If you're reading this, much love.
ENJOI
...
The commotion from the Mrs. Norris incident took a week to die down. "Shaved pussy" jokes spread like wildfire, and even the Slytherins were congratulating Fred and George for "their" achievement. James, Harry noted curiously, was more than glad to have someone else take the credit. George, too, was more than happy to take the blame in his stead; as soon as his twin revealed the "secret ingredient" to the whole plan, he took no shame in bragging that he was a part of the plan while the PranKings backed into the shadows, true to their decree that "the best pranks are the ones you get away with."
Filch vowed to catch and punish who ever had befouled his cat, and he knew that the Weasleys were behind it, but without proof, he had nothing. James was never suspected, and Harry knew his twin preferred it that way. James feared Filch as much as he hated him, and so long as he was forgotten, he was able to conspire without fear. James liked to pull pranks for the fun of getting away with it, not for the reaction.
"You know me too well," James had cracked when Harry brought it up. "We need to stop spending so much time together, next thing you know, you'll know my potty schedule."
Harry didn't see much of James, Travis, and Brian after that. He and his Ravenclaw mates sort of disappeared, and when asked, they claimed to have been "working on a potion recipe." It seemed like he didn't have much plans for a next prank, otherwise he would have been poking Harry for ideas.
"Harry."
He had, however, taken something akin to support of Quirrell. All of them had, in a way. Harry would shoot him supportive grins. Ron stood up for him in front of a gang of teasing Slytherins. James stopped muttering how he wished he had a better teacher, and Travis and Brian even thanked him for being an "upstanding teacher" in front of the entire class. Quirrell, who seemed to have gotten thinner and thinner and paler and paler, couldn't speak properly for an hour afterwards.
"Harry."
Any enemy of Snape was a friend of his, Harry had decided.
"Harry."
Ron's prediction of the man's backbone had not been quite as true. Tuesday had come and gone, and Snape was as angry as ever. That meant that the Stone was safe and sound, and Fluffy had not been dispatched…
"Harry!" Hermione slapped his arm.
"What, Hermione?"
"You need to stop day dreaming!" Hermione insisted. She shoved him his potions book and pointed at something she had highlighted. "The final exams are not that far away!"
"Ten weeks," Ron reminded her weakly. "That's ages away."
"No, that's less than three months. It's like a second to Nicolas Flamel."
"Nicolas," James Dean corrected her from behind a shelf of books. "Nick-oh-lah. You know, because he's French. Honestly, girl, I thought you were smart?"
Hermione's tactful reply was cut short as James turned and walked away, a pile of potions-related books folded in his arms up to his chin.
"Yeah, and we're not six hundred years old, now, are we?" Ron pushed. "Why are you studying, anyway? You already know it all."
"Are you insane," Hermione hissed, dropping her head. "Do you realize that we need to pass these tests to get into second year? I should have started studying ages ago. I have no idea what's gotten into me!"
"Nicolas Flamel?" Brian piped up helpfully as he walked by, reading from the Potions Ingredients Encyclopedia. "He has taken up quite a bit of our time."
"Oh, go back to your mates!"
"Okay, okay, jeez…"
The teachers had gotten the same idea as Hermione, and had piled on so much homework that Harry had little free time between studying and Quidditch practice. The Easter holidays had been nowhere near as interesting as Christmas, as they had spent all of their time in the library or in the common room, imitating Hermione on a slow, easy day. It was hard to relax when there was a new essay due every day, and one couldn't just cheat off his genius brother's work.
"I'm never gonna remember all of this!" Ron exploded minutes later, shoving his quill into a bottle of ink.
Harry rolled his eyes and didn't bother looking up from his definition of Dittany until Ron cried, "Hagrid! What are you doing here?"
Hagrid shuffled up from his secluded section with something behind his back. "Jus' lookin'," Hagrid growled defensively, looking suspicious. "An' what're you lot up ter? Still not looking for Flamel, are yeh?"
"Oh no," Travis answered happily as he trundled passed with a stack of potions manuals from a nearby shelf. "We already found him out. We're working on a little side project, now. And we know that that pooch is guarding the Philos-"
"Shh!" Hagrid shushed angrily. Travis gave Hagrid an mock grimacing look and stalked back to his Ravenclaw study group.
