XI. Everything in This Chapter Is Illegal

You know when you hate someone so much that their sole existence annoys you? Like how when they do even the smallest thing, such as scratch their head, or blink, or breath, you immediately want to set them on fire?

I think that's how Quirrell felt about me.

Whenever Harry, Ron, or Hermione passed Quirrell in the hallway, he would offer them an encouraging smile, an offer of friendship, almost. But whenever I entered the picture, he would ignore me or sometimes even give me a subtle side-eye. He obviously wanted me dead.

The good part about Quirrell was that he definitely hasn't cracked yet. Weeks passed, yet Snape became gradually more frustrated and Quirrell became gradually more stressed—but the latter didn't show any sign of guilt. Snape must have been putting more and more pressure on Quirrell to give him information, but couldn't get anything out of him. I worried that Snape might blackmail poor Quirrell, too.

I had successfully been able to distract myself from my newfound Snape-phobia by preparing for the upcoming exams with Hermione. Instead of being anxious about Snape, I was anxious about the tests! I hadn't slept in three days and the only food and drink I'd had were water, garlic bread, and no less than seventeen cups of coffee. A healthy system, right?

"Why are you two studying already?" Ron asked one evening. "The exams are forever away."

"Two weeks," Hermione corrected. "That's a second to Nicolas Flamel."

"We aren't six hundred years old, Hermione," Harry responded.

"What are you even studying for?" Ron questioned. "You already know it all—"

"'What are we studying for?'" Hermione repeated. "We need to pass these tests to get into second year! I should've started studying a month ago, I don't know what's gotten into me…"

Harry sighed. "They're not even that important—"

"They're extremely important," I argued. "They're going to determine our entire futures! If I don't pass these, I'm going to have to retake first year, and I'll be the only the twelve-year-old there—on top of everyone thinking I'm a serial killer—and then I'll never get a good job because no one wants to hire someone who can't even get through first year! And then I'll end up living on the streets all because I couldn't pass my final exams! Do you want to end up living on the streets, Harry? Do you?"

"I think it's time you get some sleep—"

"Sleep is for the weak," I muttered.

Eventually, Harry and Ron joined Hermione and my study sessions, but only because we made them. The homework the teachers piled on us seemed to grow every day, and the only way to get Harry and Ron to do it was by force. The sessions seemed never-ending to me. Hermione, on the other hand, showed no sign of wanting to quit, and her focus never seemed to waver. I couldn't help but wonder how she did it.

"I'll never remember this," Ron grimaced one afternoon, exasperated.

"That's what these are for," I said, sliding a pack of flashcards I'd made the previous night towards him. He looked as if he wanted to drive a knife through my chest.

"Oh, hi, Hagrid!" Harry said, making me look up from my copy of Magical Theory.

"What are you doing in the library?" I asked.

Hagrid quickly put the books he was carrying behind his back so we couldn't see the titles. "Just… browsin'." His expression changed from worrisome to suspicious. "You four aren' still lookin' for Nicolas Flamel, are yeh? I told yeh to drop it—"

"We're not," Harry assured to Hagrid's relief.

"We already figured it out," Hermione said. Hagrid's face fell.

"We know what the dog's guarding, too," Ron added. "It's a Sorcerer's St—"

"SHHHHH!" Hagrid said urgently.

"What happened to our code word, Ron?" I asked.

"Sorry, I mean the Philosopher's Stone—"

"That's an awful code word," Hagrid mumbled.

"We just wanted to ask you about some things," I said. "Like what's guarding the St—"

"SHHHHHH!" Hagrid lowered his voice. "Look, come an' see me this evenin'. I can' promise yeh anythin', mind, but don' go shoutin' the name in here. Students aren' supposed ter know." Hagrid hustled away, still hiding the books behind his back.

"What was he hiding?" Harry asked.

"Some books, and I think he got them from here." I began rummaging the shelf where Hagrid was "browsing" before. Every single book I pulled from the shelf had "Dragon" in the title. "He was researching dragons!"

"He's always wanted one," Harry said.

"But they're illegal!" Ron argued. "Everyone knows that dragon breeding was banned in the Warlocks' Convention of 1709. And you can't tame a dragon, either. You should see the burns Charlie has from the wild ones in Romania."

Hermione looked worried at this. "There aren't wild dragons in Britain, though, right?"

