At Night
Baelon Targaryen waved to his companions in the room, wrapped his cloak tightly around himself, and gently pushed open the dormitory door.
This was already the third time he had snuck out of the Castle at night.
The memory of his first night excursion was still embarrassing—he and his companions had just rounded a corridor corner when they were caught red-handed by Filch, who was carrying an oil lamp.
If he hadn’t spoken so sincerely and kept a low profile at the time, he would have had points deducted long ago.
Since then, he had specifically sought advice from older students and practiced secretly whenever he had free time, finally managing to make his Disillusionment Charm useful.
He walked down the stone steps, his footsteps extremely light, keeping his body close to the shadows.
When he encountered portraits, he lightened his pace and held his breath, quietly lurking past under the cover of night, not daring to make the slightest sound.
He moved silently along the way like a shadow, and soon arrived at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
The forest was terrifyingly quiet.
Sunfyre, a golden dragon the size of a horse, stood silently at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, waiting with a long-established understanding.
As long as it stayed there, the surroundings were perfectly still.
That was the aura of a dragon, the pressure brought by an apex predator, both domineering and inviolable.
Baelon walked over step by step.
Sunfyre lowered its head slightly, bringing its snout to his hand.
He raised his hand to press against its scales, his fingertips tracing the hard patterns, his palm growing slightly warm from the temperature of the scales.
A low hum rolled from Sunfyre’s throat, its head gently rubbing against his wrist, its snout brushing his palm with a sense of closeness.
A moment later, as if understanding intuitively, Sunfyre leaned forward, lowering its neck ridge to level with his waist to make it easier for him to mount.
Baelon reached out to steady himself on the protruding scales behind its neck and sat down firmly.
He wrapped his arms around the dragon’s neck, leaning his body forward slightly, pressing himself close to Sunfyre’s warm back.
“Fly,” Baelon commanded softly.
Sunfyre was extremely intelligent; there was no need for ancient High Valyrian.
Just hearing his ordinary tone, it already understood its master’s meaning.
Sunfyre’s wings slowly unfurled, the wing membranes slicing through the night and creating a gust of wind that instantly sent Baelon’s cloak flying backward, the hem snapping loudly.
In the next second, the dragon wings flapped downward violently, swirling fallen leaves and dust from the ground into the air as man and dragon abruptly left the ground.
The wind rushed in from all directions.
Baelon instinctively narrowed his eyes, the stray hairs on his forehead pulled back against his temples by the wind, with cool night dew clinging to his eyelashes.
The airflow from the flapping dragon wings carried the scent of vegetation and earth into his collar, making him shiver slightly, yet he couldn’t help but press the side of his face against Sunfyre’s warm scales.
The wind swept past the spires of Hogwarts, through the Castle’s corridors, echoing in his ears with a whistle like the school song.
The corners of his clothes were pulled taut by the wind, the hem of his school robes flapping and beating; with every upward stroke of the dragon’s wings, stronger wind struck his back, wrapping him entirely in the night.
Sunfyre flew higher and higher, wings extended, gliding steadily through the moonlight.
Sometimes it tilted its body, its wings brushing the treetops and knocking down pine needles; sometimes it dove suddenly before abruptly pulling up.
Baelon’s body rose and fell with it, his hands gripping tighter until his knuckles turned white, yet the corners of his mouth couldn’t help but lift.
He could clearly feel the vibration of Sunfyre’s dragon body; every beat of the wing membranes and every contraction of muscle was transmitted through the scales to his legs and hands, as if the breath of the two had become intertwined.
They flew into the high altitude, passing through the clouds.
Above the clouds, the night was exceptionally clear; a bright moon hung high in the sky, its clear light bathing everything, as if a quiet and magnificent silver scroll had been unfurled between heaven and earth.
Baelon took a deep breath, his spirit enveloping his entire body and transforming into invisible telekinetic force, steadily lifting his body and slowly rising from the dragon’s back to float in the air—a technique he had only mastered recently.
Sunfyre came to a sudden halt, its wings flapping rapidly to maintain balance.
Its golden pupils contracted suddenly, and its head snapped around, its snout pointing directly at the mid-air Baelon with a hint of confusion.
Then, it curiously flapped its wings to circle around Baelon, the wind from its wings swirling his robes and making his body sway gently.
Sunfyre’s snout approached again and again, gently rubbing against his shoulder and the back of his hand in a probing manner, curious how its master could fly in the air without wings.
Its breath was warm, brushing over his cheeks and causing his tense expression to relax slightly.
Baelon pursed his lips, focusing his spirit to steady his form, raising his left hand slightly to control his body’s lateral movement to the left while gently reaching his right hand toward Sunfyre.
Sunfyre understood immediately, dipping a wingtip and following him to glide to the left.
Man and dragon chased and played in the starry sky.
Baelon tapped the air with his toes, his body rotating half a circle as the wind swirled his robes like unfurled butterfly wings.
Sunfyre tucked its wings, its body curling into a golden arc as it slid past his side, the tip of its tail gently brushing his ankle.
Silver light spilled through the clouds as the two coordinated in perfect harmony, as if dancing in the moonlight.
While passing over the forest canopy, Sunfyre suddenly let out a short dragon roar, its wings beating once as it stopped in mid-air.
