Pride

Nothing changed for Ron or Harry following the killing of the troll. Flitwick took them aside to let them know he was available if they needed to talk to someone, but neither felt there was much to say. The troll had been alive, and then it wasn’t. They hadn’t intended to kill it. It was just something that had happened. Sometimes one of the Gryffindors would look at them, but never approached. They were in different houses, and had no classes together. 

The most notable difference was that Hermione was now in Neville’s friend group, sitting apart from the other Gryffindor first-year girls. 

The castle buzzed with excitement as the first quidditch game of the season neared. Rumors had gone around saying the Boy-Who-Lived was on the team. Ron tried to get Fred and George to explain, but they were having fun keeping him in the dark. 

“What position would he even play?” Harry asked him the day before the Gryffindor-Slytherin match. 

They were sitting together in a courtyard, huddled around a small conjured fire. Neville, Hermione, Seamus, and Dean were sat together doing much the same. Harry had checked out Anatomia by Herophilos from the library, one of the many texts thought burned in the destruction of the Great Library of Alexandria. It was a rudimentary anatomy book, revolutionary in its time over two thousand years prior, notable for having explicit prints of the hundreds of prisoners Herophilos had examined during his public vivisections. Very little had been added to the field until the 16th century, and Harry had been unable to find those more recent books. Ron and Harry speculated this was because human transfiguration was far too advanced for the lower years, though a muggle library would certainly have those kinds of texts available to anyone. 

“Keeper?” Ron suggested. “But Wood is a brilliant keeper. Fred and George think he’ll go professional. They’ve got openings for chaser and seeker. Charlie was seeker last year, you know.”

Ron rubbed his arms. Owls to Charlie and Bill took a long time, and they didn’t want to overwork Hedwig with international trips. Usually his mum and dad passed messages on. 

“Seeker?” Harry said, frowning at the group of Gryffindors. “Really?”

Ron shrugged, holding his hands out to their little fire. Harry went back to his book, examining a particularly detailed sketch of a bisected brain. They looked up at the sound of crunching grass and saw Snape crossing the yard. He looked over at Neville, mouth a moue of distaste, then his eyes fell upon Ron and Harry. He limped over to them with determination. 

“What’s that you’ve got there, Potter?”

“A book,” Harry said. Ron bit his lips together.

“Library books are not to be taken outside the school,” Snape said. “Give it to me. Five points from Ravenclaw.”

“It’s the only one I could find!” Harry protested as Snape snatched the book out of his hand. “What am I—”

Ron put a hand on his arm. 

“Another five points, I think,” Snape said, “for failing to obey a direct order.”

“I—”

Ron squeezed his arm, and they watched Snape limp away again. 

“Dickhead,” Harry said. “I’m talking to Flitwick about this. Everyone in Ravenclaw reads books outside. Granger’s got one too!”

“Wonder what’s wrong with his leg?” Ron said. 

“Got bit by Fluffy, I bet,” Harry muttered darkly.

At dinner, Harry walked up to the head table to talk to Flitwick. Snape was missing, otherwise he probably would have confronted the man directly. 

He returned to the table looking put out. 

“Flitwick told me to ask him myself,” Harry said. “I think he’s deluded. Snape hates me, he’s not going to give it back just because I asked nicely.”

“Let’s check the staff room,” Ron said. “He might feel pressured if other teachers are around.”

They made their way through the entrance hall and the door opposite the Great Hall. The corridor was silent. They passed unused rooms, Filch’s office, and reached the staffroom. Harry knocked, but there was no reply. 

“Maybe he’s left it in there?” Harry said, after further knocking met silence. He pushed the door open and peered in, Ron leaning over to look as well.

Snape had his robes pulled up, exposing a bloody and mangled leg. Filch handed him bandages. The two were alone. 

“Blasted thing,” Snape said. “How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?”

“Excuse me, sir?” Harry said, pushing the door further open.

“Harry!” Ron hissed. 

“Potter!”

Snape dropped his robe over his leg, looking at Harry with pure rage. 

“I just wanted to get my book back, sir.”

“Get out! Out!”

“I’ll leave when I get my book back,” Harry said, shaking Ron’s hand off. 