"Of course there are," Ron said. "Common Welsh Green and Hebridean Blacks."

"But Hagrid wouldn't keep a dragon if it was illegal, would he?"

"There's only one way to find out," Harry said.

Later that evening, we went straight down to Hagrid's hut, bubbling with questions. He let us in, but seemed a bit jittery. He knew we were going to ask him more about the Stone.

"So, yeh wanted to ask me somethin'?"

"We just wanted to know what's guarding the Stone," Harry said. "Apart from Fluffy."

"I can' tell you," Hagrid said flatly. "I don't know the answer meself, and besides, if I did, I'd be betrayin' Dumbledore!"

"Come on, Hagrid," said Hermione, who was—batting her eyelashes? "Of course you know everything that goes on around here since you're Dumbledore's favorite… we just want to know who he would trust other than you."

Was she… flirting with Hagrid?

Hermione sent me a look saying 'what happens in Hagrid's hut stays in Hagrid's hut.'

Hagrid's cheeks were flushed with red and a smile refused to leave his face. "Well, it wouldn' hurt to tell yeh a little," he beamed. "I brough' in Fluffy, o' course, and Dumbledore did summat of his own… and then some o' the teachers did enchantments: Professor McGonagall, Professor Quirrell, Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout, Professor Trelawney, and Professor Snape."

"Snape?!" all four of us exclaimed.

"Not this again," Hagrid sighed. "Snape wouldn' try an' steal the Stone, he's one o' the people protectin' it."

"He's only protecting it so no one suspects him," I countered, remembering how determined he was to know how to get past Fluffy. "And look how well it's working."

Harry gave me a suspicious look. "Are you sure you're not a serial killer?"

"Positive," I muttered, glaring at Harry. "But Snape doesn't know how to get past Fluffy… right?"

"Not a soul knows 'cept me an' Dumbledore," Hagrid said with certainty.

"Hagrid, can we open a window?" Hermione said. "I'm boiling."

Hagrid's certainty turned into nervous, guilty laughter. "Sorry, can't…" He glanced over at the fireplace, which was holding a large black egg.

Ron must have seen it, too. "Hagrid, what's—what's that?"

"That's, er… er…" Hagrid's voice trailed off.

The pieces clicked together. It was a dragon egg.

Ron burst into questions. "Where did you get it? Must've cost you a fortune…"

"Won it from a game o' cards with a stranger," Hagrid explained. "Think he was quite glad ter be rid of it. Norwegian Ridgeback, he is."

"Hagrid, you live in a wooden house," Hermione worried, but Hagrid wasn't listening.

We went to Hagrid's house every day that week to check on the dragon egg. We were all worried about what would happen if Hagrid was caught with an illegal pet, but also secretly anticipating the hatching of the egg. When the egg did hatch, though, Harry, Ron, and Hermione didn't seem as excited about it as I was.

"Almos' there, almos' there," Hagrid kept mumbling until the egg finally cracked open, revealing a small, black Norwegian Ridgeback. His head was almost too big for his body, and his eyes were almost too big for his head. His wings fluttered, but he only ended up falling on his face. He was adorable.

I mentally named him Norbert. He just had one of those Norbert faces.

"Awwwwww!" I exclaimed, unable to hold it in. Ron and Hermione respectively looked disgusted and worried, and I think Harry let out a "Eugh!" but hid it behind a smile.

"What's wrong with you guys?" I continued. "Isn't he beautiful?"

"Um, yeah," Harry lied.

"Hagrid, exactly how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow?" Hermione wondered, but, once again, Hagrid wasn't listening. He was petting Norbert, who kept snapping at his fingers with his long, sharp fangs.

"Can I hold him?" I asked, earning a disgusted look from Ron.

"Sure yeh can," Hagrid said, handing me the dragon. I could've sworn Norbert smiled when I stroked his scaly skin. And he didn't try to bite my fingers. What a good boy.

Suddenly, Hagrid's gaze fixed on the window, panicked. "Who was that?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all ran up to the window, looking to the right.

"Malfoy!" they shouted in unison.

"What about him?" I asked.

"He—he saw the dragon," Hagrid said, his voice trembling.

"Oh, what are we going to do?" Hermione worried. "Malfoy's going to report the dragon, and it's going to be taken away… or worse…"

"Don't listen to them, Norbert," I comforted.

