Chapter 29: Smugglers
Either Severus managed to intimidate him, or for some other reason, but Quirrell stopped attempting to corner Harry. February came and went, making way for a long, cold and wet March. They had not been able to make any progress with the Philosopher's Stone, as they were now wary of asking any questions openly, and there had not been no other opportunity to find anything out by chance.
Whenever they could spare a minute, Harry and Draco went to de Combrai's chambers for training. They practiced their battle magic – the few spells their father had shown them during the winter holiday. Strictly speaking, the spells were not exactly battle ones: Lucius refused to teach the boys anything that could do real damage.
"At the moment," he explained, "you will probably do more harm to yourself than to your opponent. And that won't do." Severus was even more sceptic. "There is no 'probably' about it. I would say 'for sure'." In short, the boys were taught some simple spells that could help them buy some time and escape in case of an emergency: the Body-Bind Curse, the Tickling Charm and some minor jinxes of similar nature. Unfortunately, the boys were still struggling with the Disarming Charm. Both, however, managed to master the Bluebell Flame that Hermione loved so much: it turned out to be very easy to conjure. "If the boys burn the school down, Luc, that will be your problem," Severus sighed tiredly. "I would say that will be Dumbledore's problem", countered Lucius, and they both laughed.
Weeks passed. The weather remained awful, so Draco did not even complain much when Hermione drew up a study schedule to get ready for the exams. Not only she followed it fastidiously herself, but kept nagging others to do the same.
"Granger, you are crazy," Draco said, but since there was nothing better to do anyway, and the amount of homework only increased, all of them took up a habit of spending all their free time in the library.
In the beginning of April, the south wind started blowing, and spring finally came to Hogwarts. Dark clouds were whisked away as if they never existed, the ground dried up under the bright sun, and the first grass appeared everywhere. Crocuses started blooming.
It was a little less than a week before the Easter holidays. Draco and Harry could hardly wait to get home where spring was already in full force.
Dittany, also known as hop marjoram, dictamnus or diktamo (in Greek), has exceptional healing qualities. Various Greek sources state its unmatched…
"I'll never remember this." Harry made a face, pushing away One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, and stared out of the window longingly. The sky was bright blue like a whole meadow of forget-me-nots. Warm breeze came into the library through the open windows, bringing thoughts of the fast approaching summer.
"Yes, you will," Draco answered calmly. "Otherwise Sev will have your head."
"Thanks for the reminder. Tell me, though, what will our family do with three mad Potions masters? Two are quite enough."
Instead of answering Draco hit him on the head with John Gerard's Herball, or Generall Historie of Plantes.
"Be quiet, you two," Hermione hissed. "Do you want Madam Pince to throw us out?"
"It would be nice!" Harry brightened a bit.
It was more tomfoolery than real complaints, but that day the mere idea of studying was especially revolting.
"What is he doing here?" Draco whispered suddenly.
Harry followed his gaze and almost jumped up on his chair: Hagrid really did look out of place in the library. The half-giant in his moleskin overcoat, his weather-beaten trousers stained with some unrecognizable sap, and his old shirt with leather patches on the elbows obviously felt uncomfortable among heavy high bookcases and thousands of books. More than that, his whole appearance cried out that he was hiding something important.
"Hagrid?" Harry called out.
Startled, the Keeper of the Keys walked into the nearest bookcase, and several tomes from its shelves fell to the floor. Harry, Neville and Hermione started picking them up. Almost all of the books were about dragons: Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland; From Egg to Inferno, A Dragon Keeper's Guide and so on.
"Give me that one," Hagrid mumbled with embarrassment and took Dragon Breeding for Profit and Pleasure from Hermione. "Jus' lookin' fer somethin' to read, that's all…"
But the way he looked away and mumbled could make even a Hufflepuff suspect that something was up.
Harry sneaked a glance at his brother. It seemed Draco had had the same idea and now was wondering, "Does this mean that there is a dragon at the school along with the Philosopher's Stone? That is simply too much!"
"Hagrid," Hermione said quietly, but firmly, "private dragon breeding in Great Britain is prohibited by the Warlocks' Convention of 1709."
