CHAPTER 20: DRAGON-CARE FOR DUMMIES
Canada spent the next few weeks feeling a bit stressed out. Harry, Ron and Hermione seemed to have taken it upon themselves to protect Professor Quirrell and the Philosopher's Stone from Professor Snape. Every time he walked with them past that third-floor corridor he saw them press their ears to the door to make sure Fluffy was still there. Every time America was there when they did it he'd say, "Dudes, it's fine, it's a giant three-headed dog." They didn't seem reassured, and they still didn't officially tell them about Snape and Quirrell's conversation. That lack of trust almost hurt Canada just as much as the high probability of their deaths if they kept getting even deeper over their heads.
At least he had his studies to distract him. The end-of-year exams were ten weeks away, and Canada had started revising and reviewing and studying and worrying. If he didn't start early, he'd just procrastinate, he knew, until there was no time left. Hermione had gotten the same idea, though Canada hadn't gone so far as to colour-code all his notes. At least during their library study sessions he could pretend that everything was normal and Hermione was being sensible and not charging blindly into something most adult wizards wouldn't be able to handle. Harry, Ron and America joined in, too, trying to get through all the extra work their teachers had given them.
"I'll never remember this," Ron burst out one afternoon, throwing down his quill and looking longingly out of the library window. It was the first really fine day they'd had in months. The sky was a clear, forget-me-not blue and there was a feeling in the air of summer coming.
Canada, who was helping Harry find 'Dittany' in One Hundred Magical Herbs and Fungi, didn't look up until he heard America say, "Yo, Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?"
Hagrid shuffled into view, hiding something behind his back. He looked very out of place in his moleskin overcoat. "Jus' lookin'," he said, in a shifty voice that got their interest at once. "An' what're you lot up ter?" He looked suddenly suspicious. "Yer not still lookin' fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?"
"Oh, we found out who he is ages ago," said Ron impressively. Canada winced. "And we know what that dog's guarding, it's a Philosopher's St-"
"Shhhh!" Hagrid looked around quickly to see if anyone was listening. "Don't go shoutin' about it, what's the matter with yeh?" Canada silently concurred.
"Therare a few things we wanted to ask you, as a matter of fact," said Harry. "About what's guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy-"
"SHHHH!" said Hagrid again. "Listen – come an' see me later, I'm not promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin', mind, but don' go rabbitin' about it in here, students aren' s'pposed ter know. They'll think I've told yeh-"
"See you later, then," said Harry. Hagrid shuffled off, and suddenly Harry, Ron and Hermione gave Canada and America slightly worried looks. Oh, right, we're not supposed to know about the whole multiple-protections thing.
Canada pretended not to have heard that little tidbit and slightly changed the subject. "What was he hiding behind his back, eh?" he whispered.
"Do you think it had anything to do with the Stone?" Canada nearly facepalmed. Were these people completely obsessed with this thing?
"I'm going to see what section he was in," said Ron, who'd had enough of working. He came back a minute later with a pile of books in his arms and slammed them down on the table, startling a sleeping Kumadummy. "Dragons!" Ron whispered. "Hagrid was looking up stuff about dragons! Look at these: Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland; From Egg to Inferno, A Dragon Keeper's Guide."
"Hagrid's always wanted a dragon, he told me so the first time I ever met him," said Harry. Hagrid seemed to really like anything that could swallow someone whole, didn't he?
"Dude, is that even allowed?" asked America. "I think Iggy said something about it being outlawed back at the start of the 1700's. I guess it makes sense – dragons are kind of hard to hide. It's too bad. Having one as a pet sounds really awesome."
"It isn't," said Ron. "They're impossible to tame, and they're really dangerous. You should see the burns Charlie's got off wild ones in Romania."
"But there aren't wild dragons in Britain?" said Harry. America started giggling. Canada rolled his eyes at his brother. It wasn't Harry's fault that that sentence brought a very different mental image to them than it did to him.
"Of course there are," said Ron. "Common Welsh Green and Hebridean Blacks. The Ministry of Magic has a job hushing them up, I can tell you. Our lot have to keep putting spells on Muggles who've spotted them, to make them forget."
"So what on earth's Hagrid up to?" said Hermione.
*time skip*
Harry, Ron and Hermione let America and Canada come along to Hagrid's an hour later. Canada's guess at their thought process was that this meeting would likely focus on Hagrid's new fascination with dragons, not the Philosopher's Stone, so it was all right for the two of them to come. When they knocked on the door of the gameskeeper's hut, they were surprised to see that all the curtains were closed. Hagrid called, "Who is it?" before he let them in and then shut the door quickly beside them. It was stifling hot inside. Even though it was such a warm day, there was a blazing fire in the grate. Hagrid made them tea and offered them stoat sandwiches, which Canada was the only one too polite to refuse. "So – yeh wanted to ask me somethin'?"
