NORBERT THE NORWEGIAN RIDGEBACK

RUBEUS

The door of the Hog's Head creaked open. Hagrid looked up to see a hooded figure glide inside. He took a swig of his mead and watched the figure, presumably a man, order a drink from the bar. Once served, the cloaked figure cast a sweeping glance (though his face remained in shadow) around the pub; to Hagrid's surprise, the man swept between the tables and headed to his corner.

'Evenin',' said Hagrid cautiously; he was often wary of meeting strangers in the Hog's Head.

'Good evening. Mind if I join you?' spoke the face beneath the hood.

Hagrid waved an airy hand, and the man took the seat opposite him.

'You local?' Hagrid asked the stranger.

'No, just a traveller stopping by,' lied Quirrell. 'Yourself?'

'Yeah, I work up at the school. Gamekeeper.'

'At Hogwarts? I see. And what does that job entail?'

'Well, mainly keeping the Forest safe fer the students, takin' care o' the creatures, tha' sorta thing.'

'I see. What sort of creatures? Let me get you another drink,' Quirrell added, for Hagrid had just emptied his tankard.

Once Quirrell returned with a fresh tankard of mead, Hagrid answered:

'All sorts, really. Thestrals, Acromatula, unicorns. Then there's the centaurs, but they can take care o' themselves. Like I said, a bit of ev'rythin'. No dragons, though,' he added with a rueful smile.

'You like dragons?'

'Always wanted one,' Hagrid admitted. 'Beau'iful creatures, dragons. There's just something abou' them.'

'Well … this must be your lucky day. I happened to pick up a dragon's egg only the other week, and haven't had an opportunity to find a suitable owner.'

'A real dragon's egg?' said Hagrid in a hushed voice. 'Can I see it?'

'I'd rather it wasn't seen,' said the stranger, casting a wary glance around the pub, which was gradually emptying. 'Perhaps we could, say, play a game of cards, and the winner gets to keep it?'

Hagrid had never heard such a wonderful suggestion. The stranger collected a pack of cards from another table, as well as a double Firewhiskey for Hagrid from the bar, and they played.

'It's a Norwegian Ridgeback, I believe,' said Quirrell, re-shuffling the pack having intentionally lost his fourth consecutive round. 'The Scandinavian laws on dragon-breeding aren't as strict as ours. I'd rather you kept this between you and me. Are you sure you think you could handle it?'

Hagrid snorted with amusement. The mead and Firewhiskey were taking its toll; he was slow in the mind, and when he spoke his voice was slurred.

'I've dealt with a three-headed dog, sir, a dragon should be no problem.'

'A three-headed dog?' repeated the stranger – and though Hagrid could not see his face, there was palpable excitement in the man's voice. 'Now that's something I've never heard of. That sounds terrifying. How do you look after a creature like that?'

'He's a big softie really,' Hagrid told him. 'He gets excited every now and then, bless, but he's easy enough to calm down – jus' play him a bit o' music and he falls asleep jus' like tha'.'

'Is that so,' said Quirrell, a distinct note of triumph in his voice, which Hagrid hardly noticed: he had just won the final round of cards and downed the rest of his drink in his victory. Quirrell applauded him graciously.

'Well played, my friend,' he said. 'Well, here you go, as promised …'

Hagrid watched with child-like excitement as the man carefully withdrew something from inside his cloak. A moment later, he presented a huge, jet-black egg, which Hagrid took in his enormous hands.

'Look at tha',' muttered Hagrid, as though he were holding a new-born baby. 'Beau'iful … Thank you, sir.'

'You won it, fair and square. I'm glad to have found someone who can make use of it. You've been most helpful tonight,' said Quirrell, smiling beneath his hood.