Professor Quirrell was apparently stronger than he let on, because for a long time afterwards—much longer than next Tuesday, at any rate—he did not seem to have cracked. Snape's surly mood all but confirmed our suspicions that our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was holding strong against any threats… for now.

March passed smoothly, and April arrived. With time passing so quickly, both Hermione and I turned our concerns to our impending final exams. Even though the tests were two months away, we found it safe to begin studying; although Hermione was admittedly going a little overboard. She was fretting about all of her notes, color-coding them, organizing them by the date taken…

One afternoon, as Hermione was once again agonizing over our exams, Harry suggested we go down to Hagrid's to relax and think about something pleasant for a change. This was surprisingly met with no arguments, and so we trotted down the grounds and knocked on the front door of the gamekeeper's hut.

"Who is it?" called Hagrid's gruff voice. The four of us exchanged looks as he opened the door, looking uncharacteristically suspicious. When he saw it was us, he admitted us inside and closed the door straightaway.

"Hello, Hagrid," I said with a grin. "How are you?"

"Oh, doin' fine, doin' fine," he answered. His eyes were darting around the hut as he waved us inside and closed the door. "You lot gettin' ready for yer tests?"

Ron groaned. "Don't remind me…"

"Hagrid," interrupted Harry. "We wanted to ask you something. We were wondering if you could tell us what's guarding the Sorcerer's Stone apart from Fluffy."

I shot Harry a look and muttered from the corner of my mouth, "I thought we were here to relax and take our minds off of stressful matters?"

Harry grinned at me uneasily and shrugged. "Sorry."

"O' course I can't," said the gamekeeper, apparently oblivious to our side conversation. "One, I don' know meself. Two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn' tell yeh if I could. That Stone's here for a good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts—I suppose you've worked that out an' all? Beats me how yeh even know about Fluffy."

Hermione didn't seem to believe a word of what was just said. Puffing out her chest, she exclaimed, "Oh come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you do know, you know everything that goes on around here."

Hagrid smiled lightly under his black beard; encouraged, Hermione continued speaking. "We only wondered who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you."

This seemed to have done the trick. With a shrug of his great shoulders, Hagrid acquiesced. "Well, I don' suppose it could hurt to tell yeh that. Let's see… he borrowed Fluffy from me… then some o' the teachers did enchantments. Professor Sprout—Professor Flitwick—Professor McGonagall—Professor Quirrell, and then Professor Dumbledore himself, o' course. Hang on, I missed someone…" He paused for a moment to recall whom he had forgotten. Then, with a snap of his fingers, he exclaimed, "Oh, yeah! And Professor Snape!"

"Snape?" Harry exclaimed, astonished. His green eyes were wide as they found mine.

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

Harry and I exchanged looks. If Snape had been let in on the enchantments, then he most likely knew how to get past them all… save for Hagrid's and Quirrell's, based on his previous encounter with Fluffy and the blackmail he was reserving for our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"You're the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy, aren't you, Hagrid?" Harry asked, his eyebrows furrowed together. "And you wouldn't tell anyone, would you? Not even one of the teachers?"

"Not a soul knows except for me and Dumbledore," Hagrid said proudly.

"Well, that's something, then," murmured Ron. He then glanced around the hut before inquiring, "Hagrid, can we open a window? I'm boiling in here."

His request wasn't a strange one. For some peculiar reason, Hagrid's hut was sweltering, although the discomfort had been easier to ignore during the engaging conversation.

"Can't, Ron, sorry," Hagrid said, glancing at the fire. Noting this, the four of us looked at it too.

I swallowed hard. "Ah."

"Hagrid…" Harry pointed at the fire. "What is that?"

The quiver in his voice betrayed that he knew exactly what it was: in the heart of the roaring flame was a large black dragon egg.

"Ah," Hagrid began, "That's, erm…"

"Where did you get it, Hagrid?" Ron asked. He bolted off of his chair and stooped low to the fire for a better look. Astonishment on his face, he whispered, "It must've cost you a fortune."

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

I left the chair and stood next to Ron. While it was true this was an incredible thing to witness, I couldn't help but feel uneasy. I was no Magizoologist, but even I knew that dragons were kept in enclosures for a reason…

"What are you going to do with it when it's hatched?" asked Hermione.

"I've bin doing some readin'," Hagrid said while searching for something. When he found it, he placed it on the table: it was a large book titled, Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit. "It's a bit outta date, o' course, but it's all in here. What I've got is a Norwegian Ridgeback. They're rare, them."

