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After chatting a bit longer, Newt stood up to take his leave. His schedule for the day was quite tight; having visited old friends at Hogwarts, he now needed to head straight to America to rendezvous with his wife.
Dumbledore suggested that Richie escort Newt to the Hogwarts reception room. Richie agreed and followed Newt out of the Headmaster's office.
The two walked in silence until they reached the door of the reception room. Newt stopped, turned to Richie, and said, "Richie? Looking at you, it's almost as if I'm looking at myself."
Richie paused and looked up at Newt, completely confused.
Newt continued, "When I was a student, I showed an absolute obsession with magical creatures. I secretly interacted with them around the school and even found a like-minded friend."
"But then, during an experiment we were conducting on a magical creature, a mistake led to an accident," Newt sighed. "The experiment went out of control, and a student was severely injured."
"For certain reasons, I took the blame for that friend, and ultimately, I was expelled from Hogwarts."
Newt looked at Richie, his eyes filled with complex emotion. "I'm telling you this as a warning. Magical creatures are not like us wizards. They have their own way of life. If we forcefully interfere, it often backfires, creating consequences that no one can handle. This is especially true for powerful magical creatures."
"The best outcome for them is to be where they belong, to release their nature, and to enjoy it."
Hearing Newt's speech, Richie instantly realized that Newt had misunderstood something. Like... does he think I'm secretly raising a magical creature? Specifically, does he think I'm raising a dragon?
Given Newt's status as an expert on magical creatures, Richie wasn't entirely surprised. He had just been near a Norwegian Ridgeback; he probably had some scent on him. Richie discreetly sniffed the air but couldn't detect any unusual smells, so he just let it go.
"I understand, Mr. Scamander," Richie said calmly.
Seeing Richie's composed demeanor, Newt slowly let out a breath. "I hope you truly listened, and that you have the capability to resolve this issue."
With that, Newt turned and opened the reception room door. But then he paused and looked back. "If you really can't figure out a way, you can always ask me for help."
He waited a moment. When Richie didn't respond, Newt continued, "Oh, right. If something unexpected happens, you can try massaging it."
Newt let go of the door handle and began demonstrating a technique in mid-air. "First, put on dragon-hide gloves. Use your left palm to stroke counterclockwise along the midline of the skull, right at the diamond-shaped indentation of the reversed scale. Your right hand should..."
"If you do this, it will feel safe and quickly fall asleep," Newt explained meticulously, his movements precise, as if he were actually holding a baby dragon. "Did you get all that?"
Richie blinked, then nodded seriously. "I got it."
Newt gave Richie a long, deep look before swiftly stepping through the door. "No need to see me out. Go do what you need to do."
Watching Newt disappear, Richie thought for a moment and decided to head straight out of the castle. The hint was so obvious it was practically a direct order; it would be rude not to check on Norbert now.
However, this wasn't his responsibility. He wasn't the one raising the dragon—Hagrid was. The most Richie needed to do was pass this calming massage technique along to Hagrid.
Richie walked out to Hagrid's hut and knocked on the wooden door.
"Oh, who is it?"
"It's me, Richie."
The door cracked open slightly, and Hagrid's face appeared in the gap. "Richie, you should go back. There's no way I'm sending Norbert away!"
Seeing Hagrid so defensive, Richie shrugged. "Actually, I'm not here about that. I just ran into a Magizoologist, and he taught me a massage technique to calm Norbert down. I figured you might need it."
"Oh! Well, come in then!" Hagrid quickly opened the door. Once Richie stepped inside, Hagrid peeked his head out, double-checked that no one else was there, and shut the door tightly.
Inside, Richie noticed that the windows were covered with newspaper, and the floor was littered with torn book pages. The only red sofa in the room was covered in claw marks and scorch marks.
Norbert was currently tightly swaddled in a bath towel, with a rock cake jammed in his mouth.
"Oh," Hagrid rubbed his hands together awkwardly. "He kept breathing fire, and I was worried he'd hurt his throat, so I gave him some cold porridge. But it just gave him diarrhea..."
"I read in the book that dragons like alcohol, so I got some brandy and fed it to him. But then he just got incredibly hyper... I had no choice but to tie him up for now."
Richie raised an eyebrow. "Dragons like alcohol?"
He pulled out his wand and cast the Mending Charm. "Reparo!"
The torn pages on the floor flew together, reforming into the book From Egg to Inferno: A Dragon Keeper's Guide.
Richie picked it up and quickly flipped to the section Hagrid mentioned. At the bottom of the page, it read:
> A baby dragon's nervous system is undeveloped. To protect it and prevent injury, alcohol—
Richie turned the page and read the continuation:
> —is strictly prohibited. Ensure its feed is kept at a temperature above 60 degrees Celsius.
"..."
Perfect. Hagrid had managed to trigger every single landmine.
Richie handed the book to Hagrid, utterly speechless. Hagrid looked at it and gasped. "Oh, how could this happen?!"
Hagrid looked as lost as a child, spinning in circles, full of regret. "I completely missed the rest of the text! I'm such a terrible mother!"
"Can't you be a father?" Richie joked lightly, then offered some comfort. "Don't worry, Hagrid. Dragons are incredibly tough. A couple of feeding mistakes won't cause permanent damage. Next time, just prepare some volcanic ash and super-hot porridge."
"But right now, we need to calm Norbert down."
Richie walked over to the sofa and carefully picked up the squirming bundle. Hagrid quickly hurried over to watch.
Following Newt's instructions, Richie located Norbert's reversed scale and pressed it counterclockwise. Since he didn't have dragon-hide gloves, he had to do it barehanded.
The moment he pressed it, Norbert's entire body stiffened, and his eyes suddenly cleared.
There's a saying: Touch a dragon's reversed scale, and you will surely die. But for a baby dragon, the only beings that could touch that scale were its mother or an overwhelmingly powerful enemy—either way, an entity it couldn't fight back against.
So, Norbert went into standby mode. And with Richie's next movements, the little dragon learned that since he couldn't resist, he might as well enjoy it.