Matthew was hidden away in the corner of the common room, taking it in turns to scribble away in his notebook and on a piece of parchment that would end up being a potions essay. With the way his brain worked, whirring away at fantastical speeds, he often found it easier to comprehend his own thoughts when he was doing two things at once. He wasn't in his usual spot, which was the first sign any onlooker would have picked up on that not all was right with the Gryffindor. He just didn't feel like being noticed and, thankfully, no one was paying him any attention as they focused on their lives instead. Harry was...somewhere. He didn't tend to keep a track of him all the time. It was good to have some freedom, even away from friends. Then again, he'd been alone for so long that maybe he was just reverting to type, afraid of what would happen if he exposed himself too much. It was safer in the corner, where he could get his work done and go about his business and remain shut off from the rest of the world. That was always the safest bet.

Looking into the Mirror of Erised had caused him to become slightly more reserved than usual. Less boisterous, some would put it. He often liked to stand out, which wasn't difficult with his personality, but he always didn't mind being the person in the shadows that everyone forgot about eventually. Matthew called it being multifaceted. Some would call it contradictory, that one need would eventually have to outmuscle the other. Only time would tell which path he would end up choosing. What he had seen in the mirror had been a reminder of what he'd lost, a reminder of what he'd been before Hogwarts. It had been easy over the first few months to get carried away, to pretend that he was normal. He had enjoyed it, revelling in the fact that no one knew his background. Of course, that had led to difficulties, mainly the pointed questions he was sometimes faced with. Especially from a certain girl, who he hated lying to. But it was safer to lie, safer to remain in the shadows...because then you didn't get hurt.

He hadn't told Harry what he'd seen. He wouldn't understand. And he hadn't asked so there was truly no reason to bring it up. It could become just another secret. Matthew didn't think that Harry had picked up on any change in his demeanour but maybe his friend had been as scared to ask as he was to answer. Harry hadn't had friends before, Matthew hadn't in a very long time. There was almost a mutual agreement without any words being exchanged that it was better if they avoided the doubts that crept in their minds. Now, if Hermione had been with them when they'd discovered the mirror, it would have been a whole different matter. She would have been too focused on finding out all the information she could, which would have made the questions fired at him inevitable. And, for a reason he couldn't quite put a finger on, Matthew was finding it much more difficult to hide himself from her. The issue with that was obvious - he'd waited so long to reveal that side of him that there was no chance she would trust him afterwards. And Harry would be just as hurt, what with him asking incisive questions more frequently, such as about his knowledge of Nicolas Flamel. No, to keep them from getting hurt, and to keep himself from suffering that same fate, it was so much better to go about the day as if everything was normal.

"What are you doing over here?" a familiar voice asked him and he dropped his quill in shock. "I go for a few weeks and you change your preferred table." Hermione had appeared out of nowhere, the first time he'd seen her since she'd departed. She wore a large smile that somehow spread onto his face too. How she'd spotted him amongst the steadily growing crowd in the common room, he didn't quite know. But he found himself to be happy that she had managed it. All thoughts of the mirror, of the vision, left his head in a flash and he stood up abruptly, accidentally scraping the chair against the stone floor.

"You're back!" he said, which was silly. Of course she was. Otherwise she wouldn't be standing in front of him at that precise moment. His ability to come up with intelligent and coherent sentences really had left him recently.

Hermione nodded her head before seemingly debating something internally. Then, much to Matthew's surprise, she closed the distance between them and hugged him. It was just as tight as the one she'd given him before leaving, which had left him oddly cold when it had ended. She was good at hugging, a thought that he shouldn't be having. He pinned it on the fact that no one had hugged him in a long while. She had the knack for doing things he was never properly prepared for, always leaving him on the backfoot. If he was a more suspicious person, he would have believed she enjoyed doing that. But that wasn't the case. As he held her, for a suitable length of time for a hug between friends, he realised that she was doing it because - believe it or not - she had missed him. And that was something he also hadn't experienced.

"Thank you so much for my present," she whispered into his ear. "The Intricacies and Peculiarities of Wizarding Society. I don't know how you knew I wanted that. Or how you managed to get it. It's a very rare and expensive book."

"I have my ways," Matthew replied evasively, before disentangling himself and finding his seat once more. Slightly put out that the embrace had been cut short, she copied his action, thinking he was just being enigmatic as usual.

