Back in his alchemy workshop, Arthur took a long segment of Gransax's bone and refined it into a polished white necklace.
Then he retrieved Gransax's Lightning Spear, shrank it, and tied it to the chain as a pendant.
When everything was ready, he walked over to Ifrit.
"Ifrit, come try this on. Tell me if you like it."
He slipped the necklace around her neck.
The shrunken Lightning Spear immediately reacted to her presence—recognizing a power akin to its former master.
Red lightning surged out, flowing into Ifrit's body like a returning inheritance.
Her still-fragile lightning affinity soared.
Ifrit shivered slightly from the tingling sensation—then beamed.
"Ifrit loves it. Thank you, Master!"
Arthur nodded in satisfaction.
He had looted countless weapons across the Lands Between, but only a few truly suited him.
The Lightning Spear, while powerful, didn't mesh with his style—but for Ifrit, born with red lightning in her veins, it was perfect.
"Come on, I'm taking you to meet my family."
Ifrit nodded and—without being taught—shrunk into the shape of a tiny crimson serpent, curling comfortably around his shoulder.
She batted curiously at her new pendant, which had shrunk along with her.
Before Arthur even reached the exit of the Zen Garden, he ran into Raya.
She preferred playing with the garden animals to interacting with people, so she was often here.
Sensing Arthur's presence, she had come to find him.
Spotting the little red serpent on his shoulder, Raya tilted her head.
A faint pressure—dragon might—washed over her.
"Lord Arthur, who is this?" she asked.
"This is Ifrit. She's our new family member."
"Hello! I am Ifrit," the little dragon chirped politely.
"Hello, Ifrit. I am Raya."
Raya smiled warmly.
She wasn't even slightly jealous that Ifrit had taken her usual spot on Arthur's shoulder.
On the contrary, she looked delighted—another friend to play with.
She shifted into her tiny lizard form and climbed onto Arthur's other shoulder.
Immediately, she and Ifrit began chattering away in their own little animal language.
Arthur chuckled.
Looks like his shoulders were about to get a lot noisier.
Outside the garden, Arthur introduced Ifrit to the Grangers.
Ifrit politely greeted everyone.
Mr. and Mrs. Granger were surprised, but after living with Raya—a talking lizard from another world—a talking dragon wasn't too much of a stretch.
Hermione, however, stared at Ifrit with disbelief.
"This… is a Chinese Fireball Dragon?"
She had seen pictures in books—gruesome, spiky, terrifying creatures.
Ifrit, gleaming like a living ruby with soft golden mane and elegant limbs, was nothing like the illustrations.
Meanwhile, the Grangers were doting on her like a newborn child.
Hermione could almost see a mental pop-up above her head: "Family Status –1."
Arthur explained:
"She is a Fireball Dragon hatchling. But her bloodline has evolved—she's reached a higher tier."
"Tier?" Hermione repeated.
"Dragons are divided into five ranks:
Earth Dragons, Wyverns, Lesser Dragons, True Dragons, and Holy Dragons.
Most dragons you see in the wizarding world—Hungarian Horntails, Swedish Short-Snouts—are Wyvern-tier. They rarely exceed twenty-five meters."
He gestured toward the previous day's monstrous corpse.
"Ifrit, after her bloodline ascension, is a True Dragon.
Gransax—the white dragon you saw yesterday—was True Dragon tier as well."
Hermione stared at the tiny serpent-sized Ifrit on Arthur's shoulder.
"So she can grow… that big?"
"In time, yes," Arthur confirmed.
"But True Dragons have extremely long lifespans. A hundred years may feel like a nap to them."
He paused.
Gods aren't much different, he thought silently.
At that moment, the doorbell rang urgently.
Hermione opened it—and Draco burst in, panicked.
"Arthur, help! Hydrea—something's wrong with her! As soon as I reached your street, she went all limp!"
He held out his beloved baby dragon.
Hydrea was trembling—then shivered even harder once she spotted Ifrit.
Arthur scanned her with his mental power.
Healthy. Slightly chubby. Definitely not sick.
Then he glanced at Ifrit.
Ah.
As an upper-tier dragon, Ifrit naturally suppressed lower-tier dragons just by existing.
