In the boys’ dormitory of Ravenclaw Tower, the deep blue night hung outside the arched high windows, and the blue-bronze bed curtains fell gently.
There weren’t many new students this year, and this four-person dormitory only housed three: Baelon Targaryen sat on the lower bunk, while the upper bunk remained empty; beside him were his two first-year housemates—Michael Corner and Terry Boot.
The three were chatting in low voices about the next day’s classes.
“Tomorrow morning’s first period is Professor Flitwick’s Charms Class, our House’s Dean,” Michael said softly.
“I heard his classes are particularly interesting.
We should arrive early to leave a good impression on the Dean.”
Terry nodded.
“You’re right.
It’s always better to arrive early and be serious.”
[Writing up to here, I hope readers remember our domain name.
To follow Taiwan novels, go to Super Intimate.]
Baelon listened quietly and gave a soft hum of agreement.
“I will.”
The conversation paused.
Baelon discreetly looked around, confirming that only the three of them were in the dormitory and that there were no signs of anyone else approaching.
It was time for the little guy in the bag to get some fresh air.
Taking advantage of Michael and Terry not paying attention, he reached extremely lightly toward the small leather bag at his waist, which was enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm, and silently undid the outer Concealment Charm and Silencing Charm.
The next moment, a dazzling golden shadow slowly emerged from the bag and landed quietly on the floor.
It was a small dragon covered in golden scales, its size already approaching that of an adult hyena.
It wasn’t frantic or roaring; it simply stood docilely at Baelon’s feet, gently nuzzling the back of his hand, its scales glowing with a warm luster under the moonlight.
Baelon lowered his head, his voice extremely soft and gentle:
“Be quiet.”
The golden dragon seemed to understand perfectly and immediately settled down, remaining motionless.
Only then did he look up at his two dumbfounded roommates, placing a finger gently against his lips, his voice pressed extremely low:
“Remember to keep it a secret.”
The dormitory became so quiet that one could hear breathing.
Michael suddenly covered his mouth, barely managing to swallow a gasp, but his eyes were shining brilliantly.
“A dragon…
that’s a dragon!
Baelon, this is strictly forbidden at Hogwarts!
If you’re caught, you’ll definitely get detention, and Ravenclaw will lose points.”
Though he gave a warning, his gaze didn’t leave that golden light for a second, and his body unconsciously leaned forward, full of longing.
Terry also nervously glanced at the dormitory door and whispered a reminder:
“It’s too dangerous.
Such a large dragon will be hard to hide.
You must be very careful.”
But as soon as he spoke, both of their gazes were firmly glued to the little dragon, curiosity and affection almost overflowing.
Baelon looked at their cautious yet expectant expressions and said softly:
“His name is Sunfyre.
He’s very docile and won’t hurt people.
If you’d like, you can touch him gently.”
These words seemed to flip a switch.
Michael took a deep breath and tentatively reached out, his fingertips gently touching the little dragon’s smooth scales.
Warm, hard, and with a delicate luster, the sensation was far more wonderful than he had imagined.
The little dragon tilted its head and gently nuzzled his fingers with its snout, showing no aggression whatsoever.
Terry also gathered his courage and gently stroked its back, his voice trembling slightly:
“Oh my god…
he’s so good.”
The brief interaction between the boys and the dragon was gentle and novel.
The three boys, who had previously felt some distance between them, suddenly became much closer through this secret that belonged only to them.
For new students who had just stepped into the wizarding world, dragons only existed in legends and textbooks.
Touching one with their own hands at this moment made both of them so excited they were speechless.
Baelon gently stroked the golden dragon’s smooth, warm scales, his mind quickly calculating.
Hiding it in the dormitory forever wasn’t a long-term solution.
Going to classes and moving around would be nerve-wracking, and it would be discovered sooner or later.
He thought of Rubeus Hagrid, who lived in the small hut outside the Castle.
Hagrid was exceptionally fond of all kinds of magical creatures and was almost obsessed with dragons.
If he could ask Hagrid to temporarily look after the golden dragon, it would probably be much safer than hiding it in the dormitory.
But this was only a temporary measure.
To truly be at ease, he had to go through official channels.
Perhaps he could take the initiative to find the Principal.
Acting as soon as he thought of it, Baelon was never one to procrastinate.
He didn’t have an owl of his own yet, so he looked at his two roommates, his tone gentle and polite:
“Sorry, could I borrow your owl?
I have a very important letter to send to the Principal.”
Though Michael and Terry were still in shock and excitement, they hurriedly nodded and quickly brought over a well-behaved owl.
Baelon thanked them, took out some parchment and ink, and wrote a few lines: the general idea was his special situation with the dragon, and he hoped to have a private meeting with the Principal regarding an important matter.
He carefully folded the letter, tied it to the owl’s leg, pushed the window open a bit, and sent the owl into the night.
Watching the owl disappear into the night sky, Baelon finally breathed a slight sigh of relief.
