In the weeks that followed, Professor Quirrell grew noticeably paler and thinner. To Harry, Ron, and Hermione, this only deepened their respect for him; they believed he was bravely resisting Snape's relentless pressure.
Elian, however, thought differently. To him, Quirrell didn't look like a man holding out against Snape but one who was failing to move forward. Elian was certain that Quirrell hadn't managed to break through the enchantments beyond Fluffy, and the strain of repeated attempts was carving away at him bit by bit.
But the Philosopher's Stone was no longer what occupied Elian's thoughts. His mind kept circling back to the faceless man he had seen through the black stud. Who was he? Was that truly the voice behind the distortion? Why had his face been nothing but a mouth? Why had Elian been unable to move or speak in that void? And what exactly did that cryptic advice mean?
Questions crowded his mind, but none brought answers. Whenever Elian tried to reach out to the stud, or to any of his other ornaments...nothing happened. The silence was worse than the mystery itself.
Elian's lack of interest in the Philosopher's Stone didn't go unnoticed. Whenever Harry, Ron, and Hermione insisted on sneaking past the third-floor corridor to make sure Fluffy was still growling behind the door, Elian would only linger at a distance, arms crossed, waiting for them to finish. More often than not, he flat-out refused to go at all, brushing it off as a waste of time.
It was Sunday evening. In the Gryffindor common room, Elian, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat around the armchairs with books spread out, mostly because Hermione had declared it absolutely necessary, exams were only ten weeks away.
While Hermione was busy reciting the twelve uses of dragon's blood, Ron let out a loud groan.
"Hermione, the exams are ages away."
"Ten weeks," Hermione snapped. "That's not ages. That's like a second to Nicolas Flamel."
"But we're not six hundred years old," Ron shot back. "And anyway, why are you even revising? You already know everything."
"What am I revising for? Are you mad? We need to pass these exams to get into second year! They're important. Honestly, I should have started a month ago, I don't know what's come over me..."
"Pardon me, ladies and gentlemen," Elian cut in, leaning back in his chair with a nod toward Ron and Hermione. "Would you mind conducting this very crucial debate in a slightly lower volume?"
Harry let out a chuckle without looking up from his book.
"Oh, shut it, Elian," Ron snapped. "You barely spend time with us as it is."
"There's this thing called 'reading,' Weasley," Elian said in a mock-dramatic tone. "I know it's unfamiliar territory for you, but I'd rather do that than listen to a three-headed dog growling in my free time."
Ron's ears flushed pink, and to make matters worse, Harry coughed loudly, though it sounded suspiciously like a laugh.
"I haven't seen you open a single book from our syllabus, Elian," Hermione said sternly.
"You too, Granger?" Elian replied in a mock-betrayed tone. "I thought you, of all people, understood my brilliance."
"That's not brilliance, that's ignorance," Hermione shot back. "You've lost all interest in the Philosopher's Stone, and you're not even revising for exams."
"First of all, Granger," Elian said, pointing at her dramatically, "there's more to life than just those two things. Second, I already know I'll score more than enough to pass."
"Then tell me," Hermione said, standing with her arms crossed. "What are the fundamental laws of Transfiguration?"
"Are you sure, Grang—"
"Just answer," Hermione cut him off sternly.
A smirk tugged at Elian's lips.
"The greater the body weight, the harder it is to transfigure."
"What spell counters Accio?"
"Depulso."
"What is Dittany?"
"A healing plant."
"What potion is nicknamed 'Liquid Luck'?"
"Felix Felicis."
Hermione drew in another breath—
"Calm down, Granger," Elian said smoothly, interrupting before she could continue. "You won't stop asking, and I won't stop answering. But since tomorrow's Monday, how about we call it a night? I'd say I've proven my point."
Hermione's ears flushed red, but before she could fire back, Elian had already slipped into the dormitory, leaving her fuming, Ron looking sheepish, and Harry quietly amused.
