Chapter 17: Dragon Rage

Another week passed. That Wednesday, since Harry had bombed a test in Charms and I insisted on making him study harder, Ron had elected himself to go and check in on Hagrid and Norbert. He borrowed Harry's invisibility cloak so he could go and come without being seen.

While Ron was gone, Harry and I went over the Charms test, quizzing him on the questions he missed.

Harry slouched in his chair by the fire, his Charms book lying open but untouched on the small table between us. I sat primarily on the opposite side, holding a piece of parchment with the test questions written out in neat rows. Outside, the wind howled against the castle walls, but inside, the common room was warm and quiet, as it was almost midnight.

"Alright, Harry," I said, tapping the parchment with my quill. "Let's go over the questions you missed on the test. Starting with this one: What's the incantation for the Levitation Charm?"

Harry groaned, leaning his head back. "Hermione, we just went over this."

"And yet, you still got it wrong," I pointed out, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice. "Come on, you know this one."

Harry sighed dramatically, but I could see him searching his mind. "Uh... Leviosa?"

"Not quite," I said, holding up a finger. "It's Wingardium Leviosa. You forgot the Wingardium. The first part is just as important as the rest. Without it, you won't get the feather to move."

"Fine, fine," Harry muttered, sitting up straighter. "Next one."

I raised my eyebrows but continued. "Alright, what's the wand movement for the Levitation Charm?"

"Swish and flick," Harry said confidently.

I smiled, pleased. "Good. Now, tell me why Wizard Baruffio ended up on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

Harry's expression went blank. "Uh..."

"Harry!" I said, exasperated. "We covered this just last week!"

"Because... he forgot the words?" Harry guessed, his brow furrowed.

"Not exactly," I said, shaking my head. "It's because he said 's' instead of 'f.' It's a classic example of how pronunciation is critical in spellcasting."

Harry grumbled under his breath, "Well, I don't plan on conjuring buffalo anytime soon."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "That's not the point, Harry. The point is precision. If you don't get it right, the consequences could be... unpredictable."

Harry waved a dismissive hand. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. Don't mess up or I'll summon a herd of farm animals."

I narrowed my eyes at him, but there was a flicker of amusement behind his stubbornness. "Alright, let's try this one. What's the spell for unlocking doors?"

Harry perked up, eager to redeem himself. "Oh! That's easy—Alohamora."

"Harry, it's Alohomora," I corrected, biting back a laugh. "Not... whatever you just said. You made it sound like some kind of tropical drink!"

Harry blinked, then let out a reluctant chuckle. "Alright, that was bad. You've got me there."

"Finally!" I said, laughing with him. "See? Studying isn't so bad."

"Yeah, yeah," Harry said, grinning. "But I'm still blaming you if I accidentally conjure a buffalo during class."

We both burst out laughing, and for the first time all evening, Harry seemed genuinely relaxed.

Eventually, Ron returned, looking a bit worse for wear.

"It fucking bit me!" he yelled as I ripped the cloak off of me and showed them my hand, which I had wrapped in a handkerchief that was now soaked with my blood. "I'm not going to be able to hold a quill for a week! I tell you, that dragon is the most horrible animal I've ever met! But the way Hagrid goes on about it, you'd think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit. When it bit me he told me off for frightening it. And when I left, he was singing it a lullaby."

I took the hankie off and took a look at his hand. I grimaced at the sight of the fang marks, it was already starting to swell a bit. Hopefully it wouldn't be infected. I was worried. Neosporen and rubbing alcohol was not going to fix this.

Suddenly we heard a tap at the window.

"It's Hedwig!" said Harry, hurrying to let her in. "She'll have Charlie's answer!"

We put our heads together to read the note.

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 next 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

We looked at one another.

"We've got the invisibility cloak," said Harry. "It shouldn't be too difficult. I think the cloaks big enough to cover two of us and Norbert."

"Fine. I truly don't care what we do, as long as we are rid of the bloody savage." Ron said, hissing through the pain.

"That's a right nasty bite," said Harry.

"Ya think?!"

Harry chuckled. "I'm going to bed. You coming up, Ron?"

"He will be up in a second." I said, answering for him. Harry shrugged and went up the stairs.

I took Ron by his good hand and led him over to the sofa, making him sit. I then conjured up bandages, a rag, and a basin with water, and took his sore hand. It must have been really tender, because he winced hard even at that little touch.

"Bloody hell!" He yelled.

"Be quiet and let me clean this Ronald."I said, gently snatching his hand back.

I dipped the rag in the warm water and then began to wipe the blood off of his hand, which had started to turn a ghastly but light looking purple.

"That does not look good." I sighed. "Do you think that you should go see Madam Pomfrey?"