"SHHHH!" he whispered in alarm. "Not here! And not now! Come an' see me later today for tea, will yeh?"
And he left with the Dragon Breeding under his arm, knocking a couple of chairs on the way out.
X X X
Draco struggled with a bad feeling all the way to Hagrid's hut. Dragons at Hogwarts?! The school could have done without them, thank you very much.
All the curtains in the miserable hut were closed tightly — in the broad daylight! In his mind, Draco rolled his eyes: the half-giant's idea of secrecy and security was only one step away from a child's attempts to hide from the Bogeyman under the blanket. Granger knocked on the door, Hagrid asked "Who's it?" from the inside, let them in and shut the door quickly behind them.
It was not only dark, but also stifling hot inside. The fire was burning as high as if it were January in Lapland, not April in Scotland. While the Keeper of the Keys made tea and some sandwiches with strange-smelling meat that no one dared to try, Draco surveyed the room trying to see what was hidden there.
"Hagrid, what is this?" Longbottom asked suddenly, pointing at the hearth.
Draco turned around, and his heart skipped a beat. The question was rhetorical: a huge black egg was laid in the very heart of the fire.
"Ah… well…" Hagrid faltered.
"This is very clever of Professor Dumbledore," Harry said suddenly with approval. Everyone looked at him as if he suddenly sprouted two heads.
"What're yeh talkin' about, Harry?" Hagrid asked.
"Well, this is a security measure, isn't it?" Harry answered with an innocent expression on his face. "Just in case Fluffy doesn't do his job."
The Keeper of the Keys blushed.
"Erm… Ter be honest, the Headmaster doesn' know abou' this," he mumbled, looking at his feet. "I haven' even showed it to him yet. In case he disapproves, you see? But yeh've a good idea, Harry, maybe I'll tell Dumbledore exactly that. Jus' think how this baby can help us when he grows up!"
"That's not going to happen anytime soon," Harry sighed. "Let's hope Fluffy will be enough."
"There are all sorts of enchantments there besides Fluffy," Hagrid laughed, waving away their concerns. "All the Heads helped Professor Dumbledore with this: Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout, Professor McGonagall, an' Professor Snape, of course… Hang on, I've forgotten someone… Oh yeah, Professor Quirrell did too! It was his job to…" He suddenly stopped in mid-sentence and frowned. "Why am I tellin' yeh this? That's top secret!"
"Don't worry, Hagrid," Longbottom cut in quickly. "We won't breathe a word about it to anyone."
Draco looked sideways at his brother, and Granger frowned. It was clear that they were all thinking the same thing: if Quirrell had been in on setting up the Philosopher's Stone protections, he would have easily found out the ways to bypass defences created by the other professors. Which made Fluffy the only Stone's real guard. Well, Severus probably also wouldn't have trusted Quirrell even then, but that was not enough.
It turned out, however, that Granger worried about something else entirely.
"Hagrid," she said sternly, "If Professor Dumbledore doesn't know about the egg, where did you get it?"
"Won it," Hagrid confessed, giving a look of pride and adoration to the black egg in the fireplace. "A couple o' days ago, in Hogsmeade. I was down in the village, havin' a few drinks in the Hog's Head, an' there was this guy, he offered a game o' cards, and I won. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it. Didn' know what ter do with it, I s'pose."
And you obviously do! Draco thought darkly.
Granger could not give it a rest.
"But what are you going to do with it when it's hatched?"
"Well, I've bin doin' some readin'," Hagrid waved the book he had taken from the library. "It's a bit outta date, o' course, but it's all in here. How ter recognize the species, too. What I've got here is a Norwegian Ridgeback, they're rare, them! Yeh should keep the egg in the fire, 'cause their mothers breathe on I em, so I'm doing my best." He added a couple of logs to the hearth and adjusted them a bit with a poker. "An' when it hatches, yeh need to feed it on a bucket o' brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. An' in the twinkling' of an eye it will start to breath fire!"
"Hagrid," Hermione groaned, "you live in a wooden house! This is madness!"
For once Draco agreed with her completely.
