A flicker of disappointment crossed Hagrid's face. Though not the sharpest, he grasped Erwin's point clearly enough: keeping a dragon was out of the question. This wasn't the first time Erwin had laid it out, and Hagrid had braced himself for it.
He led them inside the hut and pulled out a tiny dragon from its makeshift nest. The newborn was no bigger than Hagrid's massive palm, its scales glinting faintly in the dim light.
"Look here, Erwin," Hagrid boomed, beaming with pride. "This is Norbert! Ain't he a beauty? Like a proper work of art, he is!"
Erwin eyed the creature, admitting to himself that dragons lived up to their legendary status. Even he felt a spark of curiosity. This one didn't match the storm-summoning beasts of old tales, but it had a raw, mythical allure all the same.
As a good friend, though, Erwin wouldn't let Hagrid down. He nodded approvingly. "Impressive. Even the smallest dragons carry that fierce edge."
Draco, hovering nearby, buzzed with excitement. He had a real passion for dragons—his nickname back home was Little Dragon, after all. Whenever he could, he'd pester his father to visit the dragon reserves. But those beasts were wild and dangerous; this was his first time getting so close to one.
Norbert perched on the rough wooden table, his yellow eyes blazing with defiance. He scanned the group, tiny flames flickering at the edges of his mouth where new teeth were budding, as if sizing up everything for destruction.
Then his gaze locked on Erwin. In an instant, the fire dimmed, replaced by a puzzled tilt of his head. Moments later, Norbert scuttled forward, stopping right at Erwin's feet.
Hagrid chuckled. "Looks like Norbert's taken a shine to you, Erwin!"
Erwin stayed silent, knowing full well why. All magical creatures warmed to him, especially dragons, thanks to his innate affinity. Beyond that, his Draconic bloodline drew them in naturally, even if his family hadn't passed down full command over the beasts.
He extended a hand toward Norbert, who didn't flinch.
Hermione gasped. "Erwin, don't—that's too risky!"
Harry nodded vigorously. "Yeah, he's still a dragon, no matter how small!"
Even Draco and Hagrid, dragon enthusiasts both, exchanged uneasy glances. No one wanted Erwin rushing in like that with a cub.
"It's fine," Erwin assured them. "If he meant trouble, I'd handle it. But I don't think he does, do you, Norbert?"
The dragon let out a soft, rumbling purr, his fierce stare softening into something almost adoring.
Erwin grinned and gently tapped Norbert's snout. A cool, smooth sensation spread through his fingertip—like polished steel chilled by frost. Surprisingly pleasant.
"Alright," Erwin murmured, "but Norbert's a mouthful. How about just Bertie? I'll reach out to a reserve soon; they'll take you in and use a shorter name—easier all around."
Hagrid blinked in confusion, as did the others. "Er, what're you on about, Erwin?"
"Just chatting with him," Erwin explained casually. "I've got a knack for it—talking to magical creatures."
Hagrid's face lit up like a firework. He didn't question the impossibility; he just envied it, coveting that gift himself.
Hermione's world tilted. Was this wizarding normal? She'd always prided herself on her studies, but if talents like this were standard... why hadn't she discovered hers? Glancing at Draco's stunned expression confirmed it: he was as ordinary as she felt in that moment.
Harry, meanwhile, pondered quietly. His own chats with snakes suddenly seemed less unique. Maybe it was just another wizarding quirk.
Erwin caught their reactions but didn't elaborate. He wasn't one for pretense—why hide what he could do?
Turning to Hagrid, he asked, "Mind if I take a bit of his blood? For research."
Hagrid scratched his beard. "If Norbert's game, sure. Why not?"
Erwin chuckled. "He won't mind." Sure enough, the dragon nodded and stretched out a foreleg, his leathery wings half-covering his face like a shy curtain.
"Easy there, little guy," Erwin teased. "It won't sting. Such a timid sort!"
Wizarding advancements had made drawing dragon blood routine by now—long before Dumbledore's public endorsements. Earlier methods were cruder, but modern spells kept it painless.
With precise wandwork, Erwin filled two vials without a hitch.
Hagrid frowned. "That ain't too much, is it? Won't hurt him?"
Erwin shook his head. "Not at all. Dragons are tough; this is a drop in the ocean for him."
He pocketed the vials and gave Norbert's head a playful flick. "All done, you big scaredy-dragon."
Norbert peeked from behind his wings, flexed his claws—no pain—then nuzzled Erwin's hand affectionately.
Erwin scratched under his chin. "Hagrid, you've got two weeks tops with him. Draco, owl your father; get someone from the reserve to collect him. That way, you can visit whenever."
Draco nodded eagerly, thrilled at the prospect.
Hagrid sighed, reluctant. "Two weeks? Already? Can't we stretch it? I ain't ready to say goodbye to this little fella."