I've been getting this question quite a bit lately, so I'll mention it here in case someone else has the same concern. A reader mentioned wondering about what happened to "Ron asking Ginny about the Lovegoods" bit, and said that maybe I forgot about it. Short answer: I didn't.
Long answer: In stories, there are things called set-ups and pay-offs, and in a story as long as TBA (like in the HP books), I can have the pay-offs come up from shortly to long after (as in books later) their setups were introduced.
Example, Ron getting his custom wand was set-up in Year One, Chap 10 (Y1. C.10) and wasn't mentioned again until this chapter (Y.1, C.14). More examples include Snape's Ron-inheriting something-from-the-Prewetts line (Y0, C3) and the long running problem with Charlie's old wand (since Y.1, C.2)
Point is, depending on the way the story is planned, you will encounter several of these set-ups that don't get explored or resolved again until later, as is the nature of writing a story where there is a lot of B- and even C-plots happening: Harry yelling at Hermione last Halloween, Bill and Charlie finding out about the troll, what happened with the Lovegoods, and the secret Ron told Ginny in exchange for her silence regarding Pettigrew, among some others. Honestly, I would be impressed if you remembered all of it.
However, I can understand why it can be confusing for some when plot points are seemingly brought up then suddenly left hanging, so I appreciate it when people point these out in concern that I may have forgotten. As of now, I can assure you I haven't forgotten anything, but feel free to let me know in case you think I did. Who knows, right?
Plus, now I know that I have very attentive readers, so that makes me really happy. Thanks, AzureAlquimista and general-thinks!
And another review from Guest! Whoopee! If this is the same Guest as before, you really need to have a better name. *winks* But thanks for letting me know that it was Remus who said that about Hermione, because unlike her, I can't remember all the lines from all seven books. Is that line as iconic as Dumbledore's "To the well-organized mind, death but is the next great adventure," (I have the Scholastic Press First Edition version of PS/SS, in case it's written in a different way in the Bloomsbury one) that I have to retain it word for word? Let me know so I can see if it should be changed.
That said, I prefer "brightest" over "cleverest", and "her age" over "her generation." Because synonyms are a thing. I know, amazing, right? :)
Lastly, pardon my French. You'll know what I mean. And major thanks again to my hard-working beta, ac nelli!
Chapter 14:
Hatch and Flight
The beginning of the rainy season also marked the start of the exam period, at least if one would ask Hermione Granger. She was especially frantic in making sure that all her notes were organized and colour coded, her schedules in proper order, and her homework completed and reviewed at least three times.
"But exams are ages away!" Neville told her once.
"You mean four months away!" Hermione snapped. "That's like a second before Nicholas Flamel!"
"We're nowhere near six hundred years old, Hermione." Ron said dryly. "Besides, why are you driving everyone barmy over all this stuff you could recite in your sleep?"
The girl's brown eyes flared. "We cannot afford to be complacent, Ron! The upcoming exams are very important for our progression to second year. I don't know why I didn't study all this earlier! I don't know what has gotten into me!"
"Relax. I'm not saying you shouldn't study. I'm saying that you ought not to burn yourself out. Give yourself a little break every once in a while." Then Ron took the book out of her hands, much to the girl's protest. "And for Merlin's sake, eat properly! It's not like Goshawk will be going anywhere anyway!"
"You give me back my book right now, Ronald—"
But Harry cut her off by plopping a couple of French toasts on Hermione's plate. "It's a lost cause, Hermione. At least, until you clear your plate. That's how he is with me before every match, remember?"
Ron mock glared at his best mate, but at least he got Hermione to focus on finishing her breakfast again. Although Ron knew that Harry's intervention was in part also due to him wanting to spare everyone's ears from Hermione's tireless recitation of the standard list of First Year spells for the tenth or so time.
Not that Ron blamed him, really.
During pre-exam period (even if said exams were months away), Hermione would always be a frazzled mess, fretting over every minute detail of their classes, to the point that everyone around her felt her stress in some way. But what Harry didn't know was that she was marginally easier to deal with this time around, something Ron thought he could attribute to Sue's influence. While the petite Ravenclaw had proven herself capable of being Hermione's intellectual equal, she was also more relaxed, in a way that while she loves to study, she takes it in stride and doesn't make it look as overwhelming as Hermione, unfortunately, tended to.
She claimed that the keys are prioritizing and not being too hard on oneself while learning.
"Relax, Hermione. I'm sure you've already out studied nearly everyone in our year, and it's only February," reasoned Sue during one of their breaks in the Arithmancy study club.
"But—but what if I forget something? I have to keep reviewing, or else—"
"You know, if you constantly study about something, you'll eventually commit it to long term memory, right?" Sue then perked up. "I've got it! Let's try making associations with our topics. Association improves memory, and it'll be fun too!"
"Association? How?"
"Let's try it with the twelve uses for dragon's blood—"
Ron really admired how Sue can make learning about something as mundane as dragon's blood to be actually pretty fun. He had to admit, her "let's go to a trip to the bakeshop" example helped imprint the subject better on his memory.
(Although he'll probably never look at a loaf of bread again and not remember that dragon's blood can be used as an oven cleaner.)
Of course, Hermione just had to create these amazing leaps of connections among their courses in a way that Ron knew his brain could never catch up to, but it was all right if she was obviously enjoying herself.
Neville, on the other hand, was steadily improving in Potions. Harry mentioned that he was less prone to fumbling about during Potions classes, and was actually mentioning information about the Potion ingredients and anything else Neville learned during the Potions study club. Neville had been especially ecstatic when he and Harry received their first EE grade for their Strength Potion, much so in fact that he happily shared the news to Imhotep without prompting. It made Ron happy, in turn, that Neville's confidence was growing as well. The sooner the self-assured Neville Ron knew returned, the better for everyone.
As for Harry, however, he was the one most occupied by the Philosopher's Stone mystery, now that he fully believed that Snape was the one who wanted to steal the Stone. While he, Hermione and Neville were now firmly in the anti-Snape, pro-Quirrel corner after Harry told them about the two Professors' exchange in the forest, it was Harry who was relentless in his pursuit for further information. He had actually asked Hagrid right away for more information, and also kept a close eye on Quirrel and Snape for any indication Snape may have gone after the Stone again.
Ron was baffled over how much more invested Harry was than he remembered his best mate being in the past. He had expressed his concern about it to Neville once (since the bloke is apparently rather good with reading people), and it was Neville who offered the strangest plausible reasoning.
"I think it's because he wants to prove that it's Snape who's behind it," began Neville, which made Ron shrug. "I can already tell that much, Nev. But that doesn't explain why he's focusing on that more than, well, anything else."
Neville hesitated before answering. "Well, there's the fact that the Stone can't fall into the wrong hands—"
"Again, I know—"
"And there's also the fact that, for some reason, you still think Snape's innocent, and it bothers Harry more than he's letting on." Neville finished with a slight smirk at Ron's gobsmacked expression. "Did you know that?"
"But—but—! That's ridiculous! Why would he—?"