A few days later, the Easter holidays arrived—but unlike Christmas, they were far from relaxing. The teachers buried the students under so much homework that there was little time for anything else. Hermione and Elian finished their assignments within the first two days and spent the rest of the break in the library. Harry and Ron also ended up there, though mostly to groan, yawn, and drag their way through the mountain of extra work.
"I'll never remember this," Ron burst out one afternoon, throwing down his quill and looking longingly out of the library window. It was the first really fine day they'd had in months. The sky was a clear, forget-me-not blue, and there was a feeling in the air of summer coming.
Elian, who was reading a rune-etched book with a white cover and no name, said without even looking up, "Good, Weasley, because if you remember this, then there wouldn't be enough room in your brain to remember the dates of exams."
Ron groaned at Elian but instantly beamed as he saw Hagrid shuffling into view, hiding something behind his back. He looked very out of place in his moleskin overcoat.
"Hagrid!" Ron exclaimed. "What are you doing in the library?"
"Jus' lookin'," he said, in a shifty voice that got their interest at once. "An' what're you lot up ter?" He looked suddenly suspicious.
"Yer not still lookin' fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?"
"Oh, we found out who he is ages ago," said Ron impressively. "And we know what that dog's guarding, it's a Philosopher's St–"
"Shhhh!" Hagrid looked around quickly to see if anyone was listening. "Don' go shoutin' about it, what's the matter with yeh?"
"There are a few things we wanted to ask you, as a matter of fact," said Harry, "about what's guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy –"
"SHHHH!" said Hagrid again. "Listen – come an' see me later, I'm not promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin', mind, but don' go rabbitin' about it in here, students aren' s'pposed ter know..They'll think I've told yeh –"
"See you later, then," said Harry.
Hagrid shuffled off.
But as Hagrid shuffled off, Elian caught a clear glimpse of what he was hiding, and he knew exactly what it was.
"Come with me, Weasley," Elian said abruptly, standing up.
"Where?" Ron asked, startled.
"To the section Hagrid was just in."
Harry leaned forward. "Do you think it's something to do with the Philosopher's Stone?"
"No," Elian replied, his tone calm but certain. "But it might be something else..."
He led Ron into the rows of shelves, where he quickly noticed something missing. The familiar copy of Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit, the very one he'd borrowed months ago for Tuffy, was gone. Ron's eyes widened as he scanned the shelves. The whole section was lined with books about dragons, and it didn't take him long to put the pieces together. "Blimey," he muttered. "He's up to something with dragons... I'd bet anything on it." With his brother Charlie working with them in Romania, Ron didn't need much more to recognize the signs.
Ron and Elian return after a minute of looking around.
"So, what was Hagrid hiding?" Hermione asked.
"Dragons!" Ron whispered after slamming a bunch of books he took from the section on the table. "Hagrid was looking up stuff about dragons! Look at these: Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland; From Egg to Inferno, A Dragon Keeper's Guide."
"Hagrid's always wanted a dragon, he told me so the first time I ever met him," said Harry.
"But it's against our laws," Ron said firmly. "Dragon-breeding was outlawed by the Warlocks' Convention of 1709, everyone knows that. It's impossible to keep them hidden from Muggles—imagine trying to explain a dragon in your back garden. And you can't tame them, it's too dangerous. You should see the burns Charlie's got from the wild ones in Romania."
Elian, listening in silence, slipped a hand inside his robes and gently patted Tuffy, who was curled up fast asleep. A faint smile tugged at his lips. Unlike the wild beasts Ron was describing, Tuffy's shrunken size made him far less of a risk, and his habit of sleeping through most of the day spared Elian from too much trouble, or too much explaining.
When they knocked on the gamekeeper's door an hour later, Elian, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were surprised to find all the curtains drawn tight.
"Who is it?" Hagrid's voice called from inside before he opened the door a crack. Once he saw them, he ushered the four in quickly and bolted the door behind them.