I looked around. There was barely enough room in the hut for Hagrid. Breathless, I gasped, "Hagrid… you live in a wooden house. Something just doesn't work here."

But it was like I hadn't spoken. Hagrid simply turned around to stoke the fire, humming as he did so.


It was only two days later that Hagrid sent us the letter in the mail, the one we had been anticipating. There were only two words on it: It's Hatching.

Ron was all for skipping Herbology to go and watch the dragon's birth, but Hermione and I were not as sure, seeing as there was not much time left before finals.

"Hermione, Belle!" groaned Ron, his eyes flying skyward. "How many times in our lives are we going to see a dragon hatching?"

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

A shuffling of footsteps just around the corner informed me that someone was coming. I shushed Hermione frantically as they emerged—and it was none other than Draco Malfoy, although this time he was accompanied by his twin sister Elizabeth. The six of us passed each other without incident, although the smirk on Elizabeth's face was awfully worrying…

The Malfoys moved into the Great Hall; I watched them over my shoulder to ensure they weren't conspirint together. It was clear my friends were wondering the same thing: if the Malfoys had overheard our conversation or not.

There was no more argument about when to visit Hagrid. We agreed to go immediately after Herbology during our break.

Even though I wanted to concentrate on our lesson, I couldn't stop thinking about that damnable dragon. It could get Hagrid into immense trouble at the best of times, and yet I also couldn't help wanting to know more about it.

The moment we were released from class, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I stuffed our supplies in our bag and raced to Hagrid's hut at the edge of the woods. Our friend was waiting for our arrival there, a bright look on his face as he ushered us inside, saying, "It's nearly out."

As soon as we walked inside, the large black egg on the table shuddered and exploded. Out plopped a scaly dragon, breaking free of its restraints. The dragon stretched its paper-thin wings—and then sneezed, causing a few rogue sparks to simmer on the table.

The dragon looked at Hagrid and cawed.

"Bless him, look, he knows his mummy!" Hagrid was practically glowing as he reached one finger out and scratched underneath the dragon's chin. The dragon's eyes closed lethargically and made a sound that was remarkably similar to a cat's purring.

"Hagrid," Hermione uneasily asked, "how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?"

Instead of answering, Hagrid leapt to his feet and raced to the window.

"What's the matter?" said Harry.

Hagrid's face had gone from happily flushed to ghostly white in a matter of seconds. "People were lookin' through the gap in the curtains… they're kids, they're runnin' back up to the school…"

Harry and I both bolted to the door—there was no mistaking the two heads of silver-blonde hair, even from so far away.

Knowing there was no other choice, we began to plead with Hagrid to let the dragon go. We tried to tell him there was nothing good that could come out of having a dragon in his hut, especially now that the Malfoys knew what was going on.

Hagrid, however, didn't seem to agree. A fretful, motherly look on his face, he replied, "I can't jus' leave 'im. He's too little, he'd die out there."

Eventually, he seemed to tire of our concerns, and went back to cooing at the dragon that he had named Norbert. The four of us exchanged worried looks as Hagrid leaned over the dragon and exclaimed, "Norbert, where's mummy?"

"He's losing his marbles," muttered Ron, eyes wide.

No matter what the four of us said, nothing we could do convinced Hagrid that having an illegal dragon in a wooden house was a bad idea. Each time, he would bite his lip and say, "I know I can't keep him forever, but I can't jus' dump him, I can't."

Right before we were about to leave the hut, Harry whirled towards Ron and said, "Charlie."

Ron stared at him. "You're losing it, too. I'm Ron, remember?"

"No, no! Your brother Charlie in Romania, studying dragons—we could send Norbert to him. Charlie could take care of him and then put him back in the wild!"

After a brief debate, Hagrid eventually agreed to let us to send a letter to Charlie, asking if he would take the dragon.

Ron sent the letter that evening, and the response couldn't come fast enough. Over the next few days, the four of us took turns helping Hagrid raise the dragon. It was no small task—Hagrid often had to venture into the Forbidden Forest to hunt for the creature, leaving us in charge of the babysitting. The dragon was growing quickly, too… before too long, it wouldn't be able to fit in the hut very comfortably.

One day, while Hagrid was once again looking for some meat for the baby dragon, Hermione and I were in charge of keeping watch over Norbert. We were alarmed to note that the dragon had already increased in size; it was now bigger than a kneazle, when previously it had been the size of a knarl.

"He's kind of cute, though, isn't he?" asked Hermione, trying to smile.

