Siobhan let out a brief sigh of relief that she [i]hadn't[/i] said the wrong thing after a few moments of worry as Kyle's eyes widened. At first she'd thought she'd been unintentionally offensive, that perhaps her new friend was scared of dragons (which would have put a damper on the whole thing), but when he asked her if they were dangerous, she couldn't help but smile.

"They're... well, I want to say that they aren't dangerous, but they are. Just a little," she said. "I'm only allowed to work with the hatchlings until I'm fourteen. Hebridean Blacks aren't very good with fire 'til they're a bit older, and they can be pretty small coming out the eggs. Their bites are no worse than a dog's!" When she thought that Kyle might be looking for some sort of sign of disfigurement-by-dragon on her, she considered lifting up her hair and showing him her earlobe where there was a large tear in it. Unlike Alistair's reaction to his awful childhood experience with the scaled beasts, it only sparked Siobhan's interest in it. "It's the family business, is all. Bites and burns are just a... an 'occupation hazard.'"

Tilting her head inquisitively to the side, she asked, "What does your family do?" Alistair was never forthcoming with information about his friends, though he knew most of them had parents working in some way, shape or form with the Ministry. She wondered if Kyle's family were like that – "Boring", said a small, judgemental part of her – or if they were wandmakers or adventurers or professional Quiddich players, all ambitious enough in their own fields to get into Slytherin. Secretly she hoped for the latter.