And since she was newborn, her draconic aura wasn't fully controlled—likely blanketing the entire neighborhood.
No wonder there weren't even insects near the house.
Only the Granger household remained unaffected—because Ifrit subconsciously exempted anyone Arthur labeled as "family."
Even Draco himself looked pale and shaky; he just hadn't noticed because he was panicking over Hydrea.
"Ifrit," Arthur said gently, "try suppressing your aura."
"Yes, Master."
Ifrit nodded and dimmed her draconic presence.
Draco finally realized there was another dragon perched on Arthur—one that could talk.
And… she was beautiful.
Of course. This was Arthur.
Normal rules didn't apply to him.
As Ifrit withdrew her aura, Hydrea perked up, though she still stared at Ifrit with deep respect.
Draco exhaled in relief.
"Thanks, Arthur."
"No problem. I suggest learning Hermione's Animal Communication Charm.
No matter how close you two are, it's not as fast as talking directly. If you could understand Hydrea, you wouldn't have panicked so badly."
Draco flushed.
"I—I'm learning it. I haven't succeeded yet, but I think I'm close!"
"Good. Keep at it."
Draco hesitated before asking:
"So… your dragon… what is she exactly? Hydrea seems terrified."
"Ifrit is a higher-tier dragon. She was just born, so she can't fully control her aura yet. Hydrea's just reacting to the rank difference."
"Ah. So she's… powerful."
Very powerful.
And newly hatched.
Arthur then remembered something.
"Draco, go call your godfather and his family. Tell them I'm cooking tonight—they're invited.
And you can stay too."
Draco's eyes sparkled like Christmas lights as he sprinted out of the house.
Arthur's cooking was legendary.
He'd eaten it once and nearly swallowed his tongue.
Arthur wasn't cooking on a whim—he wanted to celebrate Ifrit's birth.
He did not see her as a pet.
Ifrit was intelligent, gentle, affectionate—like a young child.
To Arthur, she was family.
Same as Raya.
Family deserved a feast.
Thanks to his magical multitasking and overwhelming spiritual power, Arthur controlled multiple stoves at once—necessary because Ifrit's appetite was already absurd, and dragons were pure carnivores.
As he cooked, Arthur sighed.
Their house had too many big eaters…
It was time to "borrow" a couple Hogwarts house-elves.
Hogwarts was legally under his name.
Technically, the elves were under his authority too.
Perfectly reasonable.
At dinner, Ifrit instantly became the new beloved mascot.
Everyone took turns feeding her meat.
She used chopsticks—skillfully, adorably—to demolish her food.
Hydrea did not eat at the table.
Not because anyone disliked her—she simply didn't dare sit near Ifrit.
Draco prepared a separate plate for her.
Snape and his family soon arrived.
He had heard from Draco that Arthur's dragon was "higher rank," and seeing Ifrit in person made him even more intrigued.
As a potions master, Snape knew the value of fire-dragon materials.
But a dragon like this?
He could only imagine the alchemical properties.
Perhaps sensing his… covetous thoughts—or maybe simply annoyed at being stared at—Ifrit lifted her head and shot Snape a cold glare.
Her aura surged for a split second.
Snape's fork trembled in his hand.
A chill crawled down his spine—like a beast ancient and primeval had locked onto him.
He instantly understood how Hydrea felt.
He glared at Draco internally.
Why didn't you tell me the aura affects humans too?!
Arthur, of course, noticed.
"If you want to know something, just ask. Don't bother the child while she eats."
Snape's mouth twitched.
Child?
Your "child" is capable of scaring elite wizards by accident.
"…Draco mentioned something called 'dragon ranks.' Can you explain?"
Arthur repeated the hierarchy he'd explained earlier.
Snape listened intently, genuinely fascinated.
"So why do wizards only have Earth Dragons and Wyverns left?"
"How should I know? Probably extinction." Arthur shrugged.
"And Ifrit?"
"She's special. You could say I purified her bloodline."
"I see…" Snape hesitated. "Then… could you make one for me too?"
Ifrit was stunning.
If Dumbledore could keep a phoenix, why couldn't the soon-to-be acting Headmaster raise a beautiful dragon?
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