“Fifty points from Gryf—Ravenclaw!” Snape shouted, standing up awkwardly. 

“What?” Harry said. “Are you mental? Flitwick told me to come ask you!”

“Shouldn’t you go to Madam Pomfrey?” Ron said. 

Snape seized the door and slammed it in their faces. 

“Git,” Harry muttered, glaring at the shut door. “I hope his leg falls off.”

“Come on, before he takes more points,” Ron said. 

“I’m going straight to Flitwick and telling him what happened,” Harry said, marching back to the Great Hall. “Fifty points for asking a question, honestly!”

Perhaps it was the upcoming quidditch game, or the glow of satisfaction that surrounded Flitwick—he had both restored the points, got Harry’s book back, and added another ten points to Ravenclaw for strength in the face of adversity and dedication to the pursuit of knowledge—but Snape looked terrible. 

“Must’ve been the three-headed dog,” Ron said to Harry. 

“Three headed dog?” Morag asked, having caught the last part. “You mean a cerberus?”

Harry snapped his fingers. “That’s what they’re called! They’ve got one in Greek mythology.”

“Harry was raised by muggles,” Ron said. “He’s curious what things in muggle stories are actually real.”

“Oh, loads,” Morag said. “There are a ton of creatures with more than one head. Runespoors, those are snakes with three heads. Some ogres are born with two heads. Zmei, those are three-headed wyverns, chimera, hydra…”

Ron and Harry looked at each other, silently agreeing not to tell Morag, who seemed somewhat fanatical about highly dangerous magical creatures, that there was an actual cerberus in the castle. 

Over at the Gryffindor table, people were crowding Neville as he grimly ate his sausages. 

“Who are we hoping wins?” Ron asked. “Oliver Wood looks like his life depends on this match.”

“I’m sure he’s like that every match,” Harry said, spearing one of his own sausages. 

“We can play next year,” Ron said, patting Harry’s shoulder. 

“We aren’t even allowed to fly,” Harry said. 

Ron’s eyes lit up. “Who said anything about allowed?”

Ron and Harry sat among the other Ravenclaws in their part of the stands. Across from them someone had written on a sheet Longbottom for President,  along with a rearing lion and a quaffle, flashing different colors.

Soon the two teams came out of the changing rooms and were in the air. Neville looked small compared to the other players, but joined two older Gryffindor girls in formation. 

"Chaser, then," Ron said with a frown. "I think that's Alicia Spinnet as a seeker. The twins said she was a reserve chaser last year."

The commentator Lee Jordan confirmed this as Alicia circled over the field, trying to shake off the Slytherin seeker, Terrence Higgs. She dived once, but the Slytherin captain, Marcus Flint, blocked her.

Dean in the Gryffindor stands started shouting about red cards, while Neville took the penalty shot. The quaffle sailed lazily through a hoop.

Neville mostly stayed behind the two other chasers, Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell, though bludgers flew at him even when he wasn't in possession of the quaffle.

"What's wrong with his broom?" Harry asked, squinting. "He's been flying pretty carefully the whole game. What gives?"

Neville's broom jerked wildly, nearly throwing him off, and people in the crowd began to notice, pointing and gasping. Fred and George gave up on the bludgers to circle beneath him.

"Someone must be jinxing it," Ron muttered. "Someone powerful. The Nimbus has all sorts of enchantments to prevent interference. It's the current international league standard."

"One of the older Slytherins?" Harry asked, looking at their stands. Ron looked too, and while a few of them seemed amused, like Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson, most looked concerned that an eleven-year-old was about to fall to his death.

The Slytherins were racking up points, and Alicia had given up looking for the snitch in favor of watching Neville's broom climb higher and higher, flinging him around.

"Why isn't anyone calling a time out?" Harry said, standing up to shout. "Time out!" 

Ron stood up too, while others picked up Harry's shout. He scanned the crowd for the perpetrator. He glanced at the teachers' stand and was surprised to see a sudden gout of blue flame that disappeared just as quickly. He looked back to see Neville climb onto his broom, but when Oliver Wood finally got Madam Hooch's attention, it was too late. While the entire Gryffindor team had been distracted, Higgs had caught the snitch.

