The ferret's remark about his Grandfather and mother lingered in Alexander's mind during the next few days. It was hard to forget and every time he would focus on his homework or practise spells with Professor Flitwick, Malfoy's taunt echoed – one word especially: 'blood traitor.' He didn't know the full meaning of the word but had a slight inkling that Malfoy clearly hadn't meant it in a good sense. Malfoy had sort of spat it out as if it were a dirty word to be associated with.

Alexander picked up a book in the library, during one of his free periods, called Purebloods of British Wizarding Families and flicked through it as a way to satisfy his curiosity. The first few chapters didn't have much information on blood traitor; the book simply defined what it meant to be a Pureblood. It detailed family trees and, to Alexander's revulsion, he learnt that Purebloods nowadays frequently practised inbreeding to maintain the bloodline. He shivered at the horrifying notion and was eternally grateful that he would never be forced to marry any relative, not that he had any relatives apart from Grandfather. The book also had chapters dedicated to Half-bloods and Muggleborns.

Though the book was supposed to take an unbiased view, there was a slight tone of superiority, almost condescending-like, when it came to talking about muggles. Alexander checked who the author was and it turned out to be an old man who by now was in his eighties. Several pages before the end, his eye caught a mention of blood traitor. He leaned in to read:

"Blood traitor" is a disparaging term, commonly used by certain Pureblood witches and wizards, to describe those who sympathise with the muggles or willingly associate with other such sympathisers or with Muggleborns.

That was it. There was no other mention of the term in the book. Alexander's mind raced. So, he was right. Malfoy had meant the term in a derogatory way – the book confirmed it, albeit briefly. His mother was a blood traitor according to the ferret, meaning she associated with Muggleborns or muggles. Yet, that was a good thing, and Alexander felt proud that his mother had not discriminated against Muggleborns.

But his Grandfather apparently wasn't a blood traitor. Malfoy had suggested that his Grandfather was an elitist Pureblood, a concept that made Alexander's stomach churn unpleasantly. Malfoy must have been lying to get a rise out of him. Granted Grandfather was stern and temperate, but he played football – a muggle sport – with Alexander sometimes. He brought the dark-haired boy muggle toys and books as presents. Also, Grandfather worked with muggles and Muggleborns every day as well as other wizards and witches. His closest companion was Eliot for God's sake! A Squib. How could Grandfather have the same values and beliefs as Malfoy? Perhaps he didn't know Grandfather as well as he thought he did. He vowed to ascertain more information.

∞ ϟ 9¾

Snape's threat towards Quirrell hung on their minds in the next few weeks like a dark shadow. They constantly fretted that Snape would get his hands on the Stone sometime before the year was over. Alexander thought Quirrell's nerves and determination were as weak as a plastic bag on a windy day – crumbling and unstable. It'd take a miracle for Quirrell to stand up against Snape.

Every time they passed the third-floor corridor, the four would press their ears to the door to check that Fluffy was still growling inside. Harry would give Quirrell an encouraging sort of smile, and Ron had started telling people off for laughing at Quirrell's stutter.

Quirrell, however, must have been braver than they'd thought. His physical appearance was the only indication that revealed the burden, but it didn't look as though he'd given in to Snape. Quirrell became paler and thinner while Snape started to become angrier and more prone to hostile outbursts in Potions. The Potions Master snarled furiously at Harry more often and reduced Neville to tears. No one dared to breathe in the lesson; the Gryffindors hardly raised their eyes to look him in the eyes in fear of losing points. Even the Slytherins were caught on the receiving end of Snape's frustration after Crabbe stirred his Potion in the wrong direction and caused a smell so vile to erupt that some first-years physically gagged. Many students recoiled from the stench including Malfoy who pushed Crabbe roughly away from him to escape to the other side.

'The miserable bat is getting on my last nerve,' fumed Alexander, as he slung his book bag over his shoulder after the end of the lesson.

'I know,' grumbled Ron, face scrunched up in disdain. 'I wish we didn't have to do Potions.'

Hermione threw a disapproving glance. 'This is a good thing. Snape's mood, I mean,' she pointed out, as they made their way to the Great Hall for lunch.

Ron stared at her in disbelief. 'Listen, I know you think all teachers are God's gift on earth, Hermione, but even you can't defend Snape. Not after he made Neville cry.'

'I'm not defending him, Ronald, I meant in the wider sense.'

'You've lost me.'