"Because you are bloody daft when it comes to understanding people's opinion of you, for one thing," Neville pat Ron's shoulder as if in comfort. "Another is that I think Harry wants you on his side on practically everything, and it really bothers him when you two are at odds on something."
Ron cleared his throat. "Just because we're all best mates doesn't mean we'll agree on everything. That's not how this works."
"I know, Ron." Neville said sympathetically. "And it's not like he's mad at you for it. None of us are. I just wish I knew why you're so sure Snape is innocent, even after all the evidence."
"And it's all circumstantial evidence!" At the confusion on Neville's face, Ron elaborated. "Evidence that only imply but don't really prove something. Learned about that during Pettigrew's hearing."
"Someone did a lot of thinking about this."
"Because making Snape the bad guy is just too easy! There must be something we're overlooking!"
The chubby boy shrugged. "I guess I can understand why you'd think that, and to be honest, I'm starting to see your point. But since Snape and Professor Quirrell are still here, that must mean the Stone is still safe for now. Besides, honestly, I'd rather keep an eye on Harry than on a Stone that I can't do anything for."
Ron had conceded that point, but he couldn't help but dwell on the idea of Harry wanting to prove Snape's guilt to get Ron to his side more than anything. But then again, Ron was usually on Harry's side of things (except for those two terribly dick-headed decisions on Ron's part). Yet, during those times, Harry never really actively tried to get Ron to come to his side whenever their views differed. It hadn't mattered to Harry before whether Ron believed him or not, because Harry had been perfectly fine—rightfully angry, sure, but all right on his own—so what made now any different?
Everything was how it should be when he and Neville met up with Harry again much later; talking about Quidditch, laughing at some silly jokes Ron heard from his brothers, dragging Hermione into a game of Exploding Snap, and reading the latest letter Harry got from Sirius and Remus.
Ron shook his head. Neville may be good at reading people, but he might be mistaken with this one. Harry was a great friend, his brother in all but blood, but he was also the Boy-Who-Lived: strong in heart and magic, brave and loyal, and the biggest hero in the future fight against Voldemort.
And since Ron was, and will always be, nothing compared to that, Harry will eventually realize that he was far from reliable or irreplaceable. Just like Harry had in the first life.
Just like how everyone else will.
It was a cool Saturday afternoon when Ron came to the Ancient Runes study club classroom to see Professor Hui, excited butterflies fluttering in his stomach. It was going to be the first day of what Hui called their "wand aptitude tests" sessions, and Ron was both nervous and eager to find out just how different these sessions will be compared to his experience with Ollivander.
There was also a bit of good news Ron wanted to share. "I don't know why it worked, but it did, Professor!" Ron said happily over the tea Hui served him—a light but distinct, slightly bittersweet herbaceous blend Hui called "matcha"—while raising Charlie's old wand. "Charlie looked at me like I had gone a bit barmy when I told him about it, but after he asked the wand to play nice, it worked." He paused. "Well, it's not perfect, but at least it's not actively trying to make my life hell."
"I'm glad to hear it, Mr. Weasley," Hui held the wand appraisingly before nodding. "The way this wand feels in my hands proves your statement. Of course, as you have said, it is not the perfect solution, as the wand may be doing this only out of respect to your brother. There is no way of knowing up to how far will the wand cooperate with you with that in mind."
"It's still mind-boggling how the wands act more sentient than I thought." Ron said honestly. "Makes me wonder if talking to it will help. Like it getting to know me or something like that? Does that even make sense?"
Hui smiled. "Absolutely. Magical folk who showed respect towards wands and magical objects create the most steadfast of bonds with them, with some so strong that no one but those who the object consider their rightful owners can ever wield or touch them even. Can you think of any magical object that was strongly associated with any figure in history?"
Ron's mind went back to the History of Magic lessons he had with Percy. "Err, Excalibur? King Arthur Pendragon's sword?"
"Excalibur was the sword the Lady of the Lake handed to Arthur Pendragon in exchange for a favour, yes, but over time, Arthur managed to imprint a part of himself into that blade, the same way Excalibur did on him. The same can be said with Arthur's first sword, Caliburn, which chose him to be the Once and Future King, the only one who could pull it out of the stone." Hui paused for a sip of his tea. "And there are other examples throughout history I can name: Manannan mac Lir's kin and Fragarach; his own descendant, Cú Chulainn and Gáe Bolg; Guān Yu, a legendary Chinese general hailed to be a war God, and the Qīng lóng yanyuèdāo; Parashurama then his pupil, Karna, and the bow, Vijaya, said to be a gift from the Hindu God of Destruction, Shiva. But since you're not here for a history lesson, let's move on, shall we?"
Ron blinked. "But aren't most of them myths?"
"If that is what you choose to believe." Hui said cryptically. "And whether you can believe that I have seen some of them with my own eyes, is just as much up to you."
Ron did a double-take. "You what?"
"We could discuss it further another time, as always. But we are here for your aptitude assessment. Now then," Hui placed a rectangular briefcase in front of Ron after clearing away the tea. "I'll start by taking your measurements and other pertinent information before we start sampling the wand woods. But before I do so, it is pertinent that I explain to you the basic process of wand making.
"As you already know, wands are made up of two key components: the wand wood and the core. The core acts as the main power source and conduit of your magic to the wand, and the wood acts as the conduit between your magic and the rest of the world, ensuring that your magic will have the desired effect on your targets, though how effective that will be, will depend on a variety of factors.
"The ability to use magic is not limited to wands, but they remain one of the most effective casting tools because of their stability and the fact that they can be made closely compatible with their masters. This means that, while it is true that wands work best with the wizards they chose, any wizard can theoretically make any wand work for them, should they have the right kind of willpower and personality. And before you ask, being able to make—or, should I say, coerce—any wand to work for you is not necessarily a good ability to have, nor will it be able to work as a long term solution."
Ron cringed at the word "coerce". If the wands were as sentient as he was starting to believe, he can only imagine how it must feel to be forced to work for a wizard they didn't like.
"Ideally, a wizard's wand should be as unique as possible, being made just for them and tailor-fit to their personality and strengths. But since a general wand store, say Ollivander's, will not be able to conduct such a lengthy process for all their clients, potential customers are made to try out different pre-made combinations and lengths of wands available until they find what is the best fit." Hui went on. "This will require a meticulous and experienced wandmaker to flourish, proving that the Ollivander family rightfully deserved their decades-old renown to be the best in the field.
"After I take your initial information, I will have you test these wand woods—my generic testing set—compatibility. Note that these will not be the final ones I'll be using for your wand. These will just enable me to narrow down which specific type of wand wood will work best for you."
Ron blinked. "So if, say, the wand wood for me is…" He recalled his old wand wood. "Willow. Would that mean I'll have to test for other types of Willow wand woods?"
"And then we will have to find the core, or cores even, that will be compatible with both you and the wand wood. Or wand woods, if you will be equally compatible with more than one type or family of wand wood." Hui smiled merrily at the thought. "See now why I told you it is a lengthy process?"