"But thank you. It means a lot, more than you can imagine. It did result in my parents asking some certain questions as to why a boy would be buying me gifts…" She let that hang in the air, hoping he'd fill in the gaps. She was too embarrassed to say it herself, the memory of how red her cheeks had gone during that conversation coming back to the forefront of her mind.

"Oh really?" His eyes were dancing with mirth now. "And what did you say? That they should be happy that such a talented, intelligent and roguishly handsome boy has taken an interest in you?"

She hit him on the arm. "I think my father might have collapsed if I'd said that. I've already told them about you and Harry in the letters I send them, so it can't have come as too big a surprise."

Matthew's eyebrows raised noticeably. "You write about us? Just wait until I tell Harry this!"

Hermione's cheeks were burnt red once more. "What do you expect? They kept wanting to know if I'd made friends. They had to put up with so much when I was in primary school...they were so happy in their reply when I mentioned you and Harry."

"Who do you talk about more? Not like it's a competition but...it's me, isn't it? I promise I won't gloat."

"I'll say that it's equal, if only to keep your bloated ego in check."

"I know what that implies," he said. "That I'm the winner."

"Whatever you want to tell yourself. If you want to lie , I can't stop you."

Matthew let out a bark of laughter, feeling so at ease. The past few days, full of silent struggle, were feeling like a distant memory. "Oh, I have missed you, Hermione." And it was true. Scarily so. This wasn't the plan. He wasn't supposed to get attached again. Because doing that only brought pain. But was the risk of pain worth it for moments like this? The small, inconsequential moments that made a life glorious.

Her eyes dropped to the table but he could definitely see a small smile sneak on her face. He realised that she must have been as new to that sensation as he was. "I will admit that it's been strange, being back in the normal world. The troubling thing is that I'm starting to see this life as the normal one, not what I grew up in. And I think that my mum and dad can sense that there's a risk of me leaving them behind."

"Did you enjoy seeing them again?"

"Of course! I've never been separated from them before, especially for this long. It's a strange experience for all of us. But it was nice to fall back into that life, even if I might not want it forever."

"Then I don't think they'll be truly worried. As long as you want to see them, there's no problem. Trust me...don't ever take that for granted."

She was unsure as to what he meant by that and she opened her mouth, hoping to use this opportunity to get him to speak about his past. But then she saw his face, how the glimmer in his eyes had dimmed, and chose to not press the topic. There would be better times to broach that matter, not when she had just got back. "The fact that I couldn't perform any magic was frustrating. My parents kept asking to see something but, obviously, I wasn't going to break the law."

Matthew was surprised that she hadn't said anything after his throwaway comment but was glad she hadn't. It made him feel more comfortable, increasing the chance that he'd say more in the future. "And here I thought that we were succeeding in making you a rule breaker. This is what happens when you go away. Nope, you'll just have to stay by our side forever, to ensure your character stays corrupted."

"Is that your grand scheme? To turn me into a rebel like you?"

"I can't make you do anything that you don't want to. And I get the odd sense that you want to be a bit more mischievous. There's no point hiding it. I know that face."

"You've only known me a few months," Hermione protested.

"I'm just that good," he instantly replied with his typical assuredness. She wished that she possessed that quality. Perhaps being more like him wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

"Then let's make a deal. I'll allow myself to sometimes think like you. I'll even listen to your ideas, if they're not too crazy."

"I'm liking the sound of this so far. But what do I have to do?"

"Firstly, be a bit more open with me. Even in relaxed conversations like this, I can tell you're holding back...something. I'd like to find out what that is, when you're comfortable enough to do so."

That was what he'd been afraid of. Revealing details about himself was the first step along the road to heartbreak. But wasn't the journey still worth it? And she hadn't pressed him on it when she could have done so didn't she deserve something in return? "I'll consider it. But there's another condition, I'm guessing."

Hermione was smiling victoriously. Even getting him to think about it was more than she'd achieved up to this point. "Of course there is. You're not allowed to complain when I introduce you and Harry to my revision schedule. Which starts tomorrow."

xxxxxxxxxx

When Hermione eventually found Harry and told him the same news, he had wanted to jump in the lake and live with the giant squid instead. He and Matthew had hoped that she would at least ease them into this routine but, as soon as they were in the library, the young girl they'd grown to be friends with turned into something even scarier than the dog guarding the Philosopher's Stone. She had already written out a schedule, detailed to the minute. She had mapped out the quickest routes to get to certain books they would need. When Harry brought up the fact, after he'd lost a game of rock, paper, scissors to Matthew, that it was only January and that they had plenty of time to revise, she had thrown a ruler dangerously close to his head. For the first day, they chose to appease her, more out of a wish to maintain their general safety rather than a pressing thirst to learn.