X X X
As soon as they left Hagrid's hut, their group without much words went straight to de Combrai's chambers in the dungeons. Seeing them, Prince Geraint even abandoned his cauldron with some bubbling turquois concoction.
"It has been a while," he said. "Are you getting ready for the trials?"
"What trials?" Neville asked.
Hermione caught up quickly, though.
"Yes, it's only seven weeks until the year examinations start. I have already made us a schedule, and we are constantly revising. I've also created a special colour-coding system…"
Draco made a face, and Harry decided to interfere.
"Hermione," he tugged at her sleeve, "I think His Royal Highness uses something of that sort himself. Anyway, isn't that going to boil over?" he nodded at the cauldron that had developed a heap of bright blue suds on top. "We won't disturb you further and just go in."
Geraint smirked, letting them in, and returned to his experiment.
They settled around the table and exchanged worried looks.
"Merlin's beard, it's outrageous!" Draco burst out. "Bringing a dragon to Hogwarts! Breeding it illegally in that hovel! That half-giant is a danger to society and needs to be dealt with!"
"What are you suggesting?" Hermione asked. "Filling a complaint to the Ministry? To the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures?"
"Why not?"
"Do you realize the size of trouble it would lead to?"
"For whom? For Hagrid?" Draco snorted. "He deserves it. He has to be stopped before one of his pets eat us all."
Harry winced. Judging by the Gryffindors' faces they also did not share his brother's indignation, even the rule-obeying Hermione.
"Even if I didn't pity Hagrid — and I do," he noted sensibly, "first of all, Dumbledore would be to blame. As the headmaster, he is responsible for everything that goes on in this school."
"So what?"
"We do not need any troubles with the headmaster right now," Harry stressed out, looking straight into Draco's eyes.
Hermione and Neville could not understand the hint, of course, but luckily Draco remembered their father's words on the topic just in time.
"All right, I get it," he replied reluctantly.
"Maybe," Neville started somewhat shyly, "we could tell Professor Dumbledore about it? He'll figure out what to do!"
They looked at each other.
"We promised not to tell anybody," Hermione said tentatively. "It's not right to go back on one's word."
Draco clutched his head.
"This is all your fault, Longbottom!" he snapped. "It was your brilliant idea to promise such nonsense!"
Neville blushed.
"Stop fighting, please," Harry cut them off. "Nothing happened yet. The dragon hasn't hatched so there is no reason to panic. It may not even hatch at all."
"You wish," Draco grumbled.
"And anyway," Harry added, "Isn't it cool to see a new-born dragon?"
"No!" Draco shouted, but, unfortunately for him, others did not share his point of view: Hermione's and Neville's eyes were bright with curiosity.
"This is a unique chance... It's a miracle!" Hermione whispered in awe.
"It's a huge fire-breathing monster! Have you gone crazy? It could burn the whole castle down!"
"It will be tiny after hatching," Neville said. "I don't think it will be able to do much harm."
"It only means that it'll burn only us, you idiots!" Draco couldn't be placated.
"That's enough!" Harry interfered again. "Enough. Let's try this. Until it hatches, we don't do anything. We'll look at it first. Hagrid wouldn't refuse us, he'd be wary, because we already know too much. While it's hatching, let's try to think what to do next. It's obvious that the dragon needs to be removed from here. The question is where to send it."
"We could just free it," Neville proposed.
"It won't survive on its own, it will be too young," Harry countered. "And we can't wait until it grows up enough — then it will be able to burn half of the school down for sure. Hagrid's hut doesn't stand a chance."
"What about some sort of magical animal reserve? Are there any magical reserves in Britain?"
Everyone looked at each other again. No one knew anything about it.
"We need to research it," announced Hermione. "Boys, can you do it in the holiday without attracting attention to yourselves?"
"We'll try," Harry nodded.
"You are crazy," Draco grumbled. "Even if an animal reserve exists, how will we deliver this beast there?"
"We'll figure something out," Harry shrugged. "As a last resort, we could tell dad."
Draco raised an eyebrow.
"Dad has all sorts of connections," Harry explained. "He could help us if something goes wrong. This is better than reporting Hagrid to the headmaster. It's just not right."