"…I didn't expect it to be this complicated. But let's do it."
Hui waved his wand, levitating a couple of tape measures. "Wand arm, Mr. Weasley?"
"Err, right." Ron expected that to be the end of the questioning as the tape measures went across and around his right arm, but then Hui went on.
"What would you say is your best subject in class at the moment? Say the first thing that comes to mind."
Ron did so. "Defense Against the Dark Arts."
If the answer surprised Hui, he did not show it. "Are you more of a proactive or reactive sort of person?"
"I used to be reactive, but now I'm more of a proactive sort. Less shi—stuff going awry that way."
"And the subject you would say is your weakest?"
"Err, History of Magic."
"And the subject you wish to be your best?"
"...Still Defense Against the Dark Arts." Ron answered after a moment's contemplation. "But I'd want to be better at Charms too."
"Which is better: to risk it, or to play it safe? Generally speaking."
Another pause. "...Play it safe."
"And is there such a thing as magic that should not be used, no matter the circumstances?"
Ron thought of the Unforgiveable Curses and nodded. "Absolutely. Especially Crucio, that should never be used on anybody." He then blanched upon realizing. "Ah, I probably shouldn't know that…"
Hui waved a hand. "You have a reputation of reading too far ahead. I'm not that surprised."
Ron didn't know whether to feel relieved or troubled at that answer.
"For my final question," Hui met Ron's eyes with an intense stare. "Why do you wish to master your magic?"
There was just something about the way Hui's eyes seemed to ask for honesty that made Ron answer without thinking. "Because I have people I want to protect."
Hui blinked slowly. "To protect?"
Ah, shite. "Err, my family, we don't have the best standing in the Wizarding World. Our pro-Muggle stance got us a lot of enemies. Not to mention I'm friends with Harry Potter. If it will help me protect them, I'll learn all that I can."
Hui hummed in obvious contemplation before nodding. "…Interesting," He said after a while, making Ron release a breath, "All right. Now let us try the wand woods."
The half-goblin tapped the briefcase on the table before them. To Ron's amazement, the case not only opened but from it sprouted a tree-like structure that bloomed like a flower, its glowing golden branches spreading throughout the classroom, the ends then dropping to reveal hanging orbs that resembled fruit.
"Do you like it? One of my latest inventions. I call it the Yggdrasil." Hui said with a proud smile.
"Yggdrasil?"
"Named after the sacred tree worshipped by the northern ancestors." Hui explained. "You see, wand woods without cores tend to influence each other when they're too close to one another and confuse the client, hence why it's ideal to have wand wood testing in a room where wand woods are separated at a certain length from each other. But since I do home visits and want to make things more convenient for my clients, I made this. The wand woods are contained in the hanging fruits, made especially so they won't be able to interfere too much with the wood's magical energy."
"If no one's ever told you, Professor Hui, you're bloody amazing." Ron said in unabashed admiration
"Thank you, Mr. Weasley. Now, go on, take which of the fruits call most strongly to you." Hui then added. "Closing your eyes might help."
Thinking nothing of it, Ron did as instructed, and then he found himself in a whole new world. It was like being in a symphony, with the wand woods having their own beats and melodies resonating with his magic, from excited yips, gentle humming, melodious song and even heart-thumping bass. It was an experience he could barely describe in words.
But there were several sounds that called to him above all others. One was a soothing song, reminding him of how Fleur used to hum to them to sleep during those nights at Shell Cottage. Another was clear, strong and distinct, a clinking of bells above the song and cacophony. And the last, reminiscent of a deep, haunting synchrony of a chorus, filling him with a sense of power and awareness.
Next thing he knew, he had three fruits in his hands.
What? Since when did I—?
"Splendid! Splendid!" Hui's excited voice rose Ron out of his stupor. "Always an experience to see a client find the wand woods for them. And you found three!"
"Err…I didn't even know how I got these." Ron said, still bemused over what happened. "It was, as soon as I shut my eyes, it was like I heard all of them so clearly, but these are the ones who called to me. I didn't even realize I moved."
"Amazing how strongly wand woods can call out to potential owners, isn't it?" Hui laid the three fruits on an empty table. "Before I reveal the woods, can you tell me which wand wood's call was the most distinct? The one you were most drawn to?"
Ron eyed the fruits, each of them still calling to his magic in their unique ways. But Ron had to admit, "That one. The rightmost fruit. The one that sounded like a choir, if that makes sense."
"As long as it does to you. We all perceive the call of the woods differently, Mr. Weasley. You hear music, for instance, while I smell chemicals."
When Hui moved his wand, Ron expected him to tap the rightmost fruit. Instead, the half-goblin tapped the one at the opposite end, the one that sang like a lullaby, revealing a thin, light colored wood.
"Willow, yes? The wand wood of the healer, one that chooses a master with much potential, as well as one of much emotional depth and awareness. One of the more grounded and gentle-natured of the wand woods known for their patience with their masters, although it has a tendency to be melancholic, especially when paired with emotional cores such as tail hairs of unicorns or certain members of the mystical felidae—the wild cats—family."
Willow? I'm not surprised that it called to me, but it's not the strongest? Ron thought, slightly worried. The willow wand with the unicorn tail was the wand that first picked him in his previous life. And while this proved the connection was still there, the fact that it was muted by the other two…
"Now, the next wand wood." Hui tapped on the wand wood that resonated the toll of clear bells. The wood before them was smooth white with the occasional dark spots. "Now that's a surprise! Aspen!"
"Aspen?" Ron repeated. He hadn't heard of that wood before.
"How curious, to be chosen by both the wand woods of the healer and that of the revolutionary! You are becoming a more interesting wizard by the minute, Mr. Weasley."
"A revolutionary? You can tell that from the wand wood?"
"Certain wand woods are drawn to wizards with purpose, a destiny, if you will. For the aspen, they prefer wizards who are meant for a great calling to change either themselves or, more often than not, the world. They are also known for their aptitude for charms as well as their strong-willed nature. Aspens are some of the most loyal of wand woods to those they believe are worthy of their power. Should your wand wood ultimately be aspen, however, I advise for you to continuously strive for growth and self-respect, as aspen wands will not remain with a wielder who is weak in mind or spirit." Hui turned his gaze to the last fruit. "And for your final, and theoretically, most suited wand wood…"
When Hui tapped the fruit and it blossomed open, the choir song resonated through Ron like a war cry, making him lurch back in shock. What the hell?! "Professor, did you feel that?"
"…My, my, just when I thought you can't get any more surprising…"
The way Hui's eyes dimmed to focused wonder made Ron's heart skip in anxiety. "Err, Professor?"
Hui lifted the last shaft on the table, a knotted dark wood, so grey it was almost black. "I have had the number of clients from different parts of the world, Mr. Weasley, and I only need a hand to count how many were called by this particular wood."
"…Do I want to know what it is?"
The half-goblin studied Ron for a moment before shaking his head. "I have always thought you were far more mature for your age. That is one of the reasons I proposed this arrangement in the first place."