It was when Hermione was even bringing books with her to the evening meals when they started to get worried. She would be absentmindedly spooning mashed potato into her mouth as she flicked through countless pages, sometimes missing the desired target. Even Ron, notorious for his bad eating habits, had brought it up, a clear indicator that they needed to do something for her own mental wellbeing. What hadn't helped was, after three evenings of the same pattern, Matthew slammed down his cutlery and told her to put her work down for once, stating that she wouldn't miss out on anything over the half an hour it took to look after herself. Both of them had remained quiet after that, leaving Harry in the awkward position of trying to create conversation with two people who wanted to avoid that. He'd eventually given up, turning to Neville instead, who had been stunned that the other boy had paid him any attention. Harry felt guilty for that, vowing to do better. His friends' current behaviour had reminded him that he couldn't rely on them all the time.

By the weekend, not a great deal had changed. Hermione had stopped revising when they ate, which Matthew had thanked her for, ending their short feud. But the work didn't stop. If anything, she had been trying to make up for that lost time with even more vigorous study in the library. She would read and write at the same time, her hands growing dirty with ink. Harry's brain felt like it was melting. Even if he had somewhat changed his ways, becoming more interested in the academic side of things, this was far too much. And Matthew, who shared the same tendencies as Hermione, appeared to be suffering as well, his mood growing sourer by the day. It was just a good job that Malfoy had kept his distance since the start of the new term, otherwise there would have been no telling what Matthew would have done to him.

The table they sat at in the library was now known to be theirs, since they'd practically lived there the past week. Harry had suggested that they let Hermione study on her own for one evening, but Matthew, putting his own needs to the back of his mind, had disagreed. At the moment, their presence was the only thing stopping her from burning out and he wasn't about to start slacking. He sat and watched her work, her hand furiously trying to keep up with the pace her brain was going. He was surprised that it hadn't fallen off already, stubbornly refusing to give in. Almost as stubborn as the person it belonged to. Matthew looked down at his own notes, knowing that there was no point in doing anymore. Harry had stopped at least ten minutes ago, though he'd been pretending to work so as not to get her ire aimed at him, which was probably more work than actually doing the revision.

Matthew snapped his book closed with a satisfying crack. The sound made both of them jump and he expected Madam Pince to come barging round the corner at any second to reprimand him for the poor use of her precious books.

Hermione put her quill down, looking at him. "Is everything okay?"

"I don't need to do any more of this. I know the deal was that I wasn't supposed to complain but I've had enough." He even folded his arms to make his point even clearer.

She just frowned. "That sort of mindset will only cost you when it comes to exams. For all you know, taking it easy will mean you forget one crucial point and then you'll be in trouble, won't you?"

"But that's not going to happen, is it? Because I already know all of this stuff! I've known it since the first time I looked at this book, which feels like a lifetime ago, by the way. And you know it too! So I don't understand why we're working so hard."

"Do you feel the same way, Harry?"

The boy in question looked suitably fearful that attention had been placed on him. Whatever he said, he risked upsetting one of his best friends. He'd either leave Matthew on his own when he knew fully well that he agreed, or he'd risk making Hermione feel bad about her behaviour. He'd rather they stopped talking again. At least then he wasn't caught in the crossfires of their heated debate.

"I...I...do think that we could...relax a little bit more. We're not even in February yet and I feel as if I've reread the same notes at least twenty times over. I thought learning would be fun but it's not when it's like this."

"I see," she said quietly. She was no longer able to meet their gaze, her eyes downcast and pointed towards the table. She was fiddling with the quill, messing up the feather and picking at it. She'd normally see such an act as a crime but she didn't know what else to do in the moment, with their eyes firmly set on her. Hermione wanted to crawl up into a ball and hide away. Had she done it again? Had she been too full on and inadvertently forced people away from her? She was surprised when a hand went on top of hers, stopping her from damaging the quill too much. She looked up and found Matthew had come to her side of the table, gazing at her.

