Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback

In the weeks that followed, John watched Quirrell nervously for signs that he'd given in to Snape and Castiel's exploding letters became so frequent that he'd stopped coming down to the Great Hall for breakfast altogether, choosing instead to have a small snack in the hospital wing with Madam Pomfrey. This took its toll on everyone Sherlock had taken to pacing irritably whenever he had a spare moment, while Hermione went about muttering counter-curses that may help, as much for Quirrell as for Castiel. Gabriel could be seen wandering the corridors looking tired and worried, although he always spared a smile for them whenever he saw the. Lucy remained as amused about the whole thing as she had ever been but she started becoming more chaotic as the days turned.

All too soon their minds turned to their exams, and drove almost all thought of anything else out of their heads. Hermione had drawn up revision timetables and colour-coded her, and everyone else's, notes. Castiel had begun leaving neatly stacked piles of notes and reminders where everyone could find them. John was very grateful for them as he feverishly copied them down. He was beginning to realise just how much he'd been missing during his mid-lesson naps. Sherlock and Ron, however, weren't worried.

'Don't know what you lot are so worked up about,' Ron said one day, 'the exams are ages away.

'Ten weeks,' Hermione replied. 'That's like a second to Nicolas Flamle.'

'Yeah but we're not six hundred years old,' he reminded her.

'Come on, Ron, even John's revising.'

'Yeah, that's because he sleeps through most of our lessons,' Ron laughed. Hermione humphed but said nothing as she was reminded of John and looked over at him jotting down Castiel's handy tips.

Unfortunately the teachers thought it was high time they started revising as well and piled as much homework on them as they possibly could over the Easter holidays, which, incidentally, were not nearly as fun as the Christmas ones. It was hard to relax with Hermione reciting the twelve uses of dragon's blood next to you and John and Castiel's constant scribbling. They spent most of their time grumbling and moaning in the library.

On one particularly sunny afternoon Ron was gazing wistfully out of the library window at the clear blue skies and the bright sun warming the grounds. He could just see the giant squid basking in the sunlight. No one except Hermione was concentrating very well. John was resting his forehead against the desk, most likely asleep, Sherlock was tapping his foot impatiently and Castiel had been staring at the same page of his book for the past hour or so. Harry, who was looking up 'Dittany, in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, didn't look up until he heard Ron say, 'Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?'

Hagrid shuffled into view, hiding something behind his back and looking very out of place in his moleskin overcoat.

'Jus' lookin',' he said shiftily. Everyone except John's attention was immediately captured. 'An' what're you lot up ter?' He looked suddenly suspicious. 'Yer not still lookin' fer Nicolas Flamel are yeh?'

'Nah we found him ages ago,' Ron said impressively. Sherlock narrowed his eyes at the section Hagrid had just been in and slowly started narrowing down which it might be.

'There's a few things we wanted to ask you, actually,' Harry said. 'First of all, what's guarding the Stone besides Fluffy-'

'We know what's guarding it though,' said Ron.

'No, we know who's guarding it,' Hermione corrected.

'SHH,' Hagrid hissed, looking around worriedly. 'Listen- come an' see me I'm not promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin' mind, but don't go rabbittin' about it in here. Student's'll think I told yeh-'

'See you later then,' said Harry.

Hagrid shuffled off. Once he was gone, Sherlock jumped over the table and started shaking John awake.

'John, wake up,' he said loudly. John's head snapped up and he looked around blearily.

'I wasn't asleep,' he said automatically.

'Of course you weren't. We're going to Hagrid's tonight, he's going to tell us more about the Stone,' Sherlock said.

'Okay, cool,' John mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

'I wonder what he was hiding behind his back,' Hermione said thoughtfully.

'I'm going to see what section he was in,' said Ron.

'I think you'll find that he was in the dragons section,' Sherlock called after him before turning back to John, letting everyone else mutter about dragons when Ron returned with an armful of books. John's head was lolling again and Sherlock snapped his fingers in front of his face.

'Come on, John!' he said exasperatedly.

'Do you mind?' John replied irritably. He was getting less sleep than usual these days because of all the revision he'd been doing, so he constantly felt as if he had grit in his eyes and his limbs felt leadened. He had also begun falling asleep in strange places, the most recent of which, Castiel had found him curled in a ball in a shadowy corner of the castle courtyard.

'This is getting ridiculous,' Sherlock grumbled.