"It's the only sensible way," Draco grumbled, but realized that he was alone and gave up.
X X X
The spring holidays came and went without any dragon hatching. Draco calmed down a little, deciding that the egg must have been damaged, and so there was nothing to worry about. Harry's fascination with all sorts of deadly creatures disgusted him. Trolls, three-headed dogs, dragons... What's next? Lethifolds? Vampires? Werewolves?!
During the Easter holidays they went through a huge pile of books on magical creatures and their habitats. Due to the approaching exams such an interest did not raise their parents' suspicions. They had not been able to find anything of note, though. In Britain, wild dragons lived in Wales and in the Hebrides, but there were no magical creature reserves — or their location was classified by the Ministry even for wizards, which was not so improbable. Everything dragon-originated, from blood to egg shells, was a valuable ingredient, often more expensive than gold. And crazy bounty hunters were always aplenty.
Whatever was the truth, they returned to school empty-handed. The first few days of the spring term were uneventful, and Draco was almost sure that Hagrid had failed. But on Friday during breakfast Hedwig brought Harry a short note, It's hatching.
Draco almost choked on his scrambled eggs with bacon.
"I don't know about you," he hissed, "but I'm going to Herbology class."
"Me too," Harry shrugged. "We'll visit him after classes."
Draco could only sigh.
In the greenhouse Harry chose the workplace near Granger and Longbottom. Madam Sprout looked slightly surprised, but did not object even when they started whispering during the class. Maybe she thought they were discussing the instructions for yarrow repotting, or she decided not to ruin the friendship between students of feuding Houses — who knows how these Hufflepuffs think?
"Hagrid says it's time," Harry said quietly.
"No way!" Hermione gasped.
"Now what?" Longbottom whispered. "Are you going to come?"
"After the class."
"What if it has already hatched?"
Something clanked right behind their backs, and Draco turned quickly around. Ron Weasley was standing over large garden scissors he had dropped on the ground. He had a strange expression on his face.
Finally the bell rang signalling the end of the class. The children immediately ran to Hagrid's hut (Draco grumbled and protested the whole way). The Keeper of the Keys opened the door, looking flushed from excitement.
"It's nearly out!" he announced in agitated whisper, closing the door. "Look!"
It was s sight to behold. The huge egg, now covered in cracks, was wiggling and shaking on the table while rustling sounds were coming from the inside. Everyone sat around the table (Draco moved his chair as far away as possible, but made sure he saw everything) and waited.
Suddenly the egg cracked loudly and split open. A small black dragon tumbled out. It was difficult to call it pretty; it looked more like a crumpled umbrella: its large wings were too big for its jet black skinny body. The dragon sneezed, and bright sparks flew out from its snout. One of them almost set on fire the fur rugs on the huge bed.
"Aw, aren't yeh beautiful!" Hagrid melted and held out his hand. The dragon almost bit it off.
Draco paled and turned away — just in time to notice someone's curious eye in the gap between the curtains. He jumped up and ran to the window.
"What is it?" Granger asked, alarmed.
Draco turned back to the others.
"Ron Weasley," he replied darkly.
They looked at each other.
"This is awkward," Hagrid said, quite upset.
"Now you simply have to tell Professor Dumbledore everything," Granger pleaded. "He'll find a way out of this mess."
"Yeah, but..."
"I don't think that Weasley will babble," Longbottom said quietly.
"Why would he keep his mouth shut?" Draco grumbled.
"It's just not like him to squeal," Longbottom frowned. "He's no tattletale."
Draco sighed. The Keeper of the Keys, of course, was glad to hear any excuse to keep this awful fire-breathing monster here for another day.
"Hagrid, how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow?" Hermione asked.
It seemed, however, that Hagrid did not even hear her question. He was too busy cooing over his disgusting new-born pet.
X X X
Slytherin's last game of the year — with Hufflepuff — was the next day. This significant event drove everything else out of Draco's mind, including the Philosopher's Stone, never mind dragons. Up to the last minute, Flint kept giving Harry advice in his usual quaint manner, generously mixing hints with threats. This time Harry had a truly formidable opponent: Cedric Diggory had been on the team for two years already and was quite good.