Norbert sneezed—a small fire engulfed the edge of the table, which made us yelp and grab a bucket of water to douse it. So it usually went with the dragon-sitting.

To add to our stresses, the Malfoys were more sinister than ever, smirking at us whenever they possibly could. It was clear they relished holding this blackmail over our heads, and that they were going to milk it for all it was worth.

Finally, however, Hedwig returned with Charlie's answer. Ron couldn't open the letter since his hand was swollen and wrapped in a bandage due to a dragon bite, so Harry opened it instead and softly read it aloud:

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

Harry sighed. "I've got the Invisibility Cloak. It shouldn't be too difficult—I think it'll be big enough to carry us and Norbert."

Thus, after a quick conference with Hagrid, it was decided. Norbert would be sent away, along with any dirt the Malfoys had on us.

Were things only so easy. The next morning, Ron was forced to go to the hospital wing, seeing as his hand was much too swollen to conceal, and that was without mentioning it was beginning to turn a sickly green color.

We wasted no time in visiting him, but it looked like we weren't the first ones to do so. The minute we showed our faces, Ron began muttering about how the Malfoys had come to the hospital wing, telling Madam Pomfrey that they needed to borrow one of his books. In reality, they had come to laugh at him.

"It's all right, Ron, it'll all be over at midnight on Saturday," Hermione tried to reassure, but her words had the opposite effect.

Ron turned pale and clammy. "Oh no, oh no, I've just remembered! Charlie's letter was in the book the Malfoys took! They're going to know we're getting rid of Norbert!"

Almost sensing Ron's change of mood, Madam Pomfrey flew over and shooed us out before we could say more.

Even though we knew our mission could be jeopardized, there was nothing else for it. We had to go through with the plan, because there wasn't time to send another letter. It had to be done, Malfoys interfering or not.

And so it was on Saturday night that Harry, Hermione, and I all escaped the Gryffindor common room underneath the Invisibility Cloak. We met Hagrid at his hut late at night, where he was awaiting us with Norbert already packed up in a cage and ready to go.

"He's got lots o' rats and some brandy fer the journey," sniffled Hagrid. Despite the wretched situation, I felt sorry for him… he'd mentioned he'd always wanted a dragon before. "An' I've packed his teddy bear in case he gets lonely."

I placed a hand on Hagrid's arm in a final gesture of consoling; and then together, the three of us ushered Norbert's cage underneath the cloak. Hagrid blew his nose and waved farewell, exclaiming, "Bye-bye, Norbert! Mummy will never forget you!" as we began to walk away.

It took a lot of time and effort to escort Norbert to the Astronomy Tower. He was no longer a tiny glob, after all, and the cage was quite heavy as well.

Somehow, however, the passageways through the castle were empty. There were no professors, no ghosts: after fifteen minutes, the corridor we needed was in sight, and Harry hissed, "Nearly there!"

No sooner had he said this than we saw a flash of light and a furious voice screech, "Detention!"

It was Professor McGonagall. We slumped against the wall, our eyes wide as we watched our Head of House escorting both Draco and Elizabeth Malfoy past us, her nostrils flared and fire in her eyes. "And fifty points from Slytherin each! Wandering around in the middle of the night, how dare you—"

"You don't understand, Professor!" pleaded Draco. "Harry Potter's coming!"

"And he's got a dragon!" Elizabeth added, but their cries only seemed to make Professor McGonagall angrier.

"What utter rubbish! How dare you tell such lies! Come on—I shall see Professor Snape about you two!"

When at last the trio was gone and the lamp's light had faded entirely, we threw the Invisibility Cloak away from ourselves. Harry and Hermione exchanged gleeful looks regarding the fortunate turn of events.

"The Malfoys have detention! Oh, I could sing!" gasped Hermione.

"Don't," said Harry—and then we ascended the long set of spiral stairs until we were at the very top.

When we arrived, we were already able to see four figures on broomsticks approaching the Tower. Charlie's friends spotted us and waved as they arrived, quickly showing us the harness they would strap Norbert into so that way they could bring him back to Romania.

It was a bit of work, making the dragon fit in his new harness, but eventually we succeeded. With a final farewell and a fair amount of thanks, our new friends flew off. We watched them go until they were nothing but a speck in the sky… once they were gone, it felt like a tangible weight had been lifted from our shoulders.

With smiles on our faces at a job well done, we made it all the way downstairs—

Only to find Filch waiting for us, because like idiots, we'd left the Invisibility Cloak at the top of the tower.