The room was stifling. Despite the warm spring day, a fire roared in the grate, making the hut feel more like a furnace. Elian's eyes narrowed. Between the heat, the secrecy, and the books Hagrid had been thumbing through, there was little doubt in his mind what Hagrid was up to. Still, he kept quiet. If he was right, Hagrid would tell them soon enough.
Hagrid busied himself with the kettle, clumsily setting out mugs of tea and offering stoat sandwiches, which everyone politely declined.
"So – yeh wanted to ask me somethin'?"
"Yes," said Harry. There was no point beating about the bush. "We were wondering if you could tell us what's guarding the Philosopher's Stone apart from Fluffy."
Hagrid frowned at him.
"O' course I can't," he said. "Number one, I don' know meself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn' tell yeh if I could. That Stone's here fer a good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts – I s'ppose yeh've worked that out an' all? Beats me how yeh even know abou' Fluffy."
"Oh, come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you do know — you know everything that goes on round here," said Hermione in a warm, flattering voice.
Hagrid's beard twitched, and they could tell he was smiling.
"We only wondered who had done the guarding, really," Hermione went on. "We wondered who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you."
Hagrid's chest swelled at her words.
"Careful, Granger, you could make a career in politics," Elian whispered, earning an elbow from her in the ribs that shut him up.
"Well, I don't s'pose it could hurt ter tell yeh that … let's see … he borrowed Fluffy from me … then some o' the teachers did enchantments … Professor Sprout – Professor Flitwick – Professor McGonagall –" he ticked them off on his fingers, "Professor Quirrell – an' Dumbledore himself did somethin', o' course. Hang on, I've forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape."
"Snape?" Harry, Ron, and Hermione asked in unison, certain he was trying to steal the Stone.
Elian, however, was lost in thought. As Hagrid listed the professors who had enchanted the protections, a sudden realization struck him. His black stud had reacted the first time he entered the third-floor corridor, and his bracelet had reacted at Quirrell. He still didn't know who had sent Tuffy's egg or how his ring had shrunk the dragon, but more importantly, two of his ornaments had reacted to locations and people connected to the Philosopher's Stone. If the Stone could help him unravel the mystery of his ornaments, perhaps it was more important than he had first thought.
Elian then, in an admiring tone, said to Hagrid, "With how much Dumbledore trusts you, Hagrid, I'm pretty sure you've told no one how to get past Fluffy."
Hagrid beamed at the praise. Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged a look at Elian, surprised by his sudden regained interest in the Philosopher's Stone, but they said nothing.
"Yeh don' need ter flatter me, Elian," Hagrid said proudly. "But yeh're right, no one except me an' Dumbledore knows about it."
"Well, that's something," Harry muttered to the others. "Hagrid, can we open a window? I'm boiling."
"Can't, Harry, sorry," said Hagrid. Harry noticed him glance at the fire. He followed Hagrid's gaze and saw it too.
"Hagrid – what's that?"
But Harry, Ron, Elian, and Hermione already knew. At the very heart of the fire, underneath the kettle, was a huge, black egg.
"Ah," said Hagrid, fiddling nervously with his beard. "That's – er …"
"Where did you get it, Hagrid?" Ron asked, crouching closer to the fire. "It must've cost you a fortune."
"Won it," said Hagrid. "Las' night. I was down in the village havin' a few drinks an' got into a game o' cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest."
"But what are you going to do with it when it hatches?" Hermione asked.
"Well, I've bin doin' some readin',' said Hagrid, pulling a large book from under his pillow. 'Got this outta the library – Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit – it's a bit outta date, o' course, but it's all in here. Keep the egg in the fire, 'cause their mothers breathe on 'em, see, an' when it hatches, feed it on a bucket o' brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. An' see here – how ter recognise diff'rent eggs – what I got there's a Norwegian Ridgeback. They're rare, them."
He looked very pleased with himself, but Hermione didn't.
"Hagrid, you live in a wooden house," she said.
"Granger, I don't think the house is the problem here," Elian replied with a deadpan look.