"Yes," said Harry. Canada was busy trying to choke down a substance quite possibly worse than England's scones, so he decided to let Harry do the talking. He nearly choked when the next words out of the boy's mouth were, "We were wondering if you could tell us what's gone guarding the Philosopher's Stone apart from Fluffy." Still the stone? I thought we were focusing on the whole dragon thing!
America thumped Canada on the back, sending him out of his chair, while Hagrid frowned at Harry. "O' course I can't," he said. "Number one, I don' know meself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn' tell yeh if I could. That Stone's here fer a good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts – I s'ppose yeh've worked that out an' all? Beats me how yeh even know abou' Fluffy."
Canada climbed back into his chair, still coughing a bit and shooting America a dirty look when he raised his arm to thump him again. "Oh, come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you do know, you know everything that goes on round here," said Hermione in a warm, flattering voice. Hagrid's beard twitched and they could tell he was smiling. Hermione, if you lay it on any thicker, I'm not sure what metaphor I'm going for but something bad will happen. "We only wondered who had done the guarding, really," Hermione went on. "We wondered who Dumbledore trusted enough apart from you."
Hagrid's chest swelled at these last words. Harry and Ron beamed at Hermione. Canada turned his attention back to the stoat sandwiches. I am Canada, the second largest country in the world. I am not about to be bested by food. While he prepared himself for another bite, Hagrid said, "Well, I don' s'pose it could hurt ter tell yeh that… let's see… he borrowed Fluffy from me... then some o' the teachers did enchantments… Professor Sprout – Professor Flitwick – Professor McGonagall –" he ticked them off on his fingers while Canada raised the sandwich to his mouth, "Professor Quirrell – an' Dumbledore himself did somethin', o' course. Hang on, I've forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape."
Canada bit off a piece and started chewing as fast as possible. England, I am never going to complain about your cooking again. "Snape?"
"Yeah- yer not still on abou' that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped protect the Stone, he's not about ter steal it."
Canada felt he had chewed enough and swallowed. He grinned, feeling proud of himself. America nudged him and said, "Yo, mind if I have one?" Knowing America's fondness for using bad food as a test of bravery, Canada nodded.
"You're the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy, aren't you, Hagrid?" said Harry anxiously. America grabbed a stoat sandwich and stared at it, taking deep breaths. Canada took another bite of his own. It wasn't as bad. Maybe his taste buds were going numb. "And you wouldn't tell anyone, would you? Not even one of the teachers?"
"ALL RIGHT, HERE I GO, YOLO DUDES!" America bit down on the sandwich. Everyone ignored him, used to his outbursts.
"Not a soul knows except me an' Dumbledore," said Hagrid proudly.
America swallowed his first bite. "Dudes, I totally did it! Man, I think that was worse than Iggy's scones."
"You still have the rest of the sandwich to go," Canada whispered. America groaned, banging his head against the table.
"Well, that's something," Harry muttered to the others. "Hagrid, can we have a window open?" I'm boiling."
"Can't, Harry, sorry," said Hagrid. Canada, having just swallowed another mouthful of stoat, noticed him glance at the fire. Harry looked at it, too.
"Hagrid- what's that?" But they both already knew what it was. In the heart of the fire, underneath the kettle, was a huge, black egg. Oh, maple. First stoat sandwiches, now dragon eggs. Maybe coming along wasn't such a good idea.
America ignored all of them and focused on taking the next bite of the sandwich. "Ah," said Hagrid, fiddling nervously with his beard. "That's – er…"
"Dude, I think I'm getting used to it," America said with his mouth full.
"Where did you get it, Hagrid?" said Ron, crouching over the fire to get a closer look at the egg. "It must've cost you a fortune."
"Won it," said Hagrid. "Las' night. I was down in the village havin' a few drinks an' ot into a game o' cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest." Not much of a surprise. Canada turned back to the remainder of his sandwich. Only a few more bites to go. Come on, if America can do it, so can you.
"But what are you going to do with it when it's hatched?" said Hermione. All right, one bite down. Looks like it's just… two more after this…
"Well, I've bin doin' some readin'," said Hagrid, pulling a large book from under his pillow. Just… one more… bite… vision… fading… "Got this outta the library – Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit – it's a bit outta date, o' course, but it's all in here. Keep the egg in the fire, 'cause their mothers breathe on 'em, see, a' when it hatches, feed it on a bucket o' brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. An' see here – how ter recognise diff'rent eggs – what I got there's a Norwegian Ridgeback. They're rare, them."
"WHO JUST FINISHED BEFORE ALFRED, EH?" Everyone stared at Canada. They were used to that kind of volume from America, not him.
America groaned, staring at the remaining stoat sandwich. "Dude… I hate you forever."
"Hagrid, you live in a wooden house," Hermione said, not looking nearly as pleased as Hagrid. But Hagrid wasn't listening. He was humming merrily as he stoked the fire.
A/N: This chapter was pretty fun to write. I like funny background events, and in this case I'm not sure whether it was the stoat sandwiches or the important plot conversation that was the background event. Either way, I think it's funny. HUGS YAY \(^-^)/ NEXT CHAPTER: Harry's adventures with Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback. See you all next time!