'Oh wow, you think so?' John said sarcastically.

'There must be something you can do.'

'Don't you think that if there was, I would have done it by now?' he exploded. 'I wish more than anyone that I wouldn't keep falling asleep everywhere.'

Sherlock looked genuinely upset for him.

'Why do you think it's happening?' he asked him. He sighed and ran a hand though his blond hair, making it stick up at odd angles.

'I don't know, I just go to bed like normal but when I get up it feels like I was never asleep at all. Maybe it's the weird dreams,' he added.

'Weird dreams? What are they like?' Sherlock asked. John shrugged.

'I don't know, I can never remember them- just that they're really weird. And dark.'

Sherlock frowned and leaned back in his seat, pondering the mystery further.

An hour later they were knocking on the door of Hagrid's hut and were surprised to find the curtains closed.

'Who is it?' Hagrid called before he opened the door to them, closing it quickly behind them.

It was stiflingly hot inside. Even though it was such a warm day outside, there was a fire blazing in the grate. Hagrid made them all tea and offered them stoat sandwich, which they refused.

'So- yeh wanted to ask me somthin'?'

'Yes,' said Harry. 'We were wondering if you could tell us what's guarding the Philosopher's Stone besides Fluffy.'

Hagrid frowned at him.

'Blimey, you don't hang around, do yeh. Course I can't, don't even know meself. Beats me how yeh even know about Fluffy.'

'John,' Sherlock said sharply. John was staring dreamily out of the window in the direction of the Forest, though he wouldn't be able to see anything past the curtains. He blinked and looked around at Sherlock.

'What- sorry?' he said dazedly.

'What were you thinking about?'

'Nothing much, just how lovely the Forest looks this time of year…'

Suddenly his attention focused back on the conversation as if nothing had happened, just as the others were discussing Snape.

'Look, Snape helped protect the Stone, he's not about ter steal it,' Hagrid was saying. Castiel looked vaguely pleased that he had correctly deduced which teachers were guarding it; however it was overshadowed by his worry for the Stone.

'Well that changes everything. I'm sure he was just paying Fluffy a social call,' Sherlock said sarcastically, growing even more irritable in the heat.

'Shut up, Sherlock,' John snapped. 'You're the only one that knows how to get past Fluffy, right, Hagrid?'

'Not a soul knows but me and Dumbledore,' he replied.

'Well that's something,' Harry muttered. 'Can we open a window, Hagrid, I'm boiling.'

'Sorry, Harry, can't,' he said, glancing at the fireplace. Harry and Sherlock followed his gaze and gasped loudly.

'Hagrid, what is that?' Harry asked, but he already knew. In the heart of the fire, beneath the kettle, was a big, black egg.

'Er- well it's erm-'

'Where did you get it?' Ron asked, crouching by the fire. 'It must have cost you a fortune.'

'Won it las' night. I was down in the village havin' a few drinks an' I won it in a game o' cards with a stranger. Seemed quite pleased ter be rid of it as a matter o' fact,' Hagrid explained.

'Oh, I wonder why. Carrying dragon eggs around isn't illegal or anything,' Sherlock sneered.

'That's a dragon egg?' John said in disbelief.

'Do keep up, John,' said Sherlock.

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

'Well, I've been doin' some reading,' he said, pulling a large book from under his pillow. 'Got this outta the library- Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit- bit outta date o' course but it's all in there. Keep the egg in the fire, 'cause their mothers breathe on 'em, see, an' when it hatches, feed it a bucket o' brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. An' how ter recognise diff'rent egss- what I got there's a Norwegian Ridgeback. They're rare, them.'

He looked very pleased with himself, but no one else did. Harry and Ron were watching Hagrid, absolutely gobsmacked. Castiel looked as if he'd like nothing better than to get as far away from the egg as he possibly could.

'Hagrid, you live in a wooden house,' Sherlock pointed out, but he wasn't listening. He was humming merrily as he stoked the fire.

Now, on top of everything else, they had Hagrid's illegal dragon to worry about. The stress was even beginning to get to Sherlock and he suffered a spate of painful headaches and he snapped at everyone for the smallest things. Evening after evening, they struggled with homework and revision.

One morning at breakfast, Sherlock was resting his chin against the table and John was snoring into his bowl of porridge.

'Can't you just stay awake for five minutes,' Sherlock snapped, pushing John out of his seat.

