Chapter Nine: Dragon? You've Got to be Joking
After the trio had eavesdropped on Snape and Quirrell, Harish decided that they needed to keep a close eye on the professor. He knew it was only a matter of time before he made a move to get the stone. But, surprisingly, in the next several weeks, there was no more activity.
This set Harish on edge. He didn't like waiting, but he knew he had to bide his time if he wanted to steal the stone without getting caught. On top of that, Hermione started drawing out exam schedules, which only managed to make him more aggravated.
Ron and Neville reluctantly spending more time in the library doing homework as exams approached. The Slytherins had also been more nasty ever since that match. Zabini and Malfoy hadn't seemed to have forgotten about the fight they had at the match, Zabini in particular.
"I'm never going to remember all of this," Ron said aggravated. He threw down his book on the table and leaned back, closing his eyes.
Neville was flicking feverishly through a textbook, trying to get more spell practice in. He glanced up to see a giant form lurking behind a shelf.
"Hagrid! What're you doing here?" he asked.
Hagrid stuck his head around the shelf and glanced around. "I was jus' browsing," he said. Something about his tone suggested that this wasn't really the case. "An' what're yeh up ter? Yer not still lookin' fer Nicholas Flamel are yeh?"
"Oh, no," Ron replied proudly. "We found out about him ages ago. We know what Fluffy's guarding too. It's a Philosopher's St—"
"Shhh!" Hagrid shushed him, glancing around to make sure no one had been in earshot. "Don' go shoutin' about it. Wha's the matter with yeh?"
"We do want to know what's guarding it other than Fluffy," Neville said and Hagrid started motioning for him to stop frantically.
"SHHH!" the giant shushed even louder. "Listen—come an' see me later. I'm not promisin' to tell yeh anything, but don' go blabbin' about it here."
"See you later then," Neville replied and Hagrid shuffled away.
I-SMELL-SOMETHING-FISHY—OR-DRAGONY?
Voldemort was once again sitting in his study. This time he was reading a book. Rain was falling and pattering against the window. The sky was dark and clouds covered the moon. Suddenly the fireplace flared green and the Dark Lord glanced up to see Lucius come spinning out of the grate. He was wringing his hands and he looked slightly dishevelled.
"What is this, Lucius?" Voldemort asked, sitting back in his chair. "I am not usually disturbed at this hour."
The blonde man began wringing his hands again and he walked up to the desk, stalling for time. Finally, he said quietly, "It is gone."
"Gone? What is gone?" the Dark Lord queried.
"Your diary."
Voldemort jerked his head up at his Death Eater and his back snapped straight. "What?" he asked quietly, hoping fully that he had heard the man wrong.
"Your diary…it is…gone."
"How? Where?"
"I have been at work and Narcissa was out shopping," Lucius began explaining. "We had our house locked and warded. The diary was in a secure location. When I arrived home, books and papers were scattered everywhere. Tables were overturned and cushions were slashed. I soon discovered that the diary was stolen. Whoever stole it was looking for it specifically."
Voldemort took a deep breath trying to swallow some of his anger and…fear. That diary was dangerous and he had placed it at the Malfoy's for a reason. He knew he would have to punish the man for this.
"And that's not all. This means that whoever stole this knows things about you that even I don't."
I-LOVED-THAT-DIARY—CRUCIO!
Draco, Hermione, and Daphne were walking from Herbology up to Transfiguration and were passing a group of Gryffindors that were making their way to the greenhouses. Draco stopped and grabbed Hermione's elbow to stop her as well. Then he pointed discreetly over his shoulder at Ron and Neville who were passing.
Ron was saying as they passed, "—honestly I think we should just skip Herbology. I mean, how often are we going to see a dragon hatching?"
"We might get Hagrid in trouble, though," Neville muttered.
Just then Seamus walked up to the pair and saw Draco and Hermione listening.
"Shhh!" he whispered.
The two Slytherins then hastily sped off.
"Dragon?" Hermione whispered as they sat in their seats. "Hagrid has a dragon?"
"He shouldn't," Draco said after a second. "It is against the law to breed dragons in Britain. It was outlawed ages ago."
"Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall suddenly called. "Please pay attention."
Draco could feel his face growing pink and he resign to being silent until class ended. When it did the two of them found Harish and told him about how Hagrid was hatching a dragon.
"So Hagrid is hatching a dragon?" Harish demanded.
"Dragon?" Fred asked. "You've got to be joking."
"But the thing is," Harish said. "How many people wander around with dragon eggs in their pockets? This cannot be a coincidence."
"You think Quirrell gave the gamekeeper a dragon egg?" Hermione asked.
"I don't see who else would have," George replied, agreeing with Harish.
"Draco," Harish suddenly said. "See if you can find anything else about the dragon egg."
Draco nodded and left the common room, heading out to the gamekeeper's cabin. Curtains were pulled shut over the windows and smoke furled out of the chimney. As the boy walked up to the window and peeked around the curtains, he could hear voices.
"Isn't he beautiful?" the giant man was asking.
The baby dragon looked like a slimy, crumpled up black umbrella.
"Hagrid?" Weasley asked. "How fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow?"
Draco saw the gamekeeper's hairy face glance out the window and he ran for it. The boy was almost positive he had been spotted.
"What is it?" Ron asked as Hagrid's face paled.
"Someone was lookin' through the gap in the curtains—it was a kid—he's runnin' up ter the castle.
Ron opened the door and looked out. There was no mistaking that blonde hair. Malfoy had seen the dragon.
The smile lurking on Draco's face the next week put Ron and Neville on edge. They spent most of their free time in Hagrid's darkened cabin, trying to convince him to get rid of the dragon.
"Just let him go," Ron said. "Set him free."
"I can'," Hagrid said. "He's too little. He'd die."
They looked at the dragon, which had grown three times the size it was when it hatched in a week. Smoke rose from his nostrils. Hagrid hadn't been doing his gamekeeping duties because he had been so busy taking care of it. There were empty brandy bottles and chicken feathers all over the floor.
"I've decided to call him Norbert," Hagrid said, looking at the dragon with misty eyes. "He really knows me now, watch. Norbert? Norbert, where's Mummy?"
"He's lost his marbles," Ron muttered in Neville's ear.
"Hagrid," Neville said quietly. "You live in a wooden house. Give it another week and the whole place will be burned down."
Hagrid bit his lip. "I—I know I can' keep him forever, but I jus' can' dump him."
Neville suddenly turned to Ron.
"Charlie," he said.
"You're losing your marbles too," Ron replied. "I'm Ron, remember?"
"No, your brother, Charlie," Neville clarified. "Doesn't he work with dragons? We could send Norbert to him."
"That's brilliant!" Ron exclaimed. "How about it, Hagrid?"
In the end Hagrid agreed that they could send a letter to Charlie and ask him. When they got a reply from him, he told them to meet a bunch of his friends at the top of the astronomy tower. They agreed. Then, the next day Ron got bitten by Norbert and had to go to the Hospital Wing.
"You know," Ron said when Neville visited him. "Malfoy pretended to borrow a book from me so that he could tease me. He kept saying that he should tell Madam Pomfrey what really bit me…Oh, no!"
"What?" Neville asked.
"The book Malfoy took! It had Charlie's letter in it."
But it was too late to cancel. On midnight that Saturday Neville and Seamus lugged a wooden crate with Norbert in it up to the Astronomy Tower. Charlie's friends took it for them and the two boys then made their way back to the stairway, relieved that they no longer had to deal with the dragon. Both of them stopped, their hearts sinking. Filch was standing there.
"Well, well, well," he wheezed. "We are in trouble."