Ron and Harry lingered in the stands, watching Neville's blank expression as he was consoled, by both the team and his friends.

"Hooch is awful," Harry said. "She just sat there like a clod on her broom."

"There should be a rematch," Ron agreed. "Brooms don't just go out of control like that."

"I wonder where they're headed off," Harry said, watching as the quartet of Gryffindor first-years trudged after Hagrid.

"Let's find out," Ron said, tugging Harry's hat down over his ears.

"Hey!"

"It's cold," Ron said, standing up. "Come on."

They hurried over to Hagrid's hut, watching Neville and the others walk inside. Ron and Harry snuck around the side to eavesdrop through a window. There was nowhere really to hide aside from behind a few massive pumpkins that had yet to be harvested.

"Can you hear anything?" Ron whispered. Harry waved his hand to shush him, pressing his ear against the hut.

After a few minutes Harry sank down, and Ron crouched next to him. "Well?"

"Granger says she and Thomas saw Snape cursing Longbottom. They’ve noticed him limping around too, and think he's trying to get whatever Fluffy's guarding." Harry grinned at him. "He really is named Fluffy. Maybe you are a Seer?"

Ron snorted. "Let's go back to the castle before they catch us."

"Mum and dad are visiting Charlie in Romania," Ron said when Harry asked about his Christmas plans. "They'd invite us along, but…you know."

Harry frowned at him. It was past curfew, and the whole of Hogwarts was covered in pristine snow. Hedwig had joined them despite the late hour, watching keenly as the two boys broke into the broomshed and pulled out a pair of the better looking Cleansweeps. It was dark except for the sliver of moon shining down, illuminating them in its cool, silver light.

"I could pay," Harry offered a little awkwardly. "I don't mind."

"I know," Ron said wryly. "Mum and dad would say no. I'm sure Bill and Charlie already offered."

"That's…" Harry trailed off, biting his lip.

"It's stupid," Ron said, laying forward on his broom, watching Harry. "But they were both in Gryffindor. It's a matter of pride. They don't want to ask kids for help."

"I guess that makes sense," Harry mumbled.

"We'll be spending the holidays together either way," Ron said. "Just here instead of the Burrow."

"They'd let me stay over?" Harry asked quietly. 

Ron flew slowly over to nudge him. "Mum's already adopted you. Of course you'd be with us for the holidays."

Harry rubbed his nose, then nodded. Hedwig flew by, hooting, and headed back for the Owlery.

"It's too dark for her to hunt," Harry said, watching her flight, then looking up at the stars. 

A short time later, they put the brooms away and snuck up to Ravenclaw Tower. It was warm inside, the windows snug against the encroaching winter, and the sky was just as brilliant and beautiful through the frosty glass. As he watched Harry face relax into sleep, Ron thought it had been a perfect night.

The last day of term, Ron and Harry were on their way to lunch when they found their path blocked by three Slytherins, four Gryffindors, a remarkably tall fir tree, and one Hagrid. 

“Do you need help, Hagrid?” Ron asked, taking out his wand. “We could just levitate—”

“Nah, I’m alright, thanks, Ron.”

“Would you mind moving out of the way, then?” Malfoy asked. He smiled at Ron. “Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose. That hut of Hagrid’s must seem like a palace compared to what your family’s used to.”

Ron glared at him. “My family gets along fine.”

“I really like your house,” Harry said to him. “I imagine Mafloy’s parents need a big manor to avoid having to look at him.”

“Weasley,” Snape said, emerging from the stairs leading to the dungeon. “Why is your wand out? Five points from Ravenclaw!”

“He was offering to help me, Professor Snape,” Hagrid said, looking out from behind the tree. “To help levitate the trees.”

“Be that as it may, no magic is allowed in the corridors,” Snape said. He turned to Ron. “Five points, and be grateful it isn’t more. Move along, all of you.”

Ron thought about levitating the tree just to spite Snape, but put his wand away. 

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle shoved past the tree, leaving a mess of needles on the floor. 

“Rotten luck,” Dean offered. Ron just shook his head, and he and Harry followed Hagrid into the Great Hall. McGonagall and Flitwick were busy conjuring and placing Christmas decorations. 

“Professor,” Harry asked, making a beeline for Flitwick.

