Happy Christmas Eve, everyone, to all of you who celebrate it! Sorry I didn't update yesterday, I was distracted with a few holiday things. Hopefully a random Thursday posting will make up for it.
Take care of yourselves, everyone, and thanks for reading so far in the story. I hope your 2021 starts off in the best way possible. Until Saturday!
Apparently, Professor Quirrell was stronger than he let on, because for a long time afterwards—much longer than next Tuesday, at any rate—Professor Quirrell did not seem to have cracked. Snape's surly mood all but confirmed our suspicions that our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was holding strong… for now.
After a while, there arrived more pressing matters. March had passed smoothly, and the middle of April had already arrived. With time passing so quickly, both Hermione and I turned our concerns to our impending final exams. It seemed that even though the tests were about two months away, Hermione and I were the only ones who had started studying. Admittedly, however, Hermione was going a little overboard with it. She was fretting about all of her notes, even color-coding them, which the rest of us found extremely amusing.
One afternoon, as Hermione was having her standard fretting about our tests, Harry suggested we go down to Hagrid's to relax and think about something pleasant for a change. Surprisingly, this was met with no arguments, and so we trotted down the grounds and knocked on Hagrid's front door.
"Who is it?" called Hagrid's gruff voice. The four of us exchanged looks as Hagrid opened the door, looking uncharacteristically suspicious. When he saw it was us, he hurriedly admitted us inside, closing the door straightaway.
"Hello, Hagrid," I exclaimed, shooting our friend a large grin. "How are you?"
"Oh, doin' fine, doin' fine," he answered halfheartedly, his eyes darting around the hut. "You lot getting ready for all your tests?"
Ron groaned. "Don't remind me…"
"Hagrid," interrupted Harry, "We wanted to ask you something. We were wondering if you could tell us what's guarding the Sorcerer's Stone apart from Fluffy."
I shot Harry a look and muttered, "I thought we were here to relax and take our minds off of stressful matters?"
Harry grinned at me uneasily and shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry."
"O' course I can't," shrugged the gamekeeper. "One, I don' know myself. Two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn' tell yeh if I could. That Stone's here for a good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts—I suppose you've worked that out an' all? Beats me how yeh even know about Fluffy."
Harry's shoulders slumped, but Hermione didn't seem to believe a word of what was just said. Puffing out her chest, she exclaimed, "Oh come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you do know, you know everything that goes on round here."
Hagrid smiled lightly under his black beard, and that only grew as Hermione continued with, "We only wondered who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you."
This seemed to have done the trick. With a shrug of his great shoulders, Hagrid acquiesced. "Well, I don' suppose it could hurt to tell yeh that… let's see… he borrowed Fluffy from me… then some o' the teachers did enchantments. Professor Sprout—Professor Flitwick—Professor McGonagall—Professor Quirrell… and then Professor Dumbledore himself, of course. Hang on, I missed someone…" he stopped to recall whom he had forgotten. Then, with a snap of his fingers, he exclaimed, "Oh, yeah! And Professor Snape!"
"Snape?" Harry exclaimed, astonished.
I, too, was admittedly flabbergasted.
"Yeah—you're not still on abou' that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped protect the Stone, he's not about ter steal it."
Harry and I exchanged looks; I could see the worry in his green eyes. If Snape had been let in on all the enchantments, then he most likely knew how to get past them all… except for Hagrid's and Quirrell's, based on his previous encounter with Fluffy and the blackmail he was reserving for our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
"You're the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy, aren't you, Hagrid?" Harry asked, his eyebrows furrowed. "And you wouldn't tell anyone, would you? Not even one of the teachers?"
"Not a soul knows except for me and Dumbledore," Hagrid said proudly, his chest swelling a bit.
"Well, that's something, then," murmured Ron. He then glanced around the hut before inquiring, "Hagrid, can we open a window? I'm boiling in here."
He wasn't the only one—I had noticed the same thing. For some peculiar reason, Hagrid's hut was sweltering, but I had been ignoring my slight discomfort due to the engaging conversation.
"Can't, Ron, sorry," Hagrid said, glancing at the fire. The four of us looked at it too, to see what he was concerned about.
Oh.
"Hagrid…" Harry pointed at the fire. "What… is that?"
The quiver in his voice betrayed that he knew exactly what it was. In the heart of the roaring flame was a large black dragon egg.