'She's right,' Alexander concurred, realising Hermione's thinking. 'Snape's anger means that he hasn't found a way to get past Fluffy.' The four had reached the Hall. Alexander reached out to pop a mint humbug in his mouth.

'So, the Stone's still safe,' sighed Harry in relief.

'Yeah, but who knows for how long?' Alexander dragged his palms up his thighs. 'Quirrell's not exactly Superman, is he? He's going to give in eventually.'

'Who's Superman?' asked Ron confusedly through a mouthful of pork pie. Hermione shot him a disgusted look. 'What?'

'That's what I'm worried about,' stated Harry, his gaze focused on the high table where Snape saw Harry and sneered. 'Snape getting past Fluffy.'

'Let's hope Quirrell has nerves of steel,' said Alexander.

Ron snorted. 'Fat chance.'

∞ ϟ 9¾

Sometime in March, Hermione became frazzled and stressed, much like how she was during the beginning of the year. She had much more on her mind than the Philosopher's Stone. She had started drawing up a study timetable and colour-coding all her notes. Alexander was impressed with her work ethic if slightly daunted. No one valued their education greater than Hermione did, and it was something she had in common with his Grandfather. Exams in Alexander's primary school were more like small tests rather than formal exams and he had a feeling that Hogwarts would require a full-on written and practical exam. One for the theory and one for demonstrating the magic.

Alexander wasn't the type of person to revise his notes days before the exam, but a couple of weeks before. As long as he was calm and had eaten on the day, he'd do well. He wondered what would happen if someone failed yet didn't ask Hermione because he didn't want to worsen her stress levels more so than usual. Perhaps, they might have to repeat the year. Alexander couldn't think of anything worse than failing exams then having to watch everyone else in the year progress further. Ron, however, told him that failing the first-year happens very rarely and the last person to fail attended over thirty years ago. Though Ron admitted, smirking, that the record could be broken this year with Crabbe and Goyle, causing Alexander to snicker and nod in agreement.

Alexander would hear Hermione mutter her notes throughout their meals in the Hall and would often have a book open on the wooden table. Her brown eyes fixed on the book while she placed food in her mouth simultaneously. Alexander admired her dedication though believed it was a bit excessive. He had complete faith that Hermione would pass all her exams, even History of Magic. Because if Hermione Granger failed an exam, what chance did the rest of their year have?

Hermione also urged Harry and Ron to start revising, much to their disgruntlement. While Alexander hadn't exactly begun properly revising, he did skim through his notes occasionally.

'Why aren't you nagging Alexander?' demanded Ron, as he was playing a chess game with Harry. Alexander and Neville were sat on the sofa watching the two.

'Alexander doesn't need me to tell him to revise. He's already doing it,' she sniffed.

Ron turned to stare at Alexander in incredulity and Alexander shook his head.

'It's not really revising,' he defended.

Hermione threw him a slight glare and he slid deeper into the sofa. Hermione's glare was truly terrifying to be the recipient off, even if it was a small one. 'You need to take this seriously – this is our future we're talking about,' she snapped.

Neville shifted uncomfortably and swallowed nervously.

'Hermione, the exams are ages away,' moaned Ron, collecting another piece of Harry's set.

'Ten weeks! That's not ages, that's like a second to Nicolas Flamel.'

'But we're not six hundred years old.'

Alexander widened his eyes, alarmed at her comment. 'Wait, only ten weeks. It seems shorter when you say it like that. Maybe we should be revising now.'

'You see,' Hermione said haughtily at Ron. 'It's not that long now.'

Ron scoffed, 'Anyway, what are you studying for, you already know it all.'

Hermione's mouth dropped as if she couldn't believe Ron's ignorance. 'What am I studying for? Are you crazy?'

'What?' shrugged Ron rather carelessly as he peered at Hermione's disbelieving scowl. 'It was only a question.'

'Wow, Ron, run while you still can,' laughed Alexander, and Harry grinned.

Unimpressed, Hermione gazed at Ron. 'You realize we need to pass these exams to get into the second year? They're very important, I should have started studying a month ago, I don't know what's gotten into me.' And with that, she marched up to the girls' dormitory.

Ron grinned victoriously as he yelled 'checkmate.' Harry sighed in disappointment.

'Hermione might be right you know, mate,' reminded Alexander. 'It's safer to get an early start.'

Ron groaned. 'Yeah, yeah. Look, you two can start now but Harry and me are waiting for later.' Harry shrugged in response.

