Posted: 17 March, 2010
Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this story that is recognisable from the Harry Potter books, movies, etc. Everything else however (eg. story plot, original characters, etc.) stems from my own imagination and belongs to me. No copyright infringement is intended and I am not profiting financially from this story in any way.
Chapter 10 - Problems Solved
Wednesday, 12 February, 1992
Stepping out of another class with Quirrell, recipient of yet another headache emanating from his scar, Harry wondered to himself how he could have been so stupid last time, and not have put things together. Sure, Snape was an understandable suspect, all antagonism and darkness, but Quirrell had scar-headache inducing abilities.
He sighed, supposing he wasn't entirely blamed. After all, back at this early stage he hadn't been aware that his scar was an active link to Voldemort. And being Muggle raised, he had not the basic understanding of magic to make the leap to the hypothesis. He was a bit surprised in reflection however, that Hermione – genius that she was – had never suggested the possibility.
Raising a hand, he rubbed it across his forehead to ease the slowly fading pain.
"Harry? You alright?" Neville asked, sounding concerned, and he gave his friend a reassuring smile.
"M'fine, just a headache. It's getting better now though."
"Another? You seem to get them a lot Harry, especially in D.A.D.A. class. Maybe it's because of the smell from all the garlic Quirrell keeps around."
Harry quirked a lip, remembering having come to a similar conclusion himself last time.
"Or maybe I'm allergic to the teacher. Think McGonagall will let me drop out?"
"No way," Neville laughed, not realising Harry's comments were at least partly serious. "Look, why don't you go up to the dorms and lie down? I'll sneak some lunch up to you from the tables."
Harry gave a grateful smile and nodded, parting ways for the Common Room.
..ooOOoo..
Friday, 21 February, 1992
"Professor McGonagall? You sent a message asking to meet with us?" Harry asked.
It was Friday afternoon after classes and he and Neville were stood before the desk in their Head of House's office.
"Take a seat gentlemen," she directed, then offered them an opened tartan tin saying, "Have a Ginger Newt." Both complied. "Now, as to why I called this meeting, Headmaster Dumbledore has asked that I update you on the progress of the investigation."
"Investigation?" the green eyed boy asked, but Neville, not as dismissive of near death situations as his friend, quickly realised what she meant.
"Into the rogue Bludger, Professor McGonagall?" he asked nervously.
She nodded. "Exactly. What with the next Gryffindor Quidditch match tomorrow, he felt you ought to know about the new measures in place, so that you'll feel safe to attend should you wish."
"What measures Professor?" Harry asked.
"Firstly, the Headmaster himself with be present at the matches until the cause is discovered-"
"Wait, wasn't he there last time?"
As soon as he said it, Harry recalled that in the first timeline, Dumbledore hadn't been there for his debut match. That was why he was so relieved to see him in attendance of the second one, knowing he'd keep an eye on Snape, who they believed to be the culprit at the time. He wondered at the change before McGonagall, after glaring at him a little for interrupting, explained.
"No, he was not. But he happened to be taking a stroll on the lawn when the commotion occurred. I sent him a message as to what was happening as the teachers and I made our way to your stand, and Headmaster Dumbledore hurried to join us along the way," she said and both boys nodded in understanding.
"Y-you said there were other measures, Professor?" Neville asked.
"Yes Mr Longbottom, I did. The warding spells keeping balls within the field will be inspected by the headmaster before every game. And the balls themselves will be checked over by Madam Hooch and at least two heads of house. No exceptions. Also, a new ward has been added between the stands and pitch that prevents underage witches and wizards from casting spells across the barrier without rather obvious consequences, which would pinpoint their identity."
"You think it's a student?" Neville blurted loudly in surprise. "Sorry Professor. It's just I thought only advanced wizards could interfere with the charms on Quidditch balls. Or that's what the gossip says."
"I think," Harry said, "that it's more likely a 'just in case' measure. Probably the main point of that ward is that if something happens, and it doesn't point out who cast the spell, then they'll know it had to be someone of age. It would narrow things down a lot, and probably discourage the culprit."
McGonagall raised an eyebrow but nodded.
"Indeed, Mr Potter," she said. "Indeed."
..ooOOoo..
Friday, 24 April, 1992
Harry and Neville were just packing up after another successful potions tutoring session. Neville was getting to be rather decent at the subject, though it would never be his best.
As they left the room Harry frowned. Something had been bothering him recently, tickling at the back of his mind. There was something he was forgetting. Walking down the corridor, he happened to glance out the window, and at the sight of Hagrid's hut, everything clicked into place.
Norbert! How could he have forgotten about Hagrid's ill-advised venture into the world of dragon breeding?
"You know," he said, casually as he could, "we haven't been to see Hagrid in ages it seems."
"You're right," Neville said, frowning. "We've not been very good friends, have we? And after he saved us from that mad Bludger and all."
"Why don't we head down now?"