'What on Earth was that for?' John demanded, head appearing above the table.

'You were being irritating,' he replied.

'I was being irritating?'

'That's what I said.'

John sighed, rolled his eyes and climbed back into his seat.

'I'm not doing this today,' he said, but Sherlock wasn't listening. Across the hall, Lucy had stood up and bolted from the room, clutching a piece of parchment in her hand. Sherlock stood up to follow but John was tugging at his sleeve, stopping him from going. Hedwig had just dropped a note on the table in front of Harry.

'It's from Hagrid,' he said as he tore it open. It had two hastily scribbled words on it: It's hatching.

Ron wanted to skip Herbology altogether and go straight to Hagrid's, but Hermione reminded them of their impending exams, so they begrudgingly went down to the greenhouses. Sherlock ad taken the message up to Castiel but refused to go to Transfiguration with him, choosing instead to hide outside the greenhouse, occasionally poking his head through the window, to see what was going on when Professor Sprout wasn't looking.

Herbology was the one lesson that John never fell asleep in, mostly because he had no wish to be attacked by the Venomous Tentacula seedlings. The lesson passed agonisingly slowly as they anticipated going to Hagrid's, only punctuated by one particularly tense moment when Sherlock was almost dragged through the window by the Tentacula.

At last, the lesson was over. As soon as the bell rang they dropped their trowels and hurried away from the trays of fertiliser. Sherlock met them outside and they ran down to Hagrid's hut, where Castiel was waiting for them. Hagrid greeted them at the door and ushered them in looking flushed and excited.

'Come in, it's nearly out,' he said.

The egg was rocking on the table, covered in deep cracks and something inside was making a funny clicking sound. They all drew up chairs and waited with bated breath. Suddenly the egg split open and the baby dragon flopped out. It wasn't exactly pretty, in fact it looked rather like a crumpled up umbrella. Its spiny wings were huge compared to its bony, black body. It sneezed, sending a shower of sparks everywhere and Castiel threw himself away from the table and pressed himself against the far wall.

'Isn't he beautiful,' Hagrid murmured. He moved a finger towards it to pat its scaly head, but it snapped and bared its fangs.

'Bless him, look, he knows his mummy,' Hagrid said, clearly pleased. Castiel had gone white with terror and couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from the dragon. Suddenly he wasn't the only one who looked terrified. Hagrid shot to the window and yanked open the curtains.

'Someone saw him, they're headed up to the castle,' he said. They all rushed to the door to peer out at the figure fleeing back up to the castle. There was no mistaking the slick blond hair gleaming in the sun.

'Malfoy,' Harry murmured.

Over the next week they spent as much time as they possibly could in Hagrid's, trying not to get singed.

'Just let him go, Hagrid,' Hermione urged. 'Set him free.'

'I can't. He's too little, he'll die,' Hagrid said sadly.

Meanwhile Sherlock and John were still puzzling over the source of John's exhaustion. Sherlock thought it must have something to do with the strange dreams John had mentioned, so one night he snuck up to the Gryffindor boys' dormitory and curled up at the end of John's bed.

'What are you doing?' John asked him.

'I'm going to watch you while you sleep to see if there are any physical symptoms of your insomnia,' Sherlock explained. John looked at him in disbelief for a moment.

'That sounds cool and everything- you now, lots of long words- but do you reckon you could try something a little less invasive and maybe asking? Where's Castiel anyway? Did you leave him in Ravenclaw Tower alone again?'

'No, he's staying in the hospital wing tonight, he's still trying to perfect his burn salve,' said Sherlock, choosing to ignore his earlier comments.

'Don't blame him really. All right, you can stay, but I swear, if you wake me up for no reason I will put every curse known to man on you,' John threatened, wrapping the covers around himself.

'If you two are going to talk all night, go downstairs and do it,' Ron's muffled voice grumbled from behind his curtains. John simply threw a cushion in Ron's general direction before settling down to sleep. Sherlock sat cross-legged on the end of the bed but quickly grew bored. He picked up a picture frame off of John's bedside table and squinted at it in the dim, flickering candlelight. It was a photograph of a couple and their two children. Sherlock stared at the man in military uniform and felt he looked familiar. He took in the soft curve of his nose and blond hair, then it hit him. This must be John's father. That would make the woman his mother and the little girl his sister. His eyes moved to the baby that must be John, his face squashed into a disdainful expression that suggested he was seconds away from screaming as loud as his tiny lungs would allow. Sherlock's expression softened as the present-day John snuffled in his sleep. He was just about to replace the photo on the table when he felt the back of the frame wobble slightly. He turned it over to have a look. The clasps were slightly rusty from lack of use. Sherlock carefully worked them loose and the back came fee, revealing the back of the photo and a piece of paper that read 'Connie' on it. All at once Sherlock felt like he was intruding on something private, and though it never affected him usually, this time he carefully replaced the letter and the back of the frame before putting it back on the table. Over the next hour he got tired a lot quicker than he thought he would and struggled to keep himself awake…