"Shh!" the tall black boy insulted under his breath.
"Don't go about shoutin' it off to everyone yer hear. What's the matter with yeh?"
"Well, we actually wanted to talk to you about that," Harry perked up, speaking cheerfully. "About what else is guarding it other than Fluffy-"
"SHHHH!" Hagrid waved in frustration. "Listen, you three- just you three-" he shot a wary look at James Dean's table. "Come down to meh hut later on, and we'll talk abou' it. I'm not sayin' I'm sayin' nuttin', o' course, but don' go 'round spoutin' off abou' it, alrigh'?"
"See you later, then."
"What was he hiding behind his back?" Hermione asked thoughtfully.
"Dragons," Michael Corner answered as he put a dusty Dark Arts Defensive Spells book back on a shelf, not looking up as he pulled yet another book about potions. "He was in the Magical Animals: Dragons section."
"Are all the Ravenclaws helping James with his project?" Ron asked incredulously.
"Uh, no? I have research to do for my essay."
"Thank you, Michael," Hermione said, giving Ron a stern look.
"Hagrid always did say he wanted a dragon," Harry shrugged nonchalantly.
"But it's against our laws," Ron said. "Dragons are dangerous, that's why their breeding is illegal. My brother Charlie has some wicked burns from some of the ones he works with, and they're tame."
"Aren't there dragons in Britain, though?" Hermione asked, looking intrigued. Ron looked pleased that he was telling her something for a change.
"Yeah, the Welsh Green and the Hebridean Black. But they cause trouble for the Ministry, a downright mess, I tell you. Always having to obliviate muggles who have seen or were hurt by them."
"So then what in Merlin's name is Hagrid up to?"
...
No more than an hour later, the three were making their way down to Hagrid's hut. The sky was crystal clear, and the temperature was just perfect. A cool breeze flitted past and tussled Harry's wild, tameless hair cheerily. The grass was just starting to return to a healthy, green color. Owls were coming and going easily, riding currents and thermals with joy.
Hagrid's hut was shut out, however. The door was locked, and the windows had curtains closed around them. When they knocked, Hagrid bellowed cautiously, "Who is it?" and then covertly slammed the door closed behind them as soon as he'd let them in.
"Hagrid, what is going on?" Ron asked.
The air inside the hut was hot and stuffy. Despite the fact that it was warm enough outside, a fire crackled heavily in the hearth, and a black oval orb perched atop it. Hagrid ignored Ron and offered them tea and a light lunch.
"So- yeh wanted to ask me something?"
"Yes," Harry said. "We were wondering what else was guarding the Philosopher's Stone other than Fluffy."
Hagrid stared at Harry angrily. "Yeh know better than to ask meh that. Yeh know I can't answer tha'. Couldn't tell yeh even if I knew. Which I don'. That Stone is here fer a reason, you three, and it was almost stolen outta Gringotts. I s'pose yeh worked that out, too."
"James was a little skeptical about it," Harry affirmed. "But I figured it had something to do with it."
"Then yeh know-"
"Quit telling us what we know," Ron interrupted. "We know what it is, what it does, and what has happened because of it all the way up to now. We want to know what is going to happen to it in the future, what is keeping it from getting stolen."
"I told yeh, I don't know nuthin'," Hagrid replied.
"C'mon, Hagrid," Hermione said flatteringly. "We're just wondering what is guarding it. We would like to know who else is doing the guarding, who Dumbledore trusts. You are obviously one of them."
Hagrid grinned nicely, embarrassed. His chest swelled with pride, and Harry knew that Hermione's sweet talking had hit the spot. "Well, tha's true. He does trust me… well, I guess it wouldn't hurt to tell yeh who is working on it, just no tellin'!"
The three nodded their heads quickly in agreement. Hagrid sat forward on his seat and conspiratorially explained it to them. "Well, there's Dumbledore himself, o' course. And then some of the other teacher's done some enchantments-Professor McGonagall, Flitwick… Sprout- er… Quirrell did some anti-Dark Arts curses, o' course. And then Dumbledore himself, again. I'm fergettin' somebody… oh, and Snape. Some potions work, I guess."
"Snape?" the three chorused in shock.
"Aye, Snape. Yeh still not up on tha', are yeh?"
"Yeah, we are," Ron shot back.