Waiting for the Principal’s reply while looking for a chance to see Hagrid—a two-pronged approach would surely find a stable home for his companion.
“I’ll be careful and won’t cause you any trouble,” he said to his roommates.
Michael and Terry glanced at each other, both seeing the same feelings in the other’s eyes—worry about breaking the rules, yet genuine awe and joy for this magical companion.
“We definitely won’t say a word,” Michael promised in a low voice.
“It’s just…
before class tomorrow, you must hide him well.”
Terry also nodded vigorously, his gaze still resting gently on the little dragon:
“He…
he’s really amazing.”
Moonlight spilled through the round window, falling on the golden dragon’s shimmering scales and reflecting off Baelon’s silver-white long hair and deep purple eyes.
In this ancient magical Castle, a secret belonging to a Targaryen and a dragon quietly took root in Ravenclaw Tower.
The next morning, the Hogwarts Great Hall was bathed in morning light.
Four long tables shone brilliantly under the candelabras and skylights.
The Ravenclaw table was filled with students dressed in Eagle-patterned school robes, and the air was filled with the aroma of toasted bread, smoked bacon, and hot butter.
As soon as Baelon Targaryen walked into the Great Hall, he became the most impossible presence to ignore in the entire room.
His silver-white long hair was simply tied back, with a few stray strands hanging by his cheeks, making his features appear even more defined and deep.
Those purple eyes were warm and transparent in the morning light, his nose bridge was high, and his lip line was sharp.
He always wore a gentle smile, yet it hid a perfectly measured hint of faint distance, making people feel he was friendly but not daring to disturb him easily.
It was a unique temperament originating from the Dragon King bloodline—calm, elegant, and self-contained.
As soon as he sat down at the Ravenclaw table, gazes from all around turned toward him.
Many girls among the new students peeked at him while pretending to eat, their cheeks slightly flushed as they whispered; among the older students, many gazes also frequently swept over—a mix of amazement, curiosity, and appreciation, interspersed with the subtle jealousy and defiance of many boys.
Before long, several bold upperclassmen walked straight over.
One Witch stopped beside him, her cheeks flushed, her voice trembling slightly but trying to be bold:
“Targaryen, I’m a sixth-year…
I, I think you’re very special, and I want to date you.”
Baelon looked up, his smile gentle and polite, but his tone light and clear:
“Sorry, I’m not interested.”
He declined cleanly and decisively, yet without being the least bit unkind.
But the commotion around him did not subside.
Baelon keenly noticed two boys nearby exchanging shifty looks—he recognized them at a glance as the Weasley twins from Gryffindor, Fred and George, the two most famous troublemakers in Hogwarts.
They had a small corked glass bottle hidden under their sleeves, the liquid inside shimmering with an ambiguous pinkish-purple—it was a Love Potion.
The two clearly intended to wait for a moment when no one was looking to secretly pour it into his pumpkin juice for a laugh.
A trace of faint impatience flickered in the depths of Baelon’s eyes.
He didn’t want to be watched, disturbed, or tested by anyone else anymore.
So he quickly swallowed his last bite of food, placed his napkin on the table, and simply dropped a sentence to Michael and Terry beside him:
“I’m leaving first.”
He then stood up and left the Great Hall quickly, almost as if escaping.
The Charms Class classroom was spacious and bright; this period was for Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff together.
Baelon arrived at the classroom early.
He didn’t choose a seat near the front but walked straight to an inconspicuous corner in the back row, placed his wand gently beside his textbook, and waited quietly for class to begin.
Just then, he saw Hannah Abbott not far away.
The two had known each other before the start of school and could be considered friends.
As soon as Hannah saw him, a bright smile immediately appeared on her face, and she gave him a small nod.
Baelon also gave her a slight nod back.
Soon, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students poured in one after another, and the atmosphere gradually became lively.
Before long, Professor Flitwick walked slowly into the classroom.
He was small in stature, with slow and elegant steps and a gentle, humorous smile on his face.
As soon as he entered, he drew everyone’s attention.
He lightly hopped onto a platform made of a tall stack of thick books beside the podium, cleared his high-pitched but clear throat, and began with a witty opening:
“Good morning, my dear little witches and Wizards!
Welcome to Charms Class—here, you will find that magic is far more gentle than you imagine, and also more…
mischievous!”
As soon as he finished speaking, he gave his wand a light flick.
The quill on the podium automatically began a light dance, the ink bottle spun in the air without spilling a drop, and several pieces of parchment folded into small birds, circling gracefully once above the classroom before landing steadily back on the table.
A series of light and interesting little spells drew a burst of cheerful laughter from the classroom.
Professor Flitwick looked at everyone with a smile.
When the laughter died down, he slowly got to the main point:
“Alright, jokes aside.
Today, we are going to learn the most practical and basic spell in a Wizard’s career—the Levitation Charm.
The incantation is: Wingardium Leviosa.
Remember, a light flick of the wrist, don’t be stiff, don’t use brute force; magic requires precision and gentleness.”