Neville was quick to agree and they exited the castle, heading across the grounds. As they went Harry braced himself. He wasn't sure what stage Norbert would be in. He could be an egg still, or he could be an ill-behaved, poison-fanged mini-menace.
They knocked onto the door.
"I'm busy! Come back later!" Hagrid's voice called from within.
"Hagrid, it's me and Neville!" Harry called back.
There was a long pause, but finally the door opened ajar and Hagrid's face appeared, looking furtive.
"Well get in here, quick. You won't believe what I've got ter show yeh."
Both were hustled into the overly warm interior of the hut with such force that Harry fell over. By the time he scrambled back to his feet, Hagrid had taken a seat at the table, staring down at it with expectant awe. Neville on the other hand was looking in the same direction, but his expression was somewhere between horror and disbelief.
"What's that Hagrid?" Harry asked, indicating the huge black egg.
"I-is that w-what I think it is Hagrid?" Neville asked, frightened.
Hagrid just grinned proudly.
"It's a dragon egg. Norwegian Ridgeback in fact. They're rare them. And it's good timin' you lot came ter visit me now," Hagrid said throwing them an excited look. "It's hatchin'."
Neville just gulped, backing away. Harry meanwhile stared, wondering what to do. One thing he couldn't deny was that seeing a dragon hatching was an experience of a lifetime – doubly so for the dragon fanatic Hagrid – and he didn't want to ruin the experience for his big friend. And so he said nothing for now, dragging Neville forward to watch.
They all three crowded around the table. The egg was shaking in place, like something was moving inside, and made a strange clicking noise. There were fracture lines across the shell where its inhabitant had started trying to get out. As they watched breathlessly, there was a scraping noise and finally, the shell split apart and a baby dragon flopped out onto the table.
"Wow," Neville whispered.
"He's beautiful," Hagrid murmured reverently.
At the breaking of the silence, the creature looked around and sneezed, sending out sparks that almost set Hagrid's beard alight before he patted them out. Harry knew it was time to intervene.
"Hagrid, Norwegian Ridgebacks, they breathe fire right?" he asked, but Hagrid was busy cooing at the dragon, so he repeated it louder.
"Oh sure," the half-giant nodded. "But little Norbert here's just a baby. Won't make more'n sparks till he's two months."
"Norbert?" Neville gaped.
"Still," Harry continued, "it's enough to make things catch fire. And you live in a wooden house. And I've heard they grown like weeds. And aren't Norwegian Ridgebacks venomous?"
Hagrid was paying him no attention, but doing so a bit too intently for it to be anything but intentional.
"Hagrid," Neville said softly, "Harry's right."
Finally the man looked up.
"But I just got him. I've wanted a dragon fer ages. I'm not gettin' rid o' him; he's too young ter survive on his own."
"And what if he somehow gets away from you Hagrid," Harry said gently, "and injures a student?"
"Norbert would never! He's just a sweet baby."
"A sweet baby with poisonous fangs," Neville added sotto voce.
Harry frowned. He didn't want to hurt his friend but it seemed he'd have to play dirty. He had no ties to Ron in this timeline, so he couldn't very well contact Charlie and sneak Norbert out. Instead Hagrid would have to come clean with Dumbledore and hope the old wizard could help.
"You said it Hagrid, he's a baby, and babies make mistakes," Harry said, then firmed his tone. "I think you're being very selfish."
The other two looked at him in shock, Hagrid also looking confused.
"What d'yeh mean, selfish?"
"I know you've always wanted a pet dragon, but that you'd be willing to risk the wellbeing of students, of children, to get what you want …"
There was no mistaking the hurt in Hagrid's face and it made Harry wince a bit. And then Neville, compassionate boy that he was, made to intervene.
"Harry," the blonde boy said, "I'm sure Hagrid doesn't mean for anyone to get hurt. I-I mean he's our friend and a good person. B-but Hagrid, Harry has a point. The dragon – I mean Norbert – could be dangerous."
"I'm sorry Hagrid," Harry apologised. "I don't mean to accuse you. I'm just worried."
Hagrid stared for a moment between his visitors and the dragon. The creature went to take a bite out of his finger. He dodged it easily, but all the same the action helped support Harry's words and he slumped down defeated.
"Yer right," he said sadly, staring at Norbert with teary eyes and sniffling a bit. "I have ter get rid o' him. But I don't want ter abandon him ter die."
"So we go to Dumbledore," Harry said but Hagrid hesitated.
"He'll be disappointed in me," the half-giant muttered before sitting up straighter. "But, it's the right thing ter do."
Harry and Neville agreed to go find Dumbledore and bring him down. Hagrid wanted some time alone with his 'baby' before he had to give it away. Neville didn't question Harry knowing where the headmaster's office was. He had long ago come to the conclusion that Harry must do a lot of exploring of the castle when they were apart.
Dumbledore agreed to follow them down to Hagrid's where he was brought in on the situation. He was rather surprised to find his gamekeeper had hatched a dragon, and yes, somewhat disappointed too. He sent the two boys on their way, promising that everything would be taken care of, and the dragon found a good home.
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