Severus was to referee again. The tension among the teachers was palpable, even if the students did not notice it. This time, however, everything went smoothly again. Harry even managed to hold off catching the snitch for another thirty minutes, giving his teammates a chance to win more points. Considering the minor points gap Slytherin had after the previous games, now they not just had to win — they had to win by a large margin.
Diggory was a serious opponent indeed. He was fast, strong and dexterous, and did not hesitate to take a risk. A rare quality for a Hufflepuff, Draco thought, biting his lip in agitation and watching Harry take another sharp turn in an attempt not to fall behind the other seeker.
"Hmm, Diggory is the real thing, unlike that McLaggen idiot," Millie mumbled.
"Shut up," Draco hissed.
Offended, Millie pursed her lips, and he relented, "Sorry."
Pansy tut-tutted in annoyance and sing-sang dismissively, "Boys..."
The quarrel was interrupted in the beginning, though, by the hubbub and noise from the stands: while they were arguing, Harry managed to catch the Snitch.
"This is all your fault," Draco grumbled, upset that he had not seen the finale of the game. The all-out joy at the Slytherin stand got to him too. They won! Well, there was still a game between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, but thanks to Flint now they had two hundred fifty points on Gryffindor — the Buffoondors would not be able to take the Cup from Slytherin, even if they did somehow manage to do better than the Ravens.
Getting to the Slytherin changing rooms, Draco found Severus at the door. Having heard Harry's story about his last encounter with the D.A.D.A. teacher, he was not at all surprised.
"Have you seen Quirrell?" he asked his godfather quietly.
"Not here," Severus snapped. "And not now."
Draco nodded, and they waited for Harry in silence.
X X X
As it turned out, Neville was right. It looked like Ron Weasley had not said anything to anyone. There were no dragon rumours at school, and the headmaster did not invite anyone for a chat. They had been visiting Hagrid's hut almost every day for a week to see the little dragon grow — which it did rather quickly. Next Saturday it was three times its original size, and soon even Harry had started worrying.
"A few weeks more, and it won't fit into the hut," Hermione persuaded Hagrid. "It has to be set free."
"It's still just a baby," Hagrid wailed. "It will die on its own. And it's got used ter me, too. I've even named it Norbert. Look." He turned to the dragon that was already a whole yard long. "'ere, Norbert, come to yer Mummy!"
Norbert deftly twisted and snapped its terrible teeth literally an inch away from the Keeper's outstretched hand.
"Yeh see, he knows me!" Hagrid was overjoyed.
"I'm going to be sick," Draco grumbled into Harry's ear. "This beast has to go and fast. That, or we'll need to go to Dumbledore."
"But where to?" Harry replied pensively. A vague thought lurked at the back of his mind, but he could not quite catch it. He has surely heard something on the topic... something about dragons... then suddenly it dawned on him: "Charlie!"
Everyone turned to him.
"Charlie?" Draco repeated, surprised.
"Is this some sort of wizarding common phrase?" Hermione asked. "Like 'eureka'?"
"What is 'eureka'?" Neville perked up.
"Charlie Weasley," Harry explained impatiently, burning with his new idea. "Fred and George told me about him. He works in Romania, in a dragon reserve. We should send him a letter and ask him to take Norbert."
Everyone except Hagrid liked the idea. Even Draco after some hesitation found it reasonable. They had to persuade the Keeper of the Keys for two more hours, and here Hermione had the most success. She painted such a vivid picture of the little dragon's future happy life in the open among its kin that Hagrid finally succumbed. He even wanted to write to Charlie himself, but Draco suddenly interfered, "Let Harry talk to the Weasley brothers. To the twins, I mean."
Harry was so amazed, that he could only stare at his brother, while Draco continued, "First of all, no one will suspect anything if they contact their brother. They are family, after all, surely they exchange letters anyway. Secondly..." Draco hesitated, and then continued, but it seemed that at first he wanted to say something else. "Secondly, they can also think of something useful."
Much later, when the two of them were walking back to the dormitory in the dungeons, Harry could not hold it anymore.
