The Gryffindor first years climbed the stairs from the dungeons on their way to the Great Hall. They had just finished Potions with the Slytherins, and Harry was feeling rather pleased with himself.

He, Ron and Hermione had been reading ahead for the class, arriving early to set up their cauldrons and ingredients, and working as quietly and carefully as possible. Ron made a real effort not to doodle or gossip. Hermione restrained her enthusiasm when Snape quizzed them on magical herbs and fungi. Harry concentrated on the brewing instructions, defended his cauldron from Malfoy's occasional attempts at sabotage, and consciously stopped himself from reacting to the professor's barbed comments.

Their efforts finally began to show positive results that morning: Snape let Hermione answer a question, and he ignored Harry and Ron entirely. It was definitely an improvement, and Harry was very glad to see Professor Quirrell's advice paying off. The attempt to make Snape less antagonistic was not their only project, however.

They'd caught Hagrid looking up books on dragon keeping in the library late last week. When they confronted him and discovered the dragon egg in his fireplace, the gamekeeper said he'd won the egg from a stranger in Hogsmead who was impressed that Hagrid knew how to handle a three-headed dog. When they found out that Hagrid didn't even know what the man looked like, Ron asked, "But what if he was after the Stone?"

Hagrid wasn't happy to hear that they knew who Flamel was and what Fluffy was guarding, but after some flattery from Hermione he told them that Professors Sprout, Flitwick, McGonagall, Quirrell, Snape, and Dumbledore had all contributed enchantments to protect the Philosopher's Stone. Hagrid thought that made the third floor corridor safer than Gringotts.

Harry and Ron later agreed that man in the pub must be after the Stone. Hermione wasn't convinced. She said the stranger might know how to get past Fluffy, but they couldn't possibly work out the teachers' enchantments.

One day at lunch, the boys were trying to get Hermione to tell them what she'd do if she had the Philosopher's Stone when Hedwig arrived. Harry gave her a bit of ham and she began preening herself as he opened the note, which was from Hagrid. He had only written two words: It's hatching.

Ron was all for skipping Herbology and going straight down to the hut. Hermione wouldn't hear of it.

"Hermione, how many times in our lives are we going to see a dragon hatchling?"

"We've got lessons, we'll get into trouble, and Hagrid's going to be in even more trouble when someone finds out what he's doing – "

"Shut up!" Harry whispered."

Malfoy was passing by the Gryffindor table and stopped dead to listen. How much had he heard? Enough, if the look on Malfoy's face was any indication.

...

Later that day Harry, Ron, Hermione and Hagrid sat around the wooden table in Hagrid's hut. Harrison stood behind Ron's chair. They all stared at the large black egg on the table. It wobbled back and forth. Thin fractures riddled its surface; a funny clicking noise was coming from inside.

Everyone but Hagrid jumped as the egg cracked, loudly, and fell open. The baby dragon flopped onto the tablecloth, all wings and tail. Harrison thought it still looked like a crumpled, black umbrella. The dragon had a skinny body, a long snout, wide nostrils, stubby horns and bulging, bright orange eyes.

It sneezed. A couple of sparks flew out of its snout toward Hermione, who twitched backward, looking anxious.

"Isn't he beautiful?" Hagrid murmered. He reached out to stroke the dragon's head. It snapped at his fingers, showing pointed fangs.

"Hagrid," said Hermione, "how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?"

Hagrid was about to answer when the color suddenly drained from his face – he leapt to his feet and ran through Harrison to the window.

"What's the matter?"

"Someone was lookin' through the gap in the curtains – it's a kid – he's runnin' back up ter the school." Harry bolted to the door and looked out. Even at a distance there was no mistaking the boy's white blond hair.

Malfoy had seen the dragon.

...

They visited Hagrid as often as possible over the next week, trying to convince him to set the dragon free. It had already tripled in size and begun to vent thick smoke from its nostrils. The floor of Hagrid's hut was strewn with empty brandy bottles and chicken feathers from its breakfast.

"I've decided to call him Norbert," said Hagrid, looking at the dragon with misty eyes. "He really knows me now, watch. Norbert! Norbert! Where's Mummy?"

"He's lost his marbles," Ron muttered in Harry's ear.

"Hagrid," said Harry loudly, "give it a fortnight and Norbert's going to be as long as your house. Malfoy could go to Dumbledore at any moment."

Hagrid bit his lip.

"I – I know I can't keep him forever, but I can't jus' dump him, I can't."

Harry suddenly knew what to do with the dragon. He turned to Ron.

"Charlie," he said.

"You're losing it, too," said Ron. "I'm Ron, remember?"

"No – Charlie – your brother, Charlie. In Romania. Studying dragons. We could send Norbert to him. Charlie can take care of him and then put him back in the wild!"

Brilliant!" said Ron. "How about it, Hagrid?" And in the end, Hgarid agreed that they could send an owl to Charlie to ask him.

...

On Wednesday, Charlie's owl returned with the plan to transport Norbert. On Saturday, at a quarter past ten, Harrison stood in the entrance hall with Harry as they waited for Peeves to stop playing tennis against the wall. Contrary to Harrison's memories, his younger self was alone under the invisibility cloak.

The past week had gone as expected, for the most part. Charlie had instructed them to meet his friends at midnight, with the dragon, at the top of the Astronomy tower. Ron was in the hospital wing having a dragon bite treated by Madam Pomfrey. Draco Malfoy went to taunt him on the pretext of borrowing a book, and found Charlie's letter hidden inside.

Harrison realized that the Norbert adventure wasn't going according to plan when Hermione turned up in the hospital wing as well, limping heavily, with tears pricking the corners of her eyes. Norbert's tail had smashed into her ankle, leaving deep bruises and making it impossible for her to help Harry carry the dragon all the way up the tower.