'It's up to you.' Alexander rose from the sofa and made his way to the dormitories.

The teachers seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Hermione. They piled so much homework that the Easter holidays had Alexander and Hermione in the library most of the time trying to maintain their workload. Alexander had improved with Astronomy thanks to Hermione's help. Professor Sinistra thought so too because she praised Hermione one lesson for her assistance, in which she trembled excitedly, and Alexander for his hard work and effort, causing him to redden in embarrassment. Astronomy homework was easier to complete now that he understood the basics. Yet, along with other core subjects and Professor Flitwick's extra charm work, Alexander's free periods was jam-packed. Annoyingly, this meant that he couldn't research information on his Grandfather or Purebloods, not if it meant falling behind.

Other subjects weren't difficult per se – though Ron and Harry may disagree – the work content was just much higher. Alexander could hear Hermione recite the twelve uses of dragon's blood or practise wand movements. Harry and Ron were expectedly displeased with the sudden stacking of homework. Moaning and yawning, the two joined Hermione and Alexander in the library during most of their free time.

'It's like the Professors think we don't have lives,' grumbled Ron, scowling with one hand tucked under his chin and a quill hovering over his blank parchment.

Alexander shot him a side-glance. 'We're at a school, Ronald, not Disneyland. What did you think was gonna happen?' Alexander's quill scribbled down the colour of the spell that turned mice into snuffboxes. Harry snickered. Hermione had tuned out the lot of them and was reciting a Potion's ingredients to herself.

'What's Disneyland?' Ron asked rather loudly and a pretty fifth-year girl shushed him with a fierce glare. Mortified, Ron's cheeks blazed ruby and he kept his head lowered to his essay.

A tiny smirk upturned the corner of Alexander's mouth.

'Shut up, Alex,' muttered Ron.

Truth be told, this wasn't the first time that Alexander thought a girl was beautiful. He was finding that many of the girls he saw throughout the castle, through corridors, the courtyard, and the Great Hall, were very pretty. He didn't know what it was but sometimes their hair glowed nicely; some had vivid eye colours or unforgettable smiles. The most bizarre thing, however, was his reaction to it. His mouth went dry and his heart pounded quicker like he had done a small sprint. He was hypersensitive of his surroundings and himself in a way he'd never thought of before and it was difficult to make sense of. All of a sudden, his hair didn't look good enough or his lips were too dry. Other moments, his brain would induce him to think a cluster of third-year girls somehow were laughing at him and cause him to feel uneasy. Harry and Ron didn't have this problem, though maybe not yet. They didn't turn red if a pretty girl so much as glanced at them.

Ron's outburst disturbed the pages of Alexander's thoughts. 'I'll never remember this.' Ron threw down his quill and stared longingly out of the library window. The day was postcard-perfect, for the first time in months; it was the type of weather that feels like a kiss of summer without the fiery heat of an August noon. The grass was freshly-cut green and the sky blazed a brilliant blue.

Harry was staring fixedly at One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi and didn't look up.

'I don't think everything's going to be on the exams, Ron,' said Alexander. 'Maybe you don't need to remember every detail.' In a quieter tone, he leaned in closer to say, 'though I expect Hermione will.' Ron snorted and Hermione snapped her head up, narrowing her brown eyes suspiciously at the two boys. Alexander quickly jotted down another use for dragon's blood.

'Hagrid!' came Ron's excited voice. The other three snapped their heads up at the sight of their familiar hairy friend. '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.

Alexander sighed internally. If Hagrid was trying not to look dubious, then he was doing a bad job.

'An' what're you lot up ter?' Hagrid looked suddenly suspicious. 'Yer not still lookin' fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?'

'Oh, we found out who he is ages ago,' said Ron, waving a hand to dismiss the question, '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' go shoutin' about it, what's the matter with yeh?'

'Merde, Ron,' exclaimed Alexander in exasperation. 'You don't need to broadcast it to the whole of Hogwarts.'

Ron had the decency to appear sheepish and mumble an apology.

'There are a few things we wanted to ask you, as a matter of fact,' began Harry, 'about what's guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy —'

'SHHHH!' hissed 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 —'

'Mmm, I'm sure you've been a great help,' smirked Alexander, leaning back in his chair.

'See you later, then,' said Harry. Hagrid shuffled out right before Pince could throw him out as the librarian did look shiftily in their direction.

'What was he hiding behind his back?' said Hermione thoughtfully. 'Do you think it had anything to do with the Stone?'