“Yes, Mr. Potter?”

“Could we help decorate? It’s just, Ron wanted to help Hagrid carry the trees in, and Professor Snape took points for Ron having his wand out.”

A dark look crossed Flitwick’s face. “Did he? Ah, Hagrid, the last tree! Place that in the far corner would you?” He turned back to Harry and Ron. “You two could help place the tinsel around the tree! It would be good practice for your levitation charms. And ten points. Each.”

Grinning, Harry walked over to the tree with Ron. “It’s nice to have an adult who actually listens to me,” Harry said. “That would never work at home. I mean, at the Dursleys.”

Ron snickered. “Thanks. I don’t think I would have bothered. 

Neville and the others were talking to Hagrid. 

“The library?” Hagrid was saying. “Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren’t yeh?”

“She wants us to look up Nicolas Flamel, since you mentioned him,” Seamus said, smirking. 

“You what?" Hagrid said, following the four Gryffindors out of the Great Hall. Ron and Harry were left alone with the tree, looking after them. 

“Nicolas Flamel?” Harry said, frowning. “I’ve heard that name before.”

“It’s on Dumbledore’s Chocolate Frog card,” Ron said. He’d got about twenty of Dumbledore’s cards. “He’s an alchemist, I think.”

“Now, boys,” Flitwick said, joining them, “the conjuration is a bit beyond you right now, so I will take care of that while you place the decorations.”

“Yes, professor.”

Ron woke up early on Christmas, just to see the look on Harry’s face. He was completely astounded. 

“Happy Christmas,” Ron said, smiling. 

“I’ve got presents,” Harry said quietly. He picked up a parcel wrapped in brown paper. “I didn’t know…I haven’t sent any to anyone!”

“It’s alright,” Ron said. “Neither did I. How would we even buy presents?”

Harry looked incredulously at Ron, then unwrapped the present he held. “We could make them. See? It’s a flute from Hagrid,” he said, blowing into it. It sounded a little like an owl hooting. “I’ve got a letter from the Dursleys with fifty pence attached to it. Think your dad would like it?”

“Probably,” Ron said, grinning. “You’ve got one from mum, too.”

“Really?”

“Obviously,” Ron said, unwrapping his own gift. He was surprised to find a dark blue jumper inside. “She usually gives me maroon. Must be because I’m in Ravenclaw…”

“I’ve got a green one,” Harry said, smiling broadly and pulling it on. Harry took a small piece of the fudge Ron's mum made, eyes sparkling in delight. Harry boxed it back up, carefully folding up the wrapping paper everything had come in. Harry looked at the now cleared foot of his bed, frowning in confusion.

“I feel like something is missing,” he said.

Ron finished pulling on his own jumper. “Like someone forgot to send you a present?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, still frowning. “Or more like return something that’s mine. But it’s strange, I’ve never got a Christmas present before today, and I don’t have anything for anyone to borrow.”

Ron shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll think of it later. Want to go bother my brothers?”

The Ravenclaw common room was empty when they walked through. Almost everyone had gone home, except for a few of the older students who wanted to take advantage of the library to study for O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s. They didn’t encounter anyone walking up to the seventh floor, to the portrait of the Fat Lady who concealed the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. The Fat Lady had exchanged her usual pink silk dress for a festive red and green ensemble, complete with baubles and twinkling fairy lights. 

“Password?” she asked. 

“We haven’t got it,” Ron said. “We just wanted to visit my brothers for Christmas.”

“Could you tell them for us?” Harry asked. “Or we could knock on you.”

“You certainly shall not!” she said. “Oh, very well. It is Christmas, I suppose. I doubt two little Ravenclaws are up to anything devious.”

The portrait swung open, and they climbed in.

“How’d you two get in here?” George asked. He and Fred were wearing maroon jumpers with a gold F on one and a G on the other. They’d switched them around. 

“Happy Christmas to you too,” Ron said, looking around the Gryffindor common room. It was round and filled with squishy arm chairs. Everything was red and gold, and the largest fireplace had a portrait of a lion above it, currently asleep. There were a few bookcases, not nearly as many as in Ravenclaw,  various tapestries and portraits of witches, wizards, and a menagerie of animals. There was even a portrait of a young Professor McGonagall, and one of Dumbledore, among other famous Gryffindors. 