"Norbert?"

"I think it's a very fitting name."

"Norbert," Hagrid said, testing out the name. "I like it! Don't yeh like it, Hermione?"

"Sure," she said, offering a fake smile. "But it doesn't matter what you name it, because you have to set it free."

"Set it free?" Hagrid repeated astoundedly. "He's too little, he'll die!"

"Couldn't you take him back to the village and lose him in another game of cards?" I suggested.

"I can't jus' dump him like that, I can't."

Harry's face lit up. "Ron, doesn't your brother take care of dragons?"

"Yeah, Charlie."

"We could write to him!" Harry suggested. "He could take care of Norbert and then put him back in the wild! That way we could be sure he's in good hands. How does that sound, Hagrid?"

It wasn't an easy task to convince Hagrid to let go of his favorite pet, but after some reassurance, he agreed to the plan.

Now not only did we have to worry about exams and the Stone, we had to worry about getting this illegal dragon illegally transported to Romania. We couldn't focus on our studying because we were too busy anticipating an answer from Charlie. And even I had forgotten about Snape.

Norbert seemed to grow a foot longer every time we went to visit. He could now swallow three dead rats at once, and Hagrid needed help to feed him every night. I was always happy to help, and the others took turns going with me. Ron usually came up with some excuse to get out of it, like "I have to do my Potions essay" or "I'm feeling a bit sick," but tonight Harry and Hermione forced him to go in their stead.

"Couldn't you have asked Hermione?" he complained as we walked down to Hagrid's hut under the Invisibility Cloak. "I have to study for Transfiguration, she knows it all already—"

"Maybe you should've done that instead of binge-eating Bertie Bott's, then," I retorted.

"Maybe Hagrid shouldn't have won that dragon in the first place," he muttered.

Ron barely helped. He stayed by my side so it would look like we were working together, but it was evident that he wanted to be anywhere but Hagrid's hut.

"Aren't you going to help, Ron?" I urged, tossing Norbert another rat.

"Charlie would be proud o' yeh if yeh did," Hagrid said.

Ron grimaced. "I'm not touching a dead rat, okay?"

"Yes, you are," I stated.

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are—"

"Drop it, would yeh?" Hagrid said. "Ron, if yeh don't wanna help, yer free to go back."

Ron blushed with guilt. "Fine, I'll help."

"You were doing just fine by yourself," he whispered through gritted teeth, kneeling down next to me. "Why can't the stupid animal just eat on his—OW!"

Apparently, Norbert didn't take the words "stupid animal" kindly. His fangs sunk straight into Ron's hand, leaving bite marks that were slowly turning green.

"Serves you right," I muttered.

"Oh, this is awful!" Ron whined. "Norwegian Ridgebacks are poisonous!"

"Venomous," I corrected.

"My word choice is the least of our problems right now!"

"Stop it, you two!" Hagrid shouted. "Yer scaring Norbert! Now take some bandages and out, both o' yeh!" He handed us a roll of gauze and we left, our faces red. I took a teacup from one of the shelves on the wall without either Ron or Hagrid noticing. It relieved my embarrassment, but not my anger.

"Good job, Ron," I said. "Now Hagrid's mad at us because of you."

Ron didn't have a comeback, but refused to admit Norbert was in the right. "Just shut up and bandage my hand, okay?"

"Fine." I wrapped the bandage around the swelling bump Norbert had left.

Then, I remembered the bandages on my own arm. I had been wearing them for years to cover up the Dark Mark. The Dark Mark was a tattoo of a snake with a skull for a head that Voldemort used to brand his followers, and I'd had it for as long as I could remember. Lucius, Narcissa, and a good chunk of their friends had it, and they were proud of it. But I was ashamed. Mine was covered in scratches, some red and fresh and others faded, where I had tried to get rid of it. I didn't want to be reminded that I was destined to be a murderer every time I looked down at my left arm. That's why I covered it up.

I pulled up my sleeve and saw that the bandages were worn.

"Well, I need new ones anyway," I mumbled to myself. But could I replace them here, in front of Ron? What would he think of me when he saw I had the Dark Mark? Of course, he already knew I was Voldemort's daughter, but the fact that there's still a piece of him engraved into my skin is a different level of awful.

"New what?" Ron asked."What happened to your arm?"

"Just don't look." I turned away from him as I unraveled the old bandages.