'No,' denied Alexander. 'He just said students aren't supposed to know, so why would he have something to do with the Stone in a place where most of the Hogwarts population can see.'

Hermione nodded. 'I suppose you're right. It would be rather imprudent.'

Ron stood up. 'I'm going to see what section he was in,' he declared, having 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. 'Dragons!' he 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.'

Alexander's blue eyes widened. 'Dragons! Hey, I saw one when I visited Gringotts in the summer.'

'But why is Hagrid looking at dragons?'

'Something tells me this isn't a harmless hobby,' muttered Alexander dryly.

'Hagrid's always wanted a dragon, he told me so the first time I ever met him,' Harry said to them.

'But it's against our laws,' explained Ron. 'Dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlocks' Convention of 1709, everyone knows that.'

Alexander resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Some of the things that Ron said were hilarious, but others were just plain ignorant and tone-deaf. Hermione looked as if she wanted to interrupt but chose to remain silent.

Ron continued, 'It's hard to stop Muggles from noticing us if we're keeping dragons in the back garden — anyway, you can't tame dragons, it's dangerous. You should see the burns Charlie's got off wild ones in Romania.'

'But there aren't wild dragons in Britain?' said Harry.

'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 kind has to keep putting spells on Muggles who've spotted them, to make them forget.'

'What happens if they remember?' inquired Alexander.

'They don't, that's the point.'

'Wait, so the spell doesn't wear off? The ministry doesn't keep using the spell repeatedly – it's permanent?'

Ron furrowed his brows and shrugged. 'Uh, I'm not sure. But Charlie told me that it works.'

'So what on earth's Hagrid up to?' questioned Hermione.

'I don't know,' Alexander shook his head then admitted, 'but I have a hunch that it isn't good.'

'Let's hope your hunch is wrong,' Hermione bit her lip worriedly.

∞ ϟ 9¾

The four made their way to Hagrid's hut an hour later, minds racing at what Hagrid could be hiding. The sweet fragrance of summer's promise lingered in the air. The older years lounged out across the grass, enjoying the sunshine. He saw Nia and Helen sat together against a tree but they were too far to notice him. Alexander's Gryffindor tie hung loosely around his collar shirt, sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and he decided to forego his school Cloak.

The gamekeeper's curtains were all closed. Something was wrong. Hermione glanced anxiously at him; Alexander raised a fist to rap on the wooden front door.

Hagrid called, 'Who is it?' before he let them in, then shut the door quickly behind them when Alexander replied.

A flash of heat slammed against his face. Even though it was such a warm day, there was a blazing fire in the grate. It was unbearable and Alexander was thankful that he hadn't worn his Cloak. The others hadn't been so lucky and looked very uncomfortable. Fang bounded towards Alexander, tongue lolling in what seemed a grin. Alexander laughed and patted the loveable dog. Fang barked happily.

Hagrid made them tea and offered them stoat sandwiches, which they all refused.

'So — yeh wanted to ask me somethin'?'

'Yes,' said Harry. They'd all agreed that there was no point in beating around the bush. 'We were wondering if you could tell us what's guarding the Philosopher's Stone apart from Fluffy.'

Alexander peered up at Hagrid's surprised expression. 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.'

'That kind of doesn't matter at this point, Hagrid,' dismissed Alexander. 'But you must know something. Dumbledore probably told you.' Alexander tried to keep his tone steady and urging. With the right encouragement, Hagrid could be persuaded to tell them. They just needed patience.

'No, yer lot need ter give it up. It's already bad enough yer kno' about Fluffy,' groused a frustrated Hagrid.

'Oh, come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you do know, you know everything that goes on around here,' said Hermione in a warm, flattering voice.

Hagrid's beard twitched; he was smiling.

'We only wondered who had done the guarding, really,' Hermione went on, 'we wondered who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you.' Hagrid's chest swelled at these last words. Harry and Ron beamed at Hermione. Alexander gazed in admiration at her. Who knew Hermione Granger had a manipulative streak? Every day he discovered new sides to her.

Hagrid ran a hand across his bushy beard. '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, 'Professor Quirrell an' Dumbledore himself did somethin', o' course. Hang on, I've forgotten someone. Oh yeah — Professor Snape.'

'Snape?' burst Harry disbelievingly.

'Yeah — yer not still on abou' that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped protect the Stone, he's not about ter steal it.'

