Smut and fluff

Prove Your Worth

Summary:

Harry had always been fascinated by dragons. When he secured a job as a stable hand for Lord Tomlinson, he finally had a chance to work up close with his favorite creatures. But one late night the mysterious lord showed him just how close he could get.

Harry arrived promptly at seven for his interview with the stablemaster. It was a chilly morning, but Harry was too excited by the prospect of seeing any dragons to feel the breeze through his threadbare cardigan. His heart pounded as he pedaled his bicycle up the winding drive of the Tomlinson Estate. The large manor came into view as the trees thinned. Harry coasted over to the barn, jumped off his bike, and leaned it against a wall.

"Hiya, Harry is it?" An older man with a greying beard appeared out of the barn, wiping his hands on the leg of his denim dungarees, before offering his right in greeting. The man introduced himself as Mac, the stablemaster.

Mac took Harry a tour of the Estate while describing the stable hand position Harry had inquired about. Harry happily tagged along, walking beside Mac as they talked, and kept his eyes peeled for a glimpse of a dragon that might be hiding behind a rock or up in a tree.

"It's a large estate," Mac said looking out over the various buildings surrounding the manor house. "There's lots to do, so I can't be taking too much time to show you the ropes."

"That's alright. I'm fairly handy on my own and I've worked on a farm before."

"Livestock or dragons?" Mac asked

It was a reasonable question for this interview, yet Harry hesitated to answer. He was afraid the truth would deter from hiring him. But he'd rather not lie at the first direct question Mac asked. "So far only livestock. Cows and pigs mostly. And hens. But I have read a lot about dragons." Harry tucked his hands into his pants pockets to keep from nervously fidgeting under the stablemaster's scrutiny.

What Harry lacked in experience with dragons, he made up for in enthusiasm. His passion for the mystical beasts started early. His grandmother had always told tales from her youth, recounting all the dragons she'd encountered in the wild. He would hang on every word as she described the various species she'd seen. On special days, she would even let him peer into her keepsake box, filled with collected colourful scales and sharp teeth she'd found in the forest by her house. But, over the years as she grew up, hunting and black market trading of dragons took its toll. By the time Harry was born, dragons were rare pets for the rich and famous and even more elusive and rare in the wild. Only the wealthiest of people could even dream of owning a dragon, let alone an entire collection, as Lord Tomlinson kept.

"Alright," Mac huffed. Harry couldn't get a read on his expression. Then, they were moving on. As they walked, He pointed a crooked thumb behind him. "That there is the main barn. We have caprine dragons, hendragons, and a few breeds of drakes. That's where you'll be working. This building in front of us–" Mac pointed to the even larger stone building stretched out before them– "is the stable. The lord keeps his favourites in here. You won't be working with any of them." Harry tried not to let those words get to him, but it was a bit disappointing to hear, nonetheless. "There is a storage room at the back where I keep all my tools and stuff. If you need anything, it'll probably be back there."

Mac led them back to the barn where they'd started. He lifted a metal latch and pushed open the wooden door. Harry had to duck his head to step over the threshold. The barn was silent, no dragons huffing or stomping in the stalls. Harry glanced around the barn, at the dozen stalls standing empty. He pouted; he'd been following Mac around for nearly an hour and hadn't seen even one dragon. Maybe the Tomlinson collection wasn't as big as it was rumored to be.