"Oh, shut it, Elian. You know what I mean," Hermione snapped.
"What if I say I don't?" Elian shot back.
Hagrid, meanwhile, wasn't listening at all. He was humming cheerfully as he stoked the fire.
*
Harry, Ron, and Hermione now had something new to worry about: what would happen if anyone discovered Hagrid was hiding an illegal dragon in his hut. Elian, on the other hand, wasn't concerned at all. He had already made Hagrid promise to tell him a day before the egg hatched, and Hagrid had agreed gladly. Elian was confident that, just as his ring had shrunk Tuffy's size, it could do the same again.
"Wonder what it's like to have a peaceful life," Ron sighed, as evening after evening they slogged through the piles of homework assigned even after the Easter holidays. For Elian, though, this was already far more peaceful than life ever was at his house.
Hermione had now begun drawing up revision timetables for Harry and Ron, much to their misery. When she offered one to Elian, he waved it off.
"I revise whenever I want to, Granger. A timetable would only be a nuisance."
Hermione rolled her eyes, exasperated, but she had long since realised that, even if Elian rarely acted serious, he was without question a prodigy.
One evening in the Gryffindor common room, while Harry, Ron, and Hermione were buried in Potions notes, Elian was helping Harry and Ron review their homework (Hermione's work, of course, needed no checking). Just then, Marco swooped in with a note addressed to Elian. He read it quickly—it was from Hagrid, saying the egg would hatch by morning.
"What is it?" Ron asked eagerly, grateful for any excuse to stop revising.
"It's from Hagrid. He wants to show me a new magical creature," Elian lied with ease.
"At this hour?" Hermione pressed, frowning.
"Oh, I've gone to Hagrid's much later than this, Granger," Elian replied smoothly.
"Let's go together," Ron suggested, but Hermione wasn't about to let him wriggle out of work.
"Absolutely not, Ron," she said firmly. "Your Charms essay is still unfinished."
Ron groaned. Before he could rope Elian into backing him up, Elian had already slipped out, with no intention of revealing his ring or Tuffy to them.
Elian headed straight to Hagrid's hut. The moment he knocked, Hagrid pulled him inside, his face lit up with excitement.
"Look!" Hagrid squeaked, pointing at the egg resting in the fire. "See them faint white marks? Means it's ready ter hatch in just a few hours!"
"Hagrid," Elian said, his tone caught between admiration and request, "I really like how much dedication you're giving to this egg."
Hagrid beamed, his chest swelling with pride. "Thanks, Elian. I like yer interest in magical creatures, too."
"So," Elian continued carefully, "can I stay tonight? Just to see how you take care of it before it hatches?"
The pride drained from Hagrid's face in an instant. "Absolutely not, Elian. Yeh're still a student, an' yeh know the rules."
"I know, Hagrid," Elian said, giving his best attempt at wide, pleading eyes, "but I'd hate to miss seeing how you look after the egg right before it hatches. You're that good."
Hagrid hesitated. "I'm sorry, Elian, but rules are rules."
Elian let out a long sigh.
"So, that's how it's going to be," he muttered. Then a smirk crept across his face, his tone dipping into that space between sarcasm and seriousness.
"You're right, Hagrid—rules are rules. I'll leave then. But before I go, I just want to say how much I admire your… discipline. You'd never break the rules." His fingers tapped lightly on the table beside the egg. "And once I'm gone, I might casually mention this absolutely legal little pet of yours to Professor Dumbledore. I'm sure he'd love to… play with it."
Hagrid's eyes went wide, the color draining from his face.
"The choice is yours, Hagrid," Elian went on smoothly. "I've got plenty of time… but you might not."
Hagrid's face twisted with conflict. He rubbed the back of his neck and finally blurted, "Al'ight, Elian, yeh've won. But only for toni't."
"Oh, thank you, Hagrid," Elian replied in a mock-innocent tone, already sounding far too pleased with himself.