Or used it as a cover, thought Alexander. If Snape had been in on protecting the Stone, it must have been easy to find out how the other teachers had guarded it. He probably knew everything, everything except, it seemed, Quirrell's spell and how to get past Fluffy. Which meant that Snape was close. The other three also appeared worried – Harry had turned pale.

'You're the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy, aren't you, Hagrid?' prodded Harry anxiously. 'And you wouldn't tell anyone, would you? Not even one of the teachers?'

'Not a soul knows except me an' Dumbledore,' declared Hagrid in a proud voice.

'Well, that's something,' Harry muttered to them.

Alexander wasn't so sure. If Hagrid could accidentally inform four first-years like themselves about Fluffy and Nicholas Flamel, who is to say he wouldn't tell Snape how to get past? Hagrid was a kind and trustworthy person that Alexander would trust with Apollo, but he wasn't exactly the Picasso at holding secrets.

'Hagrid, can we have a window open? I'm boiling.'

Harry's voice reminded Alexander how oppressive the hut had become. He didn't even want to think about how the others felt. Hermione's cheeks flushed reddish. Even though he'd shed his heavy clothing, Alexander felt a small trickle of sweat creep down the back of his neck. He tugged at his collar shirt with two fingers.

'Can't, Harry, sorry,' said Hagrid, who glanced at the fire.

'Hagrid, what are you doing with that?' asked Alexander, narrowing his eyes at the source of all the heat. In the very centre, underneath the kettle, was a huge, black egg.

'Ah,' said Hagrid, fiddling nervously with his beard and avoiding eye contact with any of them, 'That's – er . . .'

'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.'

'Yeah, those aren't exactly cheap, Hagrid,' Alexander raised an eyebrow.

'Won it,' confessed Hagrid. 'Las' night. I was down in the village havin' a few drinks an' got into a game o' cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest.'

'I'll say . . .'

'But what are you going to do with it when it's hatched?' challenged Hermione.

Hagrid grinned in triumph. 'Well, I've bin doin' some readin'.' He pulled out a large book from under his pillow. '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.'

Alexander caught Hermione's eye and they shared an apprehensive glance. They both knew this wouldn't turn out good in the long run.

Hagrid continued in a happy tone, 'Keep the egg in the fire, 'cause their mothers breathe on 'em, see, an' when it hatches, feed it on a bucket o' brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. An' see here — how ter recognize diff'rent eggs — what I got there's a Norwegian Ridgeback. They're rare, them.' He looked delighted with himself.

Hermione in a flat tone pointed out, 'Hagrid, you live in a wooden house.'

'She's right, Hagrid. Wood is highly flammable in spreading fire. How else do you think the Great Fire of London spread?' argued Alexander.

'They won't do any harm,' defended Hagrid.

'Hagrid, a Welsh Green caused the Fire, you know that,' said Ron.

Alexander turned his head towards Ron, eyes wide. 'Wait, what? I thought a Baker started it on Pudding Lane.'

'No, that's the cover story so the muggles don't suspect. It was a Welsh Green, really,' Ron shook his head.

'That's all the more reason, Hagrid,' came Hermione's strained voice.

But Hagrid wasn't listening. He was humming merrily as he stoked the fire. Alexander sighed in dismay.

∞ ϟ 9¾

Along with worrying about Snape getting his hand on the Stone, they were now concerned about what might happen to Hagrid if anyone found out he was hiding an illegal dragon in his hut. Hagrid was the kindest man Alexander ever knew, next to Eliot. He'd hate to see him lose his house and job because of his dangerous obsession with dragons.

'Wonder what it's like to have a peaceful life,' sighed Ron, staring wretchedly at the pile of homework he was given.

'When was the last time you had a hobby, perhaps,' snorted Alexander, half-way through to finishing his Herbology essay. Neville's book gifted on his birthday was a blessing.

'Last year, maybe,' muttered Harry. Hermione had now started making study timetables for Harry and Ron, too. It was driving them mad. Alexander found their irritated expressions hilarious.

One breakfast time, Harry's owl, Hedwig, brought another note from Hagrid. He had written only two words in a messy scribble: It's hatching.

'Right, well, I'm skipping Herbology. After I eat, I'm going straight down to Hagrid's,' declared Ron. 'Who's with me?'

Hermione wouldn't hear of it. 'No, you can't,' she hissed. 'You'll miss out on something important for the exam.'

Ron groaned. 'Hermione, how many times in our lives are we going to see a dragon hatching?'