"Listen, what did you really want to say then? About the twins? You thought of something different, I saw it."
Draco gave him a patronizing glance.
"You are crazy if you think that I'll take on smuggling dragons myself. I would prefer it to be your red-headed friends' problem. I'm sure they'll like it."
Harry laughed, and Draco did too. Their laughter echoed in the empty corridor. It was not the only sound, though, and Harry perked up... No, it was all quiet, so he must have imagined the footsteps.
X X X
Draco had not been mistaken; Fred and George thought it was a brilliant idea. Not only did they take upon themselves all the correspondence with Charlie, but also started visiting Hagrid to help feed Norbert.
"Everything's just peachy," Fred announced a week later. "Operation Package is planned for this Saturday night. Charlie's friends will take Norbert from us, but we need to pack it properly first."
"And to deliver it to the top of the Astronomy tower at midnight," George added.
"Piece of cake," Draco quipped.
"It is," Fred smirked.
"Don't fret, we've done worse!" George winked.
Fate decided to ruin their plans, though. Wednesday evening, after another Norbert feeding session, Fred returned to the castle with a bloodied hand hastily wrapped in a handkerchief.
"What happened?" Harry asked in alarm. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Draco's face fall.
"It's nothing," Fred waved away the concerns. "The beast bit me. Merlin's beard, what teeth! How does Charlie deal with them every day? Anyway, I'll be fine by Saturday."
Sadly, by the next morning his bitten hand had swollen, and by lunch time it had also turned slightly green. There was nothing for Fred but to go to Madam Pomfrey, who made him stay in the hospital wing, of course. Carrying the dragon anywhere on Saturday was out of question. They were lucky that the twins were known for conducting experiments with magic and regularly ended up at Madam Pomfrey's domain. It seemed, after some time she just stopped listening to their explanations — they rarely told her the truth anyway.
In the evening, when they visited Fred in the hospital wing, George sat by his brother's bedside, clearly upset.
"I can't carry the crate up there on my own," he said gravely and quietly, after making sure no one was listening in. "I need one of you guys to help me."
Draco and Harry looked at each other. Draco paled — he doubtlessly did not like the mere thought of carrying a dragon across the whole castle at night himself. Then Harry had another idea.
"It's alright," he said, stepping on his brother's foot. "We'll manage on our own. I have a plan."
Draco stared as if the earth had spun off its axis, and Harry stepped on his foot a little harder, wordlessly saying "I know what I'm doing". Judging by the expression on Draco's face, he was not convinced, but resigned himself and nodded.
Fred frowned, putting aside the latest Quidditch Weekly. He bookmarked it with some piece of parchment, covered in handwriting.
"Are you sure you'll manage?"
"Don't fret," Harry winked. "We've done worse!"
As soon as they returned to the dungeons again, Draco gripped his hand and dragged him to de Combrai's chambers. Apparently he had such an expression on his face that Geraint did not even bother with pleasantries, but silently opened the door and returned to his research.
"Are you crazy?" Draco shouted as soon as the door closed after them. "Have you got any idea just what you have dragged us into? This is no joke! Dragon smuggling is illegal! Can you imagine what might happen if we are caught?"
"We won't be caught," Harry answered confidently, even though deep inside he had some doubts. "We'll use the cloak."
Draco shut his mouth as if gagged.
"Oh," he said. "I forgot about it."
"Don't get mad," Harry continued hurriedly. "I just... I don't want anyone but us to know about the cloak. But if you disagree, I can still go with George."
"Are you crazy?" Draco flared. "You're right, of course. It's better if no one else knows about it. But... how are we going to fit under the cloak with the crate?"
"I don't know," Harry admitted honestly. "But if anything goes wrong, we'll just drop the crate and hide, alright? Let them deal with the dragon in this case."
"Can you imagine what will happen if, for example, Trelawney finds it?" Draco snorted.
"Or Filch!" Harry added. They both laughed.