"If I dun know better, I'd say yeh three are up ter no good," Hagrid accused.
"Nothing," Hermione answered. "But Snape is."
James, had he been there, would have shot Hermione's accusation down where it stood, and Hagrid did, as well. "Yeh listen here, what would Snape want wi' the Stone? He's a Hogwarts teacher, Dumbledore trusts him, and he helped pu' up defenses for it. Why would he break tha'?"
"Because he's tried to get past Fluffy, kill Harry, and has threatened Quirrell," Hermione explained. When Hagrid acted incredulous to their accusations, they explained everything that had happened. Snape's bloody leg, his cursing Harry's broom, and the tryst into the Forbidden Forest with Quirrell.
Hagrid was unconvinced. "Snape is a teacher," he insisted, although a little foolishly.
"Look," Ron interjected. "Forget about it. Just promise us only you and Dumbledore are the ones who know how to get past Fluffy."
Hagrid put his hand to his chest in pride. "I swear ter it."
"Okay, good," Harry said. He pulled his collar down and fanned his face. "Can we open a window? It's pretty stale in here."
"Sorry, Harry, can't," Hagrid declined as he pointed a loving glance at the fire.
"Hargid, is that-"Ron started, but stopped. "No, Hagrid, no!"
"Yes, Ron, yes!" Hagrid grinned.
"Where'd you get it?"
"Won it in a game o' cards," Hagrid explained. "With a bloke down at the pub, last night. He seemed quite happy ter get rid o' it, I tell yeh. All but thanked me, he did."
"Uh… what is it?" Hermione asked.
"It's a dragon egg," Ron snorted. "Dangerous…"
"A Norwegian Ridgeback, ter be precise. I been doin' some readin' on it, and it's a Norwegian Ridgeback. Gotta keep it warm, yeh see, 'cause their mummies breathe on 'em, see. And you got ter cover 'em in chicken blood mixed with brandy, ter feed 'em. Pretty rare breed, Ridgebacks."
"Dragons are rare period," Hermione breathed, looking at egg in awe. "When will it hatch?"
"Oh, not too long, now. It's already moving around a bit, see?"
The egg shifted slightly in the grate, and the embers popped as it did.
"Hagrid," Harry spoke up when he realized something. "You live in a wooden hut."
Hagrid ignored him. He simply hummed merrily and stoked the fire, love in his eyes.
"You're going to get yourself killed!"
…
James, Travis, and Brian exited the Ravenclaw common and with a fist bump, went in opposite directions. James was headed to Gryffindor's tower to ask Harry for the Invisibility Cloak, as he, Travis and Brian were now knee deep in making Snape's replication potion in an abandoned laboratory in the dungeons, and tonight were planning on being there late to work on it.
"Oh, uh… hi James." Kiara Kennedy spoke up as he walked past. She curled up in a sitting fetal position on a window sill, her knees tucked to her chest. She turned her blue-eyed gaze from the door to James, looking on the verge of tears. James could tell that they were a mixture of anger, frustration, and sadness. But why was she always so… sad all the time?
"Hey, Kiara," he greeted with a grin. "What's up? You've been avoiding us lately."
"I uh," she started, looking embarrassed. "I had a hard Christmas.. and now I couldn't solve the riddle to open the door."
"Oh. Well, what was the riddle?"
"'There's an ancient invention that is still used today to see through walls. What is it?'"
"Um, Kiara…"
The girl looked at James a little hurt. "I know it is simple! I just can't figure it out, okay! This natty door is just so- So…"
"Frustrating?"
"Yes."
"Want the answer?"
"I'll figure it out, thanks."
"You want a hint?"
"A hint would help the girl out," the Eagle Knocker stated monotonously.
"Shut yer trap, ye clatty bird!"
"Well, you are sitting on it," James mentioned with a helpful grin.
"Sitting on it? How's that supposed to help me out?"
"Think about it, since you don't want the answer. Anyway, I gotta go, I'll… see you around?"
"Get going."
"Okay…"
...
Kiara watched James as he retreated down the corridor. His short form quickly became a dot and the last thing she saw of him was his dark, shaggy black hair.
"Thanks for the help, mate," she muttered to his disappearing form.