"Is —is that the Dark Mark?" Ron questioned, his eyes wide.

"I said don't look, Ron."

"I know, but… is it?"

I put the new bandages around the Mark to stall answering.

"Yeah, it is," I finally admitted. "I didn't want it though… I think he gave it to me when I was a baby… I don't know, I'm sorry—"

"Why are you apologizing?"

"For who I am," I said, unable to stop myself. "My father is the reason that Harry's parents are dead, and countless others—and he terrorized the wizarding world for years—and he—he started a war, Ron. And I'm what's left of him."

"But you're not him," Ron consoled. "You didn't ask for that mark. You didn't ask for any of it. He killed and terrorized those people. Not you."

"You really think that?"

"Of course I do," Ron chuckled. "Plus, you're ten times scarier than him."

"Thanks," I said, lightly hitting him on the shoulder. He put the Invisibility Cloak around us as we walked back towards the castle. "Please don't tell Harry and Hermione about the Mark," I quickly added.

"I won't," Ron said, "as long as you admit I didn't deserve that dragon bite."

"Fine," I grumbled. "You didn't."

I couldn't have had a better friend than Ron in that moment. Even it he was a bit of an arse at times.

By the next day, we had a plan. Charlie had written back saying to meet his friends on the Astronomy Tower at midnight on Saturday. There, we would give them the dragon and all would be well.

But all was not well. Ron's hand was swelling by the minute, and it became so painful that he had no choice but to go to Madam Pomfrey. He lied and said it was a dog bite, but she seemed a bit skeptical. Luckily, she didn't ask questions.

When we went to see him that evening, we found yet another thing to worry about.

"Malfoy came up here to taunt me," Ron said. "He said he needed to borrow a book from me just so he could laugh at me. He kept threatening to tell Madam Pomfrey what really bit me."

"Don't worry," Hermione said. "It'll all be over at midnight on Saturday."

"Midnight on Saturday!" Ron exclaimed, bolting upright in his bed. "I forgot… Charlie's note was in the book Malfoy took! Oh no, he'll go to Dumbledore, we'll all be expelled, Hagrid'll lose his job…"

"I can talk to Draco," I offered, which didn't seem to impress the other three. "And by talk to him, I mean threaten to drown him in the Great Lake if he says a word about this," I added.

"Don't," Harry said. "That would only make it worse. Besides, we have the Invisibility Cloak. Malfoy doesn't know about that."

"Let's hope so," I worried.

It wasn't easy for Hagrid to say goodbye to Norbert. He had packed him in a crate full of rats and his teddy bear in case he gets lonely.

"Bye, Norbert!" Hagrid cried, tears rolling down his face. "Mummy loves you!"

Even with the strength of Harry, Hermione, and me combined, carrying the crate up the never-ending staircase was quite a challenge. We had to stop to catch our breath after every other step. It wasn't until we were almost to the Astronomy Tower that we heard voices.

"You don't understand, Professor!" squeaked a small voice that unmistakebly belonged to Draco. We froze. "Harry Potter's coming, he's bringing a dragon—"

"Nonsense!" came McGonagall's stern tone. "Detention! And twenty points from Slytherin! I'll have to see Professor Snape about you and your lying…"

We saw McGonagall's figure drag off Draco, and we waited a full twenty seconds before we began moving again. Once we made it to the Astronomy Tower, we threw the Invisibility Cloak off and burst out laughing.

"Malfoy's got detention!" Hermione exclaimed. "I could sing!"

"Don't," Harry and I said quickly.

A few minutes later, Charlie's friends swooped down to the tower on their broomsticks and greeted us with cheerful faces. They didn't seem at all surprised or scared when they saw me. Either they didn't recognize me or they were decent people.

They showed Harry, Hermione, and I a harness they had rigged up to help transport Norbert. We helped them buckle in Norbert safely, and then thanked them as they mounted their brooms and flew away with the dragon.

I was a bit sad that Norbert was gone, but it was a great relief to know that he was someone else's problem now. So, I joined Harry and Hermione in their quiet laughter as we made our way back down the winding staircase.

Suddenly, we saw a light shine in front of us. A lamp being held by the last person we wanted to see that night.

"Well, well, well," Filch whispered. "Aren't we in trouble?"

We had left the Invisibility Cloak on the Astronomy Tower.