"Absolutely not." Ron snapped. "This isn't a normal bite, Hermione. She will ask what bit me, and then more questions after that."

"You're right, that could be potentially bad." I said, wrapping the bandages around his hand. I tried my best to not think about the way that wound had looked. I needed to concentrate on helping, not hurling up my dinner.

"Did you learn this from a book?" Ron asked, watching me.

I shook my head. "I used to pretend my dolls were injured all the time. So I have had a lot of practice."

"What? You mean you didn't read about wrapping a bandage? You learned from actually having fun?" Ron joked.

I grinned as I finished my work. "Oh shut up." I said.

By the afternoon of the next day, Harry and I had had enough of Ron's stubbornness. His hand looked dreadful, swollen to twice its normal size and tinged with a sickly green color. Despite his protests, he could hardly move his fingers without wincing. When he started complaining about feeling queasy and lightheaded, we decided it was time to act.

"Come on, Ron," I said firmly, grabbing his uninjured arm while Harry took the other. "We're taking you to the hospital wing, and that's final."

"It's not that bad," Ron grumbled, though his voice was shaky.

"Not that bad?" Harry scoffed. "Your hand looks like it belongs to a troll."

"And Norbert's fangs are poisonous, Ron," I added, exasperated. "You're lucky you haven't keeled over yet."

With much grumbling and the occasional groan of pain, we managed to half-drag, half-carry him up to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey took one look at his hand and gasped. "Out! Both of you! Now!"

She didn't have to tell me twice. I practically shoved Harry out of the room, and the doors slammed shut behind us.

"Well, that was dramatic," Harry muttered, leaning against the stone wall outside the wing.

"He'll be fine," I said, though I couldn't stop glancing at the doors. "Madam Pomfrey knows what she's doing."

Harry didn't seem entirely convinced. "Still, Norbert's bite... what if she can't—?"

"She will," I interrupted. "And worrying about it won't help Ron or us."

We began walking back toward the common room, but it was still hours until dinner, and I could tell Harry's nerves were getting the better of him. He kept glancing at the hospital wing as though he wanted to burst back in.

"Let's do something to distract ourselves," I suggested, trying to lighten the mood. "What about a game of chess?"

Harry shook his head. "Ron's the chess master, not me. I'll just embarrass myself."

"Alright, then let's go over tomorrow's Herbology quiz," I said brightly. "I have my notes—"

"Hermione," Harry groaned. "It's bad enough without homework."

"Fine," I said with a sigh, "What would you like to do?"

Harry thought for a moment, then his face lit up. "What about that card trick Ron showed me last week? You know the one with the disappearing ace? He said you'd figured it out."

I couldn't help but smile. "You want to learn a card trick to impress Ron when he's better?"

"Why not?" Harry grinned. "Might cheer him up."

We found an empty nook by a sunny window, and I dug into my bag for a pack of cards I'd brought from home. As I showed Harry the trick, complete with exaggerated flourishes, he was utterly hopeless at first. But his determination was infectious, and we both burst into laughter when his "disappearing" ace flopped unceremoniously to the floor.

By the time the evening rolled around, we were both feeling much better. Ron was in capable hands, and we had something fun to share with him when he was feeling up to it.

"It's not just my hand." Ron whispered. to us, once we got back in the hospital wing to check on him. "Although that feels like it's about to fall off. Malfoy told Madam Pomfrey he wanted to borrow one of my books so he could come and have a go at me. He kept threatening to tell her what really bit me. I've told her it was a dog, but I don't think she believes me. I shouldn't have hit him at the Quidditch match, that's why he's doing this."

"It'll all be over at midnight on Saturday," I said, trying to provide a bit of comfort. I could tell he was really feeling horrible about this.

"Midnight on Saturday! Oh no oh no! I've just remembered! Charlie's letter was in that book Malfoy took, he's going to know we're getting rid of Norbert." He exclaimed in a loud whisper.

Madam Pomfrey shooed Harry and I off, saying that Ron needed sleep. I knew he was beating himself up inside for what he had let happen, but it was too late. Malfoy had probably seen the letter by now, so there was nothing we could do except figure out a way to increase our sneaking.

"It's too late to change the plan now," Harry told me firmly. His tone made it clear there was no room for debate. "We haven't got time to send Charlie another owl, and this could be our only chance to get rid of Norbert. We'll have to risk it. And we have got the invisibility cloak. Malfoy doesn't know about that."

I sighed, biting my lip. The plan still felt reckless, but Harry was resolute. I couldn't deny that I wanted Norbert gone as much as he did—it was just too dangerous to keep him at Hogwarts.

Hagrid's Farewell

When we reached Hagrid's hut, Fang was sitting outside, looking utterly miserable with his tail wrapped in a makeshift bandage. Whatever Norbert had been up to lately, it had left its mark on poor Fang.

