Hogwarts: I'm Truly a Model Wizard

"How timely…" Newt wiped the sweat from his forehead and asked, "I thought you were with the Romanian Ministry of Magic. Why are you here?"

"It's all been taken care of," Chris replied, stepping forward to help Kyle with a Windy Spell to pull the Romanian Longhorn out of the swamp.

"Honestly, the past few days have been a bore. I've been stuck at endless events and work meetings with them. And that's not all—when I get back to the Ministry, I'll have to write at least five reports. Makes me wish I hadn't come."

"When you work at the Ministry, you'll always have to put up with this," Newt said with a sympathetic smile. "It was the same for Tina and Theseus. After every mission, there was always a mountain of reports to write."

"Yeah…" Chris sighed, then turned his attention to the Romanian Longhorn, checking its injuries alongside Newt.

"It's exhausted, and a few bones are broken," Newt noted, taking a bottle of potion from his suitcase and gently pouring it into the dragon's mouth. "But thankfully, nothing life-threatening. No major external injuries either, so it should recover in a few weeks."

Once they finished tending to the dragon, Newt pulled out a device resembling a conch shell and tapped it with his wand. Moments later, several dragon keepers arrived on broomsticks. After expressing their thanks, they loaded the dragon into a specially reinforced black cage and flew off. The dragon would be taken to a secluded valley at the far end of the reserve, a perfect spot for housing dragons with serious injuries.

Chris decided to stick around after that, so with his help, Kyle was free to focus on gathering materials. Chris even taught him a useful Charm for collecting lightweight objects nearby, making it much easier to gather drops of dragon's blood.

Once the melee finally ended, the three of them returned to the grounds. Kyle headed back to the tent to go through his haul, while Chris decided to check out the nearby wizarding market.

"I heard the first thing dragon keepers here do after payday is head straight to buy a pair of Old John's Shield Gloves," Chris said as they reached the tent. "I found out where the shop is—it's right in the center of the market. Those gloves would make a perfect gift for your mother."

"And… what about for me?" Kyle asked, raising his eyebrows. "Are the gloves for me too?"

"For you?" Chris looked puzzled for a second. "A gift?"

"Yes, a gift," Kyle replied, giving him a pointed look.

"A gift…," Chris stammered, then quickly recovered. "Oh, well, if you want a pair too…" He held out his hand. "Fifty Galleons for the gloves, and I'll pick up a pair for you."

"Money?" Kyle blinked in disbelief. We're family, he thought, why the difference in treatment?

"What's wrong with that?" Chris said matter-of-factly. "I already gave you your birthday gift, and don't think I don't know that you've picked up quite a few valuable things over the past few days. That pint of dragon's blood alone is worth a small fortune, not to mention the teeth, scales, and claws you've gathered… Your haul in two days is more than my salary for two months."

"But I collected it all bit by bit… I'm only getting about four hours of sleep a day—it's hard work," Kyle muttered. "Besides, I'm keeping all that stuff for myself, not selling it."

"Oh, stop complaining," Chris smirked. "So, do you want the help or not? If not, I'm leaving."

He added with a grin, "Seriously though, the Shield Gloves here are top-notch—several grades better than what you'll find anywhere else. Even at 60 Galleons, they're a good deal."

"Sixty Galleons?" Kyle raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you just say fifty?"

"Fifty Galleons for a standard pair," Chris replied smoothly. "But since it's a rare trip, you should definitely get the upgraded version. It's only an extra ten Galleons."

Kyle eyed him suspiciously, but Chris's expression was unchanging. Urging him to make up his mind quickly, Chris added that if they waited much longer, the shop might close. Relenting, Kyle decided to go ahead with it. It was a rare trip, after all, and it couldn't hurt to bring back something memorable.

"Why don't I go with you?" Kyle offered.

"No need," Chris shook his head. "It's a bit chaotic there, and there are usually some dodgy characters hanging around. Not the best place for a young wizard. I'll handle it—you stay here with Mr. Scamander."

"Alright," Kyle agreed, pulling a small pouch from his pocket. Inside were the thirty Galleons he'd earned earlier from Professor Lochneal. He added another thirty Galleons and handed it over.

Chris raised an eyebrow. Sixty Galleons was no small amount, and he hadn't expected Kyle to hand it over so easily, as if it were just a handful of Sickles. Just how much had this kid earned at school?

Without further comment, Chris pocketed the money and left the tent. Kyle resumed sorting through the items on the table, eventually dividing up the dragon blood and other materials. Feeling a bit sheepish about keeping most of the haul, he tried to give Newt a larger portion of the dragon blood, but Newt only smiled, taking the smaller bottle with a gentle shake of his head.

Later that evening, Chris returned and tossed Kyle a pair of black-and-gray gloves. Made of dragon hide, they were tough and textured but surprisingly flexible, conforming to Kyle's hands as soon as he put them on.

The gloves were far superior to the standard dragon hide ones he'd been using, which were a bit too big and tended to slip. These new gloves felt secure and comfortable, and although he hadn't tested their anti-curse abilities, he trusted Chris's recommendation.

That night, a bonfire was lit in the field. Chris brought over a bottle of Dragon Barrel Brandy he'd bought at the market and sat down with some friends, gathering around the barbecue to drink and chat. Though they didn't plan to drink much, each had a small sip, cautious not to overdo it with dragons nearby.

"This isn't authentic," Charlie scoffed, smirking as he sipped. "You must've bought one of those cheap knock-offs Old Brown uses to swindle tourists."

"Fake?" Chris took another sip, finding it tasted fine.

"Oh, that old rascal is clever. He's a master at tricking visitors with his brews. Even we locals get fooled sometimes." Charlie chuckled. "Give me the bottle later—I'll help you exchange it for the real stuff. Proper Dragon Brandy'll have you spitting fire after the first sip."

Chris looked at his drink, surprised. He hadn't known that.

While the others chatted, Kyle found Professor Lochneal in the crowd and sold him the surplus dragon materials they'd sorted out earlier. Thanks to Chris taking over his duties, Kyle had more time to collect items, and this batch fetched him fifty-three Galleons. Adding it to the thirty Galleons he'd earned before, he had enough to cover the cost of the gloves with a little extra leftover.