Hagrid groaned, sinking into a chair. "Merlin help me… I'm wo'ried about Hogwarts' future," he muttered under his breath, eyeing Elian, who was already sprawled comfortably on the sofa beside Fang.
The next morning, Elian was jolted awake by a voice that practically screamed.
"WAKE UP, ELIAN!"
Hermione stood over him, looking like she was one step away from murdering him. Behind her, Hagrid, Ron, and Harry were gathered around the table next to the egg, their expressions a mix of amusement and mock-sympathy as they stared down at Elian.
Elian sighed, already bracing himself.
"Look, Granger—"
"I'm not looking at anything, Elian," Hermione cut him off sharply. "Hagrid already told us everything."
Elian shot a side glance at Hagrid, who didn't notice under his excitement over the egg.
"What were you thinking? Staying overnight outside the dormitories?" Hermione continued, her voice tight with worry and frustration. "That's even worse than what Harry did!"
Before Elian could say anything, Hagrid's voice cut through the tension.
"It's nearly out!" he exclaimed, barely able to contain his excitement.
"That's more important than questioning me, Granger," Elian said to Hermione, quickly rising from the sofa and pulling up a chair next to Ron and Harry. Hermione frowned, but curiosity won out, and she followed.
They all watched the egg with bated breath. All at once, there was a scraping noise and the egg split open. The baby dragon flopped onto the table. It wasn't exactly pretty; Harry thought it looked like a crumpled, black umbrella. Its spiny wings were huge compared to its skinny, jet body, and it had a long snout with wide nostrils, stubs of horns, and bulging, orange eyes. It sneezed. A couple of sparks flew out of its snout.
"Isn't he beautiful?" Hagrid murmured. He reached out a hand to stroke the dragon's head. It snapped at his fingers, showing
pointed fangs.
"Bless him, look, he knows his mummy!" said Hagrid.
"Hagrid," said Hermione, "how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?"
Hagrid was about to answer when the colour suddenly drained from his face – he leapt to his feet and ran to the window.
"What's the matter?"
"Someone was lookin' through the gap in the curtains – it's a kid – he's runnin' back up ter the school."
Harry bolted to the door and looked out. Even at a distance there was no mistaking him.
Malfoy had seen the dragon.
While everyone else fretted over what Malfoy might do, Elian wasn't worried in the slightest. A smirk played on his lips as, unnoticed, he touched the dragon with the finger wearing his ring. Nothing happened.
Elian's eyes widened slightly. He realized, at last, that his ring didn't work on dragons in general—the size reduction had been unique to Tuffy and his plan to shrink Hagrid's new pet had now failed spectacularly.
Since that day, whenever Malfoy was around Elian, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, a nasty smirk would creep across his face—so unpleasant it was almost painful to look at.
"Next time, remind me not to share any big secrets with you three," Elian taunted at the breakfast table, after they told him that Malfoy might have overheard something about the Norwegian Ridgeback from them that day.
"We didn't knew that he was nearby," Ron protested.
"But you knew that you were in the Great Hall," Elian shot back, "the most crowded place in Hogwarts during breakfast."
"Cut it out, guys," Harry interjected. "We need to think about what to do now."
"We could try reasoning with Hagrid, see if he'll let the dragon go," Hermione suggested.
"I don't know about that, Granger," Elian said. "It's Hagrid we're talking about. I don't think he'd abandon a magical creature, no matter how much we try to reason with him."
Harry, Hermione, and Ron still wanted to give it a shot, and for the rest of the week, most of their free time was spent trying to persuade Hagrid to release the dragon.
Unsurprisingly, Hagrid remained adamant. The dragon had already tripled in size, and Hagrid had even given it a name: Norbert.
One evening, as Elian, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were racking their brains over how to convince Hagrid that Norbert would be fine without him, Harry suddenly turned to Ron.
"Charlie," he said.
Ron blinked. "Um… my name's Ron, Harry," he replied, looking confused.
"No – Charlie. Your brother, Charlie. In Romania. He studies dragons. We could send Norbert to him! Charlie can take care of him and then release him back into the wild."