'He's got a point,' shrugged Alexander, earning a scowl from Hermione and a grin from Ron.

'We've got lessons, we'll get into trouble, and that's nothing to what Hagrid's going to be in when someone finds out what he's doing —'

'Shut up!' whispered Harry. Alexander glanced around. Malfoy was only a few feet away and he had stopped in his tracks. How much had he heard? The ferret's face was blank. Did he know about the dragon and Hagrid?

During the walk to Herbology, Hermione agreed to run down to Hagrid's during morning break. When the bell sounded from the castle at the end of their lesson, the four of them dropped their trowels at once and hurried through the grounds to the edge of the forest.

Hagrid greeted them, flushed and excited. 'It's nearly out.' He ushered them inside.

The egg was lying on the table with deep cracks all over its surface. It was close to hatching. Something was moving inside, ringing a strange clicking noise. They all drew their chairs up to the table. The cracks were becoming larger. Any second now. All at once, there was a scraping noise and the egg split open. The baby dragon flopped onto the table. It was an unpleasant creature, resembling a crumpled umbrella than the majestic dragon in Gringotts. Its spiny wings were disproportionately large compared to its skinny, jet body; it had a long snout with nostrils the size of golf balls, the stubs of horns and bulging orange eyes. The baby dragon sneezed and sparks flew out of its snout.

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

Beautiful was not exactly the word Alexander would use to describe it.

'Bless him, look, he knows his mummy!' cried Hagrid.

Alexander bit his inner lip to stop himself from laughing.

'Hagrid,' Hermione spoke up, 'how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?'

Hagrid opened his mouth to answer when the colour suddenly drained from his face. He leapt to his feet and ran to the window.

Alexander snapped around. '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, looked out, and his expression was horrified.

'Did you see him, Harry?'

'I did,' came Harry's hoarse whisper. 'It's Malfoy.' And just like that, a sick feeling settled in the pit of Alexander's stomach. This can't be good.

∞ ϟ 9¾

The smile on Malfoy's face during the next week was sinister. Alexander constantly watched the blond ferret, looking for anything Malfoy would say that would place Hagrid in trouble. He darkly vowed that if Malfoy got Hagrid fired, the ferret would get what's coming for him. Harry was a mess. He nervously fidgeted every time he saw Malfoy. Alexander had to nudge him often.

'Stop that,' he muttered quietly to Harry. 'You're only going to make him more suspicious.'

Alexander also spent time with the other three in Hagrid's darkened hut, trying to reason with him about the dragon.

'You need to let him go, Hagrid,' implored Alexander. 'Set him free.'

'I can't,' said Hagrid with a small shake. 'He's too little. He'd die.'

They looked at the dragon. To describe it as a baby would have been highly inaccurate, appearance-wise. Smoke furled out of its nostrils, and it had grown three times in length. There were empty brandy bottles and chicken feathers all over the floor. Hagrid had neglected his gamekeeping duties because the dragon was keeping him so busy, which, in Alexander's opinion, seemed quite irresponsible.

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

'He's lost his marbles,' Ron murmured to them, and Alexander found himself agreeing with Ron.

Harry also entreated Hagrid to see reason. 'Hagrid,' Harry began loudly, 'give it two weeks and Norbert's going to be as long as your house.'

' 'course Norbert's going to grow,' shrugged Hagrid. 'He's su'posed to grow.'

'He doesn't belong here,' explained Alexander, 'let Norbert grow up in the wild with other dragons. He'll be much happier there.'

Hagrid bit his lip and in an unsure tone admitted, 'I – I know he doesn't, but I can't jus' dump him, I can't.'

'Charlie,' said Harry to Ron.

Alexander stared. 'No, that's Ron,' he corrected. 'Charlie is his older brother, remember.'

'You're losing it, too,' worried Ron.

'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!'

'Harry Potter, sometimes your brain works wonders,' professed Alexander in a thrilled tone.

'Brilliant!' exclaimed Ron and snapped his head up. 'How about it, Hagrid?' Hagrid agreed that they could send an owl to Charlie to ask him.

∞ ϟ 9¾

Wednesday night found Alexander, Hermione, and Harry alone in the common room, long after everyone else had gone to bed. Alexander was pacing around the room as the other two watched him nervously. The portrait hole burst open when the clock on the wall chimed midnight. Ron appeared as he pulled off Harry's Invisibility Cloak. He had been down at Hagrid's hut, helping him feed Norbert, who was now eating dead rats by the crate.