"I won't let you in," Hagrid called through the window, puffing heavily. He opened it just a crack to peer at us. "Norbert's at a tricky stage—nothin' I can't handle."

The sound of something heavy crashing inside contradicted him, but before I could point that out, Harry explained about Charlie's letter. To our astonishment, Hagrid started crying.

"Oh, Hagrid, please don't cry…" I began, but I stopped short when Norbert banged his tail against the wall so hard the windows rattled.

"Aargh! It's all right, he only got my boot—jus' playin'—he's only a baby, after all," Hagrid winced, trying to reassure us, though the pained expression on his face said otherwise.

Harry and I exchanged a look as we turned back toward the castle. Saturday couldn't come soon enough.

When Saturday finally arrived, the castle felt eerily quiet. Ron, unfortunately, couldn't come. His hand was still significantly swollen, plus he had developed a small infection, and Madam Pomfrey insisted on keeping him in the hospital wing another night. He wasn't too upset, though, just mildly disappointed that he wouldn't get to see Charlie.

Harry and I made our way to Hagrid's hut under the cover of darkness, the invisibility cloak stuffed in Harry's bag. Peeves delayed us again, his antics in the entrance hall forcing us to take a longer route. By the time we arrived, Hagrid had Norbert packed into a large wooden crate.

"He's got lots o' rats an' some brandy fer the journey," Hagrid sniffled, his face red and blotchy from crying. "An' I packed his teddy bear in case he gets lonely."

The crate rattled ominously as Norbert thrashed about. "Bye-bye, Norbert!" Hagrid sobbed as Harry and I threw the invisibility cloak over the crate. "Mommy will never forget you!"

I almost felt bad for Hagrid, but the sheer weight of the crate, and the urgency of our mission, kept me focused.

"Let's go," I whispered to Harry, and together, we began the long, arduous trek to the tallest tower.

Carrying Norbert up the marble staircase was like wrestling with a crate full of angry fireworks. The dragon banged and thrashed, threatening to tip us over more than once. My arms ached, and sweat dripped down my back despite the cool night air.

"Nearly there!" Harry panted as we reached the corridor beneath the tallest tower.

Suddenly, movement ahead stopped us in our tracks. Forgetting we were invisible, we shrank into the shadows, watching as two figures grappled in the darkness. Then, a lamp flared, revealing the unmistakable figure of Professor McGonagall in a tartan bathrobe and hairnet. She had Malfoy by the ear, and the sight was so absurd I nearly laughed.

"Detention!" she barked. "And twenty points from Slytherin! Wandering around in the middle of the night, how dare you—"

"But Professor, Harry Potter's got a dragon!" Malfoy whined desperately.

"What utter rubbish!" McGonagall snapped. "How dare you tell such lies! Come on—I shall see Professor Snape about you, Malfoy!"

As she marched him off, I turned to Harry with a grin. "Malfoy's got detention! I could sing!"

"Don't," Harry advised, though he was grinning too.

When we finally reached the tower, I was ready to collapse. We threw off the invisibility cloak, and I stretched my aching arms, savoring the cool night air. Moments later, four broomsticks descended from the sky, their riders silhouetted against the moonlight.

Charlie Weasley landed first. He was tall, though not as tall as the twins, with broad shoulders and a stocky build that spoke of years of hard work. His long red hair was tied back in a ponytail, and a dragon fang earring dangled from one ear. A faint claw mark on his forearm hinted at the dangers of his job. Despite his rugged appearance, his smile was warm and disarming, reminding me of Fred and George.

"Blimey," he said, his voice deep and cheerful. "You weren't kidding, Hagrid's gone and got himself a Norwegian Ridgeback."

Charlie's friends were equally jovial, chatting as they rigged up the harness to suspend Norbert between their broomsticks. Harry and I helped secure the crate, flinching whenever the dragon let out a particularly loud roar.

"Thanks for this," Charlie said, shaking Harry's hand. "You've saved Hagrid a lot of trouble. Mum would've had kittens if she knew, but he'll be safe with us."

As the broomsticks rose into the air, Norbert's crate swaying gently between them, I felt a wave of relief. At last, the dragon was gone.

We descended the spiral staircase, lighthearted for the first time in weeks.

"No more dragon, Malfoy in detention—what could possibly go wrong?" I said with a laugh.

As it turned out, quite a lot.

At the bottom of the stairs, a pale face loomed out of the shadows. Filch.

"Well, well, well," he whispered, his voice dripping with malice. "We are in trouble."

My heart sank as Harry and I froze in place. And that's when I realized, with a sinking feeling, that we'd left the invisibility cloak at the top of the tower.