The shadows of the Forbidden Forest's trees swayed in the night wind, their branches and leaves rubbing together with a rustling sound.
Beneath a night curtain shrouded in dark clouds.
Snape gripped Hermione's wrist, his black robes billowing like waves as his footsteps flew, swift and soundless. Hermione was practically being dragged along, her legs barely able to keep up with his pace.
But Snape had no intention of slowing down.
He had no choice.
Of course Snape was anxious.
The experienced Snape was certain that this was not a Dragon Roar. He had encountered quite a few dragons in his life, living and dead alike. It could be said that most skilled potion-makers were Fantastic Beasts experts, since many Potion Ingredients came from Fantastic Beasts. Potions Masters therefore knew Fantastic Beasts very well.
Yet.
That sound just now, which resembled a Dragon Roar, was definitely not a roar any dragon species he knew could produce. That sound contained a power that directly intimidated the soul!
Dragons did not possess such a trait!
Their roars were certainly terrifying and could frighten many timid creatures, even wizards, but they could never shake the composure of a wizard like Snape.
As everyone knew.
There were only so many dragon species on the entire planet. The common Welsh Green Dragon was small, less than twenty feet long, and its roar was graceful and pleasant, nowhere near as soul-stirring as this.
The Hebridean Black Dragon was larger than the common Welsh Green Dragon, hot-tempered, and required a vast territory. It had jet-black scales, purple eyes, and a row of sharp spines along its back.
But its cry was nothing remarkable either.
The Australian Opaleye, Romanian Longhorn, Swedish Short-Snout, Peruvian Vipertooth, Chinese Fireball, and Norwegian Ridgeback merely had louder voices at most.
The only dragons