Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor am I affiliated with it in any way.

Note: This chapter is largely character development and a good example of how different Whitney and Harry are.

Chapter Seventeen – Norbert

Snape and Quirrell all but faded from Whitney's mind when she finally reached the Gryffindor common room that night. The Weasley twins has managed to steal snacks and drinks from the kitchens, and everyone was celebrating. Whitney was clapped on the back, cheered, and complimented. A group of fifth years jokingly bowed to her. She couldn't help but smile, though the extended attention was making her a little uncomfortable.

When everyone had greeted and thanked her, they went back to their partying and she tucked herself into the corner near the fireplace next to Ron, whose lip was bleeding. Whitney's mouth dropped open slightly and she leaned forward to wipe some blood away, but Ron shrugged her off. "What happened?" she asked.

Ron grinned at her, and then winced as his split lip protested. He chuckled a little. "I gave Malfoy a black eye," he told her.

Whitney was both surprised and amused. "What?" she asked. "When?"

"While you were diving at Snape," he told her. "Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle by himself. He's out cold, but Madame Pomfrey says he'll be all right."

Whitney fought the urge to jump up and run to the Hospital Wing. It was after hours, and even if she went, Madame Pomfrey would never let her see Neville. She took a break and exhaled, giving Ron a half-smile. "Did he at least get in a few good ones?" she asked, and Ron laughed.

"Yeah," he said sarcastically. "I think Goyle's really learned his lesson."

After the conversation she had overheard, Whitney felt like it was time to talk to Hagrid again. He clearly knew what was going on with this Philosopher's Stone, and the teacher who had tried to kill her had started threatening the stuttering Defense teacher. Whitney knocked heavily on Hagrid's door three times and stood back to let him wrangle Fang so he could answer the door.

There was a crash, instead, and no barking from Fang. "Be there in a mo'!" Hagrid shouted from behind the door, the scraping of moving furniture accompanying his voice. A few minutes later, he opened the door and peeked his scraggly head out, looking down on Whitney. Whitney had her arms crossed over her chest and was looking rather annoyed.

"Oh," Hagrid said slowly, his eyes shifting nervously, "uh, it's you."

Whitney's eyebrows knit together, which doesn't quite have the intense effect on the face of an eleven-year-old than it would on someone older. "Yes," Whitney replied. "It is. And I need to talk to you about—"

"Well, now's no' really a good time fer a chat," Hagrid told her, starting to close the door.

Whitney, who eight months ago would have gone quietly, was indignant at the dismissal. When the door was almost closed, she said quickly, "Philosopher's Stone."

The door froze, an inch from being shut. "How d'you know abou' that?" he asked in hushed tones without opening the door.

"Let me in," she told him. She heard Hagrid's massive sigh from the other side, and the door slowly opened to admit her.

Whitney loosened the collar of her robes upon entering. It was a warm spring day, anyway, and Hagrid had the fire stoked up to a stifling degree. She nearly gagged from the taste of the thick, hot air in the room. She glanced at the fireplace, but there was a wooden table in front of it. "You should be careful," she said idly to him, pointing at the table. "It's too close. It might catch fire."

Hagrid muttered something she didn't quite make out, but sat down and offered her a tea cake. She shook her head and looked at him seriously. "After the game last night, Professors Snape and Quirrell met in the Forbidden Forest," she told him. "Snape threatened Professor Quirrell. He wanted to know what else was guarding the Philosopher's Stone. He means to take it, Hagrid," she finished.

"Codswallop," Hagrid said, and Whitney wondered what on earth that was supposed to mean. "Professor Snape wouldn' try teh steal it. He's one o' the ones helpin' teh guard it."

Whitney bit her lip. "I'm only telling you what I heard with my own ears, Hagrid," she said, squirming in her robes, which seemed to be growing heavier every moment she was in this active volcano.

"Well, yeh heard wrong, an' you ain't s'pposed ter be in the Forest in th'first place," he told her, trying to sound cross, but looking far too guilty for that to work. His eyes shifted to the fireplace for a brief second, but Whitney noticed and turned to take a closer look. She could see, sitting in the flames, a round, black egg.

"Ugh, Hagrid," Whitney said, looking mildly repulsed. "What are you cooking?"

"I'm not cookin' it!" Hagrid exclaimed, sounding offended. "I'm hatchin' it," he said before he could stop himself.

Whitney's mouth dropped open as she tried to swallow what he was telling her. "Hagrid?" she asked slowly. "What's in that egg?"

Probably realizing it was too late to lie to her again, Hagrid said rather weakly, "It's… a dragon. A Norwegian Ridgeback, ter be exact."

Whitney turned to look at Hagrid, who was looking rather dreamily toward the fireplace. Whitney pointed a hand at the table in front of it. "I suppose there's a reason you were hiding it?" she asked.

Hagrid blushed beneath his beard. "Well, technically, yer not s'posed teh own one," he said, moving over to put the table back in its place. He began to stoke the fire more, but Whitney was edging toward the door, unable to stay in the heat much longer.

On the other side, Whitney leaned against the door and sighed. "Brilliant. Just bloody brilliant."

While Whitney contemplated what to do about Hagrid and his illegal dragon, her teachers dumped more and more homework on them as they prepared for exams in a couple of months. Whitney chewed on her bottom lip as she sat with Ron in the library, trying to remember where nettles were commonly found without looking it up.

Ron, distracted from his homework so easily, looked up at Whitney and asked, "What kind is it, even?"

Whitney had made the mistake of telling him about the dragon egg. Ron seemed equal parts horrified and excited, but Neville wanted nothing to do with anything so dangerous and illegal, and Hermione merely frowned walked away every time Ron asked another question. It was why they were studying alone today.