She really felt bad. He and his friends had defended her from Malfoy, tutored her, helped her, and went out of their way to befriend the lonely girl. And she even managed to forget about her father long enough that she actually felt comfortable around them... until she went home for the Holidays. Her father knew she'd gotten close to "the Potter brats," and he'd punished her heavily for it.
She trembled as she traced the fading bruises on her arms. She had this fanciful fantasy that he, Travis, Brian and Harry had found her at home home and saved her from her father. Wiped her tears away, promised her everything was fine, that the world wasn't so bad, maybe moved in...
She struck that flight of fancy out of her mind.
It wasn't like he had anything for her; he was just nice to her because he occasionally ran into her, she scolded herself. He never saw her when he walked down the corridors, or in the common room. He hadn't even seen her now when he left until she opened her big mouth.
She sighed. It seemed like the only time anyone noticed her was when she needed to be saved. Not exactly the best thing to base a friendship on, where the only interaction that happened was during life-or-death situations.
She didn't need him as a friend anyway. If her father knew that she had been saved by him more than once… she cringed at the thought.
She snarled quietly and stood up. She kicked the wall and looked out of the window. "What age-old invention allows people to see through walls…?"
"Is it really that hard?" the Knocker asked, and Kiara could have sworn that despite its bored, neutral tone, it sounded indignant.
"Shut up!"
"Very well…"
Kiara rested her head on the window. "What was I sitting on? The window? How the bloody hell does that help? Wait. I was sitting on the window sill…"
"And she almost has it."
"Silence, you. I was sitting on… a window."
"That is correct."
"I know its correct! But that doesn't exactly answer my-"
"...Yes?"
"My answer is window."
"Is that your-"
"Don't play games with me, ye clatty bird! Open the door!"
...
'We gotta tell James," Ron stated when they crawled into the common room.
"No, do not tell James," Harry put his foot down. "Or anybody, for that matter."
"Why?"
"Because Travis will jump for joy and ask to ride it, Brian would demand to touch it, and James Dean would all but steal it from Hagrid just to study it. For all they know, Hagrid has a cold. You hear?"
Ron shook his head. "I don't think James would be that immature."
"James may have the maturity of a guy twice his age, but he doesn't use it when it suits him. He'd think flying on a dragon would be a step up from a broom, considering where he grew up."
"Where did he grow up?" Hermione asked. "He does have an American accent, and I was wondering why he and the other two had one, but I thought it crass to ask."
"New York City, in an orphanage. Don't mention it, he hated it there."
"James hated what where now?"
"Oh- James!" Hermione giggled nervously. "What are you doing here?"
James jumped down from the stairwell to the dormitories and grinned. "Been waiting for you guys. Anyway, what are talking about me for?"
"I… told them about your… past."
"You say that like I killed someone, Hare," James laughed and socked Harry on the arm. "Yeah, I hated it, and no, don't ask me to talk in detail about it, but it was what it was, right?"
"Yeah…"
"And what didn't you want them to tell me about Hagrid? I know he doesn't have a cold, he was in the library. Seriously, you need to work on your lying skills."
"He…"
Ron coughed uncomfortably. "He has a dragon."
"Gah! He has a what?!"
"A dragon," Hermione whispered, looking around. "He won a dragon egg from some stranger at a pub last night, and… well…"
"He wants to keep it."
Hermione nodded. James looked between the three of them, dumbstruck. "Tell Dumbledore."
"We can't! Hagrid will get in trouble!"
"So will you if Hagrid is found out. We all will, because it is widely known that Hagrid is close to all of us, and we will be questioned, just like him. If we all tell Dumbledore, then he will help, not punish."
"And how do you know the old coot just won't go insane on Hagrid, and fire him or something?" Ron asked angrily. "Dumbledore would get pissed."
James sighed and shook his head. "If you insist. Look, me and the boys are busy trying to get Kiara back outta her shell, on top of our own secret project. We don't have time for this," he looked to Harry and grimaced. "I hate to say this, but you're on your own. Remember my rules, keep your mouths shut around people you don't to hear about it, and stay frosty."
"We will," Harry promised, holding his hand up. James clasped it in his, and drew Harry into a one arm, double-back tap bro hug.
"Good," James muttered. "Think we can borrow the Cloak for tonight? The boys and I are going to be in the dungeons late tonight.
"Sure, Harry said as he bolted into the Common Room. He came back a few minutes later, the invisibility cloak wrapped in an old jumper.