"Brilliant!" said Hermione and Ron at the same time. Even Elian gave an approving nod.
They went to Hagrid and told him about sending Norbert to Charlie, to which he finally agreed.
*
The following week dragged by. Wednesday night found Elian, Hermione, and Harry sitting alone in the common room, long after everyone else had gone to bed. The clock on the wall had just chimed midnight when the portrait hole burst open. Ron appeared out of nowhere as he pulled off Harry's Invisibility Cloak. He had been down at Hagrid's hut, helping him feed Norbert, who was now eating dead rats by the crate.
"It bit me!" he said, showing them his hand, which was wrapped in a bloody handkerchief. "I'm not going to be able to hold a quill for a week. I tell you, that dragon's the most horrible animal I've ever met, but the way Hagrid goes on about it, you'd think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit. When it bit me he told me off for frightening it. And when I left, he was singing it a lullaby."
"Weasley, there's this thing called common sense," Elian said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Dragons are literally known as wizard killers. Volunteering to hand-feed one without any experience? Not exactly the brightest move."
"Try showing sympathy for once, Elian," Ron groaned.
"Oh, I am showing sympathy, Weasley," Elian replied in an exaggeratedly gentle tone, his face mock-innocent.
There was a tap on the dark window.
"It's Hedwig!" said Harry, hurrying to let her in. "She'll have Charlie's answer!"
The four of them put their heads together to read the note.
Dear Ron,
How are you? Thanks for the letter – I'd be glad to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it won't be easy getting him here. I think the best thing will be to send him over with some friends of mine who are coming to visit me
next week. Trouble is, they mustn't be seen carrying an illegal dragon. Could you get the Ridgeback up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and
take him away while it's still dark. Send me an answer as soon as possible.
Love,
Charlie
They looked at each other.
"We've got the Invisibility Cloak," said Harry. "It shouldn't be too difficult – I think the Cloak's big enough to cover three of us and Norbert."
"I mean, if you can sneak out at night just to look at a mirror, Potter, this should be nothing," Elian said dryly.
Ron and Hermione let out weak chuckles at that, then eventually nodded in agreement with Harry. Anything was worth it if it meant getting rid of Norbert—and wiping the smug look off Malfoy's face.
*
There was a hitch. By next morning, Ron's bitten hand had swollen to twice its usual size. He didn't know whether it was safe to go to Madam Pomfrey – would she recognise a dragon bite? By the afternoon, though, he had no choice. The cut had turned a nasty shade of green. It looked as if Norbert's fangs were poisonous.
Elian, Harry, and Hermione rushed up to the hospital wing at the end of the day to find Ron in a terrible state in bed.
"It's not just my hand," he whispered, "although that feels like it's about to fall off. Malfoy told Madam Pomfrey he wanted to borrow one of my books so he could come and have a good laugh at me. He kept threatening to tell her what really bit me – I've told her it was a dog, but I don't think she believes me – I shouldn't have hit him at the Quidditch match, that's why he's doing this."
Harry and Hermione tried to calm Ron down.
"It'll all be over at midnight on Saturday," said Harry.
"Or you might just die from that dragon bite before then, Weasley," Elian added dryly.
Hermione jabbed her elbow into his side. "Don't make it worse, Elian!" she hissed.
"Ouch!" Elian muttered, rubbing his ribs.
Ron suddenly sat upright, eyes wide. "Oh, no," He said, panic rising in his voice, "The book Malfoy took had Charlie's letter inside! He'll know we're sending Norbert away!"
Harry, Elian, and Hermione didn't even get the chance to reply. At that moment Madam Pomfrey bustled over and shooed them away, insisting Ron needed rest.
*
"It's too late to change the plan now," Harry told Elian and Hermione. "We haven't got time to send Charlie another owl and this could be our only chance to get rid of Norbert. We'll have to risk it. And we have got the Invisibility Cloak, Malfoy doesn't know about that."