X X X
However, at eleven thirty p.m. on Saturday they were no more in a laughing mood. Hagrid had been late with the packing. His bruises and scratched arms, along with the visible new dents on the hut's door made it clear that Norbert was not eager to get into the crate. The 'Package' turned out to be terribly heavy and bulky. Luckily, the Invisibility cloak covered both boys and the crate, but it was still terribly unwieldy. Panting and sweating, they carried Norbert to the castle first, then cautiously trudged through deserted corridors to the staircase leading up to the Astronomy tower and sat down to catch their breath.
"If I ever agree to do something like this again..." Draco whispered, winded.
Harry had nothing to say to that. He nodded and suddenly froze: somewhere really close there was a rustle. Both backed into a corner, bundled into the cloak and held their breaths, hoping that it would not cross Norbert's mind to start fussing right this minute.
Someone was fighting in the corridor, but it was too dark to see who it was. The scrabble became louder, then the torches flared up, and the boys saw Professor McGonagall in a tartan bathrobe, tightly holding Theodore Nott by the ear.
"What are you doing here, Mr. Nott?" the Head of Gryffindor asked menacingly. "It's almost midnight, curfew was three hours ago! Do you realize that you will get a detention?"
"You don't understand!" Nott whined. "Malfoy and Potter are here! They want to send a dragon somewhere! It's smuggling!"
Harry's heart was beating so wildly that for a second he wondered why no one had heard it yet. Now he was sure he did hear the footsteps that day in the dungeons, someone was eavesdropping, and this someone was Nott!
"What utter rubbish!" McGonagall exclaimed indignantly. "You can't hope to distract me with such nonsense! Twenty points from Slytherin! And I will report you to Professor Snape immediately!"
McGonagall led Nott away (he was still whining). Draco and Harry looked at each other: they wished pixies pinched this idiot! Knowing them well, Severus, unlike McGonagall, could believe his story — just enough to start checking it up.
"Let's move," Harry said quietly. "The sooner we get rid of the evidence, the higher chances are of wriggling out of this one."
By the time they delivered Norbert to the top of the tower, they were sweating and out of breath. Wiping sweat off his brow, Harry folded the Invisibility cloak and hid it into his pocket. No one should know about it, especially some friends of Charlie Weasley. On the floor the crate squeaked and shook. Either Norbert was tired of sitting still or it liked being carried, who knew. Time dragged on slowly, Harry was getting more and more nervous. Where were these dragon lovers?
Ten minutes later, four broomsticks swooped onto the landing. Charlie's friends turned out to be men of business. Without idle chat they quickly fastened Norbert's crate to the broomsticks with the special harness they prepared for a long flight, cheerfully said their farewells and were off into the night sky. As soon as they were out of sight, Draco breathed a sigh of relief.
"Phew, we are done," he said.
"Are you indeed?" Severus asked from behind their backs.
They turned around, and their hearts sank. McGonagall, who had added a tartan rug over her bathrobe, and their angry godfather stood at the entrance to the landing.
"What have you done exactly, may I ask?" Severus snapped.
Harry looked down, desperately hoping that this way Severus would not be able to read the degree of their guilt on their faces.
"It was just a joke," Draco mumbled.
Puzzled, Harry looked up and staggered: the Head of Gryffindor was holding the piece of parchment that Fred had used as a bookmark. It looked like a letter... Charlie's letter?!
"A joke, they say!" McGonagall flared up. "Messing with heads of your housemates, planting a forged letter to the Prefect of another House, running around the castle at night! I have barely talked Percy out of calling for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. He sincerely believed that you actually bred dragons in this school! How did you come up with that idea? A detention, for both of you! And fifty points off Slytherin!"
Harry closed his eyes tight. Now Severus will kill them for sure. Losing seventy points in one night!
"For each of you!" McGonagall finished her tirade. "This is just unheard-of! Severus, please take them away before I strangle them with my bare hands!"
"With pleasure, Minerva," Severus replied in such a voice that Harry's stomach dropped. "With great pleasure. Now, would you be so kind to follow me, gentlemen. And keep your mouths shut!"
With this, he turned around and went down the stairs. There was nothing for it, and they followed him, trying not to make any sounds at all. However, Harry was sure it would not save them, and by the end of this night the loss of a hundred and twenty points would not be the worst punishment they got.