'It bit me!' he said in a pained voice, showing them his hand, which was wrapped in a bloody handkerchief.

Alexander grimaced. 'Yeah, that does look rough, mate.'

Ron sighed. 'I'm not going to be able to hold a quill for a week. I tell you, that dragon's the most horrible animal I've ever met, but the way Hagrid goes on about it, you'd think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit. When it bit me, he told me off for frightening it. And when I left, he was singing it a lullaby.'

'People love their animals, some more than others.'

'You're telling me,' grumbled Ron.

A tapping noise came from the dark window. 'It's Hedwig,' acknowledged Harry, hurrying to let her in. 'She'll have Charlie's answer!' The four of them put their heads together to read the note.

Dear Ron,

How are you? Thanks for your letter. I'd be glad to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it won't be easy getting him here. I think the best thing will be to send him over with some friends of mine who are coming to visit me next week. Trouble is, they mustn't be seen carrying an illegal dragon. Could you get the Ridgeback up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and take him away while it's still dark. Send me an answer as soon as possible.

Love, Charlie.

'We've got the Invisibility Cloak,' assured Harry. 'It shouldn't be too difficult – I think the cloak's big enough to cover us and Norbert.'

'This is going to go horribly wrong,' groaned Alexander. 'You all remember what happened the last time we were out that late.'

'Always the voice of doom,' Hermione rolled her eyes.

'But it's the only plan we've got,' said Harry.

Well, anything to get rid of Norbert and Malfoy off their backs.

∞ ϟ 9¾

But, as always, everything went to merde, starting from the next morning. Ron's bitten hand had swollen to twice its usual size and looked like a blown-up red balloon. He didn't know whether it was safe to go to Madam Pomfrey because she might recognise a dragon bite. By the afternoon, the cut had turned a nasty shade of green. Ron had no choice because Alexander warned him that if he didn't go himself, then Alexander would drag him straight to bed number three.

Ron was in a terrible state in bed when they visited him.

'It's not just my hand,' he whispered, 'although that feels like it's about to fall off. Malfoy told Madam Pomfrey he wanted to borrow one of my books so he could come and have a good laugh at me. He kept threatening to tell her what really bit me – I've told her it was a dog, but I don't think she believes me – I shouldn't have hit him at the Quidditch match, that's why he's doing this.'

'Don't beat yourself up about it, Ron,' muttered Alexander with a scowl. 'The ferret has been headed out for you and Harry since the beginning – this was bound to happen.'

'It'll all be over at midnight on Saturday,' reassured Hermione, but Ron wasn't soothed at all.

He bolted upright and broke into a sweat. 'Midnight on Saturday!' he said in a guttural voice. 'Oh no – oh no —'

'What's wrong,' urged Alexander, glancing worriedly. Ron appeared as if he had been told that Hagrid has been fired and left Hogwarts suddenly.

'I've just remembered – Charlie's letter was in that book Malfoy took, he's going to know we're getting rid of Norbert.'

Alexander's blood ran cold, and he sharply inhaled. Before the three of them could answer though, Madam Pomfrey stormed over and ushered them out, announcing that Ron needed sleep. Ron threw them a gloomy look as they glanced over their shoulders.

'It's too late to change the plan now,' mumbled Harry, outside the Hospital Wing. 'We haven't got time to send Charlie another owl, and this could be our only chance to get rid of Norbert. We'll have to risk it.'

'This is all sorts of reckless,' sighed Alexander, then with a tiny smirk added, 'but what we have in our favour is Harry's Invisibility Cloak, Malfoy doesn't know about that.'

Fang sat outside Hagrid's hut with a bandaged tail. Alexander gave him a comforting pet and Fang whimpered woefully.

Hagrid opened a window to talk to them. 'I won't let you in,' he puffed. 'Norbert's at a tricky stage – nothin' I can't handle.'

Alexander doubted that judging by Fang's tail but chose to keep quiet. When they told him about Charlie's letter, his eyes filled with tears, though it could have been because Norbert had just bitten him on the leg.

'Aargh! It's all right, he only got my boot – jus' playin' – he's only a baby, after all.'

The baby banged its tail on the wall, making the windows rattle. Alexander, Harry, and Hermione walked back to the castle.

'I thought animals were meant to make you a more responsible person,' Alexander said wryly. 'This seems to be having the opposite effect on Hagrid.'

'Don't worry,' sighed Harry. 'Saturday will be here soon.'