Harry, looking grim, decided it was too late to change the plan. He told Ron and Hermione he'd get it done, somehow. They protested, of course, but Harry insisted that he'd always been able to get himself out of difficult situations.

Harrison was surprised at Harry's confidence. What was the boy planning?

...

Harry pulled the invisibility cloak tighter around his shoulders as he walked across the grounds toward Hagrid's hut. He was thinking about the Dursleys.

It was true, he had always been able to get himself out of difficult situations. The first time his uncle came after him with raised fists and sherry on his breath, Harry knew how to dodge under the first swing, run outside, and hide in the hydrangeas until the man stopped shouting and had gone upstairs to sleep it off. He was five.

There were exceptions to the rule, of course. The first (and last) time Dudley asked his mother how planes fly, Harry knew, so he told them about aerodynamically shaped wings and differences in air pressure. He was four. After a moment of stunned silence, his aunt reacted by shutting him in the cupboard under the stairs for two days with no breakfast. He hadn't been able to get out of that one.

Harry learned from an early age that he was different, a freak. He had always known things he shouldn't, and living with his aunt and uncle taught him never to speak of such things because they weren't normal.

...

The Dursleys did not teach Harry Potter to speak, or to read, or to dress himself, or brush his teeth or use the loo or any of a hundred everyday skills which parents teach their children. They didn't want to do these things for him, and about six months after he was left on their doorstop Petunia realized they didn't have to. Her sister's unnatural toddler could and did brush his teeth, a little clumsily, without help. When she gave him Dudley's old clothes, he knew how to put them on. She even caught the boy potty training himself and teaching himself how to walk.

It deeply unsettled Vernon and Petunia. They interacted with Harry as little as possible, yet that two year old rapidly developed proper English syntax and pronunciation while their two year old struggled to speak, even though they showered Dudley with attention and educational toys.

...

Before Hogwarts, Harry's flashes of intuition had always involved knowing how things worked, like walking or writing properly. Or how to avoid drunken uncles. They had not involved what to do. They were never original ideas, nor did they ever come with sudden, strong emotions.

That was why Harry had been unnerved once he got a chance to think about what happened on Hallowe'en. As he and Ron had followed Percy up the stairs outside the Great Hall, he'd felt an inexplicable rush of urgency as something inside told him The Slytherins are in the dungeons. In danger. Help them. Nothing told him how he could help, just that he should, and quickly. That was new, and he hadn't been sure if he liked the change, but the flash of idea had nevertheless brought him five points to Gryffindor and a valuable new friend.

Since then he'd realized that his intuition was very like the surety of his spellcasting; he knew the correct swish-and-flick of a Levitating Charm at age eleven just as he knew the dynamics of flight at age four.

Harry hoped, as he knocked on Hagrid's door, that it would help him now. He was right.

...

Harrison was confused. Harry had just dragged Norbert's crate about halfway to the castle steps, then pushed back the hood of his cloak and sat down in the grass. The boy's head was floating in mid-air, his face flushed with exertion, sweat making his fringe stick to his forehead. Harry frowned at the heavy crate while he caught his breath.

Suddenly, the boy's face cleared. He smiled and stood up, moving around to the far side of the wooden box.

"Wingardium leviosa," muttered Harry. The crate lifted scant inches off the ground. He took a tentative step forward, keeping his wand trained on his target, and Norbert moved with him. Harry grinned and kept going. The dragon made several restless noises before settling down.

Brilliant! Harrison thought. This boy was definitely cleverer than he had been. And, he reluctantly admitted, it looks like Quirrellmort's lessons are paying off. Again.

It was slow going. Harry lost his concentration and dropped Norbert's crate only once, at the foot of the stairs up to the castle. The noise hadn't been that loud but he froze anyway, listening, until he was sure nobody was coming to investigate. After that he put the box down gently several times in deserted corridors to give himself a rest. He couldn't believe his luck when he reached the Astronomy tower without being seen. He was sweating again after his extended use of magic, so he took off the cloak and let it fall into the shadows at the base of the parapet. Norbert snorted smoke and a few sparks at Harry's feet, and he jumped back.

He didn't realize that he'd left the door to the stairs open.

...

Harrison tried to warn his younger self, but by the time he thought to make some part of himself visible the damage was already done.

"You're in for it now, Potter! You – "

"Expelliarmus!" BANG.

"Argh – "

CRUNCH.

Malfoy slammed backward into the stone side of the tower and slumped to the cold floor, unconscious. Harry stood with his wand arm out, breathing fast, his pulse racing as he stared at Malfoy. Harrison stared at both of them. It seemed that nobody, least of all Harry, had expected his reaction to be that fast or that forceful. For a moment the only sound was Harry's frightened breathing and the shuffling movements of an agitated baby dragon.

Then, the noise of rapid footfalls growing louder and louder as someone climbed quickly up the tower stairs. There was an excited yowl.

"Not Peeves this time, my sweet. Bloody poltergeist can't Disarm – "

Flich's voice stung Harry into action. He lept forward, pushed the door shut, and hesitated for a frantic second before screwing his eyes shut and casting a Sticking charm on the door. When he opened his eyes, the edges had spread out in patches to glue itself unevenly to the doorframe.

Harry ran to lean out over the edge of the tower, desperately searching the cloudy sky. Flich and Mrs Norris reached the top of the stairs, Filch banging on the door and shouting threats when it wouldn't open. The racket upset Norbert and the dragon growled, loudly, and snorted more smoke. Filch stopped banging on the door.

"Ooooh, now that's a dangerous sounding beastie, isn't it, my sweet? Just wait till Professor Snape hears about this…" Filch's excited voice faded as he and his cat climbed back down the tower.