He personally demonstrated it once, the quill floating quietly in mid-air, light and stable.
The sound of uneven incantations immediately rose in the classroom.
Many new students turned red in the face, waving their wands haphazardly, while the quills on their desks either didn’t move at all or snapped away with a ‘pop’.
Professor Flitwick patiently walked back and forth between the students of the two houses, softly correcting everyone’s posture and pronunciation.
When he walked by Baelon, his steps came to a gentle stop.
This silver-haired, purple-eyed boy was too quiet, yet he possessed an air that was hard to ignore.
“Targaryen, would you like to demonstrate for everyone?”
Baelon nodded slightly and slowly raised his wand.
He didn’t open his mouth, didn’t utter a single syllable, and didn’t even make any extra movements.
Just one light, steady, and extremely precise wrist movement.
No sound, no light, no flamboyant fluctuations.
The quill before him rose steadily, elegantly, and silently into the air, reaching a moderate height and maintaining a proper posture, as if held firmly by an invisible hand, perfectly still.
A flawless, non-verbal Levitation Charm.
The classroom went suddenly quiet, followed by suppressed gasps.
The Hufflepuff students nearby all had their eyes wide open, full of shock and curiosity, unable to help but whisper to each other in low voices.
“He…
he didn’t say the incantation just now!”
“Non-verbal casting in first year?
That’s too amazing!”
“How did he manage to control magic without an incantation?”
The Ravenclaw students around him also had thoughtful expressions, their eyes full of admiration and curiosity; some even leaned in slightly, intending to ask him for tips after class.
Baelon gently lowered his wand.
Professor Flitwick’s eyes instantly lit up brilliantly, and his small body gave a slight, excited tremble.
“Wonderful!
Absolutely perfect!”
“A first-year student able to cast such a stable and precise Non-verbal spell—this is a sign of extreme focus and talent!”
He happily raised his small hand and announced loudly to the whole class:
“Five points to Ravenclaw!
For Targaryen’s excellent magical control!”
As his words fell, he patrolled the classroom again, praising several students who cast spells correctly and had serious attitudes, giving two points to Ravenclaw and two points to Hufflepuff, and the classroom was immediately filled with cheerful applause.
Afterward, Professor Flitwick looked at Baelon with a smile, his tone full of expectation:
“Targaryen, since you have such amazing talent in Non-verbal spells, would you be willing to share a few tips with your classmates?
It would be very helpful to everyone.”
Baelon’s tone was calm and clear, his voice not loud, yet able to be heard clearly by everyone:
“Don’t use force deliberately, and don’t speak the words aloud.
Just know clearly in your heart that you want it to float.
Focus, stability; the wand is just a guide, not a command.”
A few simple and straightforward sentences, yet they captured the core key to non-verbal casting.
Many students had a sudden realization and immediately lowered their heads to try, and the sound of light and orderly practice rose in the classroom once again.
Professor Flitwick nodded repeatedly as he listened and struck while the iron was hot, leading the whole class to reinforce the Levitation Charm several times and even demonstrating two more fun little spells, making the atmosphere of the whole class relaxed and fulfilling.
By the time class ended, many students were still wanting more, packing their books while still discussing Baelon’s demonstration of non-verbal casting in low voices.
Noon, Hogwarts Great Hall.
The long tables were laid with roast chicken, steak, potatoes, and various desserts, and the plates automatically refilled with food.
Baelon sat with Michael and Terry; after the experience of guarding the golden dragon together last night and having close contact with it, a layer of tacit and warm closeness had developed between the three of them.
When they were halfway through eating, a snowy white owl landed lightly in front of him, an envelope with an exquisite crest tied to its leg.
Baelon opened it to take a look.
The handwriting on the letter was elegant and powerful; it was indeed Albus Dumbledore’s reply.
The letter read: “Targaryen, I have read your letter.
If it is convenient for you, please come to my office for a talk during the lunch break.
Password: Lemon Drop.
Albus Dumbledore.”
Baelon carefully tucked the letter away, his fingertips tightening slightly.
He knew that the matter of him bringing a dragon into Hogwarts was finally going to be formally placed before the Principal.
Michael, beside him, noticed his slight change in expression and asked in a low voice:
“What is it?
Who is the letter from?”
Baelon shook his head gently, his tone calm:
“It’s nothing.
Headmaster Dumbledore wants me to go to his office.”
The two roommates glanced at each other, both seeing a hint of tension and worry in the other’s eyes.
Baelon put down his knife and fork and stood up.
” I’ll head over first.
You two take your time eating.”
Baelon lightly adjusted his school robes and walked through the still-bustling Great Hall, heading toward the Principal’s Tower that soared into the clouds at the back of the Castle.
Along the way, the stairs occasionally shifted under his feet, and the Wizards in the portraits dozed or chatted with each other; the entire Castle carried an air of afternoon laziness.
He walked forward quietly, his expression composed, as if he were simply going for an ordinary meeting rather than one concerning the fate of a golden dragon.