Harry Potter and the Monster of Gryffindor

Harry’s predictions for the dragon’s rate of growth turned out to be optimistically low. Norbert, as Hagrid had christened the animal, grew three times his length in the first fortnight. The dragonet was keeping Hagrid so busy he was unable to do his gamekeeping duties. Harry, Ron, Neville and Hermione instituted a rota amongst themselves to go down to Hagrid every day to make him see sense.

It turned out that Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit recommended feeding newly hatched dragons a mixture of brandy and chicken blood. In consequence the chicken coop behind Hagrid’s hut was full to overflowing as he tried to breed the birds fast enough to satisfy Norbert’s appetite and the hut itself smelled strongly of alcohol.

Harry didn’t let Nagara go near the hut anymore: he had taken to heart the information that the crowing of a rooster is fatal to the basilisk. He couldn’t remember where he’d read it, but he wasn’t taking any chances. In a sense he understood how Hagrid felt: however illegal Norbert was he was still Hagrid’s pet. Harry would hate to face letting Nagara go into the forest forever, even if Suku would be there to comfort him. On the other hand, Nagara wasn’t approaching five foot long and breathing fire.

In an effort to make Hagrid remember his other pets Harry asked, innocently, on one visit, “how’s Fluffy? He must miss you.”

“Oh, yeah,” a guilty look settled into Hagrid’s genial features. “I don’t see ‘im so much as I’d like, not with Norbert keepin’ me busy. But don’t yeh fret about ‘im. ‘E’s got the corridor to run about in, and e’s getting fed every day.”

“Seemed like a pretty small corridor for a dog that size,” Harry commented nonchalantly. Hagrid looked stricken, although that may have been because Norbert bit Fang’s tail, causing the boarhound to howl. Harry escaped by offering to take Fang to Professor Kettleburn to see to his tail while Hagrid wrestled with both the dragon and his conscience.

***

After another week Norbert had progressed to eating dead rats. Harry preferred the smell of blood to the stench of the brandy, but Hermione and Neville looked a little sick at the sight of a barrel of dead rodents. Now it was Scabbers who was being kept away. Harry was getting fed up with both the dragon and Hagrid’s attitude. On an afternoon when all four were there he quietly asked Nagara if she could freeze Norbert. Now up for a challenge the snake obligingly wrapped herself around a table leg and stared long and hard at the dragon. Harry watched in delight as the dragon slowly turned a stony grey.

“Well done!” he whispered to Nagara, offering her a rat from Hagrid’s barrelful. She turned away from the dead rodent saying “Nagara hunts in the trees this night?” Harry assented. Finally free of the dragon’s overwhelming presence Harry turned back to the conversation between Hermione and Hagrid. Ron had come up with a plan to send Norbert to his brother Charlie in Romania. Norbert would be able to grow up safely at the Romanian dragon sanctuary and have the skills necessary to return to the wild. Hermione was now championing this plan to Hagrid.

Eventually Hagrid noticed the absence of noise, and stared in horror at the statue Norbert had become. Harry had to do some quick explaining that this was a ‘spell’ and it was quite harmless. Harry had it done to him before, and he’d come off none the worse for wear.

That was when Neville spoke up. “Hagrid. We need to know how long it takes to wear off. I’ve had a thought. If we send Norbert thrashing about through the post, we’ll have to answer questions. But no-one will care if we send a statue of a dragon. If it lasts long enough, we might be able to get him to Romania in less than a day. The ministry itself will transport him for us!”

“I don’t know, Nev. It’s never lasted more than a couple of hours before,” Harry answered, doubtfully.

“That’s all we’d need. We freeze him, take him to the post office in Hogsmeade, tell them we need him shipped immediately to Charlie’s sanctuary in Romania. They’ll pack him up, floo to the ministry, stick him on an international portkey to the Romanian ministry, and then floo again to the sanctuary. He’ll be there in four hours.”

“Nev, you’re a genius,” said Ron. “We can send a letter with him to let Charlie know that he’ll wake up.”

