfoy reached out a scaled and clawed foreleg; Hermione watched in surprise as Dean made a fist and bumped it against one long, vicious claw. Dean's brow was furrowed, his lips pursed.

"Alright, then?" he asked in a low voice. Malfoy snuffled and it sounded somehow like a cross between boredom and frustration. Dean shrugged. "I know, I'm trying to track him down again."

A soft growl emanated from Malfoy's throat and Dean rolled his eyes. "You'll have to be patient – I know it's a tall ask." Then Dean snickered, his gaze flickering to Hermione. "Don't give Hermione too much trouble. At least she's willing to help you, yeah?"

Malfoy's begrudging gaze settled on Hermione again, and she felt a shiver creep down the length of her spine.

"How can you understand him?" she asked under her breath. Malfoy snorted smoke.

"I just know him," Dean said, rolling his eyes. "He'll be anxious as hell to get back to work."

"We don't have the counter-spell," Hermione felt obliged to mention, then turned to Malfoy. "For the time being, if you need anything, you can come here and I'll try to understand."

Malfoy's head swung to the side to face out into the sanctuary again. He waved one clawed foot into the distance and then turned back to face Hermione, bringing the claw to his wicked fangs.

"Food?" Hermione asked. Malfoy nodded his head. "You can't find anything to eat out in the sanctuary?"

Hermione didn't realize a dragon could roll its eyes. Dean chuckled beside her.

"I imagine raw rodent isn't suitable for a Malfoy dragon," Dean explained. Malfoy nodded again.

"It won't negatively affect your system as a dragon," Hermione explained. "Your body should be able to digest anything you find in the sanctuary perfectly well. And you are fully capable of cooking your food if that's bothering you."

Malfoy huffed a long aggravated sigh, smoke flaring from his throat as he rolled his eyes at Dean again.

"He would like a steak, Hermione," Dean said, and the dragon huffed a laugh.

"A steak," Hermione repeated, her eyes narrowing. Malfoy's large grey ones held hers. "Fine. I'll cook you a bloody steak."

Malfoy clawed at a dead branch on the tree upon which he was perched, his eyes widening. Hermione pressed her lips together, shaking her head. Dean tilted his head, his gaze fixed on the silver dragon.

"I don't know what he's saying," Dean admitted. "But I would wager he'd like a full meal while you're cooking for him."

"I'm not his private chef," Hermione grit through her teeth. Malfoy huffed another breath, holding up three curved claws. "Oh, no," she shook her head. "I am not cooking three meals a day for you."

Malfoy rolled his eyes again, turning a baleful expression on Dean.

Dean shrugged, his brows knitted. "Don't look at me, I'm not coming here three times a day to feed you."

Malfoy ruffled his wings behind him then cast Hermione a pointed gaze as he lifted a foot, inspecting the claws. Dean snickered beside her and her brow furrowed.

Her eyes narrowed as she scowled at the large dragon before her, his face a mask of haughty boredom.

"I will cook one steak for you, once. Then you will have to fend for yourself in the sanctuary," she hissed.

Malfoy released a noise of disgust from his throat; Hermione felt a well of irritation collecting in her chest and she didn't know whether she preferred him as a picky, entitled dragon, or an angry, fire-throwing one.

She folded her arms across her chest, casting a sidelong glare at Dean. "You're welcome to stay here with him if you like. Apparently I have a steak to prepare."

Malfoy clawed at the branch as Hermione turned to leave and she threw a hard stare over her shoulder. She would have sworn she saw the dragon smirk as she turned to leave.

When Hermione returned to the deck of the research annex half an hour later with the largest steak she could find – complete with chips and a salad – Dean was sitting on the ledge, his feet hanging over and arms resting on the railing, chuckling while Malfoy remained perched atop his tree.

Hermione scowled as she approached and set the plate down on the edge where Malfoy could reach it.

His head dropped, his large nostrils flaring as he sniffed her offerings.

Hermione rolled her eyes, snapping, "Just eat it!"

Malfoy fixed her with a hard stare, stabbed the steak with one long claw and tossed the entire thing into the air, catching it with a snap of his fangs. Then he picked up the plate with his forelegs, balancing it between unsteady claws and snuffled it with his snout, cleaning the plate.

He attempted to return the plate to the deck of the annex and ended up dropping it, the ceramic shattering on the ledge. Hermione vanished the mess with a wave of her wand.

Malfoy turned his expectant gaze on her, flexing his claws.

"That's all I made for you," Hermione said, frowning. "It isn't my fault you ate it so quickly."

Malfoy rolled his head backwards, releasing a long, irritated breath. Dean chuckled, rising to his feet.

"As much fun as this is," he said, snickering, "I really ought to get back and try to track down The Warbler so we can get the counter-spell. If this goes on too long one of you might end up killing the other."

"I'll keep looking into alternate solutions for the time being," Hermione said with a grimace, not liking the odds of Dean catching The Warbler in a timely fashion on his own before Malfoy drove her crazy.

"Good idea," Dean said, raising his fist to the dragon again. Malfoy tapped against it with the curve of his claw, as they had done upon greeting one another. Hermione shook her head at the easy camaraderie between them.

While she appreciated Dean acting as a buffer between her and Malfoy, she would have preferred not to have to deal with the entitled pureblood in dragon form at all.

Malfoy flared his wings and swept off into the sky with a last look at the two of them.

"Well, that was interesting," Hermione muttered as she led Dean back to her office. He grinned and followed.

"Thanks, Hermione," Dean said, "let me know if he's causing you too much trouble."

"I'm sure he will," she assured him. "Thanks, and good luck."

With a nod, Dean stepped through the Floo and was gone. Hermione sunk back into the seat at her desk, rubbing at her temple where a headache had begun to creep in.

What had she gotten herself into?