"Ah," Hagrid began, "That's—um…"
"Where did you get it, Hagrid?" Ron asked, stooping down for a better look. An astonished look on his face, he whispered, "It must've cost you a fortune."
"Won it, actually," answered Hagrid. "Last 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 to be rid of it, ter be honest."
"What are you going to do with it when it's hatched?" asked Hermione.
"I've bin doing some readin'," Hagrid explained, searching for something. When he turned back to face us, I saw that there was a large book in his hands titled Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit.
"It's a bit outta date, o' course," Hagrid said, "but it's all in here. What I've got is a Norwegian Ridgeback. They're rare, them."
I looked around. There was barely enough room in the hut for Hagrid. Breathlessly, I told him, "Hagrid… you live in a wooden house. Something just doesn't work here."
But it was like I hadn't spoken. Hagrid simply turned back to stoking the fire, humming as he did so.
It was only two days later that Hagrid sent us the letter in the mail, the one we had been anticipating—It's Hatching.
While Ron was all for skipping Herbology to go and watch the dragon's birth, Hermione and I were not as sure, seeing as there was not much time left before finals…
"Hermione, Belle!" groaned Ron, his eyes flying skyward, "How many times in our lives are we going to see a dragon hatching?!"
"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—"
But I heard something… a shuffling of footsteps just around the corner. I shushed Hermione frantically as they emerged—and it was none other than Draco Malfoy, although this time he was accompanied by his sister Elizabeth. The six of us passed each other tensely, although the smirk on Elizabeth's face worried me immensely.
We were silent as the Malfoys moved past us towards the Great Hall. I knew my friends were all wondering the same question: if the Malfoys had heard us.
There was no more argument about when to visit Hagrid. We agreed to go immediately after Herbology during our break.
During class, I couldn't stop thinking about that damnable dragon. I was both horrified and curious about its hatching… it could get Hagrid into such immense trouble, but I also couldn't help but want to know more about it.
The moment we were released from class, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and I stuffed our supplies in our bag and more-or-less raced to Hagrid's hut on the edge of the woods. Our friend was waiting for our arrival there, a bright look on his face as he ushered us inside, saying, "It's nearly out."
As soon as we walked inside, the large black egg on the table shuddered and exploded. Out plopped a scaly dragon, breaking free of its restraints. The dragon stretched his wings—they were paper thin—and then sneezed, causing a few rogue sparks to simmer on the table.
The dragon looked at Hagrid and cawed.
"Bless him, look, he knows his mummy!"
Hagrid was practically glowing as he reached one finger out and scratched underneath the dragon's chin. The dragon's eyes closed lethargically and made a sound that was remarkably similar to a cat's purring.
"Hagrid," asked Hermione uneasily, "how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?"
Instead of answering, Hagrid leapt to his feet and raced to the window.
"What's the matter?" questioned Harry.
"Someone was lookin' through the gap in the curtains… they're kids, they're runnin' back up to the school…"
Harry and I both bolted to the door—
There was no mistaking the two heads of silver-blonde hair, even from so far away.
Immediately, we began to plead with Hagrid to let the dragon go. We tried to tell him there was nothing good that could come out of having a dragon in his hut, especially now that the Malfoys knew what was going on—
Hagrid, however, didn't seem to agree. A fretful, motherly look on his face, he continually replied, "I can't. He's too little, he'd die out there."
Eventually, he seemed to tire of our concerns, and went back to cooing at the dragon, whom he had named Norbert. The four of us exchanged worried and exasperated looks as Hagrid leaned over the dragon and exclaimed, "Norbert? Where's mommy?"
"He's losing his marbles," muttered Ron, eyes wide.
No matter what Harry, Ron, Hermione, or I said, nothing we could do convinced Hagrid that having an illegal dragon in a wooden house was a bad idea. Hagrid would bite his lip and say, "I know I can't keep him forever, but I can't jus' dump him, I can't."
Right before we were about to leave the hut, Harry whirled towards Ron and said, "Charlie."
Ron stared at him and replied, "You're losing it, too. I'm Ron, remember?"
"No, no! Your brother Charlie! In Romania, studying dragons—we could send Norbert to him. Charlie could take care of him and then put him back in the wild!"
After a brief debate, Hagrid eventually agreed to let us to send a letter to Charlie, asking if he would take the dragon.
Once Ron sent the letter, the rest of us waited anxiously for his reply.
