Portuguese Long-Snout Eliminated!

The cold wind howled, cutting cruelly across Harry and his companions' faces like razor blades.

The sun hanging in the blue sky seemed like an illusion, bringing no warmth whatsoever.

Now, they are heading to Hagrid.

Shortly after Ginny ran out, Hagrid's letter arrived via Hedwig.

Hagrid invited Harry and his friends over for breakfast, and to talk about the topics they had been planning to discuss the day before.

The misunderstanding from that morning had already been resolved after Ginny thought it over carefully.

But Ginny remained aloof and unapproachable towards Ron, much like the occasional cold wind that swept through the room.

She kept Harry firmly to her left, far away from Ron on her right.

According to Ginny, she decided to keep Harry and Ron at a distance until Ron found a girlfriend.

"What's wrong with you guys?" Draco tiptoed to Ron's right and nudged Ron with his elbow.

"Nothing."

"No—okay, if you really want to know."

"Today in the dorm, Ginny saw what happened between Harry and me because of an accident—" Ron glanced at Ginny out of the corner of his eye and stammered.

"What?" Draco pressed.

"It's similar to that photo."

"What photo?"

"Rita Skeeter's picture." Ron and Draco asked and answered each other, and before they knew it, Harry and the others had walked far away.

"Hey, wait for us!"

In the blink of an eye, they had arrived at Hagrid's Hut.

"Kids, you must be hungry." The sausages in Hagrid's frying pan sizzled.

Ron swallowed hard, wanting to say something, but Arasped, bouncing around on the spiderweb in the corner of the room, kept him silent.

"Mmm, it's delicious."

"What's this made of? It tastes a bit like chicken." Harry started eating the sausage that Ginny fed him from the plate of chickpeas.

"Dragon meat."

"It took me a lot of effort to figure out how to deal with it."

"Can you believe it? Just marinate it in the secretions of the Diricawl for ten minutes." Hagrid exclaimed in amazement.

Ron felt nauseous, unsure whether it was from Arasped or from the Diricawl.

Ron knows it very well.

Before Ginny was born, their house wasn't as clean as it is now.

The Diricawl is a Fantastic Beasts found all over the world, adept at crawling under floors and behind walls.

It has many eyes and looks a lot like a slightly greenish fungus.

They appear in groups in dwellings, feed on filth, and can destroy entire houses.

The stench of rotting things usually attracts Diricawl, which then secrete juices to digest them.

That's why Ron hardly touched the sausages again for the rest of the time.

Ginny and the other two ate with great relish.

Ginny knew little about the Diricawl because she had hardly seen it since Ginny was born.

Draco and Harry are the same.

They had never encountered such rampant and Care of Magical Creatures in their living environment.

Ryan, who was holed up in his dorm, smacked his lips. He never imagined that Hagrid would handle dragon meat like this.

He understood Ron very well; Ron's behavior was actually the same as the process of making Old Phlegm Pickled Cabbage that he had heard about in his previous life.

The scene shifts back to Hagrid, where Harry has finished eating the last sausage, and Ginny is thoughtfully wiping Harry mouth.

"Hagrid, is there something you want to ask?" Ron asked, trying to avoid looking at Harry and diverting his attention.

"Professor Dumbledore suggested that I seek your opinion."

"Here's the thing, for next year's Triwizard Tournament, I'm planning to select a group of Care of Magical Creatures, as you all know what I like. The Ministry of Magic informed me that if I really want them, I can choose three from the following types of dragons: the Hebridean Black Dragon, the Peruvian Vipertooth, the Portuguese Long-Snout, and the Hungarian Horntail." Hagrid's eyes seemed to light up as he read the names of the dragons.

"Remove the Hebridean Black Dragon?"

"They are on the Hebdiri Islands in Scotland, not far from Hogwarts."

"Moreover, the MacFusty (a wizarding family) have maintained the tradition of caring for the Hebridean Black Dragon."

"You can easily ask for one in the name of Hogwarts."

"In the Triwizard Tournament —well, I think we should choose the rarer dragon," Draco, a dragon enthusiast, analyzed meticulously.

"But—they're so cute: black, rough scales, a row of shallow but razor-sharp ridges on their backs, a sharp arrowhead at the tip of their tails, wings like bats, and a pair of rare, bright purple eyes." Hagrid tugged at his long beard, his small, black beetle-like eyes filled with conflict.

"That Peruvian Vipertooth?"

"There are so many of them that we need to send in additional dragon-slaying teams."

"And it's also the origin of Dragon Pox." Draco, whose grandfather died of Dragon Pox, cast the crucial vote for the Peruvian Vipertooth.

"But—it is the smallest of all known dragons, yet the fastest in flight, measuring only about fifteen feet in length. It also has the smoothest, brass-colored scales." Hagrid refused again.

"Hungarian Horntail? It's too dangerous."

"It is the most vicious and aggressive type of fire dragon."

"The flames travel a long distance, about 50 feet," Draco said, covering his face with his right hand, and analyzed again with a helpless expression.

However, when Draco uttered the most vicious and aggressive words, Harry knew the outcome without even hearing them.

"No, no, no!"

"It absolutely cannot be ruled out!"

"It is covered in black scales, has a lizard-like appearance, yellow eyes and bronze horns, and its tail is covered with sharp spikes that are almost bronze in color."

"With that ferocious firepower, is there any dragon cuter than it?" Sure enough, just as Harry had predicted, Hagrid suddenly stood up, waving his large, fan-like hands, his emotions running high.

"Then it's only the Portuguese Long-Snout!" Ron, who hadn't been able to get a word in edgewise about dragons, suddenly raised his hand.

Draco rolled his eyes.

Hagrid was already a little annoyed by Hagrid's repeated rejections, and Ron's quick answer filled him with a desire for revenge.

Draco then looked at Hagrid with a wicked grin.

"It's not impossible," Hagrid stammered.

Draco, looking utterly bewildered, rubbed his ears—had he misheard?

"Then what are you hesitating for!"

"You clearly already have the answer!" Draco retorted irritably.

"I've never seen it."

"I've never seen a live Portuguese Long-Snout," Hagrid a shy smile.

His expression was as if he were about to see his beloved, long-lost girl.

"I'm really fed up with you!" Draco couldn't help but roll his eyes.