James took it and folded it under his arm before stuffing his hands in his pockets. Adopting his usual slouched stance before looking around again, he leveled Harry with a final stare and a nod. "Don't mess this up."
…
"What are the rules?" Ron asked later that night.
"Oh, James's rules for breaking the rules," Harry answered, as if that explained everything. Ron and Hermione were now staring at him instead of their Charms essays, so he he laughed.
"James, Travis, and Brian have a list of rules for getting in and out of trouble unscathed. They treat them like they're biblical. Stuff like, 'Always pay attention,' 'make as little noise as possible,' 'always carry a knife,' 'never speak when around people you don't want to hear,' that sort of thing."
Hermione scoffed. "No wonder they get in and out of trouble so easily. They wrote an entire list of commandments on breaking the law."
"Rules," Harry corrected.
"Laws are rules, Harry," she pointed out.
…
James shucked the invisibility cloak off their shoulders as Brian closed the door to the abandoned potions lab. It had been a while since the room in the dungeons had been used, as it was covered in a thick layer of mold and dust. They had done all the research on all the ingridients, memorized Snape's recipe, and had doublechecked every ounce of information to ensure the safety of solution they were brewing. Despite the mess of the lab, they were not deterred, because for once, they were going to be working on something big, together. It felt...
Euphoric.
With a flick of his wand, James cleared the fine layer of dust settling over the lab equipment. Brian scrubbed the cauldron while Travis rinsed out the glass equipment under cool water. James Dean refilled the oil in the ancient burners after clearing them, and they settled in for a night of work. Preparing his ingredients, Travis set about crushing Doxy wings, while Brian idly hummed to himself a Danzig tune while stirring the cauldron of bubbling potion base. James truly wished he had the capacity to play some music; alas, a Walkman or cassette player wouldn't work on Hogwarts grounds, as magical energy would fizzle any electronics out. He considered, for a moment, if he could create an enchantment or spell that would protect such a device...
Travis dropped the wings into the water, and Brian cranked the burner beneath the cauldron and moved on to humming Motorhead. Lighting a Bunsen burner, James prepared a glass flask and filled it with cool, slightly viscous newt blood. Dropping in a few drops of acid to help stop it from coagulating, he moved on to prepare some shrivelfigs. Peeling the skin to expose the flowers within, he used the side of a large, high bladed knife to smash the purple fluids out. Holding his cutting board up, he drained the purple fluid into the flask with the blood, holding the blossoms against the board with the knife.
Tired of reciting the Ace of Spades, James Dean hummed over Brian with the "Ba-dum-dumming" of Should I Stay or Should I Go. Popping a bicorn horn out of a vial, Travis set it and a pinch of beetle eyes into a mortar and pestle. Grinding away, he bopped his back and forth while quietly mouthing the lyrics to the song. When satisfied the horn was powdered and integrated with the eyes, he handed it to James, who dumped the powder into the cauldron. Brian begun stirring, slowly and consistently.
As he begun swaying to the tune of Brass Monkey, James slowly poured the contents of the flask in, stirring slowly all the while. The mixture took on a lavender hue, as far as James could tell in the dim light. Smiling softly, Brian turned the heat up slightly. Brian found a corner, Travis took first watch, and James moved to the edge of the lab, propping himself against a corner to nap, and wait for it to bubble appropriately.
…
The following week was torture. Between worrying about Hagrid, having stacks of homework to get through, and their Ravenclaw compatriots being absent, the Gryffindor common room felt quiet and boring. They took what little free time they had helping Hagrid while begging him to give the egg away. Hagrid just ignored them and went on about his business, humming happily.
Hagrid had gone a bit overboard with the whole "going to be a dragon's mummy" bit. He had begun sewing and knitting little dragon sweaters and booties with holes for claws, and the one time James Dean had come down to visit, he had laughed himself off his seat when Hagrid showed off the reusuable dragon nappie he had created.
They were at breakfast when Hedwig, fighting with James's 'Owl,' flew to the Gryffindor table with post. It was a simple, one sentence note that just read, 'Its hatching!' Ron wanted to skip Herbology to see it, Hermione wanted to go to class and wish this whole crisis had never even started, and Harry wanted to throw up.