The response couldn't come fast enough. Over the next few days, the four of us took turns helping Hagrid raise the dragon. It was no small task—oftentimes, Hagrid had to venture into the Forbidden Forest to hunt for the little creature, leaving us in charge of the babysitting. The dragon was growing quickly, too… before too long, it wouldn't be able to fit in the hut very comfortably.
To add to our stresses, the Malfoys were more sinister than ever, smirking at us whenever they possibly could. It was clear they relished holding this blackmail over our heads… and that they were going to milk it for all it was worth.
Finally, after a week, Hedwig returned with Charlie's answer. Ron couldn't open the letter since his hand was swollen and wrapped in a bandage due to the dragon biting him, so Harry opened it instead and softly read it aloud:
"Dear Ron. How are you? Thanks for the 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 this 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."
Harry sighed. "I've got the Invisibility Cloak. It shouldn't be too difficult—I think it'll be big enough to carry us and Norbert."
Thus, after a quick conference with Hagrid, it was decided. Norbert would be sent away, along with any dirt the Malfoys had on us.
Were things only so easy.
The next morning, Ron was forced to go to the hospital wing, seeing as his hand was much too swollen to conceal… not to mention it was beginning to turn a sickly green color.
We wasted no time in visiting him, but it looked like we weren't the first ones to do so. The minute we showed our faces, Ron began darkly muttering about how the Malfoys had come to the hospital wing, telling Madam Pomfrey that they needed to borrow one of his books. In reality, however, they had come to laugh at him.
"It's all right, Ron, it'll all be over at midnight on Saturday," soothed Hermione, but this had the opposite effect. Instead of calming Ron down, he turned pale and clammy.
"Oh no, oh no, I've just remembered! Charlie's letter was in the book the Malfoys took! They're going to know we're getting rid of Norbert…"
Almost sensing Ron's change of mood, Madam Pomfrey flew over and shooed us out before we could say more.
Even though we knew our mission could be jeopardized, there was nothing else for it. We had to go through with the plan, because there wasn't time to send another letter. It had to be done, Malfoys interfering or not.
And so it was on Saturday night that Harry, Hermione, and I all escaped the Gryffindor common room underneath the Invisibility Cloak. We met Hagrid at his hut late at night, where he was awaiting us with Norbert already packed up and ready to go.
"He's got lots o' rats and some brandy fer the journey," sniffled our friend. I felt rather sorry for him… I remembered a dragon was what he had always wanted. "An' I've packed his teddy bear in case he gets lonely."
I placed a hand on Hagrid's arm, and together, the three of us ushered Norbert's cage underneath the cloak. He blew his nose and waved farewell, exclaiming, "Bye-bye, Norbert! Mummy will never forget you!" as we began to walk away.
It took time and effort to escort Norbert to the Astronomy Tower. He was no longer a tiny glob, and the cage was less than light as well.
With the corridor we needed in sight, Harry hissed, "Nearly there!"
No sooner had he said this than we saw a flash of light and a furious voice screech, "Detention!"
It was Professor McGonagall's voice—we slumped against the wall, watching bemusedly as our Head of House escorted both Draco and Elizabeth Malfoy past us, her nostrils flared and a fire in her eyes.
"And fifty points from Slytherin—each! Wandering around in the middle of the night, how dare you—"
"You don't understand, Professor!" pleaded Draco. "Harry Potter's coming!"
"And he's got a dragon!" hiccupped Elizabeth, but their cries only seemed to make Professor McGonagall angrier.
"What utter rubbish! How dare you tell such lies! Come on—I shall see Professor Snape about you two!"
When at last the trio was gone and the lamp's light had faded entirely, we threw the Invisibility Cloak away from ourselves. Harry and Hermione exchanged gleeful looks about the fortunate turn of events.
"The Malfoys have detention! Oh, I could sing!" gasped Hermione.
"Don't," said Harry—and then together, we ascended the long set of spiral stairs until we were at the very top.
When we arrived, we were already able to see four figures on broomsticks approaching the Tower. Charlie's friends saw us and waved as they arrived, quickly showing us the harness they would strap Norbert into so that way they could bring him back to Romania.
It was a bit of work, making the dragon fit in his new harness, but eventually we succeeded. With a final farewell and a fair amount of thanks, our new friends flew off. We watched them go until they were nothing but a speck in the sky… and admittedly, once they were gone, it felt like a tangible weight had been lifted from our shoulders.
Feeling like we had nothing to worry about now, we made it all the way downstairs—
Only to find Filch waiting for us, because like idiots, we'd left the Cloak on top of the Tower.