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For real-time updates, please visit ?? On their way back to the dormitory area, they encountered several patrol teams. Anthony suspected that Charlie had deliberately chosen the busiest route. During their return, they met more researchers than Anthony had ever seen in the dormitory area.
And whenever these researchers chatted with Charlie for a bit, they would inevitably hear him ask, "By the way, have you seen my storage pouch?"
"No, did you lose it?" asked the researcher named Delmar, frowning. "What did you put in it, Charlie? How valuable was it?"
Charlie grinned. "I didn't lose it. I gave it to Norbert."
Delmar shrugged. "Alright. I once gave Norbert a broomstick, so I guess I can't really laugh at you. Yesterday, I also gave Joanna half a leather jacket."
"No, Delmar, I gave it to Norbert—willingly," Charlie boasted. "I got this close to an awake dragon, gave it a Christmas gift, and came back completely unharmed. No roaring, no fangs, no flames, no tail whips."
Delmar stared at him, mouth half-open, as if momentarily unsure whether Charlie had gone mad.
Charlie cheerfully led Anthony and Hagrid away, not even giving them a chance to say goodbye.
"Delmar is going to be green with envy," Charlie said, unable to hide the excitement in his voice. "Oh, Merry Christmas, Andrea! Have you seen my storage pouch?"
…
Perhaps because they spent too much time in the mountains avoiding the Longhorn dragons and greeting people, by the time the three of them returned to the dormitory area, it was already past two in the afternoon. The dining hall was closed, so Charlie found a few boxes of biscuits in his room and shared them with Anthony and Hagrid as lunch.
In the afternoon, Charlie went to a nearby town to mail the Christmas gifts he had prepared, while Hagrid stayed in the room, continuing to study for his Chimera breeding permit exam. Anthony even found an opportunity to visit the Dragonology library in the reserve, where he read with great interest Cooking Vegetables for Your Dragon and Golden Horns: A Guide to Longhorn Dragon Aesthetics.
By evening, the researchers seemed to have suddenly appeared out of nowhere, crowding into the dining hall for the Christmas feast. Compared to Hogwarts, the Christmas decorations at the Romanian Dragon Reserve were rather simple. Apart from the large Christmas tree in the corner of the dining hall and the holly wreaths on the doors, the only thing that made Anthony feel the festive atmosphere was the sheer number of people.
People were everywhere. Charlie led Anthony and Hagrid into the dining hall, glanced at Hagrid, and carefully scanned the empty seats, trying to find a spot big enough for the three of them.
Someone deliberately called out to Charlie, "Hey, Charlie! Where's your storage pouch?"
"Gave it to Norbert!" Charlie declared proudly.
Several researchers laughed and pulled them over to sit with them. To make room for Hagrid, the group squeezed tightly together, desperately making space on the bench. Hagrid hesitated for a moment before accepting their invitation with a hearty laugh.
"You're the exchange scholar from Hogwarts, right?" they asked. "Charlie's been looking forward to your visit for ages."
Anthony replied, "We've also been looking forward to visiting the Dragon Reserve for a long time."
They chatted about Quidditch matches, discussed Christmas traditions from their hometowns, and scorned the Romanian Ministry of Magic's new regulations for a while before the topic inevitably returned to dragons. Hagrid almost instantly won their friendship and was offered drink after drink.
By the time the smiling chef ladled a large spoonful of eggplant salad onto each of their plates, Hagrid was already a bit tipsy, his voice growing louder. Charlie and the others were engaged in a heated debate about whether a dragon named Joanna was about to lay another egg.
The dining hall was brightly lit, making the grease and plates gleam. Anthony comfortably nestled in a corner seat by the edge, quietly discussing the eggplant salad, fried salted meat, and stuffed cabbage rolls with another researcher beside him.
"Exactly, it's a mix of minced beef and lamb, with the right amount of chopped onions," the researcher said. "We grow and pickle the cabbage ourselves. The onions are bought from a nearby town." He lowered his voice. "The beef and lamb are leftovers from feeding the dragons. Patrick only likes the internal organs of his prey. Every time he goes to the medical field, we end up eating beef or lamb for days."
He sounded a bit like he was complaining, but Anthony detected a hint of pride in his tone.
"That's really good," Anthony said sincerely. Having a dragon that prefers beef and lamb innards was definitely better than one that ate dead rats.
…
In the center of the square, a massive bonfire burned, surrounded by smaller clusters of fires. Amid the crackling of burning wood, countless sparks flew out, swirling around the rising thick smoke.
Small tables and chairs were scattered around the square, and the corners of the square were also lit with flames, but instead of smoke, white steam rose from them. People flocked in that direction.