"Seriously, Hermione, how many times are we going to get to see a dragon hatch?" Ron asked as she vehemently led them to class.
"We've got lessons, Ron," she scolded him. "We'll get into trouble which is nothing compared to what Hagrid will be in if-"
"Shut up!" Harry hissed. Draco Malfoy had stopped, dead in his tracks, with a huge, goofy smile on his face as he stared at them. Harry didn't know how much Malfoy had heard, but he didn't like it.
It wasn't until after Herbology that he could track his twin down, but when he did, he cornered James in an alcove, made sure the coast was clear, and explained.
"I need your help," Harry started, looking up and down the hall nervously.
James slouched against the wall and grinned, with his hands in his pockets and not a worry in the world. "Whatever can I do for you, brother of mine?"
"Ron and Hermione broke rule number seven," Harry insisted.
James frowned and cocked his eyebrow. "Haven't you explained to them the rules and what they're for?"
Harry bobbed his head side to side noncommittally. "More or less."
James Dean rolled his eyes and threw his hands up. "So less! Great, next thing ya gonna tell me is that Malfoy knows about the dragon."
Harry grimaced. James scowled.
"He knows about the dragon, doesn't he?"
…
Six children watched in various states of silent horror as the half giant Hagrid giggled with glee as the egg cracked and rattled around on table. Harry could her James's sharp, short, nervous breaths as Hermione's fingers dug into his and Ron's arms. The egg jolted, making them all jump. It clattered around in a circle around the table before bursting open, a bright, forest green baby dragon covered in slime and egg shell fragments yawned and looked up at Hagrid. It sneezed and a jet of sparks flew out, catching his beard on fire.
"Oh, he already knows his mummy!" Hagrid declared joyously, blinking tears out of his eyes as he patted down the fire in his facial hair. He picked the little fanged beast up and cuddled it like a baby and it curled into his arms, happy for the warmth.
"That is the most frightening thing I have ever freaking seen," Brian whispered, watching in fascinated terror as Hagrid rocked and cooed the baby dragon.
"Check," James agreed, mortified at how enamored Hagrid was with the creature.
"Oh, isn't he beautiful?" Hagrid smiled as he looked up at them expectantly.
James gave a forced, gritted teeth smile, Travis shot reluctant finger guns at him, Brian continued staring at the dragon with trepidation, Hermione copied James, Ron was taking notes, and Harry gave half hearted thumbs up.
"I knew yeh's'd come 'round," Hagrid simpered as he blew little kisses on the dragon's head. "Think I'll name him Norbert, I will!"
"How do you even know its a boy," Brian droned neutrally, eyes never leaving the dragon.
"Hermione," James asked. "How fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow?"
"I dunno," she replied.
"Oh, they grow 'bou-" Hagrid started to answer when the color drained from his face. James and Harry both bolted to the window to see the platinum blonde-headed figure of Draco Malfoy running away at full tilt.
"That isn't good," Harry murmured.
"Nope, no, not at all," James agreed.
…
The next week was even more torturous. Malfoy had a stupid grin on his face, but from the way Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson hassled him, he hadn't told anyone yet.
Yet.
James, Travis, and Brian were finishing their littler potion's experiment, leaving Harry, Hermione, and Ron on their own to figure out what to do. Meanwhile, Norbert had grown three times the size. Smoke was coming out of his nostrils, and Hagrid had to keep putting out fires in his hut to keep it from burning down. He hadn't been seen in the Great Hall in days, staff were getting worried, and he hadn't done his job as gamekeeper as he spent the whole time nursing Norbert with chicken's blood and brandy.
The school was running short on chickens, concurrently, leading to staff meetings about the sudden decrease in the school's chicken population, which was also tied to egg production, which directly led to Ron being annoyed about a lack of breakfast production. Things were getting fishy, and Harry knew it. He was miffed that James just washed his hands of it and said, "Well, you'll have to deal with it," since it felt like he was just leaving Hagrid to his fate.
"Hagrid's a big boy," James told him.
Excerpt Hagrid wasn't acting like it. He was head over heels in love with the winged lizard demon that was eating him out of house, home, chicken, alcohol stores, and wallet. He seemed so happily oblivious to the Malfoy issue Harry and Hermione had to drag James down to the hut, one last time, to convince him to get rid of it.