"We're just worried about you," he told her as softly as he could. "We don't know why you're pushing yourself so much when we know that you're already brilliant. You could ace any test put in front of you right now without looking at another book. So we're confused as to why you're so stressed about it."

"What if I fail?" she asked in a small voice. "I don't want to lose this part of me because I didn't work hard enough."

"That's what you're worried about?" Harry responded. "You work harder than anyone in our year! There's no chance that you'll fail."

"But revising will mean there's less chance of that possibility, so surely it's a good thing."

"Not when it's going to wear you out well before exams come around. Even you, as amazing as you are, have your limits." Matthew squeezed her hand. "Even I do, and that's saying something." He was delighted to see that she laughed ever so slightly. "I...we...have every faith in your abilities. It's just a matter of you having that same belief. For now...how about we take our foot off the pedal? That's not to say we'll stop completely, before you say anything. But we could have a study session...once every week, where we'll let you take charge and everything. That's a lot healthier than what you want to do right now."

"That sounds like a good plan," she admitted. "I'm...sorry I put you through all that. It's just what I did back in primary. I didn't have anyone to tell me to stop so it's a good thing I have you around."

"As long as you keep thinking that, we're going to be fine." Matthew gave her one of his trademark winks and sat back down, only noticing now that Harry wasn't completely paying attention. He silently gestured to Hermione to keep quiet as he touched the tip of his wand to a quill, making it float in the air with a whispered incantation (at least Hermione thought he'd said the correct spell). It started tickling Harry's face - he swatted at it like it was an annoying fly, before realising what was going on.

"Sorry...it's just...Hagrid's come into the library and handed in some books. I'm sure he left with a new pile too. He's been in here just as much as us these past few weeks. Why would he need to be reading so much?"

"I hadn't really noticed he'd been visiting so much," Hermione said.

"I wonder why," Matthew grumbled good naturedly, causing her to smile apologetically.

Harry suddenly got up from his chair and wandered over to the Librarian's desk, where Hagrid's stack of books had been left. The other two watched in fascination as he scanned the covers, picking up one and checking another, before a clear pattern became visible. And his face went pale. He rushed back to their table even more quickly, his friends waiting for an explanation for his behaviour.

"Dragons! They're all about dragons. You don't think that…" He couldn't even say it. Surely their giant friend wouldn't be so foolish.

xxxxxxxxxx

"Don't you think that this counts as...I don't know...an invasion of his privacy?" Hermione worried as they made the long trek down to Hagrid's hut. Despite January almost being behind them, the air was still bitingly cold and they were forced to hold their cloaks shut tightly to maintain a semblance of warmth. The ground still had snow covering it, slowing their progress as they tried their best to keep to the path, which was completely hidden. Hermione wore a red woolly hat to keep her head warm - when she had suggested the boys do the same, Matthew had complained that they messed up his chic haircut (which was still as short as ever).

"How so?" Harry asked. "The way I see it, all we're doing is looking out for a friend. He'd do the same for us if he thought we were in trouble."

"But we don't know he's in trouble. All we know is that he's been reading about a certain topic. He might just have an interest. We already know how much he loves animals. He might think that we've been spying on him."

" We haven't been spying on him. Harry has," Matthew reminded her, tapping her on the forehead. "We're just tagging along for the ride. Harry can do all the explaining, if it comes to that. I don't know what you're expecting to find. It's not as if he's going to have a pet dragon inside there, waiting for us."

Harry paused before knocking on the door. There was a commotion inside, the sound of someone big clambering around and a dog barking at the unexpected disruption. "Just a minute!" After a short moment, the door opened a crack, a bushy haired face appearing and looking down at them. "Oh, it's you three," Hagrid said, not with his usual gusto. "Come inside if you must. You're letting the heat out."

Heat was an understatement. The inside of the hut couldn't have been more different to the outside, explaining why Hagrid was only clad in a thin shirt and loose pants. The three of them immediately undid their cloaks, the temperature stifling. Sweat was already forming on their brows and the thought of jumping into a pile of snow was suddenly rather appealing. Hermione had thrown her hat to the ground in protest, with Matthew too uncomfortable to even gloat. The fire was roaring with a large black pot balanced over it. Poor Fang didn't even have the energy to bound over to them as he normally would, instead lapping up water from his bowl to fight off the conditions.