“We just need to time how long this… spell… lasts.” Hermione’s hesitation was painfully noticeable. Hagrid was too caught up in the thought of saying goodbye to Norbert in such a way that he didn’t seem to have spotted it though. They looked at their watches, and then up at Hagrid’s miserable face.

“At least I can stay until it wears off,” Harry offered. All four first years decided this was a good plan, and sat around Hagrid’s table doing homework. Hagrid himself pulled out a loom-like contraption he had folded up in a corner, and began to weave bandages out of homespun lengths of silver-white string. Harry grinned. Hopefully the chance to enjoy some peace would remind Hagrid of his life without a dragonet underfoot.

Indeed, when, three and a half hours later the dragon awoke Hagrid was more agreeable to sending him away. Hermione had spent the intervening time commenting on how much happier Norbert would be among his own kind, how much more space and freedom he’d have in a sanctuary, how professional dragon keepers would have all the materials on hand to keep him healthy, and every other positive thing she could think of.

When the four headed back to the castle after a dinner of roast chicken in Hagrid’s hut they began to make real plans. Neville admitted that his four hour estimate was based on his Uncle Algie’s dealings with Norway, and he didn’t know how often portkeys went to Romania. Ron said he would write to his dad. They would have to time everything perfectly. Allow enough time to sort things out at the post office in Hogsmeade so as not to miss the portkey from the ministry, but freeze Norbert just before they entered the post office, so that they had the maximum time before he unfroze. It would be no good if Norbert had to sit around for hours at any stage.

A letter was dispatched with Suku, under instructions to be as quick as he could, to Mr. Weasley in London asking about international postal portkey times to Romania, and a school owl was simultaneously sent to Charlie to inform him that they had come across an illegal dragon that they urgently needed to rehome. That owl would take several days to get there, and Harry half hoped they’d have sent Norbert off before it arrived.

***

Suku didn’t appear at breakfast the following morning. Harry tried to tell himself this was not a surprise. They had written to Mr. Weasley last night, he would hardly have had time to find out and respond yet. Nevertheless, the day dragged by.

Harry felt full of nervous energy and his only outlet was the afternoon flying class. He sped around Madam Hooch’s obstacle course, lapping Malfoy without missing a beat. She was delighted. “Mr. Potter, we shall have you on the quidditch team next year! Heaven knows Gryffindor must find a new seeker.”

“He can’t be any worse than the buffoon McLaggen,” Malfoy jeered, sore at being outflown. “Mind you, Longbottom would make a better seeker than McLaggen, and he can barely tell one end of a broom from the other.”

“Higgs had the snitch practically following him in that match against Ravenclaw and never noticed, so I’d say he’s not much better.”

“How would you know, Potty? I bet you couldn’t see it if it flew up your sleeve.”

“Well, no,” Harry shot back, unmoved by Malfoy’s taunts after Dudley’s, “my sleeve would be in the way.”

“Now, now,” Madam Hooch interrupted them. “I think we’ll have you two be seekers in our next mock game. Back into the circle now and we’ll practice catching.”

Suku returned with Mr. Weasley’s answer that evening, as they were talking in the common room. He reported that the postal portkeys to Bucharest went at 4 o clock Monday to Friday and 2 o clock on Saturday.

“If we go to the post office about 1 o clock on Saturday, that should give them enough time to catch the portkey at the ministry,” Ron said in a whisper. “It probably won’t be sorted at the other end for another half an hour, and then it’s got to get to Charlie. I think, if we time it right, it could be there from start to finish in 2 hours.”

“That means we can freeze Norbert here, and not have to worry about getting into Hogsmeade.” Being out of bounds, even accompanied by Hagrid, had been the part of the plan which most worried Hermione.

“You don’t think we should go with Hagrid in case he tries to back out, do you?” asked Neville, worriedly.

“If that dragon hasn’t reached Charlie by Sunday I’m going straight to the Headmaster, even if Hagrid is our friend.” The three boys looked at Hermione but could tell by the set of her jaw that there was no point in arguing.