Sherlock bolted upright and looked around in confusion. The candle had burned itself out and the room was completely black. Quickly his eyes adjusted and he stared at the bed. Something was wrong but his half asleep mind refused to process what he was looking at. Slowly he realised what was missing- John. Sherlock scrambled to get off the bed and, in his haste, caught his ankle on the covers and crashed to the ground.

'Sherlock, what are you doing?' Harry said blearily.

'John's gone!' he gasped.

'Calm down, he probably just went to the bathroom. Why don't you go downstairs and wait for him?' he suggested. Sherlock nodded uncertainly and made his way downstairs. The fire had also burned out and there was a slight chill in the air. Sherlock curled up on the sofa and quickly fell back to sleep. When he woke the next morning, he found himself tangled up with several of John's limbs. He poked him and he stirred slightly.

'Sherlock? When did you get here?' John murmured sleepily

'I was here first,' said Sherlock, running both of his hands through his messy curls.

'Yes, I suppose you were,' he said.

Just then Hermione came down the stairs.

'Oh, hello you two. We're going down to Hagrid's for breakfast- want to come?' she asked, pulling on her shoes. John stretched his arms and yawned.

'Nah, I'm going to go find Castiel, see if he wants to come,' he said.

'I highly doubt he will,' Sherlock snorted. The dragon had grown three times in length since it had hatched, bitten Ron and given him a nasty infection, coughed sparks all over Castiel, singing his robes and Hagrid finally settled on the name 'Norbert'. Harry and Ron stamped down the stairs, Ron looking distinctly disgruntled.

'Coming to see the nutter with us?' he asked.

'Ron!' Hermione exclaimed reproachfully.

'Well he is! He's calling himself 'Mummy', he's keeping a dragon in his house, Hermione. What sane person does that?'

'Not to mention the Malfoy could go to Dumbledore at any moment,' said Harry.

'Well Charlie's friends are coming to get him on Saturday, so unless Malfoy goes to Dumbledore before then, it should be fine,' John said.

'Yes except someone gave Charlie's letter to Malfoy, so he's probably going to be hanging around at the top of the tower waiting for them,' said Sherlock.

'But he doesn't know about the Cloak though, so that gives us an advantage,' Hermione said doubtfully.

'Stop it, Sherlock, you're scaring Hermione,' John scolded. Sherlock groaned loudly and Hermione flushed.

'He isn't,' she said indignantly.

'See? She's fine,' Sherlock grinned.

'Right,' John sighed. 'I'm going to get dressed and go find Castiel. Don't worry, Hermione, I'm sure everything will be ok,' he smiled encouragingly before disappearing up the stairs.

Finally Saturday came around and midnight found Sherlock pacing around the airy Ravenclaw common room while Castiel, wrapped in his trench coat, watched him nervously.

'I'm going to see what's going on,' Sherlock announced, striding towards the door.

'That's a really bad idea,' said Castiel. Sherlock stopped, his hand on the door.

'Yes it is. Are you coming?'

'Of course.'

Sherlock smiled as Castiel stood up and put his coat on properly.

They ran as quickly and quietly as they could up to the Astronomy tower. On the way up they ran past a window and Sherlock thought he saw a shadowy figure entering the Forest as he raced past, but when he looked again there was nothing there. They reached the foot of the spiral staircase that led up to the top of the tower, where they bumped into Harry and Hermione. Sherlock gaped at them in horror.

'Where's the Cloak?' he asked. They'd left it at the top of the tower! They turned back to retrieve it but it was too late. Filch's voice sounded gleefully from behind them.

'Well, well, well, we are in trouble.'

Thanks to Ninja, NightFlowerLuv, AbigailTBird1998, hogwartsmockingjaysilvertounge and SongOfTheBirds. Thank you all so much for the reviews :)