"Why is it so warm in here?" Harry complained.

"Because...it's cold outside, ain't it?" Hagrid responded, not too convincingly. He'd never been good at lying. "Can't go wrong with a good fire during the winter."

"Yeah, but surely this is going too far! How have you survived this long?"

Matthew was wandering around the cramped space whilst Hagrid was distracted with fielding Harry's questions, coming to a stop by the pot. Using a pair of tongs hung up by the side, and making sure to keep his distance, he delicately lifted the lid up and peered inside, letting out an intake of breath at what he found.

"So I was wrong, guys. He has gone and done exactly what you thought."

"What are you doing with that?" Hagrid shouted, knocking over a chair in his haste to put the lid back on. "None of the heat can escape!"

"What was in there?" Hermione, ever curious, asked. She had a sinking feeling that she already knew.

"An egg," Matthew simply replied before Hagrid could tell him to be quiet. "A big one as well. You can guess what's inside it. Judging from the texture and patterns, I'd say it was probably...Scandinavian in origin."

"Norwegian," Hagrid replied. "How do you know so much about dragon eggs?"

"Just enough to get you to admit that it is a dragon egg." Matthew couldn't tell whether he was angry or slightly proud at being caught out so easily. "Do you know that having one in the UK is very much illegal?"

"Of course I know that! Why do you think I've been hiding it so discreetly? No one can know about it. There's no telling what they'd do to the poor thing if the wrong person found out."

"There's no telling what they'd do to you, Hagrid!" Hermione pointed out. "You could end up in Azkaban!"

"Azkaban?" Harry repeated with a frown. "What's that?"

"I sometimes forget that you haven't read as much as me. Azkaban is wizarding society's prison. A dreadful place from all accounts."'

"It's a stupid law anyway," Hagrid complained, falling back onto his oversized armchair. "They're misunderstood creatures, dragons. Not dangerous, not really. If they're left on their own, they wouldn't even bother with people, I reckon."

Matthew looked at him incredulously. "They're giant fire-breathing reptiles. Even the most well-intentioned of dragons could cause an unholy amount of damage without breaking a sweat." He paused, glancing at Hermione. "Do dragons sweat? I've never really thought of it." He noticed her roll her eyes at him. "Not the time? Okay."

"How long have you had the egg?" Harry asked, walking up to the pot and taking a peek inside. Hagrid didn't have the energy to stop him this time.

"Only a few days. Though it feels longer."

"You're missing the more important question," Matthew said. "How did you get the egg in the first place?"

"I won it in a bet! I was in the Hog's Head, like I normally am. That's one of the pubs in the village. I got chatting to this bloke and here we are."

The three of them shared a concerned look. "What did this person look like?" Hermione was the one to put the question to him this time.

Hagrid felt like he was being interrogated by the world's smallest aurors. "I couldn't see. He was wearing a cloak that covered his face. He seemed pleasant enough."

Matthew dragged his hands over his face in disbelief. "So...let me get this straight. You took an egg...something you've probably wanted all your life...from a complete stranger...who wouldn't show their face...and you didn't think that was weird?"

"It's pretty normal behaviour in the Hog to be fair," was all the response he could muster.

Over the next few days, they paid visits to Hagrid's hut whenever they could, checking on the progress of the dragon. So much so that people were growing suspicious, including Neville, who had asked them what they were up to. Harry had absentmindedly said something about pumpkin farming, which most people would have known was nonsense given the wintry conditions, but Neville wasn't given any chance to respond before they were off again. The three of them shared the same horrifying image in their head, where the egg would hatch and they would arrive at the hut to find it ablaze. Thankfully, that hadn't happened just yet.

It was on the third evening that Hermione decided to ask a question that had been playing on her mind since they'd found out about Hagrid's less than legal activities. "The man you got the egg from...forgetting his strange appearance, did you have to give him anything in return? I mean...dragon eggs are going to be very expensive. He wouldn't have just given it to you."

"Well, no. I beat him at cards for it!" Hagrid looked quite proud of that accomplishment. "He was rather interested in what me job was, mind. He said he had to make sure that I was up to the task of looking after a dragon, so I told him about me job as gamekeeper here. He kept buying me drinks so my memory's a bit fuzzy, but I'm sure he asked about what creatures I work with. Well, I told him...after Fluffy, a dragon would be a piece of cake!"

