Hogwarts' Niffler: All I Need Is Galleons

Hoare raised an eyebrow, curious to hear what new things Draco might say.

"Hagrid's actually raising a dragon!!!" Draco exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with excitement, as if he owned a dragon himself.

So it's this time, Hoare thought.

He vaguely remembered that Quirrell had bribed Hagrid with a dragon egg to gain access to the room hiding the Philosopher's Stone, exchanging it for the weakness of the three-headed dog.

It seemed that Dumbledore still kept the Philosopher's Stone in that room on the third floor, and Number Two had fallen for it as well.

Hoare wondered what expression Number Two would have after going through all the trouble to get the Philosopher's Stone, only to find it was just an empty shell.

However, Hoare had lost interest in both the Philosopher's Stone and Number Two, as long as Number Two didn't cause him any trouble.

What intrigued Hoare most now was the baby dragon in front of him.

Dragons were endangered in the wizarding world, scarce and difficult to breed.

Their materials were priceless.

A dragon's skin could resist about eighty percent of damage. The dragon materials on the market were mostly shed naturally during their growth and were sold in limited quantities by the Romanian Dragon Protection Association.

If circumstances allowed, Hoare would love to raise a dragon himself.

Unfortunately, in the wizarding world, privately raising dragons was illegal.

Dragons were extremely dangerous and not easily tamed magical creatures, capable of harming or even eating people.

Yes, humans were on a dragon's menu.

Even wizards could end up covered in wounds when encountering a dragon.

Hoare remembered the last time he saw his second brother Charlie, who had numerous scars from dragons, which he wore with pride.

Charlie was studying fire dragons in Romania.

If Draco really told his father about Hagrid raising a dragon, combined with the Ministry of Magic's eagerness to trouble Dumbledore, Dumbledore would have to make significant concessions to protect Hagrid.

Hoare noticed Draco's gaze on the baby dragon and raised an eyebrow.

He had a good idea.

Maybe he could profit from both Dumbledore and Draco, and even get some free dragon materials!

"Do you want to raise a dragon?" Hoare asked from the side, not needing Draco's answer to know it.

To be honest, Draco's gaze at the baby dragon was so gentle that it gave Hoare goosebumps.

Draco stubbornly said, "I don't want to, I'm just looking."

He angrily cursed, "Oh, stupid Hagrid, how could he let a newly hatched dragon live on such an ordinary fire?"

Then his expression turned into something indescribable, like a silly smile, as he muttered, "Look, it's so cute."

"If—" Hoare leaned in to Draco's ear, "if I could find a way for you to raise this dragon?"

Draco's eyes lit up, filled with longing as he looked at Hoare, "Really!?"

But then his expression dimmed, "My father wouldn't allow it, the cost of raising a dragon is too high."

Even someone as wealthy as the Malfoys could afford a dragon.

But it wasn't necessary; if it was just for viewing and playing, such behavior couldn't even be described as extravagant.

A dragon's consumption was enormous, with a young dragon eating a dozen sheep in one meal, and an adult requiring hundreds per day.

"Don't worry, I can convince your father to raise it," Hoare said, looking at Draco. "But, Draco, you have to promise me."

"Before I discuss it with your father, don't write to the Ministry of Magic to report the baby dragon."

"If the Ministry finds out about it, we won't be able to do anything, and they might even execute the poor baby dragon."

Of course, Hoare was exaggerating a bit.

But he had no choice, as Draco sometimes acted impulsively.

To spite someone, he could do anything.

If he accidentally argued with Harry again, he might immediately write a report to cause trouble for Harry, something he was entirely capable of doing.

Draco listened to Hoare, scratched his head, and muttered that he understood.

"This is my dragon, why would I report it?"

In the end, Draco didn't report it; someone else did.

When Hoare found out, he almost exploded!

He had his eyes on that dragon for a long time!

A fully grown dragon had so many valuable materials for crafting!

He could have gotten them for free! Now he had nothing!

Hoare, fuming, gripped his wand and stormed back to the Slytherin Common Room, with Draco and Blaise following closely behind.

Unaware classmates inexplicably saw an aura more terrifying than Headmaster Snape's on Hoare.

"Millicent? Bosted!"

Hoare pushed open the common room door, and Millicent Bosted, the former roommate who constantly nagged Hoare, was sitting on a sofa chatting with other students, laughing heartily.

Seeing his face, Hoare thought of the dragon materials that slipped away from him!

He rushed forward, grabbed Millicent Bosted by the collar, and slammed him against the sofa back, pressing his wand against Bosted's throat.

"Heh, look who it is? Weasley?" Bosted's tone was mocking. "I advise you to let me go quickly. If the headmaster sees this, you'll be kicked out of Slytherin!"

Hoare, furious, laughed, "Oh really? I'd love to see if the headmaster will help you after knowing what you've done!" The tip of Hoare's wand began to glow green.

Bosted's heart skipped a beat at the sight of the green light.

Green! That spell!? Impossible, impossible!

Dumbledore wouldn't allow anyone at the school to learn dark magic!

Bosted swallowed hard, still defiantly shouting, "You wouldn't dare do anything to me! Slytherin wands aren't allowed to be pointed at fellow housemates, Hoare Weasley! Are you going to offend all of Slytherin?"

With Bosted's words, other Slytherins in the common room stood up, gripping their wands tightly, watching the two of them.

Hoare sneered, "Thanks for the reminder."

He deftly put away his wand and slowly stood up.

Bosted thought Hoare was scared, adjusted his collar, and arrogantly said, "Weasley, I suggest you go back to Gryffindor! Slytherin doesn't welcome you!"

Hoare stood in front of Bosted, flexed his wrists, then slowly took off his cumbersome robe and tossed it onto a nearby sofa.

Then, he gave a friendly smile.

"Bang!"

Bosted, along with the sofa, crashed straight into the wall.

"Weasley! I'll kill you!"