"Set it free, Hagrid," James ordered.
"I can' do tha'!" Hagrid yelled at him. "He's still a baby!"
James quirked an eyebrow and looked down at the six foot long winged lizard. "I wouldn't go that far. He's... early teens at best. Looking fit to begin flying lessons any day now! When are you taking him to the DMV for his license?"
"I know I can' keep him forever," Hagrid almost sobbed. "Bu' I can' jus' dump him!"
"Or her," James said out of the side of his mouth. "We don't know yet. Look, if you can't dump it, maybe we can find a better solution. Do you know any dragon keepers?"
"I do!" Ron declared enthusiastically as he stood, startling Norbert. "My brother Charlie-" Norbert surged forth and sank its fangs into the palm of Ron's right hand, making him shriek. "Agheek! He bloody bit me!"
James hissed through his teeth. "Yeah, that looks painful... but yeah, that might work. Been doing some research whenever I wasn't busy, by the way... turns out Ridgeback bites are poisonous. Write up Charlie, use either Owl or Hedwig. Me and the boys will whip you up an antidote, and-"
He whipped around to Harry and Hermione. "Leave the extrication to us. Knowing you all, you'd break rule number seven again and be set up by Malfoy and get caught by McGonagall... or worse."
…
Ron's letter to Charlie was answered quickly. He had some coworkers who were in the UK on holiday who agreed to stealthily pick Norbert(a) up. James, Travis, and Brian had Ron set up the pickup spot to be on the far shore of the Black Lake, but then, as an added joke to get Malfoy in trouble, mentioned in his presence the drop off point was in the tallest tower.
Ron could barely even write with his hands by the time they were done. James and Travis, with some help from Hermione, were able to whip up a halfway decent antidote based off a healing potion and a bsic antidote potion they'd learned in class, and he managed to stay out of the medical wing. He was still out of commission for anything strenuous, though, so he was stuck with going to bed early the night James, Travis and Brian were to meet up with Charlie's boys.
James and Travis had decided that it was best to be... tactical, in this situation. They were dressed in all black, with hoods and cloth masks covering their faces as they raided the broom shed for a trio of comets. Brian was on overwatch, and as such, took his broom, the spotting scope, a pair of binoculars, and a high decibel, low tone whistle for communication and found himself a niche on the top of the astronomy tower.
James and Travis took off for Hagrid's, and when they landed, the poor man was saying his weeping goodbyes to his pet dragon. Fang chuffed and whimpered at them, staying well away from the dragon and protecting his bandaged, inflamed tail.
"Aww," Travis tutted as he scratched Fang on the head. "Poor buddy. Don't worry, we'll have that thing outta your fur soon."
James, meanwhile, patted Hagrid on the back- er, waist, as that was as far as he could reach. Hagrid sobbed and cried as he filled the handwoven, fireproof crate Norbert was nestled in.
"He's got load's a rats an' brandy for the trip," Hagrid bellowed as he blew his teary, snotty nose.
James and Travis buckled the crate, which, per James instruction, came with a secured under saddle for attaching to brooms with stability. Hagrid walked forward and patted the top of the crate mournfully.
"Bye bye, Norbert," he wept. "I put your teddy bear in there, it'll keep you warm for the trip!"
The sounds of tearing from the crate told them all they needed to know about what Norbert was doing to that poor bear.
"Mummy will never forget you!" Hagrid sniffed as James flung the cloak over him, Travis, and Norbert.
It barely managed to hide them, but if they kept low and flew slow, they'd be fine. James and Travis nodded and kicked off. The crate was heavy, and the brooms protested, but they kept them under control as they elevated to about twenty feet and sloped off to fly over the Black Lake.
The flight took a bit longer than anticipated, but they got there in time. They laughed and shook hands with Charlie's friends, who were cheery guys. They swapped a few stories, shook hands again, and with a dust off, they were carrying Norbert(a) away to Romania.
James produced a whistle of his own, and faced the direction Brian was in. With three short, sharp blows, Brian was informed that their mission was a success, and a few seconds later, four sharp whistles responded his understanding. James and Travis took off. They all met at the Broom Shed, deposited their commandeered brooms, and under the cover of the cloak, made for home. By one in the morning, they were snoozing, happily snoring, in their silky blue and bronze sheets in Ravenclaw Tower.