***

Hagrid burst into tears when they told him that he had only two more days with Norbert, but he still seemed willing to go along with the plan. For the four first years Saturday couldn’t come fast enough. Finally, Harry, as nonchalantly as he could manage, strolled down to Hagrid’s hut. Hagrid had lined a crate outside his back door with blankets. There was also a teddy bear, a sack of what Harry suspected were rats, and a brandy bottle with a rubber teat.

He shook his head at these preparations and whispered instructions to Nagara. The snake gave a vibration of understanding and dropped into Harry’s sleeve, ready to take on Norbert head-to-head.

Despite sounding like a desperate fight, the confrontation between the reptiles was over almost before it began. Norbert didn’t seem to have learned from his last encounter with Nagara, locked eyes with her, and almost immediately began to petrify. Hagrid carried Norbert’s statue out into the crate, nailed on the lid, and, wiping his eyes on an enormous handkerchief, embraced Harry as though it were he, not Norbert, that would be departing forever.

Hagrid loaded Norbert’s crate onto a large wheelbarrow and set off towards the school gates, still sniffing. Harry watched him go, absentmindedly stroking Nagara where she peeped out from under his collar. “Do you want to go hunting in the forest?” he asked her.

“Yes! Nagara is tired. Nagara’s eyes burn. Nagara will hunt with strike and bite!”

“Come on then,” Harry said, walking towards the trees. He had found, in his latest wonderings, a sort of path behind the quidditch pitch. It was out of sight of the main school, and he thought it just possible that he could take it into the forest a short way to allow Nagara better hunting. Accordingly, he took himself towards it.

Harry entered the dimness under the trees with a sense of trepidation. Everyone said there were terrible creatures in the forest. Harry had to admit to himself that, around the perimeter, there didn’t seem to be anything too bad, but he was still nervous of wandering too far from the open grounds. Nagara, used to the forest by now, slithered happily into the trees and Harry was soon unable even to hear her.

Harry wandered carefully along the path until he found a likely looking boulder, and sat down to wait. The forest around him seemed unnaturally dark and silent. Beyond the trees birds were singing, he knew. He had heard them. But their calls were muted in here, as though the air itself were afraid to breathe. Harry told himself he was being silly: it was just the number of stories he’d heard. There was nothing in here to be afraid of. He told himself that quite a lot as he sat on his rock, waiting for Nagara.

It felt like an eternity before Harry heard slithering in the leaf litter. “At last,” he said, and stopped. The slithering sound had been made by a cloak, dragging along the ground, not by Nagara. Around the corner of the path that led back to the castle came Professor Quirrell in something of a hurry. He, too, stopped at the sight of Harry.

“What are you doing here, Mr. Potter?” he asked, and Harry knew there was something different about his voice.

“I… was just… exploring,” he volunteered, hardly able to say ‘I brought my illegal serpent into the off-limits forest so that she could kill things’.

“The forest is out of bounds. Detention, and 20 points from Gryffindor. Get back to the castle.” Harry hung his head. He couldn’t argue with the man: the forest was out of bounds. He didn’t immediately return to the castle, however, instead lurking around the edge until Nagara came out, swollen with pride and a rabbit. He picked her up and told her about getting detention. She didn’t understand exactly, the concept didn’t translate particularly well, but she got the gist that Harry was unhappy because something had happened in the forest with a teacher.

“Was it snake-magic-teacher?”

“Who?”

“Snake-magic-teacher in the burrow-of-smells.”

“Professor Snape? No, it was Professor Quirrell. Garlic-smelling-teacher. What do you mean about Professor Snape having snake magic? Snakes have magic?”

“Not that kind of magic. Humans use magic with snake speech to make this snake-magic. Nagara can sense it. Nagara senses it on Harry’s teacher. Nagara thought Harry’s teacher was like Harry, and understood parseltongue, but when Nagara greets him, he cannot hear.”

“Oh.” Harry considered this, “but there are snakes who do a different magic?”

“Nagara does not.”

“Oh, OK.”