Hermione jumped up, startled. She scanned the room before sighing in relief and admonishing, "Harry, quit stirring up trouble."
Harry removed the invisibility cloak, surveying the cozy common room. "This place looks great, much warmer and brighter than Slytherin's."
"The style is completely different," Hermione remarked, returning her attention to her Transfiguration paper. "What were you going to say?"
"Oh, right," Harry recalled. "I once consulted Uncle Felix about this chapter on desire in Transfiguration. He offered insights not found in the books."
"What's your take?" Hermione inquired with curiosity.
Harry grabbed a piece of paper and folded it into a butterfly shape. "Follow me," he whispered, leading her to the window.
He opened it, revealing the bright stars and the perfectly positioned moon. A chilly breeze swept in.
Harry released the origami paper into the wind, watching it flutter backward. Swiftly, he wielded his wand, casting a spell that transformed it into a real butterfly. It flapped its wings against the wind, returning majestically to Harry's fingertips.
"Uncle Felix told me: The hallmark of life is defiance. By infusing this desire into the spellcasting process, the transfigured object gains a yearning to break free from lifelessness, doubling the efficiency of the polymorph spell."
Hermione pondered his words, then returned to her seat. She drew her wand and aimed it at the inkwell.
"Infuse it with the desire to break free from the inert?" she questioned.
"Exactly," Harry affirmed. At her confirmation, Hermione cast the spell. The inkwell contorted and, after a moment, transformed into a dark sparrow.
"Wow!" Hermione exclaimed, marveling at the ease and quality of the transformation, vastly improved from previous attempts.
"The essence of life is defiance," she echoed Harry's earlier statement.
"Indeed. Shapeshifters needn't understand the minutiae of blood vessels, bones, or muscles. We simply visualize the desired traits—a cheerful sparrow hopping and flying," Harry explained.
As he spoke, the dark sparrow fluttered, ready to take flight. Quick on his wand, Harry intervened, halting the spell. The sparrow reverted to its original form—an inkwell.
"It can't fly. Abruptly ending the spell mid-flight would be troublesome," Harry chuckled.
"The counter-curse..." Hermione gaped at Harry. "That's part of the third-year curriculum."
Unfazed, Harry turned away, assessing the common room. "Progress is a bit slow... I'm eager to delve into more advanced topics by the end of my second year."
On the journey back, Harry felt lighter, as if a weight had been lifted. However, upon returning to the dormitory, he found Draco, who had been asleep, wide awake and alert.
"Where were you?" Draco questioned.
"Just out for a bit," Harry replied, noting Draco's odd demeanor and deciding to exercise caution in the morning.
"It's about the dragon!" Draco whispered excitedly and nervously. "Did you go to feed the dragon?!"
Harry's expression grew serious. "How do you know about dragons?"
"I glimpsed your book," Draco admitted. "Just a quick peek."
"Alright." Harry nodded resignedly. "Yes, there are dragons."
"Can you take me to see it?!" Draco exclaimed, excitement evident in his voice.
Harry regarded him skeptically. "It's just a dragon. What's so thrilling about it?"
"Are you kidding? It's a dragon!" Draco's enthusiasm was palpable. "I've dreamt of having one since I was a child, but my father wouldn't allow it. Said it'd be too ostentatious. I'm Draco!"
At that moment, Harry realized the significance of Draco's name—derived from the Draco constellation.
He regarded Draco with a bemused expression, not expecting such an ostentatious name.
It could be compared to... Lucifer.
"What's with that look?" Draco frowned.
"Nothing," Harry shook his head. "I can take you to see it, but not now. And you can't tell anyone else about this. Having a dragon at Hogwarts could cause serious trouble if it gets out."
"Okay," Draco agreed simply. Then, with eagerness, he asked, "When can we go?"
"It's still too young. Maybe in three or four weeks," Harry replied.
Three or four weeks felt like an eternity, especially for Draco, who found each passing moment in Professor McGonagall's class interminable.
Harry, too, found himself preoccupied. Each day seemed consumed by thoughts of dragons.
Yet, he honored their agreement, keeping their secret tightly guarded, no matter the inquiries or suspicions he faced.
Nearly a month later, Harry finally relented to Draco's persistent requests, agreeing to take him. Together, they set out from the common room.
As they made their way to Hagrid's hut, Draco expressed surprise. "The dragon is here?!"
Harry gave him a sharp slap on the back. "Hagrid is a good man. And if you set aside your pure-blood nonsense and arrogance, you'd see he could easily best both of us with one punch."
Draco recoiled, realizing Harry was right. Hagrid's fists were formidable enough to flatten him.
"Alright, my mistake," Draco conceded. "But why are we sneaking out so late?"
"Because the dragon is in the Forbidden Forest," Harry explained. "Did you think I'd keep it in an empty classroom?"
Norbert, the young dragon, had outgrown Hagrid's hut. So, Hagrid had relocated him to a designated area in the Forbidden Forest to roam freely.
The Forbidden Forest, Harry discovered, was vast and teeming with magical creatures. Hagrid had managed to carve out a space for Norbert among them.
As they approached Hagrid's hut, they found him waiting outside with Fang. Draco stepped forward, offering a respectful bow. "Good evening, Mr. Hagrid."
Draco's newfound politeness surprised Hagrid, who nodded in response. "Let's go."