"I think you're giving me far too much credit, Professor Hui."
"You would think that, since you don't know much about me, Mr. Weasley." Hui said. "More importantly, the means I have to determine the character of those I meet."
Ron felt a cold sweat trickle at the back of his neck. "Wh—what?"
"But this is one thing I may have to withhold explaining for now, not until I am certain that this wood is the one for you."
"That just makes me even more nervous!"
"It is to be expected. At the moment, you may think of this as a type of Honeysuckle."
That threw the redhead on a loop. "Honeysuckle? Is that even a real wand wood?"
"One of the rarest and pickiest there is. One that, once it has decided on the master it wants, it will have no one else. Relentless, ever searching, until they are where they feel they belong."
Ron inhaled sharply. "You can't be serious."
"The last client who eventually came to own a wand of this wood told me the same thing." The goblin smiled almost sadly. "And for your sake, I hope that if you are truly meant for this, you will be ready for what it will mean."
Honeysuckle. Who even makes wands out of honeysuckle?
Ron grumbled to himself as he made his way back to the Tower from the library, days after his meeting with Hui. And so far, the few books he found were in consensus that such a wand wood doesn't exist, even as a wand wood reject.
But Professor Hui made it seem like it's an official type of wand wood, and he comes off as someone who really knows his stuff. Ron frowned at the thought. Then again, he's right, I don't know much about Professor Hui at all. I know I should be more worried about that, since he seems to be hiding more cards under his sleeves. Not that I blame him, since goblins and wizards never had the best relationships, more so half-goblins.
Yet, despite these thoughts, he couldn't bring himself to actually distrust the lecturer. That didn't mean Hui was off his suspicious people meter, though.
Just because someone is nice doesn't mean they don't have their own agendas, and those agendas may not always have your best interests at heart. He bit his lip. But, bloody hell, I really don't want to think Professor Hui is someone I need to put my guard up. He's just so…nice. And he's gone out of his way to offer to make me a wand, all because he somehow thinks I'm worth it…
But just what could he mean about the honeysuckle wand wood? And why did he make it sound so…ominous?
"Once it has decided on the master it wants, it will have no one else."
The thought made Ron shudder. Can a wand wood really do that? It's not even a full wand yet, but can it be that sentient, to the point of being that demanding? And here I thought Charlie's old wand was stubborn!
Let's approach this logically. Among the wand woods I remember, which one sounds close enough to be the honeysuckle one? All I know is that it is rare and a picky wand wood. Ron went through the wand woods he read about. So yew, blackthorn, ebony, cherry, and holly. And if I'm going to add stubbornness as a trait, it will come down to yew, blackthorn or ebony. Makes sense, since the wand wood earlier was rather dark, wasn't it? I reckon I should read more about those three, but from what I know, they don't sound so bad. Ginny's wand was yew, if I remember right, and she was brilliant with it!
Unless I'm missing something again…
"—RON!"
"Oi, what?" Blue eyes turned round to meet a pair of frustrated green ones. "Harry? What is it?"
"Nothing much, really. Just trying to catch your attention for a good minute now." Harry said dryly.
"Err, sorry, mate. Just have a lot in mind. Wasn't paying attention."
"You tend to do that too much lately. Everything all right?"
"Nothing big. Don't worry about it." Ron said easily. "Anyway, do you need something?"
Harry stared at him incredulously. "…Do you even know what day it is today?"
"Monday." Ron then frowned at the return of Harry's frustrated look. "What else is it supposed to be? I know it's Monday today because we were supposed to turn in that mammoth essay on making pineapples tap dance for Charms today!"
"…Just come with me."
"Can you, at least, tell me what the deal is?"
"If you don't get your arse moving, I will put you in a FullBody-Bind!"
"Oi, no need to be violent! What's wrong with what I said?! …Hey, Harry! HARRY!"
"…SURPRISE!"
When Ron finally managed to catch up to Harry in the Tower, he was showered by a bunch of confetti, shiny paper and ribbons.
"Wha—?"
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, RON!" After Ron cleared the last of the confetti from his vision, he saw his brothers, the Gryffindor first years, the rest of the Quidditch team and Lee Jordan smiling brightly under a banner with the words "Happy 12th Birthday, Ronniekins!", a two layered chocolate cake, plates of biscuits and cookies, and mugs of pumpkin juice on the Common Room table.
"Oh." Ron blinked in realization.
"Oh?" That made Percy start in bemusement. "Don't tell me you actually forgot it was your birthday today!"
"Err…"
"Look what you two did!" Percy rounded on the twins. "I told you hiding his gifts from home would be a bad idea!"
"Bloody hell, it's not like we thought—"
"—that he'd actually forget his own birthday!"
"Hey, it's no big deal, Perce! I mean, you actually managed to surprise me, so it's a win in your books, right?" Ron said placatingly. "And to think you guys did this much for me!"
"No wonder you were acting like nothing's wrong when we weren't saying anything the whole day!" Fred bemoaned, obviously disappointed in Ron's lack of reaction earlier. "You had us worried you already knew about the surprise."
"Sorry. Just had a lot in mind."
Hermione frowned at him. "That's been happening a lot lately."
Great. Even Hermione's getting worried. "Well, whatever it is, it's nothing compared to this!" Ron smiled at the cake. "Wicked! How'd you blokes get this up here?"
George smirked. "We'd tell you, Ronniekins—"
"—but then we'd have to kill you."
"No, you won't." Ron deadpanned. "You love me too much."
"Touché."
"He got us good, Forge!"
"Anyway, can we all have some of the cake now? Wouldn't do to keep everyone else waiting."
Angelina flicked her wand over the candles on the cake. "Not until you do the birthday boy honors!"
Ron pretended to sound long suffering. "If I have to."
And it was in the background of everyone singing "Happy Birthday to you" in varying tempos that Ron blew the candles, causing another round of confetti to burst out of nowhere (he hoped the House Elves won't have a hard time cleaning all that up) before the group broke into conversation over their sweets.
Ron was left with an armful of gifts from his brothers, Harry, Hermione and Neville, the latter three feeling put out over Ron not telling them that today was his birthday.
"If Percy hadn't told us about the surprise party he and the twins have been planning since yesterday, we never would have found out." Harry said, still obviously miffed about it.
"Oi, it's not that I can just go and tell you lot, 'Oh, by the way, my birthday is on 1st of March, just so you know.'" He said in exasperation.
"And it's just not fair, since you know all of our birthdays!" Hermione pointed out. "I don't even know how you found out!"
Ron shrugged. "Harry's and Neville's were pretty obvious. As for yours, I have my ways."
Neville shook his head. "You and your mysteries, Ron."
"But I think it's great you are part of the surprise. Really means a lot to me that you went through all the trouble."
"We're your friends, Ron!" Hermione said in exasperation. "And it's no trouble, really. You're the one who kept saying I needed a break from my books every now and then, weren't you?"
Ron laughed. "Right."