“We asked nicely,” Harry said, smiling at them and looking around the room. “Cozy.”

“You got a jumper too,” Fred said. “Looks like she puts more of an effort in.”

“And neither of you have letters on yours,” George observed. “I suppose she thinks you don’t forget your name. But we’re not stupid. We know we’re called Gred and Forge.”

“What’s all this noise?”

Percy came out of his own dormitory, carrying his own jumper in his arms. Ron noticed it was only Weasleys left in Gryffindor for the holiday, that he could tell.

Ron and Harry claimed a couch near the fire, while Gred and Forge forced Percy’s own jumper over his head. After some yelling, and summoning of Percy’s lost glasses, Ron looked up to see Neville coming out of his own dormitory. 

“Happy Christmas, Longbottom,” Ron said with a smile. Neville looked taken aback by Ron and Harry’s presence in Gryffindor Tower, but given the day dismissed it. 

After Christmas dinner, which involved a number of exploding crackers that netted Harry a set of his own chess pieces and several mice to gift Hedwig, Ron bundled up to have a snowball fight with Neville, the twins, and a few other students. Flitwick had taken Harry to St. Mungo's to visit his mother. Ron gave him a pack of luminous balloons he'd got out of a cracker so Harry could decorate her room.

When Harry came back he was very quiet. Ron had been waiting for him in the common room, and saw Flitwick say something to him near the entrance. Harry just shook his head, and Flitwick left with a sad smile.

"How was it?" Ron asked, not entirely sure what to say.

Harry shrugged again. "The healer’s told me mum doesn't really know who she is, or where she is, but she said my name a few times, and my dad's. A few other things too, but she mumbles a lot."

Harry sat down heavily next to Ron. "It's like…she's alive, but at the same time she isn't."

Harry looked lost. Ron swallowed, then gave him a brief hug. A few of the older Ravenclaws looked over, but quickly went back to their studies.

"I don't know what to do," Harry whispered. "I don't know if there's anything I can do."

"What curse was it?" Ron asked gently.

"The Cruciatus Curse," Harry said. Ron shuddered, his stomach twisting. "They…they said they had used it on my dad too, but something…I don't know."

Ron was quiet for a moment, then saw something moving in Harry's robes. "Have you taken the mice up to Hedwig yet?"

Harry sat up. "Oh, no. They're still in my pockets! She's probably already gone hunting!"

"Let's go visit her," Ron said, standing up and pulling Harry along with him. "She'll be happy to see you, either way."

"Longbottom doesn't look good," Harry said. 

It was a few days after Christmas, and Ron didn't think Harry was looking good either. He was cold all the time, and was having trouble breathing.

Ron had bullied him into seeing Madam Pomfrey, who had run diagnostic scans. It turned out he had lung damage from when he was a baby and had nearly suffocated, and that since he was so young at the time it wasn't fully treated. He should have been seeing a healer for years to help heal his lungs. The Dursleys never took him to a doctor. Harry even admitted to having fainted during sports in primary school. Madam Pomfrey wasn't sure he would ever fully heal since it had been left for so long. Harry now had to see her every week for a special treatment.

"What do you mean?" Ron asked, not very interested.

Harry tilted his head, considering. "Like he hasn't been sleeping. I’ve looked like that before. It was hard, sometimes, sleeping in the…you know."

Ron nodded. He knew Harry hated confined spaces. Some of the secret passageways were very narrow, and Harry practically ran through them to get out.

"We could ask Fred and George," Ron offered.

"No, it's alright," Harry said, picking up his tea. Ron knew it was being dosed with something now to help with Harry's healing, but he wasn't sure what. "I was only curious."

It was much less interesting to watch quidditch than to play quidditch, but Ron and Harry gamely joined their house mates for each game. They had beaten Hufflepuff back in late November, and eked out a victory against Slytherin. Now they were back in the stands to watch Gryffindor go up against Hufflepuff. The best part was that Snape was refereeing. 

Alicia Spinnet surprised them all by finding the snitch in under five minutes, plucking it from right under Snape's nose.