'I hope so. I swear, Hagrid couldn't have wanted a goldfish like anyone else . . .'

∞ ϟ 9¾

Alexander might have been induced to feel sympathy for Hagrid when the time came for him to say goodbye to Norbert if he didn't have to wake up before midnight.

It was a dark and cloudy night. Grumbling and irritated, Alexander arrived a bit late with Harry and Hermione at Hagrid's hut because they'd had to wait for Peeves to get out of their way in the entrance hall, where he'd been playing tennis against the wall. Hagrid had Norbert packed and ready in a large crate.

'He's got lots o' rats an' some brandy fer the journey,' said Hagrid in a muffled voice. 'An' I've packed his teddy bear in case he gets lonely.'

Sighing in irritation, Alexander watched as Hagrid's face scrunched up in sadness. He'd feel bad about it later, but right now he just wants that crate far in the air, away from the school, so Hagrid's job was safe and he could scramble back into bed.

Inside the crate sounded ripping noises. The teddy's head was probably ripped off.

'Bye-bye, Norbert!' sobbed Hagrid, as the three covered the crate with the Invisibility Cloak and stepped underneath it themselves. 'Mummy will never forget you!'

Alexander, Harry, and Hermione carried one side of the crate each. After realising their arms were strained with difficulty, Alexander had an idea and drew his wand out and whispered a spell that made the weight lighter. The two threw him a grateful glance and he gave a curt nod. They walked back up the castle, able to breathe easier.

Midnight ticked nearer as they hoisted Norbert up the marble staircase in the entrance hall and along the dark corridors. Alexander led them through a shortcut passageway the twins showed him. They were nearly there when they reached the corridor beneath the tallest tower. Footsteps sounded from ahead and a sudden movement almost caused Alexander to drop the crate. He gazed at Harry and Hermione and placed a forefinger on his lips, signalling to be quiet. They shrank into the shadows, staring at the dark outlines of two people ten feet away. A lamp flared. Alexander's heart jumped in his mouth. Professor McGonagall, in a tartan bathrobe and a hairnet, had Malfoy by the ear.

'Detention!' she yelled, tone filled with utter fury. 'And twenty points from Slytherin! Wandering around in the middle of the night, how dare you —'

Alexander could have cried from satisfaction. This was a glorious sight that he would cherish. Draco Malfoy pulled along by the ears like a brat of a child who had to be disciplined.

'You don't understand, Professor. Harry Potter's coming – he's got a dragon!'

'What utter rubbish! How dare you tell such lies! Come on – I shall see Professor Snape about you, Malfoy!'

Alexander walked up the steep spiral staircase up to the top of the tower with a smirk. Not until they'd stepped out into the cold night air, did they throw off the Cloak. Chilly air rushed into his lungs, a welcome change to the stuffy Cloak.

Hermione did a sort of jig. 'Malfoy's got detention! I could sing!'

'Don't,' Alexander advised her. 'McGonagall's got cat ears, remember. She could probably hear us from here.'

Chuckling about Malfoy, they waited, Norbert thrashing about in his crate. About ten minutes later, four broomsticks swooped down out of the darkness.

'About time,' exhaled Alexander.

'Alright, you lot?' grinned a stocky man with light brown hair.

Charlie's friends were a cheery bunch. They showed the three the harness they'd rigged up, so they could suspend Norbert between them. They all helped buckle Norbert safely into it and then Alexander, Harry, and Hermione shook hands with the others and thanked them.

'Take care, guys,' said the stocky man. 'Let us know of any other dragons you come across.' He smiled teasingly.

At last, Norbert was going . . . going . . . gone. Alexander breathed the first sigh of relief after a couple of weeks. It was as if a ton of weights that were pressed down on his chest has lifted and he could finally breathe easier. It was over.

They slipped back down the spiral staircase, Alexander's heart as light as his hands. Unfortunately, all happy things must come to an end. Filch's face loomed out of the darkness like a dark omen. His blood turned icy and it was too late to hide because the slimy caretaker had seen them.

'Well, well, well,' he whispered, 'we are in trouble.'

Alexander could have cursed out loud. How could he have been so stupid? He was so caught up in his jubilation and thinking about his sleep, that he'd forgotten the Invisibility Cloak on top of the tower. We're so fucked.

Hermione definitely has a manipulative streak. She could be ruthless if she wanted to, more so than Harry and Ron, though Harry does have his moments.