𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞 𝐀𝐦𝐞 | 𝐇.𝐏.

𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝟏 - 𝟖

We had just finished our end-of-year exams, and, personally, I thought that they were horrid. It seemed Hermione didn't, though.

"I'd always heard Hogwarts en-of-year exams were frightful," she said, as the four of us were outside, enjoying the early summer breeze. "But I found them rather enjoyable."

"Speak for yourself," Weasley grumbled. Then, "Alright, there, Harry?"

I looked over at Potter to see him clutching his scar and wincing.

"My scar. It keeps burning," he replied.

"It happened before," Hermione said.

"Not like this," Potter assured her.

"Perhaps you should see Madame Pomfrey," I offered.

"I think it's a warning," was all Potter said. "It means danger's coming." Then he stopped dead. I followed his line of vision to see him staring straight towards Hagrid, who was playing the flute on his front steps.

"Oh," Potter whispered with an air of realization. "Of course."

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

"Don't you think it's a bit odd," he answered, "that what Hagrid wants more than anything is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have one? I mean, how many people wander around with dragon eggs in their pockets?"

I considered his idea. He wasn't wrong.

"Why didn't I see it before?" He asked himself in exasperation, and his speed picked up.

We ran the rest of the way down the hill, until we reached Hagrid.

"Hagrid," Potter gasped out. "Who gave you the dragon egg? What did he look like?"

Hagrid's brows furrowed in confusion for a moment before he answered, "I dunno. Never saw his face. He kept his hood up."

"This stranger though," Potter pushed on. "You and he must have talked."

"Well, he wanted to know what sort of creatures I looked after," Hagrid said thoughtfully. "I told him, I said, 'After Fluffy, a dragon's gonna be no problem.'"

"And did he seem interested in Fluffy?" Hermione asked.

"Well o' course he was interested in Fluffy! How often do you come across a three-headed-dog, even if you're in the trade?" Hagrid asked, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"But I told him, I said," he continued, "the trick with any beast is to know how to calm him. Take Fluffy for example. All you gotta do is play him a bit o' music, and he falls right to sleep."

The four of us looked at each other with terrified expressions.

"I shouldn't have told you that..." Hagrid registered. We all whipped around and began to run again, this time back to the castle. 

"Where you goin'? Wait!" He called out after us, but we ignored him.

When we reached the castle, we continued down one of the main corridors, and then skidded to a stop in front of Professor McGonagall's currently empty classroom.

Potter didn't stop for a second, throwing himself at her desk. 

"We have to see Professor Dumbledore," he gasped. "Immediately."

"I'm afraid Professor Dumbledore is not here," Professor McGonagall answered with offended shock. "He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and left instantly for London."

"He's gone? Now?" Potter said in disbelief. "But this is important!"

When Professor McGonagall's stern face only got sterner, I said hurriedly, "This is about the Sorcerer's Stone."