"That was fun," Harry said as they walked back to the castle. "Shame nothing interesting happened this time."

By Easter break Ron, Harry, and every other Ravenclaw had moved into the library.

"The sooner we study, the sooner we can stop," Harry said, pulling out a rainbow of inks.

"Can't we procrastinate?" Ron said, watching sadly as Harry created a color-coded revision schedule. 

"We can do that later," Harry said firmly. "I want to compare what I have to the schedule Penelope gave us, then we can really get started."

Ron shook his head and began collating their History of Magic notes.

"Hagrid," a nearby voice said. "What are you doing in the library?"

Ron and Harry looked at each other. Harry turned to the shelf the voice came from and pulled out a few books so they could see who was talking.

It was Neville. Hermione, Seamus, and Dean were also talking to Hagrid. They learned the cerberus was guarding the Philosopher's something, and Hagrid had been looking up information on dragons. He had invited Neville and the others down to his hut to see another something.

"Probably a dragon," Ron said, sitting back down. "They're illegal to own and breed, you know."

Harry was lost in thought. "Nicolas Flamel. The Philosopher's…ugh I can't remember. I'm going to ask Madam Pince."

Harry stood up and quickly walked to the front of the library. He was back a few minutes later.

"Well?" Ron asked.

"It's the Philosopher's Stone," Harry said. "It's used to create the Elixir of Life and gold out of other metals. Transmutation."

"Not transfiguration?"

Harry shrugged. "It sounds more permanent. Or maybe there's a way to tell if something's been transfigured. Otherwise people would be transfiguring lots of cheaper metals into gold."

Ron sighed. “That would solve a lot of problems.”

Curious about the potential dragon, Ron and Harry went to visit Hagrid a few days later during one of their breaks.

"Who is it?" his voice called when they knocked.

"Ron and Harry," Harry said.

The door cracked open, and a large hand waved them in.

Fang looked up hopefully from where he was laying down in the yard, then whined sadly before hiding his head under his massive paws.

Ron understood why as soon as they were inside. It was boiling hot. All the windows were closed and the shades were drawn. Ron's eyes zeroed in on the fire, where a large black egg was roasting.

"Hagrid," Harry asked carefully. "Is that a dragon egg?"

Hagrid grinned at them. "It is! Won it in a card game."

"What kind of dragon?" Ron asked.

"Norwegian Ridgeback."

They listened politely and drank tea as Hagrid explained his plans for the dragon, which most pertinently involved keeping it.

"I'm writing Charlie," Ron said as they walked back to the castle. "It's easier to send an owl with an egg than with an entire bloody dragon."

"Reckon we break into Hagrid's hut and take it?" Harry asked. "What if taking it out of the fire kills it? Or makes it so it doesn't hatch?"

"That's why we should owl Charlie. He can tell us. Maybe his reserve doesn't even take Norwegian Ridgebacks."

“Should we…tell someone?” Harry asked. “Like an adult?”

“Charlie,” Ron repeated. “He’s technically an adult.”

Harry looked skeptical, but didn’t push the point. Neither were sure how any teachers would react to Hagrid’s amateur dragon keeping, or what they would do to the dragon. Plus, it was a dragon. How cool was that?

Ron and Harry got a response for Charlie, who was unsurprisingly okay with internationally smuggling live dragons. For altruistic purposes, of course. They were assured that the egg could be swaddled and kept warm so the flight would not endanger the egg’s development.

Getting into Hagrid’s hut to take the egg was another matter entirely. There was a clear line of sight from the castle to the hut so doing it in the middle of the day was out, and they had classes. There was also Fang to consider, and that Hagrid spent every night with the egg keeping watch over it. They talked about drugging both Fang and Hagrid, but that added another layer of either ordering the ingredients from an apothecary, which would take time, or stealing from Snape’s stores. They could use spells, but neither wanted to risk trying to stun Fang or Hagrid and it not being strong enough. 

They didn’t know how long it would take the egg to hatch, and as they were going over more plans to steal it, they found it was already too late. 

One morning, Hedwig brought a note for Harry. 

It’s hatching

“That’s…not ideal,” Ron said, taking the note. He glanced at the head table, where Hagrid was conspicuously absent. “Should we skive off and head down straight away?”