"And you looked like you needed the break too." Neville added. "You've been looking out of sorts for a while now. It's got nothing to do with the you-know-what, does it?"
The time traveler's gut clenched at the worry in his friend's eyes. He should have known his friends would have noticed his sudden change in mood. Did his brothers notice too, he wondered? Was that why they organised this surprise party?
What the hell are you doing, Ron?
"I'm really sorry about that, Nev. It wasn't even anything too important anyway," said Ron, "Was just too worried over what-if's that I really can't do anything about."
"If it's something we can help with, you know you can tell us," Hermione said. "Well, even if it might not be something we can help with, you can tell us anyway."
"My Gran always said that we shouldn't try to worry too much about the future. Makes us lose sight of what's in front of us." Neville added kindly. "And besides, whatever it is, I'm sure you'll be able to handle it!"
Ron winced. "I wish I knew where your faith in me is coming from, Nev."
"And I wish I knew where yours kept disappearing to." Harry said sharply.
"Somewhere in the real world, I reckon." Ron shrugged. "But Neville's right. No sense worrying too much over something that isn't here yet. I'll deal with it when it comes, just like I always do." He clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder. "And I'm glad I have such wicked mates to knock some sense into me whenever I get lost in my own head!"
And Ron meant it. Maybe it was a consequence of being a time traveler, but Ron became more prone to overthinking things and events to the point where he blocked everything else out. Having his friends there to pull him out of his self-made burrow of anxiety and careful planning helped in not only relieving him of some of that burden, but also in reminding him about the importance of what was in front of him right now.
Well, whatever it means—me matching with that honeysuckle or whatever-that-wood-is wand in the future—I'll just have to face it as it comes. Because what I need to worry about is what I know will be coming.
But Norberta. Oh, Merlin, Norberta. That fucking dragon I can definitely do something about.
"Hagrid, what are you doing here?"
The surprise in Neville's tone was well-warranted, since they have never seen Hagrid anywhere near the library, let alone anywhere inside the castle past the Great Hall before. Neville had seen the half-giant strode into their view while he, Harry, Ron and Hermione were busy working on their respective homework (or, in Ron's case, his Ancient Runes study club essay).
"Jus' lookin', is all." Hagrid answered in a painfully apparent shifty tone. "An' what are you lot up ter? Yer still not pokin' yer nose in on the you-know-wha', are yeh?"
"We're working on homework, actually." Hermione answered. "But since you're here, Hagrid, we might as well ask you about the Sto—"
"SHHH!" Hagrid shushed her while quickly looking around. "Don' go shoutin' about it! What's the matter with yeh?"
"You said there were other Professors beside Snape guarding it," Harry tried again. "If you could at least—"
"I said shush!" Hagrid's eyes shifted around again before his voice lowered to a whisper. "Listen—you lot come an' see me later. I'm not promisin' anythin', but don't go rabbitin' about it in 'ere. You're not supposed to know about—"
"We won't, we won't." Harry assured him quickly. "We'll see you later."
It was after Hagrid shuffled off that Hermione mentioned she saw him carrying a couple of books, prompting Ron to get up and search for the section Hagrid had been to, coming back with a few books on what he already knew about.
"Dragons! Hagrid was looking up on dragons!"
"Nothing unusual there. Hagrid always said he wanted a dragon," said Harry.
"Not that simple with these titles." Ron pulled out some books into view. "From Egg to Inferno. A Dragon Keeper's Guide. An Idiot's Guide on How to Tame Your Dragon. Now that's a load of rubbish! You can't tame a dragon!"
"So he's been looking into dragon care?" Hermione frowned worriedly. "Reading about dragons is one thing. But on dragon care specifically? What are the chances of Hagrid actually having dragon on him right now?"
"Not very likely." Neville answered. "Dragon breeding has been outlawed since the 1700's. Only dedicated reserves are allowed to raise them. That eventually made dragon eggs into some of the most expensive smuggled goods, brought in by poachers for a hefty amount of galleons."
"That's true," Ron nodded, "Always makes Charlie downright pissed if you ask him about it."
"…You don't think Hagrid might have somehow, uhm," Hermione fidgeted, "Acquired one, do you?"
Harry's lips thinned. "I'd hope not, if it is as illegal as it sounds. Are there any wild dragons in Britain?"
"Common Welsh Greens and Hebridean Blacks," said Ron. "But if an egg is smuggled in? It could be anything from a Hungarian Horntail to an Ukrainian Ironbelly, the biggest dragon there is."
Harry sighed. "I suppose we'll only find out once we go see Hagrid."
It was a sign of how troubled Hermione was that she immediately closed her book. "Then what are we waiting for?"
The gamekeeper's hut was sweltering hot when Hagrid let the four inside, most of the heat coming from the blazing fire in the grate at the center of the house. There were varying degrees of bemusement and concern over the strange situation the Gryffindors found themselves in, but they ignored their discomfort in favor of the matter at hand.
"So yeh wanted to ask me somethin'?"
"Yes." Harry began. "You said there were others defending the Stone apart from Fluffy and Snape. Can you tell us more about them?"
Hagrid shifted uncomfortably. "Yeh know I can't just say that. For one, I don't know meself. Another, even if I did know, I can't tell yeh. Yeh shouldn't even know about the Stone in the first place!"
"Oh, but we were just worried, Hagrid." Hermione said in a warm, flattering voice. "As much as Professor Dumbledore trusts you to guard the stone, I'm sure there are others who are helping with such an important task. And we know that you do know, since you know everything that's been going on in school. We just want to make sure that the others helping you with keeping the stone safe are really trustworthy."
Laying it on thick, eh, Hermione. Ron nevertheless traded knowing smirks with Harry and Neville as Hagrid, puffing with pride, let his guard down a bit.
"Well, let's see…he borrowed Fluffy from me, then some o' the teachers helped with the enchantments." Hagrid ticked them off with his fingers. "There's Professor Sprout, Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall, Professor Quirrell too. And then there's what is it Professor Dumbledore did."
A flash of worry crossed Harry's eyes as he prompted further. "But no one else knows how to get past Fluffy, do they Hagrid?"
"Nope." Hagrid puffed his chest again. "Not a soul, 'cept me an' Professor Dumbledore."
"Well, that's—"
"Hagrid, what's that you got by the fire?"
The half-giant jumped at Neville's sudden question. "Err, what?"
Curiosity distracting them from asking about the Stone, Harry and Hermione joined Neville and Ron crowding around the fire.
"Is that…" Hermione swallowed. "Is that a dragon egg?!"
"Ah, err…"
"And a Norwegian Ridbgeback to boot!" Ron caught the surprised looks on his friends' faces and shrugged. "I do pay attention whenever Charlie would talk about his job. Even if it feels like he can go on forever about it!"
Now that the secret was out, Hagrid seemed to relax a little more. "Won it from a game o' cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, I reckon."
Hermione eyed the house warily. "You're not thinking of raising it here, are you?"
But said wariness flew past Hagrid's head. "I've been doin' a bit o' reading—Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit—bit outta date, but it's got everythin'."