They found Fang the boarhound sitting outside with a bandaged tail when they went to tell Hagrid, who opened a window to talk to them.
"I won't let you in," Hagrid puffed. "Norbert's at a tricky stage – nothin' I can't handle."
When they told him about Charlie's letter, his eyes filled with tears, although that might also have been because Norbert had just bitten him on the leg.
"Aargh! It's all right, he only got my boot – jus' playin' – he's only a baby, after all."
The baby banged its tail on the wall, making the windows rattle.
"The dragon really is a menace," Elian said dryly.
"Well, it is still just a baby," Harry added. They left, wishing Saturday would come faster.
*
They might have felt sorry for Hagrid when the time came to say goodbye to Norbert if they hadn't been so anxious about what lay ahead. The night was dark and overcast, and they reached Hagrid's hut later than planned. On the way, they'd been forced to duck out of sight until Peeves finished trying his latest shenanigans on Elian, which, as always, failed spectacularly.
Hagrid had Norbert packed and ready in a large crate.
"He's got lots o' rats an' some brandy fer the journey," said Hagrid in a muffled voice. "An' I've packed his teddy bear in case he gets lonely."
From inside the crate came ripping noises that sounded to Harry as though teddy was having his head torn off.
"Bye-bye, Norbert!" Hagrid sobbed, as Harry, Elian and Hermione covered the crate with the Invisibility Cloak and stepped underneath it themselves. "Mummy will never forget you!"
How they managed to get the crate back up to the castle, they never knew. Midnight ticked nearer as they heaved Norbert up the marble staircase in the Entrance Hall and along the dark corridors.
Thanks to one of Elian's hidden passageways in the first floor corridor, they were able to avoid the endless climb of the usual staircases. On the final staircase to the tallest tower, however, they saw two people grappling with each other ten feet away. A lamp flared. Professor McGonagall, in a tartan dressing-gown and a hairnet, had Malfoy by the ear.
"Detention!" she shouted. "And twenty points from Slytherin! Wandering around in the middle of the night, how dare you –"
"You don't understand, Professor, Harry Potter's coming – he's got a dragon!"
"What utter rubbish! How dare you tell such lies! Come on – I shall see Professor Snape about you, Malfoy!"
The steep spiral staircase up to the top of the tower seemed the easiest thing in the world after that. Not until they'd stepped out into the cold night air did they throw off the Cloak, glad to be able to breathe properly again. Hermione did a sort of jig.
"Malfoy's got detention! I could sing!" Hermione whispered, giddy with relief.
"Oh, I'd pay to hear 'Twelve Uses of Dragon's Blood' set to a tune, Granger," Elian said with mock drama.
Hermione groaned. "Why do you always have to ruin it?"
"Not now, you two," Harry cut in firmly, though there was the faintest smile on his face.
Still chuckling over Malfoy's punishment, they settled in to wait, Norbert thrashing restlessly inside his crate. Ten minutes later, four broomsticks swooped down out of the night sky.
Charlie's friends turned out to be a cheerful bunch, full of quick grins despite the risky task ahead. They showed Harry, Elian, and Hermione the harness they'd rigged to carry Norbert safely between their brooms. Everyone pitched in to secure the dragon, who snapped and flapped in protest before finally being buckled tight.
After warm handshakes and hurried thanks, the riders kicked off from the tower. With the crate suspended below them, they rose higher and higher until they melted into the dark.
Norbert was going… going… gone.
They slipped back down the spiral staircase, their steps almost floating. With Norbert gone and Malfoy in detention, it felt as though a huge weight had lifted. What could possibly spoil their happiness?
The answer was waiting at the foot of the stairs. Out of the shadows loomed Filch, his lantern casting long, mean-spirited beams across the corridor.
"Well, well, well," he whispered, eyes glinting. "We are in trouble."
Elian sighed, his voice flat with exhaustion. "Of course. Here we go again."
They'd left the Invisibility Cloak on top of the tower.