“I think so,” Harry said bleakly. “This complicates things. Hagrid’s going to be more attached to it now.” He looked up and frowned. “I don’t think we’re the only ones invited.”

Ron glanced over to the Gryffindor table, where Hermione was arguing with an excited Seamus, while Dean tried to mediate and Neville kept eating.

Ron and Harry skipped History of Magic and went straight to Hagrid’s house. 

“Any moment now,” Hagrid said, watching where the egg lay on the table. There were cracks running down the side. They waited, watching as more cracks formed. 

An hour later and the egg still hadn’t hatched. 

There was a knock at the door, and Hagrid let the four Gryffindors in. 

“What are you doing here?” Seamus asked, glaring at them.

Ron and Harry looked at each other. 

“Hagrid invited us,” Harry said.

“One of my brothers works with dragons,” Ron said, turning back to the egg, which had begun to make an odd clicking sound. 

“It’s nearly out!” Hagrid hurried back to the table to watch the egg. 

There was a horribly high pitched sound, like nails on a chalkboard, and in one violent motion a baby dragon burst out of the egg to sprawl on the table, soaked with a thick liquid. It was entirely limp, like a sack filled with bones. Black horns to match its scales had begun to sprout, and it had bulging yellow eyes. It sneezed and sparks flew out, smoldering on the table and in Hagrid’s beard. 

“It’s he beautiful?” Hagrid said, reaching out for it. The dragon snapped at Hagrid’s fingers. 

“I think that’s a female,” Ron said, Harry nodding next to him. 

“You’d have to check her…bits,” Harry said. “The book said to lift up the tail.”

“That thing’ll bite his hand off if he tries that,” Seamus muttered, even as Hagrid got around the dragon hatchling and checked.

“She knows her mummy!” Hagrid said when she snapped at him again. 

“Hagrid,” Hermione said, “how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?”

“Someone’s at the window,” Neville said. Hagrid stood up in alarm and ran to check. Neville threw the door open. 

“It’s Malfoy,” Neville said, closing the door again, sounding annoyed.

The students looked around at each other. There was no way this would be kept a secret, but no matter how much they tried to talk Hagrid into getting rid of the dragon, he wouldn’t budge. He was too aglow with the joy of new motherhood to hear them at all. 

It took both Seamus and Dean ending up in the hospital wing from venomous bites, Hagrid abandoning all of his other duties and at risk of losing his job, Fang having half his tail burned off, and Ron showing him a letter granting Norberta sanctuary in Romania, to convince Hagrid to part with the rapidly growing dragon. 

Ron and Harry tried to coordinate with Neville and Hermione, but they insisted they had a way to get Norberta to the Astronomy Tower unnoticed. They refused to share exactly how. So, at midnight on Saturday, Ron and Harry hid themselves in a shadowy corner of the Tower to wait, just in case things went south.

They eventually heard grunting and labored footsteps, and were shocked to see Neville, Hermione, and a cage holding an agitated juvenile dragon appear out of thin air. Harry gripped Ron's wrist painfully hard and pointed silently at something shimmering on the ground.

Hermione was thrilled that Malfoy had got caught sneaking around by McGonagall, but Neville shushed her. Soon Charlie's friends arrived, slung Norberta into a harness, and flew away. Neville and Hermione left the tower in good spirits, leaving the item on the floor behind.

Harry was the first to move, taking slow steps over to pick up the item. Ron could see it was some kind of cloak, flowing over Harry's hands like water.

"It's an invisibility cloak," Harry said, voice awed, walking back to where Ron still hid. "I…it feels so familiar."

They heard voices shouting at the bottom of the tower. "Quick, put it on!"

Harry threw the cloak over both of them and they huddled underneath it. Footsteps were now coming up the tower again. Ron slapped his hand over his mouth, trying not to breathe. Harry had gone rigid beside him.

It was Dumbledore, in vibrant pink robes decorated with animated hot air balloons in the shapes of different magical creatures. He moved slowly around the tower, frowning slightly as he looked for something. Ron was certain they would be caught, but after a while Dumbledore abandoned his search and left.

Harry looked at Ron, eyes huge under his glasses, and whispered, "What was that about?"