"You live in a wooden house, Hagrid." Harry tried to remind him.
"Nothin' I can't handle, don' yeh go worryin' over nothin'—"
"But Hagrid—!"
"—keep the egg in the fire, cause their mothers breathe on 'em to get 'em to hatch, and then—"
Neville blinked as Hagrid went to recite passages from the dragon breeding book to Harry and Hermione who were trying their best to dissuade him from the idea. "Think they'll be able to convince him?"
Ron snorted. "Doubt it. Hagrid's been wanting a dragon since forever. Who'd you think inspired Charlie to be a dragon tamer? I don't think Mum's forgiven Hagrid for that yet."
"He'll be in for a very rough time, then." Neville winced. "Dragons are difficult to manage, even as juveniles, and they grow very fast too."
"I know. Charlie's gotten some nasty burns because of them in the reserve. Why he still wants to work with them, I'll never know."
"…That's a surprise. I thought he'd have an easier time because of his dragon affinity."
Ron met Neville's confused gaze. "Dragon affinity? What's that?"
"Oh, you've never...I mean, I thought... since your brother's a dragon tamer." Neville cleared his throat. "Sorry. I thought you would have known. There are some wizardfolk said have a gift for handling dragons. Some would even say they have the power to communicate and even tame them, because they have the gift of their tongue. The ancient dragon language."
"You're referring to the legend of the dragon riders." Ron had heard the story before, one of his favorites from the ones his Mum used to tell him. "That…sounds nice, and I'm sure that Charlie would kill to have that ability. But it's just an old tale. I've never heard of any real-life wizards or witches being able to tame a dragon like that."
"True, the existence of the dragon tongue was never confirmed, but as for the dragon affinity…" Neville hesitated. "Well, after what happened in the war with your family, I can understand why you wouldn't have known."
Ron froze. "What do you mean?"
"It's thought to be the reason why their Essence of the Family has always been some sort of dragon." Neville said slowly. "Those who have had the strongest dragon affinity, they always came from the Most Ancient and Noble House of Prewett."
Dear Charlie,
Hope you're doing well in Romania. It's still a bit warm here in Scotland, but with the rainy season coming up soon, it probably won't stay that way past next week.
Anyway, I'm writing because there's something my friends and I need help with.
Before you go thinking about sending me a Howler, I didn't do anything. I mean, not yet. See, Hagrid's got himself a newly hatched dragon baby. A Norwegian Ridgeback. Said he won the egg from some stranger in a pub.
Problem is, he wants to raise it in his hut, and from the stories you've told me, I don't think that's a good idea. Harry, Hermione, Neville and I just want to get rid of it as soon as possible, but we don't want to get Hagrid in trouble. Think you and your friends from Romania can help?
Hope to hear from you within the week.
Don't let the dragons bite too hard.
Your little rascal,
Ron
As tempting as it is to ponder about the newest mystery that had been unceremoniously dumped onto his lap, Ron had something bigger to worry about. By the time Ron owled his brother, Norberta had already grown too long and heavy for Hagrid's dinner table.
Despite the four's best attempts to convince the groundskeeper to reconsider, Hagrid stubbornly held onto the dragon egg, and so Norberta still popped into the world right on schedule, turning their next several days to hell.
Hagrid was obviously wearing himself down while keeping up with the demands of the temperamental, demanding dragonling who was more than happy to bite whenever she felt like it. He kept to his hut since Norberta's hatching, and the rare times he would emerge, he was always coated with sweat, soot, a dusting of chicken feathers, and even occasional flecks of blood.
And while they weren't as hands-on with Norberta as Hagrid, the quartet was growing more and more visibly affected by the stress over being technical accomplices in rearing an illegally acquired dragon, with Hermione becoming more agitated and Neville, jumpier. And truth be told, even Ron felt the anxiety. Since he was determined for them to not get caught, he was particularly focused on remembering as much as he could about the events concerning the dragon.
Thank Merlin his deluminator helped him out once again. If there was one good thing about this, it was that Ron felt he was getting a hang of how the item worked. It seemed like whenever there was something he focused on that he wanted to remember about, the deluminator would warm up then give him flashes whenever he'd touch it.
Because of the flashes, he remembered how Malfoy found out about the dragon, the dragon biting his hand, then Harry and Hermione sneaking out with the invisibility cloak, the story of them carrying Norberta's crate all the way up the tower.
Thanks to his memories, Ron implemented additional strategies: suggesting to Hermione to learn the Locomotion charm, reminding his friends to remain hushed up about Norberta as much as possible, and only talking about her when they were at the safety of the Tower.
At the very least, not giving Malfoy the idea that they were up to something he could exploit. The Slytherin made good of his word, and had left the friends alone. But Ron wouldn't be surprised if the ferret would try to work around the deal for some sort of payback. And seeing Malfoy pinning them with glares bordering from angry to suspicious every now and then, Ron really didn't want to put that theory to the test.
Although that may also have something to do with Malfoy and his cronies being the target of a string of vicious pranks, from hair-switching to pimple breakouts to hopping around like bunnies, causing peals of laughter wherever they went. No one still knew who the perpetrators were, but Ron and his friends had a good idea who it was. And if all those pranks were the twins and Lee's idea of getting back at the berk for what he did to Neville, Ron was all for it, even if it would mean Malfoy becoming more vicious about his revenge come second year.
Still, Ron and his friends didn't want to risk getting caught by Malfoy or anybody for that matter, so they worked together to get rid of Norberta as soon as possible. And after pestering Hagrid for days on ideas on how to let Norberta go, Hagrid finally, tearfully, relented to Harry's suggestion to ask Charlie for help.
Three days have passed since then. Ron just went back from the Arithmancy study club meeting with Hermione to find Harry alone in the Common Room, working on homework.
Ron couldn't help but chuckle. "You doing OK, mate?"
Harry glared. "Don't act all smug just because you're already finished with yours."
"Well, we did tell you to finish it earlier." Hermione said primly. "So what are you working on?"
"Transfiguration. Need a three foot long essay on the importance and application of the Transfiguration alphabet." Harry answered glumly. "I still need a few more inches…"
Hermione and Ron traded looks before the former sighed. "All right, let me take a look at it…"
The three were in the process of editing Harry's essay when the portrait hole burst open and Neville came into view, pale and sweaty, a dirty white kerchief wrapped roughly around his right hand.
"Neville?" Hermione jumped up in alarm. "Where have you been? What happened?!"
"Hagrid's. Said he needed help with Norbert." Neville said haltingly, his expression a grimace of pain. "We were feeding it. But suddenly he—he bit me! That ungrateful, oversized lizard! We really need to get rid of it soon!"
Shite. Ron winced sympathetically, knowing just how much that bite hurt. Like in the first life, Hagrid owled them asking for help with Norbert since the dragon was being particularly moody that afternoon. But since Ron had his club activities, he hadn't been available and thus the responsibility fell onto Neville.
He was worried about this happening again, but he hoped his friend would have been able to avoid Norberta's fangs better than Ron did in the past.
