Imagine Bucky meeting Charlie Weasley in Romania.
“Hullo,” Charlie says, “are you the new guy?”
The man with the metal arm looks absolutely blinkered, and looks at the small hatchling Charlie is dandling on his knee.
“Is that a dragon?” he asks. “Not the new guy.”
“I reckon he’s a muggle who somehow wandered in,” says Rick with a pinched frown. “Best to obliviate him before he loses a limb.”
“Too late for that, mate,” Charlie says. “Anyway, he doesn’t seem too upset.”
“Not upset,” Bucky nods, as though he understands at all what’s being said or going on. “That one has feathers. I didn’t know dragons had feathers.”
“Ah, yes,” Charlie says, and picks up the small creature.
“It’s Andrezj’s first molt, so they’re everywhere. Do you want to hold him? he hasn’t learned to spit venom yet. They’re sweet at that age.”
“Charlie, why wouldn’t the muggle proofing work,” Rick asks, looking somehow more concerned as Bucky accepts the dragon baby from Charlie.
“Magic, right?” Bucky says, and grins. “I have a couple very large metal plates in my head which work hard to block illusion. I don’t dream either. A nuisance at the airport, but I always know what I’m looking at.”
“How about that,” Charlie says. “You’re wizard-proofed.”
“My name is Charlie, and this bloke with the wand up his ass is Rick.”
“I’m Bucky,” Bucky says. “I’ve been camping in the woods for weeks. I have wild game, mushrooms and berries. Can I share your fire?”
“Of course,” Charlie says. “As long as you keep the egg upright in it.”
The dragon whelp has taken a shining to the newcomer after all.