Whitney shrugged. "I think he said it was a Ridgeback. A Norwegian Ridgeback."

"Those are really rare," Ron went on. "My brother Charlie works with them in Romania. Wild ones, of course, since it's completely illegal to own one. Is he going to keep it?"

Whitney snorted. "I think he intends to, but his house is made of wood, so I don't think it'll end well. I wish Hagrid would just go to Dumbledore about it."

"He'd get the sack for sure," Ron said.

Whitney shook her head, remembering Dumbledore finding her at the Mirror of Erised. "I don't know. Dumbledore caught me out of bed after hours a few nights ago, and he just laughed and told me to go to bed," she told Ron.

He laughed. "Well, that's 'cause you're you, isn't it?" he asked, making her blush angrily. Ron didn't seem to notice her expression. "What's he going to do? Expel Whitney "The Girl Who Lived" Potter?"

"Quit it, Ron," Whitney said as quietly as she could manage, but he went on.

"The Ministry'd call him senile and boot him."

Whitney huffed and stood up from her seat, grabbing her book. "You're a prat, Ron," she told him, storming away.

It was three days before Whitney spoke to Ron again, though it wasn't for his lack of effort. Knowing he'd upset her, but not sure why, Ron made a few weak attempts at conversation, but Whitney didn't want to explain why she was upset. She didn't really know why she was upset, in honesty. She'd never gotten upset at things people said to her before, so why now?

Three days, Whitney decided, was long enough to be angry. She caught up with Ron in the common room where he was being forced to study with Hermione. She stood next to the table with her arms crossed over her chest until he noticed she was standing there, which didn't take very long since he seemed to be trying to look anywhere but his homework.

Looking a little uncomfortable at being stared down by Whitney, Ron greeted her with a quiet, "Er, hullo."

Whitney tried to soften her expression, and she dropped her arms to her sides. She was about to tell Ron that she wasn't upset anymore, but before she had the chance, Lily flew overhead and dropped a letter on the table. Frowning thoughtfully, Whitney picked it up and read the messy handwriting. She looked at Ron with wide eyes.

"It's hatching," she said before running off. Ron dropped his quill and followed her, leaving a stunned Hermione behind him.

In the days that followed Norbert's hatching, Whitney had been bitten burned by steam twice, and nearly bitten a half a dozen others, yet she still kept going back, trying to convince Hagrid to talk to Dumbledore about it.

"Well, 'e'd send 'im away," Hagrid said indignantly.

"Yeah, but somewhere he should be," Whitney urged. "Somewhere safe with other dragons like him. You want that for Norbert, right?" she asked. "If you talk to Dumbledore, I bet he'd even give you time off for visiting every year."

"But, look," he fought lamely against Whitney's reason. "He already knows 'is mummy."

And, indeed, Norbert was currently attempting to chew his way through "mummy's" boot.

"Hagrid," Whitney said as softly and kindly as she could manage, "he's eventually going to get so big that you can't hide him anymore, and then you'll be in a lot of trouble. So much that maybe even Professor Dumbledore can't help you, then."

Hagrid deflated, sighing so heavily that his chair creaked beneath him. Whitney, sensing a break in his resolve, fished a piece of rough parchment, a quill, and some ink out from under the scorched remains of an old blanket, and set them in front of Hagrid, who began to write.

Whitney waited patiently for Hagrid to be done, but it was a short letter so it didn't take too long. She took it and folded it very carefully, tucking it up one sleeve. "I'll send Lily," she told him. "She's quick and she'll make sure no one else gets it."

Hagrid looked miserable, but nodded anyway.

"Norbert's going to be all right," Whitney told him, sounding confident. "Maybe he can even go and live with Ron's brother, Charlie, in Romania. I bet Charlie'd let you visit loads."

She patted one of his giant shoulders with her tiny hand, and left the hut behind, headed straight for the Owlery. When she was finished, she went back to Hagrid's hut and sat with the man in silence—broken by the sounds of Norbert attempting to breathe fire—until Dumbledore arrived.

He smiled kindly at the two of them. "Ah, yes," he said slowly, closing the door behind him. "I thought I recognized the owl, Miss Potter."

Whitney looked a little uncomfortable. She'd only spoken with the man once before, and she wasn't sure if she should address him or not. She smiled, anyway, and Dumbledore dodge around Norbert to have a seat.

"He's a magnificent specimen, Hagrid," the Headmaster commented. "Wherever did you come across him?"

Hagrid couldn't meet the Headmaster's eyes. "Won 'im," he said. "I won the egg in a card game down at the Hog's Head."

Whitney, accustomed to terse conversations, inserted herself into this one. "Hagrid was thinking maybe Ron's brother in Romania. That way he might visit sometimes."

Professor Dumbledore, who hadn't apparently expected Whitney to speak up, looked over at her behind his spectacles, a bemused expression on his face. "We could ask," he agreed.

"Hagrid's not going to get into trouble, is he?" Whitney asked, looking a little worried. "He did the right thing in the end, right?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Oh, no one's in trouble here. I'm afraid that Hagrid's going to be Groundskeeper at Hogwarts for a long time, yet," he told her, and Hagrid perked up a little at this. Whitney smiled in relief. She wasn't sure if she would have been able to handle the fact that she'd gotten someone fired from his job and kicked out of his home.

"Although, Miss Potter, Hagrid and I have a few arrangements to make for the departure of the young dragon in question," Professor Dumbledore said meaningfully, "and I'm sure that you have a Charms essay to finish."

Whitney blushed, aware that she was being dismissed in the most polite way possible so that the adults could speak. She nodded. "I'm sure I do," she answered, and then left for the castle.