Its gaze was locked firmly onto a clearing in the forest below.
Baelon followed its line of sight and saw a sounder of wild boars with their heads down rooting for food, their hooves making soft rustling sounds on the fallen leaves.
He raised a hand to wipe the thin sweat forced out by the wind from his forehead, hovering beside Sunfyre, his voice clear and cold: “Sunfyre, dive.”
The moment he finished speaking, its wings snapped shut, and its body turned into a golden streak of light, diving straight down.
The wind howled around it, and its dragon scales shimmered with dazzling light under the moon.
Baelon hung in the air, his telekinesis supporting him as he followed behind Sunfyre, the wind pulling at his robes, making him look like a shadow chasing the golden light.
As they neared the ground, Sunfyre’s sharp claws suddenly extended, the cold-gleaming tips accurately clamping onto the back of the largest wild boar.
The wild boar let out a shrill howl, its legs kicking frantically, but it was pinned down firmly by Sunfyre.
Then, the dragon wings flapped violently, carrying the prey straight into the sky.
Rising to Baelon’s side, Sunfyre loosened its claws.
The wild boar fell from the sky with a scream.
Baelon, hovering beside Sunfyre, looked at the falling prey, his lips parting slightly as he commanded in a deep voice: “Dracarys!”
Sunfyre opened its mouth, and a blast of blazing golden dragonfire erupted.
The firelight sliced through the night with a divine luster, instantly enveloping the falling wild boar.
The air was suddenly filled with a charred aroma; the firelight flashed and vanished, and that massive wild boar was already roasted well-done, its skin glistening with oil.
Sunfyre flapped its wings, its form darting downward, and caught the falling prey firmly in its mouth.
It landed on a flat clearing, its dragon claws pinning the prey down as it began to tear and bite, the sound of dragon teeth chewing exceptionally clear in the silent forest.
Baelon slowly lowered his body, landing beside Sunfyre and gently pressing his hand against its neck scales.
Sunfyre, holding a chunk of meat, glanced up at him with a hint of pride in its golden eyes before lowering its head to continue eating.
They continued to play and chase under the night sky until the night grew deep.
Baelon raised his hand and gently stroked Sunfyre’s neck scales.
“I have to go back,” he said softly.
“Remember to stay in the Dragonpit, don’t go near the Centaur territory, don’t go to dangerous places, and don’t stay too far from Hagrid.”
Sunfyre let out a low hum and rubbed its snout against his palm, as if agreeing.
Baelon gave it a final pat, turned to cast the Disillusionment Charm again, lightened his steps, held his breath, and used the shadows to quietly slip all the way back to the Castle.
Just as he rounded the back door corridor, two figures stepped out from the shadows.
It was none other than the Weasley twins, Fred and George.
They leaned against a stone pillar with expressions that suggested they already knew, as if they had been waiting there for a long time.
“Back at last.” Fred straightened up, a characteristic sly smile on his face.
George folded his arms and looked him up and down, his tone light: “Running to the Forbidden Forest in the middle of the night, you’ve been quite busy lately.”
Baelon froze in place, his heart tightening slightly: “I just went out for some fresh air.”
“Fresh air?” Fred scoffed, tilting his chin to indicate Baelon’s messy hair.
“Can fresh air blow your pretty hair into such a state?”
George took a step forward and lowered his voice, his eyes showing no malice, only curiosity: “Don’t be nervous, we’re not Filch.
We just think that whatever you’re hiding must be very interesting.”
Fred patted his arm and smiled frankly: “Don’t worry, our lips are sealed.” George glanced toward the end of the corridor: “Filch just left; it’s the perfect time to return to the dormitory.”
The two shared a smile and turned to vanish into the darkness.
“Next time there’s something fun, remember to call us!”
Baelon breathed a sigh of relief and noiselessly pushed open the dormitory door.
The lights inside had long been extinguished, with only faint moonlight filtering through the cracks in the window.
Just as he walked stealthily to his bedside, a lowered voice spoke from the darkness.
“You’re back at last.”
Baelon was startled and turned to look.
Michael Corner wasn’t asleep yet; he was propping himself up, his eyes shining in the dark as he watched him.
“I saw it from the window just now,” Michael said in a very low voice that couldn’t hide his excitement.
“I saw Sunfyre fly up with you on its back.”
Baelon lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling, the cool sensation of the wind and the warmth of the dragon scales still lingering on his fingertips.
“You saw it?”
“Of course I saw it!
A golden dragon, very clear in the moonlight.” His companion leaned in a bit, his tone full of curiosity, “Quick, tell me, what does it feel like to be a dragon rider?
Is it cool?”
Baelon laughed softly.
“The wind fills your collar, the hem of your clothes snaps in the air, and the vibration of the dragon’s body transmits straight to your heart.” He paused, his voice light and satisfied, “It’s cooler than riding any broomstick.”
Michael grinned silently in the dark, his eyes full of envy, but he was sensible enough not to ask more, only saying softly: “Go to sleep, we have to get up early tomorrow.”
“Yeah.”
Baelon closed his eyes, the sound of dragon wings cutting through the air still echoing in his mind.
The dormitory soon returned to silence, leaving only steady breathing.