Harry frowned worriedly at the sight of the wound. "You should have Madame Pomfrey look at it, Nev. I'm no Mediwizard, but that doesn't look good."
Neville shook his head quickly. "I—I can't! I could get Hagrid in trouble! I'm sure she'd be able to tell at once what this is!"
"But what if Norbert's fangs are poisonous?" Hermione said, shortly before Ron confirmed it. "They are. Charlie warned us about them. They are not as strong as the other dragons, so they have poisonous fangs to make up for it."
Neville paled even more at that and eyed his hand unsurely.
Harry set his face in determination. "That's it. If the wound really is poisonous, we have to take you to the Hospital Wing. Come on."
"But what about—?" Neville then blinked and gestured at the window. "Is that Hedwig?"
Distracted, Harry turned to see his snowy white owl tapping at the window. "It is! She must have Charlie's answer."
Ron opened the window, and Hedwig landed on the nearest table, leg stretched out expectantly.
"So, Charlie's friends will pick up Norbert this Saturday." Harry said after the group read Charlie's reply. "We got the invisibility cloak. It shouldn't be too difficult."
"But will it cover all four of us? And Norbert?" Hermione pointed out.
"Well…" Neville eyed his hand again. "Maybe not all of us will be able to go."
"Or maybe we can just be really careful while with the cloak. I'm sure it'll be able to cover the three of us plus that dragon," said Ron.
"We have time to plan what to do next." Harry turned to Neville. "We need to get Neville to the Hospital Wing first."
Neville tried to put it off, saying he could handle it. But come the next morning, the bite wound had taken a turn for the worse, as the hand had swollen twice its usual size and had taken a sickly shade of green. The friends had been so worried that Harry put his foot down and dragged Neville to the Hospital Wing himself. Neville had been nervous that he won't be able to cover up for Hagrid well, but Madame Pomfrey, though obviously suspicious, didn't press for details. Neville had to stay in the Hospital Wing for a while though, leaving Harry, Hermione and Ron to plan for Norberta's escape on their own.
"I hope Neville will be all right." Hermione whispered after Potions. "We should have taken him to Madame Pomfrey last night."
Ron scratched the back of his head. "What's done is done. Besides, we did try to convince him, remember? But Nev wouldn't hear of it!"
"Because he was scared he wouldn't be able to cover for Hagrid if Madame Pomfrey started asking questions," sighed Hermione. "Honestly, he's the one in danger of losing his hand, which shouldn't have happened in the first place if Hagrid wasn't being so stubborn!"
Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably. "You can't really blame Hagrid. He's in over his head, sure, but he really wanted a dragon."
"And then what? Hide it in his hut forever? Raise it in a castle full of children and without the resources to properly contain it?" Hermione blew a breath. "We really need to get Norbert out of here soon. But we do need to tell Hagrid first."
Harry agreed. "After my Quidditch practice and Ron's study club. We'll go down to Hagrid's hut and tell him."
"Will he let Norbert go though? You know how long it took us to convince him to let us write Charlie."
Ron scowled. "After what happened to Neville, that ought to convince him! Or do I have to get my hand bitten too? He has to admit at some point that he can't raise a bloody dra—"
But Harry immediately stepped in front of them with a sharp, "Shush! Both of you!" before turning his head as if looking around.
...Ah, bullocks! It was then that Ron remembered that he should have been more alert for eavesdroppers. Hermione too had seemingly caught on, as she noticeably stifferend before swivelling her head in frantic survey of the dimly lit stone corridors.
There was no one in sight, but Ron had the uneasy feeling that they weren't as alone as it appeared. And the thought amped up his anxiety three fold.
"Tomorrow night." He met Harry's and Hermione's gazes with restrained force. "This has to end tomorrow night."
Saturday night couldn't come fast enough for the three friends. Ron was tempted to tell the others to not look obviously stressed out, but he wasn't in the position to do so with the dark circles under his eyes and his frayed temper that he could barely keep under control by avoiding everyone else.
He didn't remember setting up Norberta's escape to be this stressful in the first life. Then again, he was too busy worrying about being one hand shorter instead. If this was what Harry and Hermione went through in the past, then he really was the absolute berk for getting his hand bitten and not being of any more help, on top of being the reason Malfoy found out about the tower rendezvous.
While I won't mind that ferret finding out this time around too as long as we don't get caught by Filch again. Let him have a night all by himself in the Forbidden Forest, see if that doesn't knock him down a few pegs.
The day was ironically very pleasant, considering the season, the sun lazily shining behind fluffy white clouds swaying in the cool spring breeze. But while everyone else was happily lounging about for the weekend, Harry, Ron and Hermione spent most of the day at the courtyard, perfecting their Locomotion charm on some of Hermione's heaviest books. Then, after another visit to Neville, who was out of it for the most part because of the medications he had to take for his hand, they joined the rest of their House mates for dinner then distracted themselves with Exploding Snap back at the Tower while waiting for everyone else to turn in for the night before springing into action.
Huddled under the cloak, the trio carefully made their way to Hagrid's hut, avoiding obstacles such as wandering patrols and Peeves playing tennis with one of the corridor walls along the way. They found the groundskeeper near the hut's entrance, securing ropes around a rattling wooden crate half his height and nearly as wide as his waist.
Hagrid's tears were overflowing when he saw them, and while Ron did feel a bit of sympathy for the man, he was more anxious to put this whole affair behind them as soon as possible.
"N—Norbert's inside. Just packed 'im in there with—with lots o' rats and some brandy fer the journey." Hagrid said gruffly. "Packed his teddy in too. In case he—in case he gets lonely."
Hermione patted Hagrid's arm comfortingly while Harry put on an obviously forced smile. "Great. I'm sure he appreciated that, Hagrid."
If by appreciate, you mean he's glad he has something to tear to shreds to alleviate the boredom. Ron winced when he heard growls and the sound of ripping cloth. Then, he really, really does.
After giving Hagrid another minute to say his tearful goodbyes, ("Bye-bye, Norbert! Mommy will never forget you!") the trio was left with the harrowing task of getting the crate up to the Astronomy Tower. Ron supposed he should be grateful that they managed to get the Locomotion charm right somehow. With the three of them, moving the crate wasn't as difficult as expected, although the real difficulty was in pacing their climb to avoid being seen.
Since Harry and Hermione had a hard time maintaining concentration type spells for such a prolonged time, Ron made it so that the two would take turns helping him maintain the spell, since he can hold it longer thanks to Charlie's old wand being more cooperative. Ron couldn't even imagine carrying Norberta's crate by hand up all these stairs (given how much the dragon would budge and bang against the wood), still amazed at the realization that it was exactly what Harry and Hermione had to do back then.
He supposed he should be grateful that the trip was uneventful, albeit they were a little out of breath from the effort of climbing the steps and casting the charm. Ron took a moment to straighten his robe, before turning to face the Astronomy Tower roof deck.