"Fluffy?" Harry echoed.

Hagrid blanched. "I shouldn't have told you that."

"Who's Fluffy?" Hermione pressed.

"You don't mean...you can't mean…" Matthew sputtered, trying to rationalise what he was hearing. "The three-headed dog?" Harry and Hermione let out a gasp.

"How do you know about Fluffy?"

"You called that beast Fluffy?" Harry said in a loud voice.

"He ain't a beast! He's a very gentle creature, just like any other dog. You can't go judging anything on its appearances."

"No, we'll judge it on the fact that it's tried to eat us at least two times already!" Matthew shot back.

"Now why are you going anywhere near Fluffy? That's none of your business. I told you to keep out of it. You should start listening to other people, you three. Or you'll get yourselves hurt."

"But...don't you see?" Hermione continued regardless. She was standing up now, pacing in panicked fashion. "This mystery person now knows that Fluffy exists! Did they seem interested in him?"

"How many people have heard of a three-headed dog? Of course he was interested! He reacted in the same way as you, thinking he's vicious or dangerous. I assured him that there's nothing to worry about once you play him a bit of music. Wait...forget I said that!"

Matthew banged his head on the table. "This person knows how to get past the thing guarding the stone. We're actually doomed."

"Guys…" Harry murmured but no one heard him.

"Don't be daft! We'd know if the stone had been taken. Dumbledore's the wisest man I've ever known. No one would dare try to take it whilst he's in this castle." Hagrid was dead set on that position, never hearing a bad word about his hero. "We shouldn't even be having this conversation. You're kids. You should be thinking about...kid stuff. Like sweets, and games, and homework. Put this to the back of your mind. Forget about it." He really hoped that they would listen but his mind was telling him it was very unlikely. They were stubborn, that was for definite.

"Guys," Harry said again, with the same outcome.

"But Hagrid!" Hermione wailed. "As soon as Dumbledore leaves Hogwarts, don't you think this person is going to strike? We need to be on high alert!"

"Guys!" Harry shouted this time and the others finally looked in his direction. He was pointing to the pot, which he'd taken the lid off of. Inside, the deep black egg had formed a fault. A crack. It had been tiny at first, when Harry had noticed it. Barely noticeable. But then one line had formed into two, before a latticework of fractures spread across the surface and, now, a tiny, scaly, little head was looking up at him with curious eyes.

Hagrid moved with a speed that they didn't know he possessed, shifting in front of Harry to get a better look at the creature. With gentle hands (again, they didn't know he could be so tender with such large digits), he eased away parts of the shell, assisting the baby dragon in getting free. After a short while of silence, with none of them wanting to make a noise in case it disturbed the newly-hatched, Hagrid turned around to face them, cradling the animal in his paws. With a little burp, a small burst of fire emerged from the dragon's mouth, setting part of his beard alight. He patted it quickly and frantically before it was extinguished, a large smile on his face and tears brimming in his eyes.

"Ain't he just the cutest thing ever?"

xxxxxxxxxx

They continued to visit Hagrid over the next week, with the dragon (named Norbert, which Harry thought was the silliest name for such a creature) growing at an alarming rate. He had been no bigger than a teacup upon hatching; by the time their latest trip came around, he was comfortably the same size as the pot he'd been baked in. The three of them knew that it wasn't healthy to let Hagrid keep him any longer, especially with the tight emotional bond he'd already formed with him. The issue was that none of them wanted to tell him that, for fear of what his reaction would be. They'd actually undertaken a hotly tested game of rock, paper, scissors to decide who would be the one to broach the topic, with Matthew the unfortunate loser. He'd attempted to say that the result was forfeit, that he hadn't been focusing properly, that Harry had put him off somehow, that Hermione had put him under a spell...but that had been the desperate pleas of a boy who knew he had a difficult task ahead of himself.

He put a hand on Hagrid's mighty shoulder, forcing the half-giant to stop looking at the baby dragon for a few moments. Norbert was currently learning how to climb, using his surprisingly sharp claws, knocking over a range of pots and pans, with a symphony of pangs and crashes to go with it. Whilst the three children winced every time another utensil clattered onto the floor, Hagrid either seemed deaf to it or, which was more troubling, he actually felt like it was the most beautiful sound in the world.

