Rory Potter, the Girl Who Lived

The Norwegian Ridgeback

          "Hermione, the exams are ages away," I moan.
          "Ten weeks!" she snaps. "That's not ages, that's a second to Nicholas Flamel."
          "But we're not Nicholas Flamel," I remind her.
          "Yes, but we both know how you do in History of Magic, Rory, and if you don't start studying now you'll never be able to pass," she says defensively.
          "Hagrid! What are you doing here?" Ron asks suddenly, snapping us out of our argument.
          "Jus' lookin'," he says in a shifty voice as he slides out from behind the shelf, hiding something behind his back. "An' what're you lot up ter? Not still lookin' fer Nicholas Flamel, are yeh?"
          "Oh, no, we found out about him ages ago," Ron says proudly. "The dog's guarding the Sorcerer's St - "
          "Shhhh!" Hagrid hisses. "No student is ter know! Don't go shoutin' about it. Come an' see me later, you four."
          With that, he shuffles off. Ron volunteers to look at what section he was in, then comes back a moment later with a pile of books.
          "Dragons!" Ron breathes. "Look at these: Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland; From Egg to Inferno, A Dragon Keeper's Guide."
          "What on earth is Hagrid up to?" I ask. "Dragon breeding was outlawed in 1709!"

          When we reach Hagrid's, we notice that all the curtains are closed, and when he lets us in, it's burning hot. Hagrid males us tea and offers us stout sandwiches, which we refuse politely.
          "So - yeh wanted ter ask me somethin'?"
          "Yeah," Harry says. "We wanted to ask you what was guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy."
          I can see Hagrid is a bout to refuse, so I quickly add in a war!, flattering voice, "Oh, come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you do know, you know everything that goes on round here."
          "Yes," Hermione adds, "Professor Dumbledore trusts you with his most important business, correct? We wondered who Dumbledore trusted enough to help him, apart from you." 
          Hagrid looks very around as he says, "Oh, all righ', it won't hurt ter tell yeh. Let's see . . . Professor Sprout - Professor Flitwick - Professor McGonagall - Professor Quirrel - an' Dumbledore himself o' course. Oh, and Professor Snape." At our shocked looks, he says, "Snape's helpin' protect the Stone, he's not gonna steal it."
          "Can we open a window, Hagrid?" Harry asks suddenly. "I'm boiling."
          "Can't, Harry, sorry," Hagrid says, glancing at a pot boiling on the stove. My eyes follow his - 
          "Oh, my goodness, Hagrid, is that a dragon egg?" I demand, looking at the he black egg in the heart of the fire.
          "Well, yes, I won it las' nigh' at the pub - " he starts.
          "What are you going to do when it's hatched?" Hermione demands shrilly.
          "Raise it, o' course! That's a Norwegian Ridgeback, that is."
          "Hagrid, you live in a wooden house," I say skeptically.

          The next morning we get a note from Hagrid with just two words: It's hatching.
          The boys and I manage to convince Hermione to skip Herbology to go and see it, and when we knock on Hagrid's door, he pulls us inside instantly. We cored around the table, where the egg rocks and swivels, emitting a squeaking sound. A few deep cracks run through the black shell, and more are appearing by the second.
         Suddenly, with another squeak and a loud scrape, the egg splits in half and a baby dragon tumbles out. It honestly looks like a crumpled black umbrella. It sneezes and a few sparks fly out.
          "Isn't he beautiful? I'm naming him Norbert!" Hagrid coos. He reaches out to touch the dragon, but it snaps at his fingers.
          Then the dragon turns to me. It crawls along the table, and I stay frozen in my seat as it stops directly in front of me. My heartbeat and breathing quicken, and the colour drains from my face.
          "Don' move, Rory, it'll lose interest in you," Hagrid says in a worried tone. I ignore him and meet the dragon's glitering eyes. Tentively, I stretch out a hand and go to touch it on the nose. The dragon doesn't move. I storks it's head gently and it letsnout a little squeak. I smile and channel energy into my pendent, brushing up against the little dragon's mind. 
           Hello, little dragon.
          Shockingly, its a young female voice that answers me: Hello.
          "Hagrid, it's a she," I say. Hagrid just stares.
          "How did yeh - what are yeh - ?" he stammers.
          After a moment, Hermione starts trying to convince Hagrid to get rid of it. The dragon climbs onto my shoulder and perches there, sneezing sparks every once in a while.
          "Charlie," I say suddenly, looking at Ron.
          "You've lost your marbles," he says, "I'm Ron, remember?"
          Harry gasps, realizing what I'm saying. "No, Charlie, your brother. In Romania studying dragons!"
          Hermione's eyes go wide and she grins, "Of course! We'll owl Charlie and see if he can pick Norbert up!"
          "Norbert's," I correct. "What d'you think, Ron?"
          "That's perfect!" Ron says. "Hagrid?"
          He nods reluctantly. "Alrigh'." He looks out the window, and the colour suddenly drains from his face. He leaps up. "Someone's seen us!"
          "Who!?" I demand, standing with the dragon on my shoulder. I look out to see someone running back to the school. There's no mistaking the figure.
          Draco Malfoy has seen the dragon.

          "It bit me!" Ron says, showing us a bite mark that has turned a nasty shade of green and swollen to twice it's normal size.
          "Go to the hospital wing!" I say immediately.
          "Later, Rory. But Charlie wrote back. He's sending some friends of his over to get the dragon at midnight tonight. In the Astronomy tower," Ron says quickly. We all agree and then Hermione and I bully Ron into going to the hospital wing.

          Hermione and I wait for Harry at the foot of the stairs. Finally he comes down, with the invisibility cloak draped over his arm. We all load under it and sneak to Hagrid's, where he gives us a crate containing the dragon. We barely manage to fit in there.
          "Just barely," Harry says. "Thank Merlin Rory is small."
          We push, shove, heave, and drag the crate to the bottom of the astronomy tower. At a sudden noise, we all freeze. Two shadows grapple in front of us not ten feet away. Forgetting we're invisible, we shrink into the shadows. A lamp flares.
          Professor McGonagall, in a tartan bathrobe and a hairnet, has Malfoy by the ear.
          "Detention!" she shouts. "And twenty points from Slytherin! Wandering about in the middle of the night, how dare you - "
          "But, Professor, the Potters are coming and they've got a dragon!"
          "What utter rubbish! Come, I shall see Professor Snake about you, Malfoy!"
          The spiral staircase seems like nothing compared to the rest of the castle now that Malfoy's in trouble. But I can't help but feel a pang of guilt; its our fault he got caught. When we get to the top and throw off the cloak, Hermione does a sort of jig.
          "Malfoy's got detention! I could sing!" she cheers. I grin.
          "Don't," Harry advises her. I giggle. When Charlie's friends arrive, we finally get rid of Norberta, after they show us their harness they rigged up to suspend the crate between their broomsticks.
          We slip back down the spiral staircase, our hearts light and spirits cheery: Malfoy has detention and Norberta is gone. But when we step into the corridor, Filch's face looms out of the darkness.
          "Well, well, well," he whispers, "we are in trouble."
         We'd left the invisibility clock at the top of the tower.