Dean looked amused. Picturing Drew as a dragon-tamer was a little far off. Other than Weasley's brother, he'd never seen one. He pictured them looking a bit like Professor Moody though - battlescarred, missing limbs. Probably loads of burn scars. That sort of thing. Bouncy, currently daisy-headed Drew didn't really fit the description in his mind. "Think watching the dragons fourth year was close enough to a dragon for me." Though he'd spent about two weeks afterwards obsessively trying to remember every detail to draw them. They were just so. . . fantastic. Dragons were intrinsic parts of the sort of fantasy world that muggles didn't think existed. Seeing them up close - well, not that close, but close enough - had left Dean more than a bit awed.
"Well. Suppose some girls - and blokes - spend loads of time trying to get their hair yellow. So some people might pay you for it?" he suggested. "Think maybe you're better off with the Healing, or the reporting though. Not sure on the dragons. I'd hate to read about them taking a bite out of you." Since that'd be a big bite. Drew wasn't big enough to lose inches to dragon teeth.