"Hagrid," Matthew began, slightly nervously. Their friend was a gentle being but his size meant that any sensitive overreaction could lead to trouble. "You do know that Norbert can't stay here, right?"

Hagrid turned his attention back to the small creature and let out a sigh. They couldn't tell whether it was happy or sad. "I know." That surprised them all. They'd expected him to put up a fight, to wail and cry, perhaps bargain with them. But the way his voice sounded, so dejected but final, made them realise that they'd heard correctly. "I've been thinking it over, these past few days. This ain't the environment the little guy needs to grow and blossom into the...magnificent creature he'll become one day." He sniffed loudly, the first sign that waterworks were on their way. "I was going to ask if you could come down today before you turned up. There's a dragon sanctuary in Romania. I have a contact there...Charlie Weasley. You know the Weasleys, of course. I wrote to him as soon as I got the egg, asking for advice. Well, his response was a lot like yours. That professionals should be looking after him, rather than a big oaf like me."

"You're not an oaf, Hagrid!" Hermione countered. "You just...love too much. And, as much as Norbert needs that, he always needs to live somewhere where he won't be bigger than in a few months."

"I know, I know. Charlie's promised to look after him. I just need your help with the transportation. As you've told me repeatedly , doing anything involving dragons is murky territory, so we're having to do this quietly. He's going to be flying over the Astronomy Tower in a short while and that's when he'll be able to...take Norbert."

"Why does that involve us?" Harry asked, though he had a sinking feeling that he already knew the answer.

"Well...I don't think I can go through with doing it myself. I'll be an emotional wreck. So, I was hoping, since we're friends an' all, that you'd lend me a hand."

So that was how, at an hour way past their curfew and with a baby dragon inside a bag on Matthew's back, they found themselves making their way up to the Astronomy Tower, the three of them huddled under Harry's invisibility cloak. There had been a slight reluctance on their behalf to do this, mainly because of the amount of trouble they'd be in if they were caught (both with the teaching staff and wizarding authorities), but they just hadn't been able to say no to Hagrid. He had been the first person to show Harry any kindness, the person who introduced him to this life, so he was willing to go above and beyond for the gamekeeper. The most difficult part of the evening so far had been actually leaving his hut, with Hagrid a blubbering mess as he was forced to let go of Norbert for the last time. He'd told the dragon to be safe, to stand up to bullies, and that he'd hopefully visit him one day. Surprisingly, they'd grown rather emotional watching the scene, especially when Norbert had nipped at his beard in farewell.

The castle was, understandably, quiet, which meant their progress was fairly swift. They didn't rush, more down to the fact that they were constantly worried that their precious cargo would suddenly disturb to let out a fiery burp, which would have destroyed their means of discreet transport in a few seconds. The closest they had come to bumping into anyone was when they'd spotted Draco Malfoy having a heated discussion with Professor McGonagall, who had looked incredibly grumpy as she'd stood there in her nightie. They had no idea why the Slytherin was still up, or what he would have been complaining about, but they hadn't dared go any closer in case they gave their position away, instead beginning the climb up the steps to the tower.

It felt oddly anticlimactic giving Norbert away after the trouble and excitement he'd brought over the past weeks. Charlie Weasley, as they'd been told, had hovered into view on a broomstick, along with a couple of colleagues, and, after a quick discussion about the creature they were smuggling (Harry was happy that there wasn't enough time to talk about him being Harry Potter ), Norbert was being flown away into the dark night sky. They waved him off, unable to believe that it had actually worked without anyone knowing. With the tower being as exposed as it was, a chilly wind was biting at them, so they decided they could celebrate that back in the warmth of the common room.

"I can't believe I'm actually a criminal now," Hermione said forlornly as they headed for the exit. "A fully fledged, immoral criminal."

"At least we're criminals together," Harry put forward, looking on the brighter side of things. "It means we can share a cell when we inevitably get arrested." She hit him on the arm for that, just as he was about to open the door.

Matthew cleared his throat loudly. "Are you forgetting something, you two?" He was standing behind them, holding a silvery object in his hand. Harry couldn't believe that he'd forgotten the cloak, nor could Hermione, who was chastising herself for focusing too much on her new criminal record.

"Thank goodness you're here." Harry breathed a sigh of relief as they crowded under the material once more. "Imagine what would have happened if you hadn't been."