About ten minutes later, four adults came, mounted on brooms, none of which Ron ever met. Charlie wrote a bit about his friends, but never had the opportunity to introduce them to the Weasleys. So, Ron was just as taken aback as Harry and Hermione when the four got off their brooms in exuberant greeting.
"Top o' the evening to yeh lads and lassie!" One wizard, brown and burly with long, ash blond hair tied in a messy ponytail. "Right jolly good pleasure to meet ya! Name's Grady. Johannes Grady."
"Johanna Richter," said the tall, muscled woman next to Grady with cropped auburn hair and only one visible green eye, since the right one was under a simple black eye patch. "And unfortunate enough to share a first name with this blabbermouth."
"Ah, come on, love, that's no way to speak to yer boss!"
"Supervisor, not boss. Five years and you still can't remember the difference."
"Break it up, you two. Don't want to leave the kids with a bad impression, eh?" Said the gangly wizard from Johannes' left with brown hair styled in a wild crew cut and a short but hairy beard over thin lips. "Holter Montresor, at your service, monsieurs and mademoiselle." He said with a bow.
"And this hush puppy ove'ere," Johannes added while pulling over who appeared to be the shortest and youngest of the group, a bronze skinned young man with a pair of goggles over his bowl cut black hair and almond shaped brown eyes. "Our newest rookie, Mihal. Mihal, err...how do you say your surname again? Smith?"
"Schmidt." Mihal said flatly before giving the confused children the slightest of nods.
There was an awkward pause before Ron stepped forward with a hand out. "Err, nice to meet you too. I'm Ron, Charlie's brother."
"Right, I figured it would be yeh! Got that trademark Weasley hair right 'ere!" Johannes ruffled Ron's hair, to the boy's surprised squawk, while they shook hands. "Charlie's talked a lot 'bout you, ya little troublemaker! Plannin' to give yer brother a run for his money, he always said."
"I'm not that bad!" Ron rolled his eyes. "Anyway, there's the bloody beast inside the crate, and these are my friends, who helped me bring it up."
"I'm Harry." Harry introduced himself before Hermione nodded. "Hermione."
"Right, lovelies. So, is that there the dragon we gotta smuggle out of 'ere?" Grady whistled at the growls and jerking coming from the crate. "Wow, ain't this a docile juvie, eh? Know what kind o' dragon it is?"
"Hagrid said it was a Norwegian Ridgeback," said Ron.
Richter raised a brow. "And he managed to keep it under wraps for days now? I don't know whether to be impressed or exasperated! Ridgebacks are notoriously difficult to raise, especially in small, contained places like Hogwarts."
"Hagrid kept him locked in his hut, but Hogwarts itself isn't that small." Hermione pointed out, but the older woman shook her head. "Take it from a tamer, hun. For a dragon, this here school is a tiny playpen."
Harry eyed the adults and then the brooms. "So, how are you going to lift it out of here? You can carry it on your brooms?"
"Bien sûr!" Montresor showed Harry a coil of sturdy looking rope. "We got ropes and harnesses; and Mihal here can cast a good Disillusionment Charm. N'est-ce pas, Mihal?"
Schmidt only stared at Montresor blandly in reply.
"We've been doing this sort of thing before you learned how to walk, Harry." Richter said with a confident smile. "You think the reserve would send us if we didn't know how to do our jobs?"
Harry blushed. "Err, sorry, it's not that I think you couldn't—"
"Relax, would ya?" Grady ruffled Harry's hair. "You pups worked hard until now! Leave the rest to us, eh?"
Ron was surprised not just by their friendliness but also how they didn't either recognize or care that this Harry was the Harry Potter. But he was also grateful for it, since it meant that Norberta can be taken away without other distractions. Even if the group was rather odd, from Grady's forwardness and Schmidt barely uttering a word, to Ricther being brasher and brawnier than any woman he had ever met and Montresor looking to the Forbidden Forest's direction as if there was something utterly fascinating about it.
Ron would later find out from Grady, it was the first time Montresor—a French native who just joined the dragon reserve two years ago—had ever been to Hogwarts. In fact, none of the four were Hogwarts graduates or even from Britain.
The four dragon tamers quickly set the ropes and harnesses up before carefully lifting the crate with their brooms, and with a goodbye ("Nice to meet you, youngins!" Grady waved. "Hope we get to chat a little more in the future!"), the tamers took off for the long trip back to Romania.
The three students stayed at the tower, watching until the crate and tamers faded into mere specks in the sky before making their own escape. Harry didn't forget the cloak this time, so they managed to sneak under it on their way back to the Tower, something Ron was relieved they managed to do.
Although some things, it looked like, were never going to change.
"Student out of bed! Student out of bed!" Filch announced, dragging along a very familiar blond boy.
"Unhand me, you ruffian!" Malfoy scowled as he tried to wrench free from the caretaker's grasp. From below him, Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris, hissed angrily.
"Don't you think you can run from me, you naughty rascal! Sneakin' round the halls past curfew. You're going to get in trouble for this, you ought to!"
"You don't understand! Potter—Potter and his friends! They're planning something! I heard them—"
Filch sneered. "If they are doing some mischief, I'll deal with 'em after I'm done with you."
"Why, you insufferable, miserable—ARGH! Don't bite me, you stupid cat!"
Ron watched as Filch, Malfoy and Mrs. Norris walked past. "So Malfoy did hear us yesterday! Shite, I knew we should have been more careful!"
"Good thing we have the cloak," Harry waved the material for emphasis. "Who knows what would have happened if we didn't."
"At least, we managed to help Norbert escape. And Malfoy could get detention too." Hermione sighed. "I could sing!"
Ron understood the feeling, the effect of the euphoria of success and the relief of finally getting rid of that bloody dragon. And, as he stepped into the portrait hole with his friends, with Harry folding the cloak away into his jacket, he was really looking forward to sleeping the last dregs of his stress away and remembering what it was like to have a peaceful life.
Until he saw a furious Professor McGonagall by the Common Room fireplace.
"Where have you three been?"
He felt his heart drop to his feet.
Oh. Fuck. Me. Sideways.
Come now, you really didn't think it was going to be that easy, did you?
So what do you think is that wand wood that called out to Ron the strongest? I'm sure I dropped a good number of hints. And so, after all that effort, our trio still got caught. What does this mean for the next chapter? We'll just have to wait and see!
Reviews are golden, as always, and I would like to thank everyone who took the time to comment on TBA. Also a huge thank you to those still following this story and adding it to their favorites/bookmarks! If you think there's anything I need to correct or for any other suggestions, feel free to let me know! I enjoy a good discussion.
And, finally, the AO3 crosspost has now officially caught up with the version! Hurray! Now you can read the next chapters in whichever of the two you prefer.
See you in the next one!
GLOSSARY [French]:
Bien sûr: Of course.
N'est-ce pas: Isn't that right?
UP NEXT:
Oh no! Harry, Ron and Hermione are caught! How will the Gryffindor house react to the consequences of this blunder? How did they even get caught in the first place? And a detention in the Forbidden Forest? Wonder if Ron will find anything interesting there...