Swept along by the crowd, Anthony followed and caught the distinctive aroma of mulled wine. As he drew closer, he realized there were four cauldrons—the largest he had ever seen—set up there. Several wizards stood by the cauldrons, tossing in orange slices, apple chunks, and spices like cinnamon, directing a person-sized ladle to stir the mixture while constantly handing out cups of mulled wine to the outstretched hands.
Once everyone had something warm in their hands—mulled wine, roasted meat, or fried doughnuts—people began pulling up chairs and sitting down. Charlie, Anthony, and several researchers dragged tables and chairs to a sheltered spot and played Exploding Snap.
Anthony had no idea how to play the card game used in the reserve, but that didn't stop him from enjoying it when the cards exploded. Not far away, Hagrid was listening intently to something Delmar was saying, his head bowed.
By midnight, the night had grown darker and colder. Everyone gathered around the bonfire, holding their cups and talking loudly. Suddenly, a burst of enthusiastic cheers erupted from the crowd.
"What's going on?" Anthony asked.
Charlie stood on tiptoe, trying to peer over people's shoulders. "I don't know—oh!"
He didn't need to say anything—Anthony saw it too. Barbara's enormous, clumsy dragon model lumbered slowly into view. A dozen or so young people shouted, "Good evening, Barbara!" as they circled around it and rushed into the open doors of a tall warehouse.
It took Anthony a moment to notice that Barbara was standing beside her model, examining the cup of mulled wine someone had handed her.
"Make it fly around, Barbara!" someone pleaded.
"Make some noise!" another person shouted. "Make it roar!"
Barbara looked surprised. "No problem."
The creaking wooden dragon model raised its head and let out a long, horn-like, deafening roar before spewing bright flames into the sky. The crowd cheered even louder.
"Merry Christmas!" a few people yelled.
More raised their cups. "Merry Christmas!"
Barbara looked even more astonished. "Is it Christmas today?"
"It's Christmas!" someone near her shouted, sounding already drunk. "No, it's Christmas Eve! Wait, no, it's Christmas today! Join us, Barbara! Cheers!"
Just then, the dozen or so young people who had run into the warehouse returned, men and women alike, all wearing leather cloaks and sporting large dragon head models on their heads. Amid the cheers, they let out strange cries, shook their bodies, and spread their arms, imitating the flight of dragons.
People began rhythmically tapping their cups against nearby tables, the ground, or rocks until it sounded like a drumbeat.
More researchers stood up and joined the oddly postured dragon dance. The roaring flames in the center of the square leaped almost as high as the dragon model. The firelight danced on its fierce face.
Charlie gestured to Anthony, and after Anthony shook his head in refusal, he joined the dance alone.
At first, he was somewhat restrained, just swaying left and right with the music in the crowd. But when Anthony spotted him again a while later, he was singing a song with lyrics Anthony couldn't understand, arms spread wide as he spun forward, deftly avoiding anyone in his path as if he were a dragon soaring through the sky.
From somewhere, the sound of a wind instrument began to play. After a few notes, people started singing along to an even livelier tune. Its rhythm was upbeat, and the melody was simple yet passionate. After a few bars, even Anthony could hum along.
"Come on, Henry!" Charlie shouted as he passed by again. "Look at Hagrid!"
Hagrid was stretching his arms, clumsily paddling the air as he spun around, thoroughly enjoying himself. The people near him laughed and made way for him or followed behind, wobbling as they "flew."
The people wearing dragon heads flew past Anthony on broomsticks. In the flickering firelight, he finally saw the two golden horns on their heads. These heads—undoubtedly prototypes from Barbara's dragon model-making—had half-open, hollow eyes, and colorful ribbons tied to their horns fluttered in the cold wind as they ran.
Charlie was swept away again by the joyful crowd to the other side of the bonfire. These people kept dancing, laughing, and talking loudly, as if they had boundless energy. Cups lay scattered on the ground, the firelight dancing playfully on their surfaces.
Anthony walked to a corner, asked the wizards for another cup of mulled wine, and slowly sipped it as he circled the square, eventually finding his way back to his room.
The night was already very late. Beside him, a smaller bonfire was nearly burnt out, its orange-red embers glowing like breathing in the ashes.
Even from two or three houses away, Anthony could still hear the cheerful music drifting through the night air. Suddenly, a jingling of bells rang out. Anthony stopped and looked around. It turned out to be a few people with bells tied around their waists, hurrying toward the square to join the celebration.
Anthony watched them run off into the distance. Only then did he realize how clear the night was, with tiny stars twinkling in the dark sky above him.
"Meow."
Anthony turned and saw his cat sitting upright on the rooftop, with the spectral mouse perched on its back. The spectral chicken was crouched beside them.
He stared at them for a moment and smiled.
"Let's go," he said to the three pairs of eyes. "It's time for bed."
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